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    Chapter 144: Am I Getting Too Old?

    "The paycheck is insane," Lu Xu sighed.

    "Insane, buddy," Xu Wen parroted back.

    "Insane."

    The two kept sighing about it before reluctantly putting the script down.

    Though the money was tempting, Lu Xu simply didn’t have the courage to accept it. He felt that taking this film would ruin his hard-earned reputation.

    If the movie became a hit, great. But if it flopped, the lead actor would undoubtedly get torn to shreds—a risk Lu Xu couldn’t afford.

    More importantly, Lu Xu didn’t want to disappoint his fans with such a film.

    *Feather of Youth* had been criticized by many in the industry for its simplistic storyline, but compared to *Sanctuary*, *Feather of Youth* might as well be Oscar-worthy, while *Sanctuary* was at best a construction zone.

    Lu Xu had no intention of taking the role, but he couldn’t help but wonder how many names on the producers' wishlist casting list would actually agree.

    Still, he had no doubt that if the production team could offer him such crazy money, the pay for other actors must be just as crazy.

    "So much money..."

    Lu Xu had invested in *Female Grandmaster* himself and knew firsthand how films bleed money—not just in salaries, but also in the massive expenses required to keep a production running.

    A rough estimate suggested that *Sanctuary* would spend several hundred mil on actor salaries alone, not to mention production costs, marketing, and box office distribution fees. Unless it became the breakout hit of the year, it would never recoup its costs.

    Even in Hollywood's money-flushing culture, few productions dared to spend like this.

    ...

    Lu Xu passed on *Sanctuary*, but Xu Wen still had plenty of scripts waiting for him. He had already done low-budget films and big productions like *Reversal City*. At this point, he had no specific genre requirements—as long as the script was decent.

    After lengthy discussions with his agent, Lu Xu whittled it down to a biopic and a sci-fi project—both tough sells in the current market, but the scripts had potential.

    "Choosing between two makes it easier," Lu Xu said. "Neither starts filming soon, so I can still rest for a while."

    "Want to keep looking?" Xu Wen asked.

    The scripts that reached Lu Xu had already been pre-screened, filtering out those clearly unsuitable for him. *Sanctuary* wasn’t a good fit either, but the salary was so stupid money that Xu Wen couldn’t outright reject it on his behalf.

    "Let’s go with these two," Lu Xu shook his head.

    The biopic spanned a long timeline and had layered character work, though its content lacked excitement and likely wouldn’t perform well at the box office.

    As for the sci-fi project, it was next-level creative, but Lu Xu’s only concern was whether current special effects could actually pull off the scenes described.

    Still, no script was perfect. Audience tastes were all over the map, and Lu Xu was simply choosing based on his own preferences. If he happened to connect with an audience who shared his tastes, all the better.

    Lu Xu hadn’t finalized his next project yet, but news of him passing on *Sanctuary* got out fast.

    By the third morning, Yue Hui called him: "Heard you passed on *Sanctuary*?"

    Lu Xu was surprised. "How does everyone already know?"

    "Well, I heard about it. Smart move."

    Lu Xu asked curiously, "Did they invite you too?"

    "I’m not interested," Yue Hui said. "The crew also invited Li Yan, and he turned it down too."

    "No one cares whether we accept or decline, but the news of you rejecting *Sanctuary* is already blowing up online."

    Yue Hui couldn’t resist teasing Lu Xu: "Why does every bad thing involve you?"

    Lu Xu: "..."

    So, he really does have a talent for attracting weirdness.

    Sure enough, as soon as Lu Xu hung up with Yue Hui, he saw the blatant hashtag #LuXuRejectsSanctuary trending.

    "Buddy, you’re really making waves now. Every production team wants to rope you into their drama."

    Lu Xu: "...I’m not royalty yet."

    At the rate he was trending, someone would soon be writing his royal records.

    Better not.

    #MostEmperorsDon’tLiveLong#

    The emperor in *The Son of Heaven* was an exception.

    In any case, the marketers reported the "important news" of Lu Xu rejecting *Sanctuary* and expressed regret over it.

    "This was clearly an opportunity to share the screen with veteran actors and build strong connections with big names. It’s truly a shame Lu Xu passed on it."

    "Lu Xu acts like he’s made it in the film industry—*Deception* and *Feather of Youth* did okay numbers—but objectively speaking, he’s still a small-time player in the broader film world. He has relatively few connections with top directors and established actors. Taking on *Sanctuary* would have clearly helped him close that gap, but for some reason, he turned it down."

    "It really is a wasted chance. Clearly, his agency, Soaring Entertainment, has deep roots in the industry, and his agent, Xu Wen, has good networking. No idea why they’d drop the ball like that."

    While the marketers lamented Lu Xu’s "missed opportunity," renowned director Zhang Zhizhen commented, "This just proves he’s not movie material."

    Here we go again—blaming John Logie Baird.

    This time, Lu Xu didn’t blame John Logie Baird—he blamed the Lumière brothers. If they hadn’t invented cinema, Zhang Zhizhen wouldn’t be running his mouth.

    In reality, while negotiating with Lu Xu, the *Sanctuary* crew was also reaching out to other actors in the industry, grandly assembling their "wishlist" while declaring that *Sanctuary* would be a next-level, world-class VFX blockbuster, showcasing the pinnacle of Chinese cinema’s industrial prowess.

    "Money is no object."

    "We’ll bet the farm if needed, but *Sanctuary* will be made!"

    Lu Xu: "..."

    In short, his refusal to join *Sanctuary* was a colossal loss.

    After all this hype from the *Sanctuary* team, Lu Xu couldn’t even bring himself to admit that he turned it down simply because he thought the script was weak.

    "Let’s just say I’m not skilled enough for such a big-league project."

    But...

    "...I genuinely can’t see how this script is supposed to save Chinese cinema." Lu Xu’s eyebrows scrunched up—his agent had banned him from making that expression because, while his face was usually handsome, it made him look ridiculous.

    "It might’ve had a shot at survival, but with this ‘rescue,’ it’s done for."

    Xu Wen: "...Last resort?"

    Lu Xu blinked: "I guess that’s the only way to see it."

    Then he definitely shouldn’t get involved. Maybe the Chinese film industry was doomed anyway, but if he got involved, he'd be the one to perish instead.

    Lu Xu hadn’t paid much attention to the aftermath of projects he turned down before, whether they flopped or became hits.

    Even though marketers love making those ‘rejected but hit’ lists, Lu Xu felt that once he declined, there was nothing to regret.

    Since the decision was his own, he naturally had to take responsibility for it.

    The reason he noticed *Sanctuary* was because it was a masterclass in self-promotion.

    One day, it was a Hollywood VFX partnership; the next, some award-winning actor or superstar joined *Sanctuary*, and the day after that, it would take a cheap shot at Lu Xu, saying he’d regret rejecting *Sanctuary* for the rest of his life.

    Thankfully, Yue Hui and Li Yan came to Lu Xu’s rescue.

    Yue Hui once mentioned in an interview how many big names had joined *Sanctuary* and sighed, "Now I regret it. Is skipping *Sanctuary* like a Brit passing on *Harry Potter*?"

    Li Yan sighed, "If it weren’t for scheduling conflicts, I would’ve definitely taken *Sanctuary*. It’d be great if it became a franchise—that way, when they make the fourth or fifth installment, I might get a chance to join."

    The *Sanctuary* team were hype masters, but they hadn’t even thought about sequels. With Yue Hui and Li Yan setting them up like this, the crew had to dial back the hype a bit.

    Yue Hui, Li Yan, and Lu Xu had dined together privately and had a rough idea of what *Sanctuary* was really like—not that they could say it out loud.

    In fact, it wasn’t just them. The cast probably knew the deal too, though their individual thoughts varied. Lu Xu, Yue Hui, and Li Yan were all actors who weren’t keen on investing—they had enough money, resources, and dividends. While *Sanctuary* offered high pay, it wasn’t an offer they couldn’t refuse.

    Turns out, *Sanctuary* played out exactly as Lu Xu expected.

    It was true that award-winning actors and actresses had joined, and they had indeed invited a Hollywood special effects team. But the crew’s momentum was entirely front-loaded—after filming began, they suddenly went quiet. Set leaks were few and far between, let alone actual shots of the so-called "award-winning actors going all out on set."

    In fact… the award-winning actors didn’t even spend much time on set.

    After *Sanctuary* started filming, Lu Xu’s mentions in promo dropped off, with the focus shifting to the newly cast lead actor.

    Notably, the lead was a fresh signee under Liu Rennong’s studio, even younger than Lu Xu. After Qi Di’s contract with Liu Rennong’s studio was terminated, the studio’s resources were all funneled to the newcomer, Bei Hong.

    Of course, Bei Hong was crowned the industry’s "top rookie" in recent years.

    But Bei Hong wasn’t satisfied with just headlining *Sanctuary*. He mentioned Lu Xu several times in interviews.

    "I don’t have any intention of surpassing Teacher Lu. He’s my senior."

    "I also don’t think I’m the crew’s second choice. Teacher Lu had his reasons for passing, and if the crew chose me, it must be because I’m right for the character Qiao Baiyu."

    With their lead actor being compared to Lu Xu, the *Sanctuary* team predictably "went full mama bear" (as the media put it), declaring that Lu Xu was a thing of the past and that Bei Hong was now the most important treasure in *Sanctuary*.

    Lu Xu finally snapped: "You’re hogging the spotlight—mind sharing the mic?"

    "*Sanctuary* special appearance: Lu Xu."

    "Say you don’t care, yet you drag Lu Xu into every marketing stunt. Did you cut him a check for this?"

    "LOL, the *Sanctuary* crew’s egos could prop up the sky."

    "OMG, after spectating this mess, I can confirm Lu Xu literally did nothing this time, yet he’s still getting dragged into it."

    "Lu Xu: Who am I? Where am I? What did I do? Woke up to the world on fire."

    "Gotta hand it to Lu Xu—dude can’t catch a break."

    In Lu Xu's view, the *Sanctuary* crew was well-versed in the tactic of denials-by-rumor—name-dropping him eight hundred times a day while shamelessly refusing to admit it.

    After Lu Xu posted that Weibo, the *Sanctuary* crew put on this fake shocked tone: "Teacher Lu, are you overthinking things? You're not involved with *Sanctuary* anymore—why would we bring you up?"

    "Maybe... you're just bored with no new projects?"

    The tone of *Sanctuary*'s official blog was oozing sarcasm.

    So, early the next morning—before even 24 hours had passed since the crew's post—Lu Xu straight-up @'d *Sanctuary*'s official blog: "I'm at your set's entrance. Come on out."

    Come fight me!

    In reality, Lu Xu simply posted a compilation of the 243 promotional articles where Sanctuary kept name-dropping him for self-promotion, including 13 instances where the new lead actor, Bei Hong, emphasized that Lu Xu was his "senior."

    Bei Hong’s implication, of course, was that Lu Xu was too old.

    So Lu Xu pulled out the same sarcastic approach he once used to diss *Watchmen*, mimicking Bei Hong’s fake-sweet tone: "Do I look older?"

    "Not at all!"

    "??? Lmao, shouldn’t actors compete on skill? Why keep hinting that Lu Xu’s old—are you mentally okay?"

    "On one hand, they claim Lu Xu has nothing to do with *Sanctuary*, but on the other, they’ve used him for over a hundred marketing posts. Must be hard for the newbie to get attention without clinging to Lu Xu—can’t stand on your own, huh?"

    "Sure, Lu Xu’s older, but that doesn’t change the fact that Bei Hong looks like a fossil."

    "Just realized Lu Xu only dissed the *Sanctuary* crew once this whole time."

    "The real issue with *Sanctuary*’s trash-talking is—they kept name-dropping Lu Xu during casting, making the industry and fans think he was about to join. Then when he didn’t, they started trashing him nonstop. Isn’t this the same playbook as Zhang Zhizhen? Obsessed with his clout, then throwing a fit after being turned down—what a joke."

    "...Lu Xu didn’t post Bei Hong’s photo, so I won’t either. Don’t wanna ruin everyone’s mood, but let’s just say—his face is a winding, rugged terrain, with features scattered like patchwork and a jawline like a cliffside."

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