The Ninth Principle of the Chen Directing Principles:
The core of creating and developing a plot lies in setting up conflicts. If the story itself lacks strong or gripping conflicts, then create "misunderstandings" to drive the plot forward.
As this principle flashed through Chen Ling's mind—a rule he had secretly summarized during his previous life as a director—a faint smile appeared in his eyes.
[Audience Expectation +3]
[Current Expectation: 32%]
The moment these two lines of text appeared in the reflection of the soy milk, Chen Ling knew he had guessed correctly.
Uncle Zhao's expression visibly stiffened.
He stared at Chen Ling in shock, his emotions shifting from confusion to disbelief, and finally settling into a deathly silence...
"Uncle Zhao, I promised Zhao Yi I'd keep this a secret... but you only have one son, and I know you want him to carry on the family line... Besides, he's always hanging out with that other guy, and it's really affecting his studies."
Uncle Zhao's body began to tremble slightly. His hands clenched into fists, and his breathing grew heavier.
"Alright... I understand," Uncle Zhao said, forcing a smile that looked more unsettling than reassuring. "Thank you, A-Ling."
"Oh, and Uncle Zhao, I promised Zhao Yi I wouldn't tell anyone, so you absolutely can't let him know it was me who told you..."
"Don't worry, I know."
After finishing the last sip of his soy milk, Chen Ling bid farewell to Uncle Zhao and left the stall.
Uncle Zhao, however, seemed to have tuned out the world. He was rummaging through the shop, and a few minutes later, he pulled out a thick wooden stick from a corner. He slowly sat down on a stool at the entrance of the shop.
A cold breeze swept through the street, ruffling the few strands of hair on Uncle Zhao's head and the sweat-soaked towel on his forehead.
He sat there quietly, one hand gripping the stick, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the end of the street like a general ready for battle, radiating an aura of murderous intent!
Chen Ling pretended to leave the street but secretly circled back through an alley. He stood under the shade of a tree in a corner, giving him a clear view of the shop.
A few minutes later, a tricycle wobbled into view from the end of the street.
Zhao Yi was lounging on the side of the tricycle, his legs crossed. The two buckets of salt behind him were completely empty. He was playing with a few copper coins he had just earned, grinning from ear to ear.
"Hey, making money isn't that hard after all."
"Yi-ge, of course it's not hard for you! I'm the one pedaling this thing all day!" the boy in front said, standing up to pedal harder, panting heavily.
"We're brothers, no need to split hairs."
Zhao Yi took two copper coins from his hand and stuffed them into the boy's pocket. "Here, for you."
From a distance, Uncle Zhao's eyelid twitched as he saw Zhao Yi casually touch the boy's waist.
"Yi-ge, I pedaled this thing all day, and you're only giving me two coins?!" the boy exclaimed, wide-eyed. "You got twenty from the Road Management Bureau!"
"Pedaling is manual labor, but spreading salt is skilled work. Of course, I get more."
Zhao Yi lazily replied, then leaped off the tricycle. He waved at the boy with a sly grin. "I'll see you at the usual spot tomorrow... If you dare not show up, I'll beat you up every time I see you, got it?"
With that, he clenched the remaining eighteen coins in his hand and strutted confidently toward his family's shop.
The boy on the tricycle glared at him angrily, but when Zhao Yi shot him a fierce look, he immediately backed down. He could only grit his teeth and continue pedaling home, swallowing his frustration.
Zhao Yi, the neighborhood bully of Frost Street, was someone none of the younger kids dared to cross. The boy who had been taken advantage of all day could only endure the injustice in silence.
"Dad, I'm back!!"
Zhao Yi strode confidently, clutching the eighteen coins. He had never felt so self-assured coming home.
But for some reason, as soon as he reached the shop entrance, he was hit by an overwhelming sense of foreboding.
The figure holding the wooden stick slowly stood up, and the atmosphere instantly turned icy. Uncle Zhao's furious eyes locked onto Zhao Yi, and he marched toward him like a general wielding a spear, radiating menace.
"Dad... Dad?" Zhao Yi took a step back instinctively when he saw the stick.
"Is it him?" Uncle Zhao pointed a trembling finger at the boy pedaling away in the distance. "You little brat! Instead of studying properly, you're sneaking around doing this kind of stuff?!"
"If you were dating a girl, I could understand! But you had to go and find a guy?!"
"Can a guy give you children?! Can he carry on the Zhao family line?!"
"Are you trying to end our family's legacy?!"
Uncle Zhao ranted and raved as he chased Zhao Yi with the stick, the latter howling in pain.
Hearing Uncle Zhao's furious shouts, half the street's neighbors pricked up their ears.
They gathered around, pointing and whispering about Zhao Yi being chased. Whatever they were saying, their faces all showed the same look of shock.
[Audience Expectation +1... +1... +1...]
As Zhao Yi yelped in pain, the numbers in front of Chen Ling's eyes kept jumping.
If he could enter the theater in his mind again, he would see the dense crowd of shadowy "audience members" watching the scene with great interest, their lips curled in subtle smiles.
"The conflict is right... but there aren't enough characters yet." Chen Ling's gaze fell on the tricycle in the distance.
"Xiao Liu."
Hearing Chen Ling's call, the boy who had been pedaling the tricycle turned around, still looking confused.
"A-Ling? You're here too?"
"How much did Zhao Yi give you for today's work?"
"...Two coins," the boy said, his face filled with resentment. "He went back on his word. He said I'd get most of the money if I pedaled, but in the end, he only gave me this much... And he threatened me to keep being his errand boy tomorrow..."
"Do you want to get back at him?" Chen Ling looked into his eyes. "Or do you want to make sure he never dares to bully you again, to the point where he avoids you altogether?"
"Yes!!"
"Then let me teach you..."
As the two whispered to each other, Zhao Yi was already exhausted from being chased.
"Dad, Dad, stop hitting me! I swear I'm not into guys!" Zhao Yi finally realized what was happening and desperately tried to explain. "I, Zhao Yi, have always only liked women! Especially the curvy, mature ones..."
The onlookers' mouths dropped open, their expressions thoughtful.
Uncle Zhao paused, his steps slowing.
"Then what's your relationship with that boy on the bike?"
"We're just friends!"
"Are you telling the truth?"
"Of course I—"
"Yi-ge!" A young voice cut through the crowd as a boy rushed to Zhao Yi's side, throwing his arms around him and shielding him with his back, taking the blow from the stick.
Zhao Yi was stunned.
Uncle Zhao was also stunned.
"You..." Zhao Yi's mind went blank.
Before Zhao Yi could say anything, the boy, tears streaming down his face, shouted at Uncle Zhao:
"If you want to hit someone, hit me! Don't touch my Yi-ge!!!"
The atmosphere froze.
[Audience Expectation +2... +2... +2... +2...]