Chapter 108: OS (9)
108 – OS (9)
Gao Liao was momentarily speechless.
After about three seconds, he finally spoke: “The source of inspiration.”
Qi Yun: “Oh.”
Lin Xun controlled his expression, trying not to let the curve of his lips become too pronounced.
The audition location was on the second floor. Though called an audition, it wasn’t exactly one, as it had already been basically decided that Qi Yun would play the role. Strictly speaking, it was just to refine the styling and help Qi Yun get into character.
Upon pushing the door open, damp mist greeted them. Lin Xun immediately noticed the large fog machines placed along one side of the room and at the four corners of the ceiling. It was a vast space, around four hundred square meters, with an extremely high ceiling and a very dim color palette. According to Qi Yun, aside from a few beach scenes, the rest of the film consisted of underwater shots and special effects scenes, so many parts were filmed indoors. The interior of the sailor’s ship and the underwater ancient kingdom structures were also built indoors.
A massive green screen stood in the room, accompanied by the faint hum of the fog machines. The entire space was filled with a grayish-white mist, the lighting very dim. In the upper right corner, a white fog lamp glowed, its faint light projecting through the haze, making the room resemble dusk or early night.
Voices emerged from within the mist.
“Director Gao,” a very young voice said, “look at this.”
Following the voice, a person emerged from the fog, holding a slippery, unidentified object in their arms. As they approached, Lin Xun’s eyes twitched—it was unmistakably a cluster of deformed tentacles.
And this voice sounded somewhat familiar; this person also looked somewhat recognizable. As they drew closer, it became instantly clear.
The prop master!
The one who had been innocently dragged into the underground haunted house and then scared out of their wits. That film had been directed by Gao Liao, so it was no surprise to see them here now.
Lin Xun lowered his head slightly, not wanting to trigger any memories for this poor soul, though Butterfly Madam’s mist had likely already made them forget those things.
Gao Liao reached out and fiddled with the tentacles in the prop master’s arms. The texture was translucent, like jelly, with a gradient from flesh-pink to gray-black. Besides suckers, the tentacles were covered in dense bumps and spines, with bizarre swellings irregularly clustered together—enough to trigger anyone’s trypophobia or other strange symptoms.
Gao Liao said, “It’s fine.”
“Finally,” the prop master sighed in relief. “Then I’ll assemble it. It’s quite large, so exhausting.”
Gao Liao nodded. “Alright.”
The prop master, cradling the tentacles, disappeared cheerfully into the mist.
Gao Liao turned to the two of them. “The makeup room is here.”
The makeup artist was a girl wearing black-framed glasses. Upon seeing Qi Yun, her eyes showed clear surprise.
“Your skin condition is amazing,” she said, originally holding a brush. After studying Qi Yun for a minute, she put the brush down and started looking for something else. As she searched, she continued, “The base makeup is already perfect. I designed two sets of makeup for this role to create a mermaid-like feel, but your current state is just too good. Did your company’s makeup artist do this?”
Qi Yun: “I’m not wearing any makeup.”
The makeup artist froze for three seconds, stood up, turned around, and pinched his cheek.
“Really???” she exclaimed. “My goodness.”
She picked up the brush again. “Then let’s start with the base makeup.”
Lin Xun occupied a stool, silently watching the makeup artist apply various products to Qi Yun’s face, feeling somewhat dazed himself.
After completing the preliminary preparations, the makeup artist began brushing color onto Qi Yun’s face. Her brush dipped into a liquid, a very light pinkish-white. However, once that layer of white spread across Qi Yun’s face, a certain feeling vanished instantly.
The mist.
The hazy mist on his face seemed to dry up as soon as human pigments were applied, making him appear more like a person and less like a mermaid from the ocean.
Gao Liao, standing to the side, also furrowed his brow.
The makeup artist examined Qi Yun from different angles for a moment before finally wiping off the makeup. “You’re truly beautiful,” she said.
Qi Yun blinked.
“You don’t need any of this at all. I know what to do now.” The makeup artist sighed and brought out other tools, shifting her focus to the upper half of Qi Yun’s face this time.
His eyebrows were slightly extended, with a delicate, ethereal hook at the ends. Next came his eyes, where a smoky gray-green was softly blended across his eyelids and the outer corners. The color wasn’t heavy, seemingly intended to create a hazy atmosphere.
“Blue would make your aura even more ethereal,” the makeup artist said as she worked, “but the overall tone of our film isn’t very clean. Our team ultimately decided on gray-green as the main palette. Your character needs to feel beautiful yet mysteriously sinister, like Pandora’s box.”
Fortunately, Qi Yun didn’t blurt out, “What is Pandora’s box?”
Lin Xun rested his chin on his hand and watched. After the color blending was finished, the makeup artist took out a black pencil-like tool and sketched a few lines at the corners of Qi Yun’s eyes, deepening the contours. The final stroke suddenly extended outward from the end of the eye, creating a seductive line.
She then softened this line, transforming it from a distinct black stroke into a blurred, ink-green mark.
Qi Yun’s entire aura changed dramatically.
It was… bewitching.
Lin Xun quietly took a photo and sent it to his senior brother.
A Happy Zhi Zhen: I feel like he really could make it in the entertainment industry.
At the same time, Gao Liao leaned slightly toward them, his gaze growing deeper and more focused. Holding a pen and paper, he glanced over a few times before starting to write and sketch on the paper.
The makeup artist then dotted a few spots on Qi Yun’s cheek. “Special effects will be added here later—ten scales.”
Qi Yun nodded. “Okay.”
The makeup artist seemed satisfied and began drawing strange, wild patterns on the side of his face and neck. Finally, she deepened the contours of his entire face. The whole process took nearly an hour.
Next came styling. His hair was dampened to a semi-wet state, with curled ends and two damp strands of bangs hanging down. He removed his upper garment, using only his cascading hair to cover himself.
When Qi Yun finally stood up from the mirror, even the nearby staff members let out a collective “Wow.”
In the slowly flowing white mist, his lower half was hidden in the dense fog, while his shoulders, back, and chest, with their snow-white hue, nearly blended into the drifting haze. His facial features were thus softened, leaving only his jet-black long hair and deep green eyes standing out vividly—a distant, mysterious, non-human quality. In that moment, Lin Xun suddenly felt he could somewhat understand the “aesthetic” Gao Liao sought to pursue. The visual impact was immense, far surpassing superfluous labels like gender, appearance, or species. The first impression wasn’t “a beautiful person” but “a beautiful thing.”
Qi Yun took a few steps forward, treading through the mist as if emerging from ancient mythology.
The shutter clicked as staff quickly took photos nearby. The flash caused Qi Yun’s pupils to contract slightly, and he narrowed his eyes. This fragile expression only fueled the photographer’s enthusiasm.
After three minutes of intense shooting, Gao Liao said, “Come here and try a few poses.”
Qi Yun walked over to where some black props shaped like reefs were placed.
“Lie down here, close your eyes,” Gao Liao instructed. “A pose of waking from the reef, propping up your upper body to look forward. Slowly.”
Qi Yun lay down stiffly. Sword cultivators, of course, lay stiffly—unity of man and sword was their ultimate aspiration, and even if they turned into cartilaginous fish, this wouldn’t change.
“Relax, loosen up,” Gao Liao knelt on one knee, adjusting his hands while placing the other on his waist. “Sink here, let your body curve, soften, lie against the ground. Yes, keep going.”
Lin Xun suspected every hair on Qi Yun’s body was standing on end.
“You’re not in deep sleep, just resting. Prop your head up, yes…”
After several adjustments, Qi Yun finally achieved a sufficiently soft pose: a mermaid resting on a reef by the shore, one hand supporting his cheek. Mist swirled densely, the thick white fog drifting with the wind as if caressing his body. His upper half was bare, skin snow-white, with fine droplets of water clinging to his chest and waist—whether they seeped from within or condensed from the mist was unclear.
A fan started up at its lowest setting, gently lifting his hair.
A “WOW” came from the photography team. The shutter sounds ceased as more professional filming equipment and lighting were brought in to capture several short clips. Throughout, Qi Yun was constantly adjusted by Gao Liao and the stylist, a sword cultivator nearly stripped of all dignity.
Lin Xun quietly took some photos as well—he wasn’t without appreciation. But after finishing, he felt it was a pity to keep them only in his album, yet he didn’t know who to share them with. In the end, he bundled them all and sent them to Brother Chang Ji.
Finally, after about forty minutes, Qi Yun temporarily concluded his ordeal—though by then, his stamina was also depleted.
Gao Liao waved a hand, and the photographers, lighting crew, and stylists dispersed.
Lin Xun noticed Qi Yun’s eyes were slightly red.
Lin Xun was taken aback.
Then he heard Gao Liao say, “Thank you for your hard work.”
Qi Yun replied, “It’s nothing.”
As Lin Xun helped him up, Gao Liao added, “Thank you… thank you for being willing to try this role.”
“Huh?” Qi Yun seemed momentarily speechless before responding, “Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”
Gao Liao said, “The mermaid scenes in this film are very few. If you’re willing to continue working with me, my next project is a mystery film where one of the main characters is a porcelain doll. I think you’d be perfect for that role.”
Qi Yun began looking around restlessly.
Lin Xun knew exactly what he was thinking the moment he saw that dog-like expression.
This film had just started shooting, and who knew when the next one would happen—it could be ages away, at least a year from now. By then, Chang Ji might have already completed his enlightenment, turning him back into that flamboyant sword cultivator.
After looking around, Qi Yun, finding no answer, nodded. “I’ll consider it.”
Gao Liao seemed to want to say more, but the prop master, who had been tinkering in the corner, suddenly called out, “Director Gao.”
Gao Liao: “What is it?”
The prop master flipped through his phone and exclaimed, “Old Zheng is calling for you.”
Gao Liao said, “Alright.”
He turned back to Qi Yun. “I need to go to the third floor for a moment.”
Qi Yun: “Can I go back then?”
Gao Liao was speechless again.
Lin Xun thought Director Gao might be encountering such a foolish son for the first time.
Gao Liao: “There’s a crew dinner tonight. Do you have something urgent?”
Qi Yun: “I… don’t think so.”
Gao Liao smiled. “I’d like to have more time to talk with you.”
Qi Yun: “Then I’ll go get dressed first.”
“Alright,” Gao Liao said. “I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
The prop master crouched back down to tinker with something, while Gao Liao left with his assistant.
“Fuck,” Qi Yun blurted out as soon as the door closed, his words ill-timed. “I’m exhausted.”
Lin Xun: “Not bad, you looked quite beautiful.”
Qi Yun: “Should I just stay as a fish then?”
“No,” Lin Xun hadn’t even spoken before Qi Yun dismissed his own idea. “I need to wield a sword. I can’t keep doing these looks-based gigs.”
Lin Xun thought to himself that aside from his face, Qi Yun didn’t seem to have anything particularly outstanding.
He helped Qi Yun to the dressing room. The room was spacious, and footsteps seemed to echo faintly.
“Cold,” Qi Yun said. “Why am I so weak?”
Lin Xun: “I’m a little cold too.”
The fog machine was still running, perhaps because the air was too damp, a chill seeped into the bones. The entire room felt strangely eerie and cold.
Just as he was thinking this, a sudden scream came from the corner.
It was from the prop master.