Chapter 230: Hello Everyone, I Am Fried Pig Trotters
The manager's hand, which had been about to reach for his phone, hesitated and quietly drew back.
In such a beautifully lit restaurant, with dishes so exquisitely presented—not being able to take photos to show off to his friends was pure torture!
How could he share this incredible dining experience with others if he didn't record it with a few pictures?
It was painful.
But then again, President Pei's reasoning seemed… kind of convincing.
Food of this caliber wasn't just meant to be tasted with the tongue—it was meant to be felt with the heart.
If one ate with the mindset of showing off to others, then their focus would inevitably waver, and their ability to truly appreciate the flavor would be diminished.
It was like admiring a fine piece of art—some people devote all their attention to the artwork itself, losing themselves in its breathtaking beauty; while others are busy fiddling with their cameras, thinking about lighting and composition, and in doing so, miss out on the emotional impact of the moment.
And when it came to fine dining, concentration was even more essential.
If your attention was spent posing for photos, your mind couldn't fully savor the food.
From that perspective, President Pei's logic really made sense!
The manager quietly put his phone away, giving up entirely on the idea of taking any pictures.
Beside him, a waiter was carefully handling the massive king crab, delicately snipping open the legs with a fine pair of scissors, extracting the snow-white meat, and scooping the golden crab roe from the shell. He neatly arranged them together, set dipping sauces in front of each person, and gestured for them to begin.
This was just the first course—the best parts of the crab.
The rest, such as the massive claws, were taken back to the kitchen for further preparation.
Once all the remaining meat was carefully extracted, it would be brought back to the table.
Pei Qian raised his hand slightly. "Mr. Zhang, please."
The fragrant aroma of crab filled the air, making both Zhang Zuting and his manager's appetites surge.
Especially the manager—he felt this trip to Jingzhou had been so worth it!
Sure, Zhang Zuting was getting a two-million-yuan endorsement fee, but the manager himself wasn't earning a cent from it.
To him, this trip had been nothing more than a routine business visit—no expectations, no excitement.
Who could have guessed he'd end up eating such an extraordinary meal?
Even if he'd just flown all the way to Jingzhou to eat this king crab, it would've been worth every bit of the trouble!
As Zhang Zuting ate, a wave of gratitude welled up in his heart.
He could feel President Pei's sincerity and thoughtfulness!
Even though tomorrow's shooting schedule wasn't particularly heavy, he was determined to give it his all—to perform with 120% of his ability and make sure the commercial turned out perfectly.
. . .
The next morning, at the studio.
Zhang Zuting was already dressed and ready, looking quite imposing.
He wore a suit of silver-red armor with two intricately crafted golden dragon heads on the shoulders—the workmanship was excellent, and the whole costume exuded a sense of grandeur.
It was a fully custom-made outfit, modeled after the top-tier costume from "Blood War Anthem: Enhanced Edition."
In his hand was a massive golden blade, nearly as tall as a man, gleaming under the studio lights.
Of course, neither the armor nor the weapon was made of metal, so they weren't heavy, and Zhang Zuting could swing them without too much effort.
Still, as he looked at his reflection, Zhang Zuting stood frozen in place.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What am I doing here?
After last night's dinner, he'd sworn to repay President Pei's generosity with his utmost dedication.
But the moment he stepped into the studio this morning—everything he saw left him completely dumbfounded.
What the hell was this?!
What was with this over-the-top costume and prop?!
Zhang Zuting had filmed plenty of historical dramas before—but he had never seen armor or weapons this over-the-top.
Holding the massive golden blade in his hands, he could practically see imaginary "-1"s floating above his head, as if his IQ was steadily dropping by the second.
He turned to look at President Pei in bewilderment, only to see President Pei giving him a big thumbs-up, his face full of satisfaction.
"Here are your lines. Take a look—they're very simple, just a few sentences," one of the staff members said, handing him a printed sheet.
It was a single page, with the text printed in a huge font—clearly to make sure Zhang Zuting could read it easily, just in case he was farsighted.
He accepted the page confidently.
Memorizing lines? Piece of cake.
He wasn't like those "fresh meat" actors who just counted "one, two, three, four" and relied on post-production dubbing to match the lip movements.
He actually memorized his lines properly.
Sure, sometimes his Hong Kong-accented Mandarin meant his voice would be dubbed later—but his lip-sync was always spot-on.
Then he looked at the text.
"Hello everyone, I'm Zhang Zuting. I've played in many shows, but when it comes to games, I only play Blood War Anthem: Enhanced Edition! A fair game where everyone can experience the joy of being a tycoon— come and you'll profit for sure! On tonight's battlefield, I'll be your brother-in-arms!"
"Zhang Zuting endorses Blood War Anthem: Enhanced Edition! This game is amazing—miss it, and you'll have to wait 120 years!"
"This is a brand-new version you've never played before! Just three minutes of gameplay, and you'll fall in love with it—just like me!"
…
And so on—less than ten lines total, all fitting neatly on one page.
Zhang Zuting was stunned.
Where was the script?
He was an award-winning actor, thank you very much!
Sure, his fame had faded a bit over the years, but he'd honed his craft through constant effort.
He'd been ready to give a powerhouse performance—and this… this was what he got?
These weren't lines!
They were cheap ad slogans!
How was he supposed to display any acting skill with this material?
Forget whether these few sentences were worth the two million yuan endorsement fee—even this custom-made costume and prop set felt completely wasted!
Zhang Zuting turned toward Pei Qian again, hoping for some clarification—but President Pei simply gave him another encouraging thumbs-up.
Taking a deep breath, Zhang Zuting steadied himself, scanned the lines a few more times, and memorized everything.
Pei Qian stood beside the director and said calmly,
"It's fine—let's start filming right away. I trust in Mr. Zhang's professionalism."
Pei Qian couldn't care less about Zhang Zuting's acting quality. All he needed was for the man to look into the camera and say the lines.
The moment he heard "action," Zhang Zuting instantly switched gears.
And to be fair—a veteran actor really was built different.
His emotional control, his expression, his energy—everything came alive as he threw himself completely into the role.
"Hello everyone, I am Fried Pig Trotters. I've acted in many shows—"
Hearing that perfectly authentic Hong Kong-accented Mandarin, Pei Qian nearly burst out laughing.
Yes! That's the flavor!
However… compared to the original version, there was one small issue—Zhang Zuting was too professional.
He was too invested, his delivery too polished.
Even with the thick accent, it still lacked the ridiculous, meme-worthy charm of the legendary "Zhazhahui" commercial.
Back when the real Zhazhahui filmed his ad, he'd been exhausted, distracted, and totally unenergetic—and that's what created the iconic, hilariously awkward performance.
But Zhang Zuting?
He'd just eaten king crab last night, had a perfect night's rest, and was brimming with energy and gratitude toward Pei Qian. So instead of a disaster, he delivered a solid, passionate performance.
And that, ironically, made it worse.
"This is the brand-new version you've never plaved before! Just three minute experience, and you will be like me—love this game!"
When he finished the last line and heard the director call, "Cut!", Zhang Zuting looked toward Pei Qian again.
President Pei raised his thumb once more, smiling approvingly.
Zhang Zuting's confidence, however, wavered.
Was this… really okay?
While he was saying the lines, the sheer awkwardness had made his skin crawl.
If not for years of acting discipline, he might've broken down laughing mid-shoot.
And yet President Pei actually seemed happy with it?
Impossible—there had to be room for improvement!
Sure enough, the crew didn't disperse right away. Pei Qian walked up to Zhang Zuting and offered a few simple notes.
"Mr. Zhang, that take was excellent!"
"But… there's just a tiny bit of room for improvement."
"You see, we're not shooting a serious movie here—it's a commercial."
"In this ad, you're playing the role of a veteran gamer—the big brother figure among players. Try to be a bit more relaxed, a little lazy and casual. That'll make you seem more approachable."
"Don't hold yourself so stiffly. Just empty your mind and say the lines in the most casual way possible."
When President Pei came over, Zhang Zuting thought he was going to discuss acting nuances or suggest rewriting some awkward lines.
Instead, President Pei was actually asking him to tone down his acting?
More lazy? More casual?
Zhang Zuting was bewildered—but since President Pei was the client, all he could do was try.
They started filming again.
"Hello everyone, I am Fried Pig Trotters. I've acted in many shows—"
This time, Zhang Zuting's delivery was much closer to what Pei Qian wanted—his performance completely collapsed, the acting flat and awkward, the cringe factor rising through the roof.
Pei Qian nodded in satisfaction.
Perfect. That's the flavor!
It still wasn't flawless—Zhang Zuting's professionalism had prevented him from achieving true disaster—but Pei Qian was already quite pleased with the result.
When the director called "Cut!" again, Zhang Zuting felt utterly defeated.
This take was even more awkward than the first!
It was so bad it could almost pierce the heavens!
As a veteran actor, it had been years since he'd felt this kind of helplessness—that awful realization that no matter what he did, he couldn't make the scene work.
Right now, he felt like a clueless extra fumbling through his first role.
"President Pei, I'm sorry—I wasn't quite in the right state. Let me find the right feeling and shoot one more take—"
Zhang Zuting was ready to pause, clear his mind, and rethink how to deliver those ad lines properly.
But Pei Qian quickly waved his hands.
"No need! That take was perfect—absolutely perfect! No need for another."
"The shoot is finished. You can return to the hotel and rest. I'll have someone escort you to the airport this afternoon."
"It's been a real pleasure working with you!"
Zhang Zuting blinked.
Wait, that's it? We're done?
He checked his watch.
He had arrived at the studio at 9:00 AM, spent half an hour on makeup, another ten minutes putting on the armor, ten minutes memorizing lines, and two short takes.
Now it wasn't even 10:00—and they were completely finished?
Zhang Zuting looked troubled.
"Wait, President Pei! My acting just now wasn't very good—it might affect the ad's quality. We should keep shooting until it's perfect…"
"Also, my Mandarin pronunciation isn't great. You'll probably need to bring in a voice actor later…"
Pei Qian smiled.
"Don't worry, we'll handle it as needed. We'll decide whether to trim the footage or bring in a voice actor depending on what's required."
In other words: if there's no need, we won't trim or dub anything at all.
But Zhang Zuting didn't catch the subtext.
Hearing Pei Qian say they would "consider adding a voice actor," he relaxed a little.
Still, he couldn't help feeling uneasy about his performance.
But since the client himself was satisfied, and the crew was already packing up, it didn't feel right to insist on another take.
Besides… even if he did another, he wasn't confident he could make those ad lines sound any better.
So Zhang Zuting could only leave, feeling glum.
It wasn't that he was upset about his poor performance—he just felt guilty toward President Pei… and that magnificent king crab from last night.
"You've worked hard today. Please go back to the hotel and rest. You're always welcome to visit Jingzhou again!"
Pei Qian cheerfully saw him off, in excellent spirits.
Because now, with this ad finished, "Blood War Anthem: Enhanced Edition" had officially embarked on its glorious path to losing money!
The commercial would drive away players who hated the tacky, old-school web-game vibe; And since the game itself had no big spending options, it would scare off the rich whales who loved those traditional pay-to-win titles.
A double-layered filter. Absolute perfection!
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