Chapter 7

[Daily Info④: Governor South Street (Yongkang Meat Pie)] Thick filling, chewy crust, savory meat, and plenty of juice. Affordable, flavorful, and uniquely delicious. (Note: Best enjoyed with the wontons at the store.) At Governor South Street, Yan Li bit into a meat pie, stomping his foot as the hot juices burned him, yet he refused to loosen his grip. Chewing the pie with a mix of gasps and sighs, his mouth was overwhelmed by the aroma of dried vegetables and savory meat. A couple of sips of smooth and flavorful wonton soup later, the fatigue and irritation from his early morning makeup routine vanished entirely. This detour on an empty stomach was well worth it; another gem added to Yan Li’s collection of culinary delights. The system's recommendation proved reliable once again! After finishing his meal, Yan Li thoughtfully packed a few more meat pies before heading to the makeup room. Yan Li had a morning scene today, arriving before 5 a.m., but someone had beaten him to it. “Good morning, Mr. Xie.” Xie Junhao was gluing on a wig. When he saw Yan Li, he paused briefly before recalling who he was and gave a nod. “Lei Hou (Hello).” “Mr. Xie, have you had breakfast yet? I just bought some meat pies; they’re pretty good. Want to try one?” “Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” Xie Junhao politely declined, his tone distant. Yan Li wasn’t bothered—Xie’s makeup artist was busy working, so eating wasn’t suitable. He left one for the makeup artist instead and distributed the rest to the idle staff nearby, including Wang Xiu. “Well, look at you, starting to win hearts already,” Wang Xiu teased, chewing on a meat pie. Yan Li chuckled. “Winning hearts? That’s too grand a statement!” As a minor supporting actor, he neither had the rank nor the resources for such gestures. His goal was simply to foster goodwill, blend into the crew, and avoid unnecessary trouble. “You know, this meat pie is pretty good. Where’d you get it?” “Governor South Street, Yongkang Meat Pie. Red storefront on the east side.” Yongkang Meat Pie wasn’t just the shop’s name but also a local specialty in Zhejiang Province’s Jinshi City, akin to Shaanxi’s Roujiamo or Anhui’s Banmian. While Hengdian had plenty of places selling this snack, Yan Li had spotted two or three stores over the past few days with “Yongkang Meat Pie” in their name. Without specifying its location and characteristics, it would be tricky to find the right one. “Not bad! I’ve been on and off in Hengdian for almost two years, and you figured this out in just a few days?” “I like to explore.” Yan Li pulled out one of his usual excuses for his knack for finding hidden gems. The other two were: “I have many friends” and “I just have a good instinct.” These three excuses, used flexibly, could cover 95% of curious inquiries. If all else failed, he had a trump card: “It’s a deep and complicated matter. Trust me; I can’t explain much more.” “Ha! An amateur foodie.” “Foodie’s too much. I just have a decent nose. By the way, I know a barbecue spot that’s even better than the meat pie.” At that, Yan Li tactfully shifted the topic. Over the past few days, he and Wang Xiu had become quite familiar with each other. Picking up on Yan Li’s hint, Wang Xiu wiped her hands with a napkin and got straight to the point. “Alright, what’s the deal?” “You handle my makeup for a week.” “Sure it’s good?” “Why would I lie to you?” “Deal!” Unable to resist the allure of good food, Wang Xiu agreed, and Yan Li happily shared the barbecue joint’s address. Over the past few days, Yan Li had gathered plenty of information through the system and his inquiries. This included Wang Xiu’s: She was ranked among the top three in the “Sui-Tang Heroes” crew’s makeup and styling team (system verified) and had a soft spot for men and food (according to other makeup artists). If not for her technical expertise but lack of managerial skills, Wang Xiu could have easily led a team of her own. A good makeup artist was invaluable to an actor. For Yan Li, a supporting actor, having the luxury to pick a makeup artist was out of reach. Typically, whoever was available took the job. Now, with the deal set, he could always go to Wang Xiu, ensuring consistent quality and occasional perks, like cutting the line. Makeup queues were often long, especially during large ensemble scenes. The main cast and big names naturally had priority, but the rest depended on the makeup artists’ schedules. Getting makeup done early or removed quickly saved actors from waiting around unnecessarily, allowing them more prep time or an earlier wrap-up—a priceless boon after a long day’s work. The one-week agreement was a cautious move. Yan Li didn’t want to scare Wang Xiu off by overreaching. When the week was up, he had his ways to renew the arrangement. Every piece of valuable information had endless possibilities when used wisely, bringing surprises everywhere… For now, Yan Li’s role remained limited to background and minor supporting scenes. The central storyline involving Yuwen Chengdu wouldn’t begin for another week. This arrangement worked in his favor, giving him time to memorize his lines, refine his character, and practice his fight choreography. He even managed to squeeze in horseback riding lessons. Yuwen Chengdu had horseback scenes, even war scenes, but Yan Li had no prior riding experience. Fortunately, this wasn’t a fatal flaw. Many actors in the “Sui-Tang Heroes” crew couldn’t ride, relying entirely on stunt doubles, especially for war scenes where untrained actors risked poor visuals or injury. Thus, the bar wasn’t high: stay on the horse, shoot a few frontal shots, and let the doubles handle the rest. Still, Yan Li held himself to professional standards. While he wasn’t overconfident enough to forgo doubles, he wanted to perform certain stunts himself for better visuals. Moreover, horse-riding lessons outside cost a fortune. With the crew offering free training tailored for film, not taking advantage would be foolish. So, after wrapping up in the afternoon, Yan Li found a trainer through Wang Decai and slipped him two packs of quality cigarettes. The trainer, unwilling to reject the favor, coached him until late evening. For a first-timer, Yan Li showed promise, managing to trot a lap on his own by the end of the day. Next, he needed to refine the basics and gradually increase speed. To Yan Li, horseback riding wasn’t difficult to learn. It felt akin to driving: easy to start but requiring ongoing practice to master. Though his thighs and backside ached by the time he returned to the hotel, his spirits were high. As a child, he’d often imagined wielding a long weapon, galloping through the battlefield, charging fearlessly into enemy lines. Unexpectedly, this dream had partially come true. It was a pity his portrayal of Yuwen Chengdu didn’t involve many heroic, invincible feats. Maybe next time, he thought, I’ll play someone like Lü Bu or Xiang Yu. Now, that would be satisfying…