Part 2
“I can’t teach it.” Jiang Si picked up a piece of green vegetable and placed it in his bowl, then put down his chopsticks and pointed at his own eyes. “It’s all based on talent. Without this hardware, you can’t learn it.”
Hai Moyun wanted to cry from envy. “If I could see ghosts and monsters every day too, that would be great. My life right now is just too boring.”
Jiang Si: “That wasn’t what you were saying last time when you were crying for your mommy and daddy while hugging me.”
Forced to recall the previous incident, Hai Moyun silently took a bite of rice.
Fine, a peaceful, ordinary life is pretty good too.
“But after being splashed with that bowl of soup, won’t that guy be permanently disfigured? That’s pretty tragic.”
Jiang Si: “Probably not. That soup was at most around eighty degrees Celsius; it shouldn’t cook his skin completely.”
“That’s a relief. Luckily we came to a place like this. If it had been a pot of boiling hotpot thrown at him, with that oil temperature, he’d be 100% disfigured,” Hai Moyun sighed emotionally.
Once Jiang Si had eaten his fill, he put down his chopsticks and waited for him.
The premiere was at seven o’clock in the evening, and the core creative team would appear on time for promotions. Out of the original creative team, Jiang Si had resigned, Zhang Shuo had resigned, A’xi was dead, leaving only three or four people behind.
They had created a small group chat and pulled Jiang Si into it.
Picking up his phone, Jiang Si saw that the notifications were already at 99+. He couldn’t help but smile. Clicking in, he saw that the latest messages were all tagging him.
[Macaque is Also Life: Jiang Si, are you in Ning City?]
[Stop Grinding: Is Brother Jiang coming? We are all so looking forward to your return! @Just Surviving Jiang]
[Americano Isn’t As Bitter As My Life: Come on, come on! Let’s go out for karaoke after the premiere today! Last time you came to Ning City, we didn’t even get a chance to have a good chat. @Just Surviving Jiang]
[Just Surviving Jiang: I’m here. I’ll be there on time tonight.]
[Stop Grinding: Woohoo! As long as you’re here, Brother Jiang, we don’t have to panic anymore.]
[Just Surviving Jiang: I’m just here as an audience member. You guys do your best.]
[Americano Isn’t As Bitter As My Life: …Don’t be like that, you’re the director. If you don’t come, who’s going to hold down the fort?]
[Just Surviving Jiang: What were you planning to do if I didn’t come?]
[Stop Grinding: If you didn’t come, we were going to make Old Ma go up. We drew straws yesterday. But aren’t you here now?]
[Just Surviving Jiang: I have social anxiety, good luck to you guys!]
[Americano Isn’t As Bitter As My Life: May I ask if social anxiety means making society feel anxious? How do you have the nerve to call yourself socially anxious?]
[Macaque is Also Life: …Wait, I barely chuckled twice, how did the topic shift back to me? @Just Surviving Jiang, did you forget the time you grabbed a knife and stepped onto the cubicle desk with one foot to model for us? You call that social anxiety?]
[Stop Grinding: I second the motion. Brother Jiang, you also always talk to the air. You talk so much, how could you have social anxiety?]
[Americano Isn’t As Bitter As My Life: Seconded +10086]
[Just Surviving Jiang: I say I do, so I do. Listen to me.]
[Americano Isn’t As Bitter As My Life immediately defected: Impudent Old Ma and Little Juan, how dare you defy the words of our Supreme Emperor. Drag them both out and execute them.]
[Just Surviving Jiang: …How did I become the Supreme Emperor?]
[Americano Isn’t As Bitter As My Life: Haven’t you retired? If you come back, we will crown you as the Emperor.]
[Just Surviving Jiang: Forget it then.]
Seeing him staring at his phone and smiling, Hai Moyun assumed he was chatting with his cousin and sneaked a peek. Finding out it was a group chat, he asked curiously, “Who are you chatting with so happily?”
Jiang Si paused. “Am I very happy?”
“You can’t even hide the curve of your lips,” Hai Moyun winked. “Is your partner in there?”
“Don’t talk nonsense, these are my former colleagues,” Jiang Si smiled. “You already know my partner anyway.”
Hai Moyun’s eyes instantly lit up with the eagerness of a gossip hound. “You really have one? Who is it? And I know them?”
“Take a guess?”
The mutual acquaintances between the two of them could be counted on one hand. Yet, even up until the premiere, Hai Moyun still couldn’t guess who it was.
Not only did he not guess it, but his guesses became increasingly outrageous, eventually straying completely outside the realm of humanity.
Jiang Si led him through ticket inspection and into the venue. Hai Moyun’s muttering buzzed around his ears like a fly.
“Is it really that hard?” Jiang Si glared at him in exasperation, laughing out of sheer irritation. “You’ve even guessed ghosts; couldn’t you try flipping the gender?”
“How could that be?” Entering the venue, Hai Moyun felt it was a bit stuffy, so he took off his hat and twirled it in his hands. “Are you saying you like men?”
His voice was a bit loud, drawing the attention of the audience members nearby.
Jiang Si glanced at his rainbow hair and asked with utmost sincerity, “How do you have the nerve to question me while sporting a hair color like that?”
Hai Moyun didn’t understand. “What’s wrong with my hair? It has so many colors, it’s cool!”
“Yeah, very cool.” Jiang Si silently moved a bit further away from him.
Hai Moyun counted on his fingers, trying to figure out who exactly could be Jiang Si’s partner.
As seven o’clock approached, the lights in the cinema went completely dark. A figure patted Hai Moyun on the shoulder, signaling for him to move over to the empty seat next to him.
“Hey man, this is my seat,” Hai Moyun lowered his voice.
“Move aside,” the figure spoke. Hai Moyun instantly recognized the voice and obediently shuffled to the side, asking in confusion, “Brother, weren’t you working? How did you end up here too?”
“Do I need to report to you?” Hai Di shot back.
Hai Moyun was left speechless. Intimidated by his brother’s oppressive aura, he quietly shrank back into his seat.
“I thought you weren’t coming either,” Jiang Si whispered. “Didn’t you say you didn’t have time today?”
“Time can always be made.” In the darkness, Hai Di grabbed Jiang Si’s fingers, gently playing with them in his palm. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know,” Jiang Si answered honestly. “I’ve never seen the final cut.”
“…” Hai Di sighed. “Forget it, let’s watch the movie.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the screen in front of them suddenly lit up with a brilliant white light. A sepia-toned scroll slowly unfurled, accompanied by a Suona prelude playing through the surround sound system. The story of Hermitage officially began.
Jiang Si’s original intention in creating this animation was to combine elements of ancient Wuxia (martial arts) with cyberpunk. The initial story was very simple: a swordsman accidentally wandered into a mountain forest to drink, only to fall asleep and experience a “rotten axe handle” (a metaphor for the passage of centuries). When he woke up many years later, the society outside no longer favored simple cold weapon martial arts. Relying on a single sword, the swordsman fought for justice, once again bringing the spirit of chivalry to the forefront.
He had spent half a year gathering reference materials and another year and a half revising. Everything from the script, character designs, static storyboards, and dynamic storyboards, to the environments, character models, special effects, and voice acting, he had tweaked piece by piece himself.
Now that the short film had been adapted into a full-length feature, Jiang Si had been constantly anxious about what the final result would look like.
Would the script be too dragged out and melodramatic, boring the audience? Had the characters been deformed? Would the scenery and sound effects feel rushed?
However, seeing his hard work on the big screen, Jiang Si finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The ending showed the protagonist carrying a longsword on his back, step by step walking back into the mountain forest he had entered years ago. As a single bamboo leaf blew past, the film once again brought the curtains down.
The spirit of chivalry would forever endure, passed down from generation to generation.
The audience was terrifyingly quiet. Jiang Si curled his fingers, holding Hai Di’s hand tightly in return.
In the next second, thunderous applause erupted, and the lights turned back on. Unintentionally, Jiang Si even saw some people secretly wiping away tears.
The film producers, wearing black short-sleeved shirts printed with the word “Hermitage,” walked onto the stage together and bowed to the audience.
The applause grew louder, continuing for a long time.
The one holding the microphone was a young, slightly chubby man wearing a bunny ear headband—a piece of merchandise from the movie. He nervously exhaled before speaking: “Thank you all so much for coming to the premiere of Hermitage. Thank you.”
Lao Ma talked a lot about the concepts behind the film as well as small behind-the-scenes stories from the production team, livening up the atmosphere. It wasn’t until he spotted a familiar face sitting near the edge of the audience that he nearly failed to hold back his tears, his eyes turning red.
Before the audience could stop laughing, they heard him continue: “Actually, you might not know this, but our production team has gone through countless partings, reunions, and hurdles to get to today. Some people left, and some have passed away. But thankfully, the film we poured so much blood, sweat, and tears into was released on schedule. At the very least, it proves our hard work was not in vain.”
“Today on stage, our director is actually not present. But we know he will always quietly accompany Hermitage, and he will also accompany us.”
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