Li Tianjiu's head filled with countless question marks upon hearing Su Xuan's words, wondering if this man had escaped from a psychiatric hospital. He, a venerable director, was no actor. How could someone ask him to be in a film?
But with a knife at his throat, Li Tianjiu dared not show any signs of resistance. He simply asked, puzzled, "Brother, you must have the wrong person. I'm not an actor; I'm the deputy director of Qingshui City."
"Right, I'm looking for the deputy director," Su Xuan said.
"Ah, brother, what kind of film do you want to shoot? If you need someone to act, I can find you better actors, even A-list stars," Li Tianjiu really hoped the man with the knife on his neck was insane—that would make things much easier.
"A romantic action movie, hurry up and strip," Su Xuan moved the knife from Li Tianjiu's neck, pushed him, and Li Tianjiu's corpulent body immediately fell to the ground.
