004 The Gourmet Human Radar and the "Ex-Girlfriend" Campus Belle of Beijing Film Academy

The next morning, Yan Li was awakened by his alarm clock. As usual, the first thing he did was open the system to check the daily intelligence report.

Daily intelligence typically updates punctually at midnight, while the monthly report refreshes at zero minutes past midnight on the first day of each Gregorian month.

Previously, when Yan Li was attending school, juggling part-time jobs, and rushing between sets, he often stayed up too late and felt drowsy the next day, which hindered his work.

So, after the initial excitement of the system’s first two months—when he eagerly awaited the reports every day—Yan Li got accustomed to checking the intelligence in the morning.

Sometimes, he would even read it while sitting on the toilet, treating it like an electronic newspaper for entertainment and time-saving.

Perhaps due to his recent arrival in Hengdian and the adjustment to a new environment, some of Yan Li’s habits had yet to settle. So instead of bathroom reading, he now sat on his bed to peruse the reports.

[Daily Intelligence ①: The scriptwriter Su Xiaoyu of "Legend of Sui and Tang Heroes" was influenced by the producer and felt the original romance subplot was too thin. Therefore, original female characters such as Li Rongrong were added to expand the storyline, save costs, and broaden the audience base...]

Good heavens, the scriptwriter is being unfairly blamed. The producer also played a role here; with such an absurd script, the writer wouldn’t dare to proceed without the producer’s approval.

Still, the scriptwriter deserves criticism. You’re told to enhance the romance, yet you go and line up female leads like queuing for a rating-III film debut!

[Daily Intelligence ②: Ma Laoda Barbecue at the bustling night market of Wansheng South Street in Hengdian Star Plaza offers fresh ingredients, solid culinary skills, enthusiastic service, and great value for money. (Note: Fatty pork kidney and lamb skewers are must-tries.)]

Alright, another culinary gem added to the list.

With experience, Yan Li marked and saved this intelligence carefully. Then, within the "Food" main category, he created a subcategory named "Hengdian" and filed this information there.

This was Yan Li’s clever way of utilizing the intelligence system.

Thanks to the convenience of the system, he had already discovered over a dozen hidden culinary treasures across multiple areas around the capital city and the nearby film base.

Moreover, this feature wasn’t limited to restaurants alone.

Hotels, barbershops, markets, clothing stores, internet cafés, KTVs, clubs—all the essentials for eating, drinking, entertainment, and daily life could be included.

So much so that friends familiar with Yan Li nicknamed him the “Living Radar,” meaning that wherever he went, good spots were sure to be found.

Now that he was in Hengdian, with a new map to explore, Yan Li felt like he was guarding a trove of new treasures, full of anticipation.

Later, he planned to visit that barbecue place in person. If it didn’t meet expectations, he’d remove it from his collection to uphold his “Living Radar” reputation.

[Daily Intelligence ③: Actress XX from "Legend of Sui and Tang Heroes" is involved romantically with investor XX; Actress XXX and producer XX reportedly spent the night at the Hailin Hotel in the capital city, securing roles through this; Actress XX is dating Actor XXX, who is already married with children.]

Here we go again!

Yan Li found the system rather exasperating since it delighted in revealing such sordid gossip daily.

Every time he joined a new crew, it would spill scandalous rumors about who was sleeping with whom.

From investors keeping mistresses, directors enforcing casting couch rules, to extras engaging in one-night stands—any information deemed intelligence by the system was delivered to him.

The third piece today was just a brief newsflash, outlining relationships without too much detail.

If Yan Li took a particular interest in a pair, more detailed personal intelligence might follow.

Details like when they met, their conversations, gifts exchanged, where their first encounter happened, room numbers, precise timings, and even the positions used would be described meticulously.

How to put it? Even most adult novels paled in comparison to the sensational content within these intelligence reports.

At first, Yan Li found it thrilling, but after seeing so much, he became indifferent, even a bit weary.

For him, unless it involved someone he knew, this information primarily helped him understand the crew’s composition and avoid trouble.

As for the gossip—he had no mood for that. He preferred to focus earnestly on memorizing his script.

[Daily Intelligence ④: New store opening lottery at Hengdian Star Plaza offers a grand prize of a Dayang motorcycle. The ticket location is at...]

Yan Li read this and promptly tossed it into the “Useless Intelligence” category.

The system was powerful but not omnipotent.

Though this report specified where to find the lottery tickets, seeming like a quick chance to make easy money, winning was one matter; actually claiming the prize was quite another.

When Yan Li first acquired the system, he toyed with ideas about gambling and lotteries but quickly realized the hard truth.

Your system is no match for their “systems”!

Some quick cash wasn’t meant for him. The waters ran deep. Occasional small wins were fine, but relying on such schemes daily was futile.

If today’s intelligence had included a scratch card with a modest prize, he might have tried his luck.

But grand prize lotteries at new store openings? He was too low-key to bet on a boss’s generosity.

Just arrived in Hengdian—better to keep a low profile!

[Daily Intelligence ⑤: Makeup artist Wang Xiu (male) has heard that the newly arrived actor Yan Li has been inquiring about him with colleagues, sparking his curiosity. (Note: Wang Xiu’s sexual orientation differs from the norm.)]

Holy crap!

Yan Li nearly jumped out of his skin. What he feared most was happening—his inquiries to avoid Wang Xiu had instead caught the man’s attention.

And this damn system! It now reminded Wang Xiu’s orientation, but why hadn’t it flagged male or female before? Why no pictures now?

The intelligence system could be upgraded; Yan Li knew that.

At first, it only supplied information. Features like bookmarking, searching, and categorizing were added gradually on Yan Li’s suggestions.

However, the system was capricious—upgrade times and functions were unpredictable, and it never notified users after updates. Yan Li had to discover improvements on his own, making the user experience rather mediocre.

But he had nowhere to complain and could only endure.

Even a lousy system was better than none, especially since most functions were quite practical.

Today’s eight intelligence reports included five main ones and three miscellaneous pieces Yan Li promptly filed under the “Trash Bin” category.

After reviewing the "Legend of Sui and Tang Heroes" intelligence once more, Yan Li left his room to grab breakfast.

He had no scenes that morning; his makeup fitting was scheduled for the afternoon, and tomorrow might also involve filming later in the day. Regardless, he would have to be present on set.

Acting was like that: compared to performing on camera, preparation and waiting were the mainstays.

Especially for bit parts with just one or two minutes of screen time and a few lines, actors might endure one or two whole days of waiting. If luck ran out, the painstakingly shot scenes could be cut entirely.

Yan Li had studied at the Beijing Film Academy’s vocational class, a two-year program. Due to the specialty of his major, he started running to sets on weekends from the second semester of his freshman year.

After more than a year, he had been involved with numerous crews. Combined with stories from seniors and upperclassmen, he understood the tricks of working on set and knew exactly what to do at this stage.

Memorize the script and master the lines.

If time allowed, rehearse the scenes and find the character’s mood.

After breakfast, feeling the small hotel room was too stuffy, Yan Li took advantage of the cool morning to wander nearby. Eventually, he found a small grove tucked away on a backstreet.

Finding the spot suitable, he set down his script, loosened up, and began practicing his punches.

Since his Beijing Film Academy instructor had once advised him that martial arts could be a specialty, Yan Li often practiced on his own. With fight scenes imminent, he was reviewing diligently.

Better to sharpen the spear at the last moment than to go unprepared!

At the martial arts school, Yan Li primarily learned Sanda but also trained extensively in traditional martial arts, even more so in the latter.

This was because the school’s students often got invitations to perform at cultural events in nearby counties and cities.

Sanda wasn’t as visually impressive as traditional martial arts; people appreciated the latter’s Chinese martial arts flair. Kicks and punches alone didn’t attract attention.

Hence, the school placed greater emphasis on traditional martial arts, which students preferred since being selected to perform meant outings, good food, and sometimes small stipends.

Yan Li learned many traditional routines and weapons forms, which proved far more useful for shooting period fight scenes than Sanda.

Standing with feet together, chest upright, arms coordinated with his steps in a ready stance, he began a sequence of moves: the Child’s Salute, Horse Stance Single Whip, Extended Leg Punch, Great Roc Sweeping Claw—forms from Shaolin’s Arhat Fist.

This was the most basic and the most practiced routine for Yan Li.

After several rounds, sweat beaded on his brow, and his enthusiasm grew. He found a small tree and began demonstrating some Sanda moves, occasionally delivering kicks that made the tree sway.

The little tree: Damn you!

Just as he was getting into it, Yan Li suddenly sensed someone watching him. Turning, he saw a long-haired girl dressed in a T-shirt and jeans.

She was quite pretty—an oval face, pointed chin, delicate and gentle features, eyes soft and lively, with a temperament that felt both graceful and composed; a beautiful young woman who was pleasant to look at.

If one were to find fault, her skin wasn’t particularly fair.

“Can I help you?” Yan Li asked, slightly embarrassed as he lowered his stance and wiped his sweat.

The girl seemed startled by his sudden glance but quickly explained, “Sorry to bother you. I was just passing by and got curious watching you practice boxing, so I stopped for a bit.”

Her voice was pleasant—soft with a hint of sweetness.

When faced with a beauty, one must be gracious. Yan Li waved dismissively, signaling it was no trouble.

The long-haired girl made a small apologetic gesture before leaving.

Yan Li glanced a few more times and noticed she hadn’t gone far. She sat down on a shaded bench about fifty or sixty meters away, wearing headphones and reading—probably a script.

After all, Hengdian plus a pretty girl usually meant she was an actress. Not a hundred percent, but at least seventy or eighty percent of the time.

After a few glances, Yan Li withdrew his gaze.

She was attractive, but he wasn’t some naive country bumpkin who hadn’t seen beauty before.

Let alone others, how many universities in China had more beauties than Beijing Film Academy?

He had spent two years there—not just burying his head in books. His "ex-girlfriend" was once hailed as the beauty queen of the 2000 cohort at the academy...