Chapter Ninety-Four: Wrapping Up Filming

As time passed, filming of The Drummer was drawing to a close, and today the crew was shooting the final wrap-up scenes.

During the shoot, the entire production team was filled with a sense of reluctance, and many of the staff wore that feeling plainly on their faces.

They could not help but marvel at how quickly time had flown. More than two or three months of filming had vanished in an instant, and it almost felt as though they had only just joined the production, still lingering in those first days on set.

The stretch of time they spent working on The Drummer was, without question, one of the most comfortable periods of their careers. The atmosphere on set was truly one of a kind, without any of the pretension or airs that some productions foster. Everyone shared a single goal: to put their hearts together and make the drama a success. There was no backstabbing, no scheming, none of that ugliness.

What was more, the leads this time were the young actors Zhou Yang and Zhang Xiaofeng. They were not the sort to play mind games with the crew, and working with them was easy and pleasant. In some situations, the staff could even treat them like friends.

Everyone could joke with one another from time to time, something that was simply impossible on most sets.

In the majority of productions, hierarchy was deeply entrenched. The treatment of the leads and the supporting cast was like heaven and earth, and if the gap between them was already so wide, one could only imagine how staff were treated.

Some crews even treated the staff like servants to be ordered about at will. Worrying that the water might be dirty when shooting a water scene, they would buy imported mineral water and fill an entire pool with it. Such things were common.

There were also so-called celebrity actors whose fame was not all that great, yet who carried themselves with outrageous pomp. Even when filming, they were surrounded by more than a dozen staff members, and to anyone who did not know better, they looked like gangsters.

Meanwhile, other renowned veteran actors did not bring so many people—some came with only one assistant, and others did not even bring that much. The greater the ostentation, the less impressive the person often turned out to be.

None of that was seen in the The Drummer crew. There was no one arriving with a dozen assistants. As for status, Zhou Ran’s was certainly high enough; in today’s entertainment world, there were not many whose fame surpassed his. He was, without question, one of the brightest stars in the industry.

And yet when Zhou Ran came to the set, he did not bring a single staff member. He did everything himself, and he got along very well with everyone there.

There was not the slightest hint of diva behavior. Even when the staff occasionally made mistakes or caused him some inconvenience, Zhou Ran never made a fuss. He knew how hard their work was, and he had lived through those difficult days himself in his previous life, so he understood that feeling all too well.

As long as it did not cross Zhou Ran’s bottom line, he was perfectly willing to joke around. He would never act one way to someone’s face and another behind their back, pretending not to care while secretly running to complain. Zhou Ran simply could not bring himself to do something so petty.

Because of that, many of the staff had gone from being indifferent to becoming fans of his.

If a production wanted to run smoothly, harmony on set was the bare minimum.

When Zhang Xiaofeng filmed her wrap-up scene, her expression was also full of reluctance. She had finally gotten the chance to spend so much time with Zhou Ran, and now, after today, they would each return to their own work. It was only natural that she felt a little reluctant to part.

So today Zhang Xiaofeng seemed a little off. She kept drifting into distraction, but once filming began, she still managed to pull herself together and keep those emotions in check. She could not allow her personal feelings to affect the schedule of the entire crew.

In truth, she was not the only one feeling this way. Zhou Ran felt the same when he filmed the wrap-up scenes. This was the first time he had played a male lead, and also the first movie he had ever made. For Zhou Ran, it was destined to become an unforgettable memory.

Although he had learned a great deal during this period, and had gone from a complete novice to someone who could barely hold his own as a leading actor, Zhou Ran still felt very fortunate. In his very first film since debuting, he had been able to work on such a good set instead of being wasted in some terrible production. He truly believed himself to be lucky.

And here, he still owed his thanks to Director Huang.

If not for Huang’s encouragement and guidance while he was filming, Zhou Ran would never have reached this level of acting today.

Even with talent, without someone to teach and nurture him, his ultimate achievements would have been quite limited. In this circle, people with so-called talent were certainly not rare. In the end, those who truly stood out still needed the help and cultivation of others to gradually succeed.

History has long shown that working behind closed doors leads nowhere. If Zhou Ran wanted to learn and improve, he had to lower himself, learn humbly from others, ask for advice, and constantly distill his own experience. Only then could he more easily climb to greater heights, instead of stubbornly getting lost in dead ends.

"Zhou Ran, come on, it’s time to shoot. There’s only one last shot left. Once that’s done, we’re finished."

Huang, looking at Zhou Ran, who was standing off to the side in a daze, waved him over and called out.

"Okay!"

After hearing Director Huang’s voice, Zhou Ran immediately ran over, gathered his thoughts, and prepared to film the final wrap-up scene.

"Okay, wrap!"

In fact, the final wrap-up shot was the simplest of all and did not need to be filmed multiple times; it passed in one take. So Huang simply shot it through once.

With Huang’s shout of "wrap," the entire filming process officially came to an end. In truth, at that moment, Huang also felt a sudden pang of loss in his heart.

After all, this was his first feature film, and firsts always carry a stronger sense of remembrance. On top of that, working with Zhou Ran and the others had truly been very pleasant. They usually laughed and talked together, filming seriously when it was time to work and chatting like friends when they were not.

Still, after thinking it over, Huang felt somewhat reassured. Just because filming had ended did not mean they would never see each other again.