Chapter 129 Who’s Really Got Some Skills?

The moment the words left her mouth, before the crew could even react, A-Ning stepped forward. His movements were light and agile, like a bird. With a few kicks against the wall, he propelled himself upward, and within seconds, he effortlessly climbed onto the rooftop. He stood steadily on the tiles, posture straight, silver hair gently swaying in the wind, purple eyes clear and bright, radiating a pure yet striking aura.

Then, lightly tapping the tiles with his feet, he began moving across the rooftop with remarkable speed. His steps were nimble, movements smooth, even incorporating jumps and spins. His body moved with the grace and strength of a martial arts expert, completely unlike an ordinary person. Everyone watching was stunned.

The crew holding cameras forgot to film for a moment. The director stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide, unable to utter a word for what felt like forever.

Bai Tianjiao and the other celebrity guests also lifted their heads, staring at A-Ning on the rooftop in complete disbelief.

Is this what a normal scenic area staff member’s professional skill should look like?!!!

You’re making the rest of us feel so inferior!!!

Even Miao Yunyou felt this was a bit over the top and quickly coughed, calling up to the rooftop:
“Ahem! Come on, A-Ning, get down! Let’s follow the production team’s plan—let’s attach the wires first, safety comes first.”

Hearing Miao Yunyou, A-Ning immediately paused. He nodded politely toward the ground, voice obedient and gentle: “Okay, Sect Leader!”

Before she finished speaking, he lightly leapt off the roof like a feather. His feet landed perfectly, making no sound, with only a gentle sway of his clothing, as if the breathtaking rooftop display had been just a trivial little trick.

The crew: “……”

Why does it feel like he’s just toying with us?

The first two days had already captured the main flow of the show. The third day was mostly for supplementary shots—like that morning, filming the scene of the bamboo prop flinging the weapon.

The crew arrived at the plum blossom stake area and retrieved the “murder weapon,” a silver short knife, preparing to film the shot of the killer using the bamboo to launch it.

No matter how hard they tried—even with five people working together—they couldn’t make it work. Their strength was too weak. Even giving it their all, gritting their teeth, turning red in the face, veins bulging on their foreheads, they couldn’t push the bamboo down enough. Once released, the bamboo lacked the necessary spring to propel the weapon to the distant cliff. At best, it flew only a few dozen meters—barely covering the plum blossom stake area. It looked completely fake and didn’t match the script’s intended effect.

They tried repeatedly, all in vain.

Sweaty and exhausted, arms aching, shoulders throbbing, faces full of helplessness and frustration, the crew groaned: “No way… there’s no way we have the strength to do this. It’s impossible!”

The director frowned, gazing into the distance. He waved helplessly and sighed: “Forget it. Let’s just handle this with post-production effects. As long as the audience gets the idea, that’s enough. There’s no way we can achieve this physically.”

Continuing to try would only waste time and energy. No need.

Nearby, Miao Yunyou watched the scene, tossing some nuts into her mouth, curiosity piqued. She glanced at Wei Zijun, a bit puzzled: “Honestly… that distance, can you really fling it with just bamboo? I don’t think it’s possible.”

Wei Zijun had originally planned to go practice some martial arts, but the production team had been messing around for so long without success that he had just stayed by Miao Yunyou’s side, waiting.

Casually, he helped Miao Yunyou crack a walnut, pressing lightly with his fingertips. “Crack!” The hard shell split effortlessly, revealing a full, intact walnut, which he handed to Miao Yunyou. His movements were smooth and natural, completely practiced.

Hearing Miao Yunyou’s remark, Wei Zijun paused, thought for a moment, then said with earnest simplicity: “Sect Leader, I’m not really sure… but I think it should work.”

Miao Yunyou pulled out a walkie-talkie, pressed the talk button, and said cheerfully: “Hello, hello! Is anyone near the cliff? Can you check if anyone’s there?”

A temporary worker responded respectfully and clearly, with no hesitation: “Reporting to Sect Leader, there’s no one by the cliff at this time. Only I am cleaning.”

Miao Yunyou: “Received! Stay a bit farther from that side for now. We’re going to do a test—throw something over. Later, just tell us where it lands.”

Temporary worker: “Understood, Sect Leader!”

At this moment, the production crew finally gave up, just having withdrawn from the plum blossom stake area.

Taking the opportunity, Wei Zijun set aside the other items, holding only a walnut. He briskly walked to the innermost part of the stake area, picked the thickest bamboo stalk, and lightly leapt onto it. His feet planted firmly, he crouched slightly.

Then he grabbed a nearby bamboo stalk with both hands, pressed down with all his strength—legs and arms working together—pushing it as hard as possible.

“Creak!” The bamboo bent to its lowest point, nearly touching the ground, taut and trembling, as if it would snap any second.

At that moment, Wei Zijun suddenly released his grip and sprang back. The bamboo snapped upward with tremendous force, propelling the walnut with incredible speed.

The walnut arced beautifully through the air, flying toward the cliff.

A few seconds later, the temporary worker reported: “Sect Leader, I see a walnut… it landed near the swing.”

It actually worked! The prop weapon written in the script had landed exactly by the swing!

Miao Yunyou’s face lit up with amazement. She couldn’t help exclaiming: “Wow! The writers really know what they’re doing—what they wrote can actually work in real life!”

Wei Zijun nodded in agreement: “Really impressive.”

Miao Yunyou: “Exactly, exactly.”

Everyone from the production team present was stunned into silence, even forgetting to breathe.

Earlier, the crew had been so exhausted they were slumped on the ground—but now they all jumped up, eyes fixed on Wei Zijun. Shock and disbelief filled their gazes. Some even rubbed their eyes, thinking they must be seeing things, unwilling to believe what was in front of them.

The director stood with his mouth agape, unable to speak. After a long moment, lips trembling slightly, he murmured to himself: “…Who… actually… has some real skills…?”