Chi Qingshui felt her restless, fluttering heart settle back down to earth the moment she heard Lin Yu’s words.
She followed his advice, taking deep breaths to regulate her rhythm.
After repeating this three times, the lump in her throat eased significantly.
"Where did you learn that? It actually works..."
"You could tell I was nervous right from the start, couldn't you?"
"Sigh, I thought I could handle it, but once I got on set, I really started panicking a bit... a lot."
Lin Yu chuckled and mimicked her, "A bit... a lot... panicked."
"Yeah, I can see that. I can definitely tell you're 'a bit a lot' panicked."
Chi Qingshui finally realized her slip of the tongue.
She gave Lin Yu a playful smack on the arm.
After bantering for a moment, the tension in Chi Qingshui's heart released considerably.
Lin Yu then said seriously:
"Qingshui, there’s absolutely no need to worry. You can definitely hold down the fort!"
"And if there's anything you can't handle, you've still got me, right?"
"This isn't a duel; you don't have to fight this battle alone. I'm right here by your side, ready to help you at any time."
[Ding!]
[Stellar performance! The Saint's heartwarming assistance and heartfelt words have deeply moved his Dao Companion!]
[Reward: 80 Spirit Stones]
Chi Qingshui nodded and quickly pulled Lin Yu back into the classroom.
……
The set was ready, and everyone was in position.
Chi Qingshui looked at the temporary assistants standing by the two cameras.
After confirming with eye contact, Chi Qingshui picked up the slate and shouted at the lens:
"Positions, everyone! Scene one, shot one, take one... Action!"
*Clack!*
The crisp sound of the slate echoed.
Like a starting pistol, it instantly snapped everyone on set—leads and extras alike—into character.
Lin Yu was dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, his hair slicked back as if it had been licked by a cow.
He pushed the door open and walked in from the outside, his face filled with shock.
His expression was spot-on, his acting incredibly realistic.
Just as Lin Yu felt the first take was going incredibly smoothly...
Chi Qingshui’s voice rang out:
"Cut!"
"No, that’s not right."
Lin Yu froze. "???"
Not right?
Him?
But his acting was so good!
Clutching the script, Chi Qingshui explained to Lin Yu:
"Lin Yu, your reaction was too early."
"The shocked expression was great, but you shouldn't show it so soon."
"When you enter the door, there needs to be a progression from calm to shock."
Lin Yu: "!!!"
Got it.
Now *this* is what you call professional!
"Understood. Let's go again. Sorry, everyone!"
Lin Yu instantly grasped what Chi Qingshui meant, retreated outside the door, and prepared for another take.
"Positions everyone! Scene one, shot one, take two... Action!"
*Clack!*
Before studying this major, Lin Yu always thought that using the slate to mark the scene, shot, and take in movies and TV shows was purely to create a professional atmosphere.
And the script supervisor—what could they possibly be recording?
Weren't they just writing down what was filmed that day in a notebook?
Couldn't anyone do that job?
What was the point of such heavy formality?
It was only after actually studying it that he realized its importance.
It really was a case of "interlaced worlds are like mountains apart."
To be precise, marking the scene, shot, and take before every recording wasn't for the benefit of the scriptwriters or production crew.
It was for the post-production editors!
The same applied to the script supervisor's logs.
They needed to record which take was usable and which was a safety take.
That way, during post-production, editors could quickly identify usable footage from thousands of clips.
It wasn't just about setting a mood!
Why clap the slate in front of the lens?
Because when viewing the files in a folder later, the text on the slate is clearly visible in the thumbnail before the video is even opened.
By the second take, Lin Yu’s reaction and emotions were spot on.
Wang Biao, playing the **Homeroom Teacher**, provided excellent support from the side.
You had to hand it to him; he was a solid friend.
Even though it was made clear that this shot wouldn't capture a close-up of his face—meaning he could have just read the lines without investing much emotion—
Brother Biao still brought his A-game, completely immersing himself in the character.
When he delivered the line, "Student **Xia Luo** has lost his memory," the main camera continued to pan slowly, following **Xia Luo**'s movements.
Meanwhile, the secondary camera captured a wide safety shot, recording the smiles of the students on set.
Chi Qingshui stood by the main camera, checking the shot.
The high school atmosphere created in the lens was perfect, without a hint of incongruity.
Normally, a director would be stationed in front of a monitor.
But student film crews were poor!
The equipment available to borrow from the school didn't include monitors.
So, she had to stand behind the camera and rely on the tiny viewfinder screen to judge the footage.
Lin Yu walked to the last row, stopping in front of Xiao Chi, who was playing Ma Dongmei.
Xiao Chi had a popsicle hanging from her mouth and stared blankly at Lin Yu with a dull expression.
The vibe she projected was actually quite similar to Xiao Chi’s real personality.
Just as Lin Yu reached out to pinch Xiao Chi’s face...
"Cut!"
"Excellent! That's a wrap for this take!"
Chi Qingshui called "Cut" at just the right moment, temporarily halting the scene.
There was no helping it.
Poor crews had their own way of doing things.
Since they didn't have enough cameras, they had to waste the cast's time, shooting take after take, pass after pass.
This was where the storyboard script played a crucial role.
The script explicitly stated that the shot of Lin Yu pinching Xiao Chi's face required a close-up.
Therefore, there was no need to capture that part in the wide shot; doing so would be a waste of effort.
Unless there was a major continuity error in the close-up, the wide shot would never be used for that specific moment.
A detailed storyboard could save the production team a significant amount of time.
"Keep the camera steady. This time we're focusing on 'Teacher Wang'!"
"Lin Yu, walk through the scene again to give Teacher Wang an eyeline."
"Teacher Wang, are we good to start? Do you need a moment to prepare?"
Chi Qingshui asked Wang Biao politely.
Wang Biao flashed an OK sign and replied:
"Director, we can start immediately. I'm always ready!"
Within the same framing, Wang Biao, playing Teacher Wang, became the subject of the shot.
Lin Yu had to walk around the classroom again, matching his previous rhythm, to ensure that Teacher Wang's eyeline was correct for every line of dialogue.
If his eyes wandered, or if the movement didn't match the pan shot they just filmed, the final edit would look disjointed and break the viewer's immersion.
Of course, aside from eyelines, there was another crucial rule in academic student film projects.
"Wait, camera operator, pan to the left a bit more. We can't have Teacher Wang on the right side of the frame."
"Let me check that camera. We absolutely must not..."
"Cross the axis!"
……

ver to a world of cultivation and returned invincible. Modern medicine is child's play compared to elixirs; technological might crumbles before true cultivation. My name is Qin Ning, Earth's sole cultivator!

grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)

u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.

with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!