I Became the Koi Actor After Entering the Book

**Chapter 88: Dragon**

Translator: Namizaki

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Zhang Zhonghua, the film industry titan, was indeed in Hollywood recently, but Chi Zhongqiao hadn’t heard any news about a new project in development. He found this rather odd.

Xia Chu said, “They’re on set right now. Want to come with me and take a look?”

Chi Zhongqiao glanced at the time. His first class had just ended, and it was still early. After a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “Sure, thank you for the invitation.”

Xia Chu chuckled and called Zhang Zhonghua. The two got into the car and chatted about movies and TV shows on the way.

“So you finished filming a TV series over there before coming here?” Xia Chu asked. He paid little attention to the TV industry, being primarily involved with Hollywood’s film scene.

“What genre is it? Another crime drama like <Invisible Crimes>?” Xia Chu asked, genuinely curious.

Chi Zhongqiao smiled. “No, it’s a historical drama.”

Xia Chu’s expression immediately fell. He knew Chi Zhongqiao had started his career in historical romance dramas. After watching <Invisible Crimes>, he had become intrigued and even sought out Chi Zhongqiao’s earlier work, <Empress of the World>. However, as a typical historical romance drama, <Empress of the World> paled in comparison to the phenomenal success of <Invisible Crimes>. Still, these kinds of dramas were the easiest to make a splash in China.

Historical romance dramas don’t require particularly strong acting skills and are easy to gain a following, making them the most popular type of series for Chinese actors to take on.

When Chi Zhongqiao mentioned it was a historical drama, Xia Chu instinctively assumed it would be another commercial project like <Empress of the World>. Disappointed, he didn’t bother asking for more details and instead shifted the conversation to Zhang Zhonghua’s film.

“Actually, Zhang Zhonghua isn’t directing this film. He’s just tagging along for fun. You know Lix, right? He’s the one directing it, and Zhang Zhonghua is just serving as an Assistant Director for kicks.”

Lix, one of the titans of American cinema and a Best Director award winner, has a distinctive style that contrasts sharply with Zhang Zhonghua’s realist approach.

Chi Zhongqiao: “…I know him. I’ve seen his film <Angel’s Feather>.”

As expected, the company you keep reflects your status.

Xia Chu chuckled. “His latest film has a Chinese character, but the original actor went back to China while waiting for filming to start and gained a lot of weight. It’ll take him a while to slim down, and the scene is scheduled to shoot in a couple of days…”

He gave Chi Zhongqiao a knowing look.

Chi Zhongqiao’s lips twitched slightly. No one could resist the allure of Chinese cuisine, especially travelers who had been abroad for years.

After chatting for a while, the car pulled up at the film set.

Xia Chu, a regular on set, led Chi Zhongqiao through a maze of corridors.

From a distance, Chi Zhongqiao spotted an elderly man in traditional Tang attire standing beside a tall, burly Caucasian man.

Xia Chu called out loudly, “Lao Zhang! Lix!”

Both men turned their heads simultaneously as Xia Chu led Chi Zhongqiao toward them.

Zhang Zhonghua looked younger than his actual age, perhaps due to his connection with Yan Qingbo. He greeted Chi Zhongqiao warmly, “I’m Zhang Zhonghua, and this is Lix. I always said Lao Xia was unreliable—I doubted he could even get you here. But he finally pulled through this time.”

Chi Zhongqiao smiled. “Good morning, Elder Zhang and Mr. Lix. When Teacher Xia first mentioned you wanted to meet me, I was shocked. I thought he was joking.”

Zhang Zhonghua chuckled. “It wasn’t me who was eager to meet you—it was him.”

He tried to pat his old friend on the shoulder, but Lix’s towering height made it impossible. Zhang Zhonghua settled for patting his arm instead.

Lix had been staring at Chi Zhongqiao ever since he approached. It took a slap on the back from his old friend to snap him out of his trance. He dramatically clutched his chest. “Oh, heavens! You’re absolutely stunning!”

Chi Zhongqiao: “…Thank you.”

As if he’d never seen a Chinese person before, Lix gushed enthusiastically, “Dear Qiao, I saw you play Shang Tang on TV. The moment I laid eyes on you, your beauty struck me like lightning. You and Yan are like angels fallen to earth!”

Chi Zhongqiao replied slowly, “Thank you for the compliment. But according to our Chinese tradition, I might be a deity descended from the heavens.”

Lix’s eyes widened in realization. “Ah, right! That metaphor felt a bit off. You and Yan both carry such a strong Chinese aura—classic and mysterious.”

Yan Qingbo’s dignified composure and Chi Zhongqiao’s gentle serenity both exuded a unique presence in the eyes of foreigners.

Lix rambled on without getting to the point. Zhang Zhonghua finally couldn’t take it anymore and turned to Chi Zhongqiao. “Lao Xia must have told you before you came that we’re missing an actor for a role…”

Lix finally remembered the real reason for the meeting and quickly interjected, “Yes, yes, the original actor can’t play the role anymore. I’ve auditioned so many actors, but none of them had that special spark—that quality that makes you sit up and take notice—until I saw you on TV! It just so happened that Zhang Zhonghua knew you, and Xia Chu was your teacher, so I wanted to invite you to audition for the role.”

Lix hadn’t just blindly chosen Chi Zhongqiao based on his looks. Before deciding to have him audition, Lix and Zhang Zhonghua had watched Chi Zhongqiao’s previous films and concluded that his acting skills were more than adequate. Given his experience in film, they asked Xia Chu to bring him over.

The Chinese character Lix had in mind was a young dragon captured by Americans as a child and locked in a dark, sunless base. The plot revolved around the protagonist breaking through layers of restraints to rescue the dragon.

At first glance, it sounded like a clichéd monster-slaying, world-saving story—which, in truth, it was.

However, Lix insisted that his film aimed to condemn the villains who exploit kindness to harm others.

Lix rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining with anticipation as he turned to Chi Zhongqiao. “Would you be willing to try a scene?” He handed over the script.

Chi Zhongqiao’s English was fluent in all aspects—reading, writing, speaking, and listening. He scanned the script, nodded, and asked, “Shall we do it now?”

Lix nodded vigorously.

Chi Zhongqiao adjusted his posture slightly, rolled up the script in his hand, and extended it flatly toward Lix. When he spoke, his voice was noticeably higher than usual, transforming his naturally deep timbre into the clear, youthful tone of a young boy. “Please take it with you.”

Dialogue delivery was a fundamental skill for actors, and Chi Zhongqiao had honed his technique meticulously. He had even studied with professional voice actors for a time, though he couldn’t match the monstrously skilled voice-over artists. Still, for an actor, his foundation was more than sufficient.

Chi Zhongqiao listened for a moment, as if moved by Lix’s words. A crack appeared in his icy expression as he tilted his head in confusion and whispered, “Really?”

As if awaiting confirmation, a flicker of surprise slowly bloomed in Chi Zhongqiao’s eyes. Perhaps having been imprisoned in endless darkness for too long, the hope in his gaze dared to reveal itself only cautiously, like a fragile sprout pushing through frozen earth.

Standing opposite him, Lix was suddenly struck by that gaze. The bright anticipation in those eyes pierced him instantly. Only after the scene concluded did Lix clutch his chest and whisper, “Good God…”

Under that kind of gaze, Lix had wanted to shout, “I’ll give you anything! Anything at all!”

Chi Zhongqiao possessed a face beloved by the camera—a true “movie face.” He photographed beautifully, but his most striking feature wasn’t his face, but his eyes.

His eyes could convey unspoken emotions with remarkable depth.

Lix declared, “No one could remain unmoved by such a gaze.”

He beamed with the excitement of discovering a priceless treasure, “I believe I’m about to witness the birth of another ‘Yan’.”

Chi Zhongqiao smoothed the script in his hand and chuckled softly.

Lix handed Chi Zhongqiao the full script. “We’ll begin filming your scenes on Monday, which means you only have three days to review it…”

“That’s plenty of time,” Chi Zhongqiao replied.

The young Dragon was merely a supporting character with limited screen time. His role primarily involved escaping the base with the main characters. Moreover, the character was relatively straightforward, requiring little in-depth study. All his emotions could be inferred from the dialogue.

Chi Zhongqiao texted Lu Yuzhou and remained on set to observe Hollywood’s filming process. After the male and female leads wrapped up a scene, they heard that the actor playing the dragon had been cast and immediately rushed over to watch.

The male lead, Leon, stood at an imposing 1.87 meters tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular build reminiscent of a bodybuilder. Even Chi Zhongqiao, who was no small man himself, felt an inexplicable pressure standing beside him.

Leon greeted him enthusiastically, “Oh, it’s you! I love your Shang Tang! Can I get your autograph?” He struggled to pronounce “Shang Tang” in Chinese while fumbling for a pen in his jacket pocket and handing it to Chi Zhongqiao.

Lix roared, “That’s the costume!”

Leon sheepishly released the jacket. “Oh.”

The female lead, Perry, was only interested in romantic love stories and hadn’t seen <Invisible Crimes>, so she didn’t recognize Chi Zhongqiao. However, that didn’t stop her from admiring his looks.

Chi Zhongqiao heard the word “cute” used to describe him again.

Unable to get an autograph, Leon insisted on taking a photo with Chi Zhongqiao, his chest muscles nearly pressing against Chi Zhongqiao’s body.

Chi Zhongqiao glanced at him silently. He wasn’t naturally gay and had little interest in bodybuilder-like physiques. Compared to such imposing muscles, he much preferred Lu Yuzhou’s lean, upright, and powerful build.

After the photo shoot, Leon and Perry went off to film their next scene, thoroughly satisfied.

Chi Zhongqiao spent the entire day on set. That evening, Lu Yuzhou came to pick him up. The moment Lix saw him, his eyes lit up. “Oh my god, he’s so handsome!”

Lu Yuzhou was of mixed heritage, his features more pronounced than those of typical Asians. His sharp, striking beauty, with its almost aggressive edge, stood in stark contrast to Chi Zhongqiao’s understated, gentle handsomeness. Lu Yuzhou’s beauty pierced the heart like a sword.

Lix began rubbing his hands together, his voice brimming with theatrical enthusiasm as he addressed Lu Yuzhou, who had approached Chi Zhongqiao. “Dear stranger, would you be interested in replacing our big-chested, brainless male lead and breaking into Hollywood? I guarantee you’ll become a sensation across the entire United States!”

Big-chested, brainless Leon: “???”

Lu Yuzhou replied coolly, “No need.” He glanced at Chi Zhongqiao, his gaze softening. “I believe having Brother Qiao is enough.”

Chi Zhongqiao’s lips curved into a faint smile.

Lu Yuzhou gently put an arm around him. “It’s getting late. Brother Qiao and I will take our leave now.”

Chi Zhongqiao waved goodbye to the group.

From behind them came Leon’s furious roar: “Why did you call me big-chested and brainless? Isn’t that supposed to describe women? Like Perry!”

Perry retorted coldly, “I have no chest.”

*****

Chi Zhongqiao listened for a while before bursting into laughter. Checking the time, he figured Du Yusheng was probably awake and called him. “Hey, Brother Du, it’s me.”

Du Yusheng’s voice still sounded groggy. “Hey, Zhongqiao, what’s up?”

“I’m taking on a role over here…” Chi Zhongqiao began.

Du Yusheng immediately snapped awake. “Didn’t you say you weren’t taking any roles?!”

Chi Zhongqiao paused, at a loss for words.

He stopped walking. Lu Yuzhou had told him to wait outside the parking lot, and Chi Zhongqiao had agreed.

“What do you mean ‘uh-huh’?!” Du Yusheng snapped irritably.

Chi Zhongqiao feigned innocence. “I was talking to Yuzhou.”

Du Yusheng coughed twice, his voice suddenly softening. “Oh, President Lu’s there… What I meant was, it’s not that I don’t want you to take roles, it’s just that… I’m not there to look after you, and I’m worried…”

Chi Zhongqiao tucked one hand in his pocket, tugged his mask down slightly, and burst into laughter. “Brother Du, what are you worried about? He can’t even hear what you’re saying! Hahahaha!”

Du Yusheng fell silent.

Zaki~ English is not my first language, but I’ll try to get the translations as close as possible to the Author’s work. If you see any grammatical errors or mistakes in the translation, please feel free to drop them in the comments section so I can correct them immediately. Thank you and Happy Reading 🙂