Before Ling Lang could react from the shock Feng Hao brought him, he heard him say again, "Since you don't care, I will help you choose the second option."
"Wait," Ling Lang held down Feng Hao's hand that was already helping him organize his clothes, "I haven't chosen yet."
"You are already disqualified," Feng Hao smiled and took his hand away, "Next time, please answer within three seconds."
"But… "
Feng Hao stretched out his index finger and pressed Ling Lang's lips, forcing back the words behind him, "No, but, remember, you can't touch it with your hands, if it falls out, the mission will fail. You have a chance to ask me for help, but you There is also a corresponding price to be paid when using help, the rules of the game are as simple as that.”
Ling Lang followed Feng Hao to the garage. He worked hard to contract his gluteal muscles along the way. This action made the contact between the intestinal wall and foreign objects more closely. Every step he took would cause the metal balls in his body to rub against each other. He was worried about them Falling out, worrying about slipping deeper.
Feng Hao watched Ling Lang walk to the front passenger seat door with an expression of admiration, "Do you know what you look like now? It's like a model walking on the runway, every step is so elegant."
Ling Lang's mood at the moment is not as relaxed and happy as his, "Models are trained with books."
Feng Hao smiled, "The way I train models is a little different, but the effect is better."
Ling Lang sat in the co-pilot, Feng Hao leaned over, helped him fasten his seatbelt, and smeared his face.
"You can try to relax a little bit, and if you keep tightening it all the time, the muscles will become more slack when you're too tired to hold on."
Although Ling Lang disagreed with what he did, he also agreed with what he said. He was sitting in the car anyway, so he simply relaxed his limbs as much as possible, and even adjusted the seat back, leaned back and started closing his eyes.
Feng Hao was amused by his somewhat angry behavior. Some people expressed their dissatisfaction by confronting others, but Ling Lang's approach was excessive execution. If he was fined for ten laps, he had to run twenty laps to vent his feelings. mood.
It took about half an hour to drive to the studio, Ling Lang closed his eyes the whole time, wanted to sleep but couldn't sleep, the occasional bump reminded himself of what was going to happen next day, he forced himself to think about some insignificant things to forget about his body of distress.
If you hold a ball in mid-air and let go, it will fall down instead of up, which is the law of gravity.
If two balls of different sizes and weights are dropped from the air at the same time, they will fall at the same speed, which is the law of free fall.
If you hoist three balls in parallel and hit the middle ball with the left ball, it will cause the right ball to fly to the same height. Ideally, this movement will go on forever, which is the law of conservation of energy.
Ling Lang thought about it for a long time, only to realize that the active images in his mind were all balls. He immediately shook his head and tried to throw them away. Then he heard a sneer next to him. He knew that Feng Hao must have guessed himself again. What I thought in my mind, I simply pretended not to move.
Feng Hao hadn't been to the crew for a week, everyone came up to say hello when they saw him, and Feng Hao kindly returned one by one.
When Ling Lang's makeup artist saw Ling Lang, his face became embarrassed, "Ling Lang, do you have a fever? Why is your face a little red."
"No," Ling Lang replied calmly, "Maybe it's too hot in the car."
"I accidentally turned on the air conditioner too much," Feng Hao on the side explained for him.
"Everyone knows that the two of you came together, so you don't need to show your love in disguise," the makeup artist spit on him mercilessly, "What we need to solve now is this pure natural blush, otherwise we can only wait for the director K Bar."
Ling Lang understood what he meant. Today was the most important turning point in the whole play. After he found out that his younger brother was selling drugs and the instigator of this behavior was Feng Hao, he angrily went to him and questioned him, but accidentally discovered the entrance to the hidden basement. Found an old adversary imprisoned there.
The first time the old rival saw Ling Lang, he thought that the orphan who committed suicide had come back to life. After he realized that they were two completely different people, he told him the truth one by one with revenge.
Ling Lang believed that when he knew the truth, his face would definitely not be as rosy as it is now, it must be frighteningly pale.
Feeling the ice on the left cheek, Ling Lang raised his eyes and saw in the mirror that it was the makeup artist who pressed an ice pack on his face.
"This," she handed Ling Lang another ice pack, and he took it and put it on his right cheek consciously.
"Is it ice or not?" the makeup artist asked.
Ling Lang blinked.
"Be patient, otherwise it's hard to be an actor. If you apply it for a while, your facial muscles will be frozen into facial paralysis." She took the ice pack away and pressed it back again, "Fortunately, you It was a facial paralysis.”
Feng Hao was amused by her, "It is estimated that you are the only one who dares to make such a joke with the senior."
"I've been with him for many years, too," the makeup artist finally took down the ice pack. "If I didn't have some fun for myself, I would have been frozen to death by him."
She looked left and right, "The effect is good, what do you think?" She asked Feng Hao's opinion.
"Well," Feng Hao looked at Ling Lang's face through the mirror, "it's much better than before."
The red tide on Ling Lang's cheeks had already subsided, but when they met Feng Hao's eyes, there was a flirtation in the other's eyes that only Ling Lang could understand, and he suddenly felt the blood surge again.
"Damn it!" The makeup artist finally discovered the source of the problem and began to drive away Feng Hao, the culprit, "Go out and go out!"
Feng Hao was kicked out of the dressing room by her with a smile, and the makeup artist was full of indignation to cool down Ling Lang again, "I shouldn't have let him in just now! But Ling Lang, are you an eighteen-year-old girl? You two are really enough. !"
Ling Lang stayed in the dressing room longer than expected. The director really expressed his dissatisfaction with their delay. Looking back at Ling Lang's face with heavy foundation, he criticized the makeup artist again.
"I really tried my best," the makeup artist said, "I'll change it to a bed scene today, or I'll put him in the refrigerator. There are still three steps to close the refrigerator, and even make-up is saved for the bed scene. ."
The director had no choice, so he had to make do with it, and instructed the light to make Ling Lang's face pale as much as possible.
In the gloomy basement cell, Ling Lang saw his old opponent who was tortured to death. The opponent was indeed an experienced senior actor. Even in the dim light, Ling Lang saw the opponent raise his head and quickly flashed in his eyes. .
He is also a dedicated actor, and he quickly threw himself into filming without distractions, forgetting the mark Feng Hao left on him.
"Child, come here, walk in a little, let me see you," the old rival's voice was hoarse and vicissitudes of life, weak but majestic.
Although Ling Lang was nervous, he still rubbed against the edge of the iron prison step by step under his bewitchment. The moment he approached, the old enemy's hand stretched out from the cage and clasped his wrist like lightning and flint.
Ling Lang was startled, and began to shake his hand desperately. After all, the old opponent was seriously injured and weak, and he was quickly rid of it.
"Like, like, so like," the old rival exclaimed, shaking his head.
Ling Lang had already stepped back, holding his wrist. Hearing his words, he still couldn't restrain his curiosity, "Like what?"
The old adversary laughed sinisterly, and the laughter echoed in the small dungeon.
"Son, what's your name?"
After a while, "Xiao Ling."
"Xiao Ling? Hahahaha," the old rival raised his head and smiled, "Xiao Ling, is that person who gave you this name?"
Ling Lang's eyes suddenly became alert, "How do you know?"
"Hahahaha, he actually called you Xiaoling, hahahaha," the old rival laughed so hard that he almost passed out.
"Have you laughed enough?" Ling Lang laughed at him, and his face sank.
The old rival's laughter gradually subsided, "Do you know why he named you this name?"
"...I don't know, do you know?"
The old opponent grabbed the railing in front of him and said word by word, "I, of course, of course, know, know."
Ling Lang's face became paler and paler, and his fisted hands began to tremble slightly. He didn't want to believe anything the person in front of him said, but his reason told him that every word the other party said was true.
"How about it," the old rival looked at the result with satisfaction, "now you know why that person kept you by his side."
"You are talking nonsense!"
"In that person's eyes, you were never yourself."
"you shut up!"
"You're a substitute from start to finish."
"Who would believe you old bastard—"
Ling Lang choked halfway through his lines.
The director called the card.
"Forgot your lines?"
Ling Lang was silent for a few seconds, then raised his hand and rubbed his upper lip uncomfortably, "Come again."
"You're a substitute from start to finish."
"Who's going to believe what you old bastard says..."
Ling Lang got stuck again, such two low-level mistakes in a row were rare for him, and everyone covered his eyes when they saw him.
The third time the lines were stammered, and the fourth time they finished fluently, but they lacked the momentum of anger and anger.
The director stuck his head out from behind the screen in surprise, "What happened to Xiao Langlangni?"
Others had the same doubts, but Feng Hao came out to help him, "Why don't you try changing the old bastard into an old bastard?"
This time it went very smoothly, but everyone couldn't figure it out, is the word "jerk" a forbidden language for Ling Lang
"Bastards are not balls, you don't have to be under psychological pressure," Feng Hao whispered in a teasing tone while sticking to Ling Lang's ear during the break.
Ling Lang glared at him, the latter smiled like a schadenfreude, as if his abnormality showed that he had no responsibility at all.
"Today's game is not a fight, you should be thankful, don't stare at me like that, if you want to stop the game, you can do it at any time."
"What about punishment?"
"Three deductions," Feng Hao replied very succinctly.
"...You only remember one person in total."
"Yes," Feng Hao's smile was rude, "the remaining two are temporarily owed, and next time we can only start over from +86."
The actors began to take their places, Ling Lang calmly walked to the camera, brewing for a few seconds, and with a wave of his hand, the precious vase on the table was mercilessly dropped to the ground and shattered into countless pieces.
Then, with another savage kick, the chair in front of Ling Lang was kicked down, the tablecloth was also pulled away vigorously, and the things on it fell to the ground with a crackle. The violent body movements pressed against the foreign objects in the body, screaming at Ling Lang for their existence from time to time.
The room quickly fell into a mess, and there was nothing left to survive. Ling Lang stood in the center of the room, his shoulders undulating violently, indicating that this person was furious.
Something on the floor in front of him caught his attention, and he walked over step by step. It was the gift Feng Hao gave him on his "birthday", and it was the most precious gift in his heart that he had carefully cherished.
Of course, Ling Lang, who was an orphan, didn't have a birthday, but he only knew more than ten minutes ago that not only the name he gave him was that person's surname, but even the birthday he gave him was the anniversary of that person's death.
He squatted down in a complicated mood and reached out to pick up the things on the ground, but the moment he was about to touch it, his movements stopped.
The director nodded approvingly, expressing this feeling of wanting to pick up but not being able to pick it up quite well.
Ling Lang had a different feeling in his heart. Following his squatting motion, the sphere slipped a little further, almost falling out.