novelraw Chapter 101: Slim in Clothes, Ripped Without
Chapter 101: Slim in Clothes, Ripped Without
Three days after the audition concluded, Jiang Ci, accompanied by Sun Zhou, officially went to Huaxing Pictures and signed the actor contract for *The Legend of Han and Chu*.
The contract terms were favorable beyond imagination.
Wei Song not only gave him the lead actor's salary but also, with a flourish of his pen, transferred many preferential clauses originally belonging to Peng Shaofeng directly under Jiang Ci's name.
After signing the contract, Wei Song directly slapped a densely packed special training schedule right in front of Jiang Ci.
"Starting today, you belong to me."
Wei Song's arrangements were fast-paced and tightly packed. The first stop was a top-tier equestrian club in the Beijing suburbs.
...
On the equestrian course, cries of misery were everywhere.
Several young supporting actors from the crew who needed to ride horses were being jostled dizzy by the tall warmbloods, their faces pale one after another.
"Clamp your legs tight! Relax your waist! Don't stand there like a wooden stake!"The coach was a middle-aged man with dark skin, a fiery temper, and a booming voice.
Sun Zhou stood by the side of the field, holding a pile of towels and water in his arms, nervously watching the scene inside.
Jiang Ci was assigned a rather spirited black stallion, with solid muscles and a defiant look in its eyes.
The moment he mounted, the horse restlessly pawed at the ground and snorted.
The coach glanced over and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Hey, new guy! Hold on tight! Don't fall flat on your face the moment you get on!"
Jiang Ci paid no attention to the coach's shouts.
He really was swaying a lot.
The horse's back was much higher than imagined, and the swaying was intense.
But he suddenly remembered the words of the old Master Guan who had taught him the horse stance.
"Everything has its qi. When qi flows smoothly, all matters proceed smoothly."
"Calm your heart and steady your qi. Sink your roots deep."
Jiang Ci closed his eyes, ignoring the horse's jostling and the surrounding noise.
He began to adjust his breathing.
Inhale, exhale.
He sank his consciousness into his dantian.
He didn't fight against the immense force coming from the horse's back; instead, he tried to feel its rhythm.
The vibration of hooves hitting the ground, the rhythm of muscle movements, the heat of its breath.
Gradually, a strange sensation emerged.
It was as if he could sense the emotions of the spirited horse beneath him, that restless and uneasy probing.
The originally agitated black horse pacing around slowly calmed down.
It flicked its tail, gave a comfortable snort, and its steps became steady and powerful.
Sun Zhou, standing at the edge of the field, gaped.
He saw Jiang Ci let go of the reins he had been clutching tightly, simply sitting upright in the saddle with his back straight, his body naturally rising and falling with the horse's gait.
No superfluous movements.
That posture didn't look like a first-time rider. Instead, it looked like the master who had been with this horse for years.
The coach, who was scolding another actor, also noticed the anomaly here.
He froze.
"This... how is this possible?"
He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things.
While other actors were still learning how not to be thrown off, this young man named Jiang Ci had already entered the realm of "horse and rider becoming one"?
Was this kid not lying? Was he really riding for the first time?
The coach dropped the trainee he was instructing and walked over quickly.
He circled Jiang Ci and the black horse a full round, his face filled with disbelief.
"You... how on earth did you do it?"
Jiang Ci opened his eyes, his expression sincere.
"I just... felt it."
The coach: "..."
Felt it? In my twenty years of teaching equestrian, this is the first time I've heard such a mystical term.
The next day, ancient deportment class.
The teacher was a refined old professor specializing in ancient etiquette and aristocratic postures.
Wei Song had invited him in hopes that he could thoroughly polish Jiang Ci, making him better able to portray Xiang Yu's innate noble bearing.
As a result, the class had barely lasted half an hour before the old professor voluntarily called a stop.
He looked at Wei Song, his face full of confusion.
"Director Wei, this child... does he still need me to teach him?"
Wei Song was also baffled. "What's wrong, Professor Qian? Can't he learn it?"
"No, it's not that he can't learn." Professor Qian shook his head with a bitter smile. "It's that I have nothing left to teach."
He pointed at Jiang Ci standing in the center of the training room.
Jiang Ci was simply standing there quietly, not deliberately striking any pose.
But his posture was tall and straight, his shoulders and back level, his chin slightly tucked.
That feeling wasn't a learned deportment, but a habit rooted deep in his bones.
His stance, his bearing, all carried a kind of majesty that others couldn't imitate.
Professor Qian asked Jiang Ci to try walking a few steps.
Jiang Ci then walked a few steps.
His strides weren't large, but they were steady and powerful.
He looked straight ahead, maintaining a natural aloofness towards everything around him.
The old professor watched, clicking his tongue in amazement.
Wei Song looked at the young man in the center of the room, slender yet radiating a powerful aura, and the last trace of worry in his heart completely dissipated.
...
Both the equestrian and deportment classes went surprisingly smoothly.
But Jiang Ci didn't slack off because of this.
Instead, he proactively made a request to Wei Song.
He needed a professional fitness coach and a set of high-intensity strength circuit training plans.
Sun Zhou was completely baffled.
"Brother Ci, what are you doing? You've already passed the audition. Shouldn't you be studying the script and pondering the lines now? What's with you soaking in the gym every day?"
During a training break, Sun Zhou handed over a towel while unable to resist nagging.
Jiang Ci took the towel, wiped the sweat off his face, his chest heaving violently.
"Physical stamina is very important."
"Oh, I know stamina is important, for the action scenes," Sun Zhou said. "But you're training way too hard."
Jiang Ci didn't speak.
His goal had never been to become a muscle-bound hunk with visual impact like Peng Shaofeng.
What he wanted was a physique that contained power within, yet could explode with lethal force in an instant.
It was the "clothed, he looks lean; unclothed, he reveals muscle" physique of a hegemon king.
This was also part of the performance.
Watching Jiang Ci shuttle between the riding field and the gym every day, pushing himself to near exhaustion, Sun Zhou couldn't help but admire his artist's perseverance.
That night, just after Jiang Ci returned to the hotel from the gym, he received an email from Lin Wan.
The email contained detailed information about the predetermined "Yu Ji" actress, Zhao Yingfei.
Jiang Ci opened the email.
The information showed that Zhao Yingfei's background was indeed prominent, with her family holding significant influence in the capital.
But she herself was exceptionally low-key, with almost no public acting experience or news.
Jiang Ci quickly scrolled down until he saw a video attachment at the end of the email.
The video file was small, and the quality was extremely blurry.
The title read: Zhao Yingfei, age 16, "Taoli Cup" Gold Award Work — "Sword Dance".
Jiang Ci clicked on the video.
On the dimly lit stage, a slender young girl in red dance attire held a long sword.
The music began, a mix of urgent drumbeats and desolate flute sounds.
The girl moved.
Her dance held not a trace of softness or allure.
Every movement was filled with a sharp, martial aura.
Slash, thrust, flick, sweep.
The sword light merged with the girl's figure.
At the end of the video, the girl performed a difficult spinning move, her long sword pointing straight at the sky, freezing in that pose.
Even through the blurry screen, Jiang Ci could still feel the unyielding pride and spirit of "rather be a shattered jade than an intact tile" bursting forth from that slender body.
Jiang Ci's breathing hitched slightly.
He had originally thought this Yu Ji, who got in through connections, would be a delicate, hothouse flower.
He never expected that within her body hid such an unyielding soul.
Wasn't this exactly Yu Ji?
That fierce woman who, amidst the songs of Chu from all sides, could draw her sword and take her own life, unwilling to become a burden to her beloved.
Jiang Ci closed the video, a bold idea suddenly forming in his mind.
He took out the script Wei Song had given him and flipped to the last few pages.
"The Song of Gaixia."
In the script, after Xiang Yu finishes singing his sorrowful song, Yu Ji dances with tears in her eyes, her dance moves poignant and beautiful, ultimately ending with her suicide.
This was the most classic interpretation.
But Jiang Ci felt it wasn't enough.
For the soul hidden within Zhao Yingfei's body, this interpretation was too weak.
He picked up a pen and began writing quickly in the blank margins of the script.
He wanted Yu Ji's final dance not to be a poignant performance offered to death.
But a final war dance, offered to her beloved.
Using dance to break the siege!
Using her body, to perform one last charge for her king.
Jiang Ci took pictures of the few script pages he had modified with his phone.
He knew this change was too radical.
To get Wei Song and the entire crew to accept it, he needed the most opportune moment and the most powerful "weapon."
That weapon was Zhao Yingfei herself.
...
Training continued.
Another ten days passed.
In the late-night gym, only Jiang Ci remained.
The combination of high-intensity training, a scientific diet, and the system's built-in "physical optimization" had brought about a dramatic transformation in his body.
Shirtless, he walked up to the huge floor-to-ceiling mirror.
The person in the mirror was a full size larger than he had been ten days ago.
But it wasn't bulky muscle mass.
It was a perfect form with smooth lines, every inch filled with explosive power.
When Sun Zhou pushed the door open, this was the scene that greeted him.
He was still holding the protein powder and towel he had prepared for Jiang Ci, but his entire body froze in the doorway.
Staring at the unfamiliar figure in the mirror radiating astonishing pressure, he forgot to breathe for a moment.
This... this is Brother Ci?