"That line feels quite realistic," commented Song Ping.
"..."
The director proceeded to ask Bai Roushuang some routine questions about whether she had any acting experience. Out of the corner of her eye, Xu Shulou noticed the staff member she had rescued from the game last night peeking in from outside. Surprised, she walked over. "I thought you ran off with Yu Xing last night."
"Ugh, he’s got money—he can afford to run. If I ran, I wouldn’t even have rent for next month."
"...What are you doing here at the set?"
"Well, I just wanted to confirm… last night wasn’t a dream, right?"
"Of course not."
"Oh, great! Just pretend I’m not here, Heroine," the man chuckled. "I just feel safer being near you."
Xu Shulou fell silent for a moment. "The aliens have already been sent away. I’ve checked—there’s no similar danger within dozens of miles."
"That’s a relief," the staff member nodded, though still uneasy. "But I’ll stick around for a bit longer."
Considering how shaken he must be after the alien incident, Xu Shulou silently allowed it.
"Xu, the action director!" someone called from inside. "The director wants you to come in and give some pointers to the actress auditioning—check her martial arts movements."
"She doesn’t need my pointers," Xu Shulou called back. "She knows martial arts!"
"Oh?" Xu Shulou heard the director’s voice, a mix of surprise and delight, followed by the swishing sound of a sword being swung. Then, silence. Finally, the sound of the director slapping his thigh. "Good, good, good! Little Li, go print the contract!"
He turned to Song Ping with excitement and teased, "Song, do you have any other martial arts experts to recommend?"
Song Ping rubbed his face. "How about me?"
The director laughed heartily, not taking it seriously at all. "Song, you’re such a joker."
"..."
The director then looked at Bai Roushuang. "Not bad, not bad. You and Xu Shulou… Speaking of which, your names are quite a coincidence. Are they your real names? Ahem, anyway, you’re both good. I’ll have to add more fight scenes between you two."
"Fight scenes?" Bai Roushuang shook her head. "I won’t fight my senior sister. Besides, I can’t beat her."
The director seemed inspired, scribbling notes in the margins of the script. "Perfect. Since you can’t win, the male lead Lu Beichen will step in to save you."
"Lu Beichen can’t beat her either," Bai Roushuang mused. "Director, I think Xu Shulou’s character should be the strongest fighter in the entire series."
This was the first time the director had seen a lead actress so eager to give a supporting character more screen time. "Why?"
"Well, I’ve always had a dream—of writing scripts," Bai Roushuang said cheerfully, leaning in. "Let me tell you my vision for this story?"
"..."
Nearby, the screenwriter suddenly grew wary. Xu Shulou had already taken over as the action director on her second day in the crew. Now it seemed Bai Roushuang was no pushover either—was she trying to steal his job too?
He pretended to casually move closer, eavesdropping just in time to hear Bai Roushuang say, "Actually, Bai Roushuang’s character doesn’t necessarily have to be the female lead."
The director countered, "But she’s Lu Beichen’s—"
"Actually, Lu Beichen’s character doesn’t necessarily have to be the male lead either."
Good heavens. The screenwriter was stunned. He’d seen actors try to tweak scripts before, but one who wanted to rewrite both the leads? That was a first.
The director was equally baffled. "Then why did you even join this production?"
Bai Roushuang said solemnly, "Because I have boundless love for this story."
The screenwriter couldn’t help but mutter, "...You literally said during auditions that you just wanted to play with your senior sister. Everyone heard you."
Bai Roushuang was indignant. Whenever Xu Shulou talked about her love for the mortal world, everyone believed her. Why was she doubted when she used the same phrasing? Did she lack the same convincing aura?
After a moment, she decided to be honest. "Because I don’t want to see such extraordinary pasts be buried like this."
To Fenmo, those were real lives that shouldn’t be misrepresented. Wasn’t it the same for Bai Roushuang? The world had entered an era of dwindling spiritual energy. If the age of cultivation was truly ending, she at least wanted to bid it a dignified farewell.
"..." The director shot the screenwriter a helpless look, as if asking if it was too late to back out of signing her.
The screenwriter gave him a "can’t help you" expression but inwardly sighed in relief. Bai Roushuang sounded like a madwoman—no way the director would take her seriously now.
Both found her eccentric, but Song Ping, standing nearby, seemed moved. He sighed softly. "Junior Sister is right. Director Lü, if you have time, perhaps we can discuss increasing the investment."
The director immediately understood. He turned to Bai Roushuang with a smile. "Send me your detailed ideas later."
"Great!" Bai Roushuang beamed and skipped away. "Senior Brother, I’ll pay you back once I save up!"
Though she was now the sect leader of Dustless Island, she couldn’t use the sect’s treasury for personal whims.
Behind her, the screenwriter rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.
Bai Roushuang happily set about rewriting the script. With real-life references, it was surprisingly easy. Whenever she couldn’t recall details, she’d chase after Xu Shulou with her laptop.
"Senior Sister, do you remember if that leopard demon Wang Erniu was killed or just crippled by you?"
Xu Shulou thought carefully. "The one terrorizing the village? I beat him half to death and sent him to Dustless Island to serve his sentence."
"What about the rabbit demon who made paper cuttings?"
"She’s still on Dustless Island, isn’t she? She cuts our window decorations every New Year."
"Wait, that’s her? Last year, she even went down the mountain with the disciples to sell them for extra income." Bai Roushuang stared at her laptop, deep in thought. "Oh, and what was your record against Senior Brother Lu?"
"I don’t remember how many times we fought," Xu Shulou said modestly. "Just write ‘undefeated.’"
"Got it!"
Bai Roushuang worked with fiery determination, sending sections to the director in no particular order. The first one he opened described Xu Shulang chasing pigs in the back mountains of Lingxiao Sect.
He was baffled. "This is the ‘extraordinary past’ you mentioned?"
"...Yes."
"Hmm, it’s actually quite vivid." After reading it carefully, the director gave Bai Roushuang an appraising look. He’d dealt with actors wanting script changes before, and Bai Roushuang’s reliance on Song Ping’s investment had initially rubbed him the wrong way. But flipping through the pages, he could tell she’d put in genuine effort—not just random tweaks. Each character was vividly portrayed, without gratuitous spotlight-stealing. His prejudice faded slightly, and he began reviewing the rest with more seriousness.
Though the screenwriter was full of discontent, they couldn’t help but follow along and skim through the document, ultimately offering only one remark: "You really seem to love the character Xu Shulou."
Bai Roushuang shook her head. "I’m merely a recorder, faithfully documenting her story."
The screenwriter gave her a sharp look. "Her story?"
"It’s everyone’s story."
"..." The screenwriter muttered to themselves, wondering if this girl was trying a bit too hard to sound profound, speaking in such cryptic terms.
"The addition of the 'love gu' plotline isn’t bad," Director Lü commented as he flipped through the script. "Xu Shulou was originally set up as a prodigy, so suddenly falling head over heels for someone needed some buildup. But this change makes Lu Beichen’s character seem lacking in dignity."
"Real people can’t maintain dignity in every situation."
The director shook his head. "The changes are too drastic. Do you have any idea how much risk I’m taking with this?"
"Fortune favors the bold."
"..."
Bai Roushuang bombarded the director with motivational speeches, covering everything from ideals and sentiment to money and capital. With her centuries of life experience, she spoke so eloquently that both the director and the eavesdropping screenwriter were left utterly convinced.
While Bai Roushuang was busy persuading the director, Xu Shulou had it easy.
The crew had two Samoyeds, the director’s dogs. Since he was often away filming, he brought them along. They were fluffy, white, and endlessly affectionate toward everyone. Xu Shulou adored them, often spending her free time petting them and even taking over their walks. The dogs were a bit unruly, sometimes refusing to come back, so Xu Shulou frequently performed the feat of carrying one in each arm as she crossed the film studio.
Occasionally, strangers found this amusing and filmed her with their phones. She didn’t mind, sometimes even smiling for the camera—after all, this face wasn’t on any modern wanted lists.
She sampled every restaurant and food stall near the studio, from Western to Chinese cuisine. As always, she had a passion for good food, occasionally bringing back takeout to share with her junior sister, who had spent the day convincing the director, and the rest of the crew. At first, Sheng Wuyou was reserved, but eventually, she couldn’t resist sneaking out at night to join Xu Shulou for barbecue. The two quickly bonded over food and drinks, and soon, nearly half the crew—big and small—joined them, often marching en masse to the food stalls.
When the director finally made up his mind, he asked, "Where are all the actors?"
A crew member replied, "They’re out eating skewers."
"..."
The director rubbed his temples. If the script was overhauled, many actors would need to be renegotiated, and some key roles might even require recasting. Fortunately, with Song Ping’s financial backing, they could afford the delay.
Bai Roushuang spent a long time explaining her vision of the xianxia world to the director. She said that in "xianxia," the emphasis wasn’t on "xian" (immortals) but on "xia" (chivalry)—cultivators roaming the world with freedom and righteousness. She argued that this shouldn’t be a story about one man dominating the world, collecting treasures, and winning beauties’ hearts. Instead, it should be about cultivators encountering all sorts of people and events, gaining insight into the meaning of chivalry. She hoped the show wouldn’t make audiences envy Lu Beichen’s romantic conquests but instead inspire them to yearn for a glimpse of that world of unrestrained heroism.
The director was surprised by her perspective but admitted he was moved. He decided to make "righteous chivalry" the central theme, even though such themes weren’t uncommon in film and TV.
When he first signed onto this project, he had planned to make a quick buck—finish filming in a few months, cut costs for investors, and secure ad revenue upon release. Being called a "trashy show" was inevitable, but as long as the money came in, he could just ignore the criticism. Now, Bai Roushuang’s words rekindled some of his youthful ambition. He gathered the crew for a pep talk: "Even though everyone online says our show will be garbage, let’s at least make it garbage people are willing to eat!"
...Which still meant it was garbage. The crew exchanged glances, unsure how effective this motivation was. But regardless, "Path of the Immortals" began filming in full swing, despite the skepticism.
As a major investor, Song Ping received the revised script immediately. He shook his head regretfully. "If mortals these days could still develop spiritual roots, this would’ve been a great promotional piece for Dustless Island."
Bai Roushuang gave him a thumbs-up. "Now that’s a businessman’s mindset."
"Me, a businessman?" Song Ping laughed. "Your sixth senior brother and you, selling fasting pills for years—now that’s a proper businessman. That kid even promised to help me start a pharmaceutical company in the mortal world, but after handing over a pill recipe, he ran off to become a race car driver."
"I went to watch one of his races," Bai Roushuang mused. "I’m glad he found something he loves."
Song Ping smiled. Whether for mortals or long-lived cultivators, finding passion was always a joy. "What about you? Do you like acting?"
Bai Roushuang’s eyes curved into crescents. "It’s fun."
"Planning to stick with it?"
"No," she shook her head. "I have to return to Dustless Island and take over as sect leader. Maybe I’ll come back to the mortal world occasionally to try out new careers."
"Like what?"
"Haven’t decided yet," she chuckled. "My senior sister is even crazier—she once wanted to work at a hair salon, designing hairstyles on a whim. Thankfully, she gave up, or else how many heartbroken customers would’ve left the salon in tears?"
"..."
"Path of the Immortals" officially began filming. With its harem-themed script, last-minute recasts, and a lead actress who had never acted before—even the original Lu Beichen actor quit over the script changes—the public was pessimistic. The director stayed calm, first releasing a teaser of Bai Roushuang on set.
Her appearance was indeed deceptive. Dressed in an elegant white dress, she tilted her head slightly in the morning light, offering a soft smile, the pearl hairpin at her temple trembling gently. Many had to admit she was perfectly cast—like a delicate white flower swaying in the breeze.
The new actor playing Lu Beichen was also unknown but handsome. Some viewers admitted they might tune in out of boredom, reasoning that even if the plot was weak, watching the leads’ romance would at least pass the time.
The director had truly gone all out, negotiating a late-night weekly broadcast contract with the TV station. The show was filmed and aired simultaneously, with one episode shot and broadcast each week. Bai Roushuang worked closely with them to urgently revise the script for the following week. This model carried both risks and rewards—if the ratings were poor, the TV station would promptly cancel it. But if it became a hit, attracting more investment, the production quality of later episodes would improve significantly.
Xu Shulou had absolutely no acting skills to speak of, but when it came to playing herself, no one could have been more suitable.
For her, this journey was utterly fascinating—like retracing the steps of her life, reliving past emotions, whether joy or sorrow, surprise or anger. As her memories gradually resurfaced, her "performance" grew more and more natural, leaving the producer who had once witnessed her awkward line delivery utterly baffled.
After the first two episodes were filmed, the director submitted the previews for review, and the rest of the team anxiously awaited the broadcast. The director appeared calm on the surface, but inwardly, he was even more nervous than the others. The script had been drastically altered, and he bore immense pressure. On sleepless nights, he rewatched those two episodes over and over.
The first episode featured a fight scene between Xu Shulou and Bai Roushuang, depicting a moment before the trial where Xu Shulou instructed her junior sister. This sequence was exceptionally well-executed—one wielded a sword, the other a jade fan. Though both were just plastic props, the two fought with the intensity of real blades, their movements perfectly synchronized. They performed high-difficulty stunts like aerial flips without needing any special effects—or even wires.
At this stage, the director consoled himself by repeatedly watching this scene, convinced the show would be a hit. Even if it wasn’t, at least the fight choreography was impressive, ensuring it wouldn’t be remembered solely for criticism.
Xu Shulou also proved to be an excellent martial arts instructor. The actor playing Lu Beichen had initially known nothing about combat, but under her guidance, he quickly learned to wield a sword convincingly. Though his moves were purely for show and lacked real power, they looked impressive enough on camera. There was just one small side effect—the actor couldn’t help but gaze at Xu Shulou with starry-eyed admiration, which completely clashed with Lu Beichen’s character. The director corrected him multiple times, but to little avail.
Sheng Wuyou didn’t appear in the early episodes, but she often stayed on set to observe and learn. The director naturally took a liking to such a diligent actress and occasionally suggested changing her role—no longer playing Qi Wutong, who had been rewritten as a villain. But Sheng Wuyou herself was eager to take on the challenge of portraying an antagonist.
Unlike the director’s anxiety, Xu Shulou remained largely unfazed. She gave her all during filming, but what happened afterward was beyond her control. While waiting for the premiere, she continued gathering friends to raid nearby food stalls. The sheer variety of modern cuisine and drinks delighted her—one day it was barbecue, the next hotpot—she lived freely and happily.
Once, they encountered a drunkard causing trouble, cursing and overturning tables, smashing an entire setting of dishes and cups. One of Xu Shulou’s friends stood up to intervene and was shoved by the belligerent drunk. Immediately, crew members from nearby stalls rose to their feet, forming a crowd large enough to encircle the troublemaker several times over.
The sheer numbers sobered the drunkard in an instant. Seizing a gap, he bolted. The others had no intention of escalating things physically, so they let him go, leaving the furious stall owner shouting after him to pay for the broken dishes. After a moment’s thought, Xu Shulou gave chase. Seeing only a woman pursuing him, the drunk turned and threw a punch, hoping to scare her off and escape. But Xu Shulou caught his fist, yanked it sharply, and with a crisp crack, dislocated his arm.
The drunk howled in pain and thrashed violently. Xu Shulou pinned him down and gently advised, "Stop struggling. I’m genuinely worried I might accidentally cause you irreversible harm."
She was truly troubled by this. It had been so long since Xu Shulou had fought an ordinary person that she feared misjudging her strength—either killing him or leaving him permanently disabled.
"..." The drunk nearly burst into tears. "Help! Someone save me!"
The rest of the crew finally caught up, gasping at the sight of the drunk’s dislocated arm. The staff member Xu Shulou had rescued from the game earlier gaped in shock, trembling as he asked, "Don’t martial artists... value inner peace?"
Xu Shulou kept the drunk pinned, considered her own heartbeat, and answered earnestly, "I’m actually quite at peace when I hit people."
"..."
