In Puzhou, inside the bustling compound of the Flourishing World Talent Agency, the entire place had been swallowed by a kind of urgency that only appeared when something truly important was about to be completed, and yet no one dared to call it chaos because every movement, every shouted instruction, and every hurried step carried a purpose that was both clear and heavy.
Stage backdrops were being raised piece by piece, long curtains adjusted and readjusted until they fell just right, lanterns and lighting rigs were tested again and again while assistants argued in low voices about angles and shadows, and scattered among all of this movement stood a crowd of performers whose names alone were enough to make ordinary people fall silent.
Chen Yuanyuan was there, as composed as ever, while Chen Qianhu stood nearby speaking with the director in a tone that sounded casual but clearly was not, and Cai Lin moved between groups with practiced ease, checking details one by one; and at the center of everything, watching without appearing to rush yet somehow controlling the entire rhythm of the place, stood Old Nanfeng.
Not far from them, the so-called special guests had also arrived, although calling them guests was something of a joke, because each of them carried their own weight in this world, and none of them were people who could be invited lightly.
Shan Shier had already taken a seat but his eyes kept wandering across the set as if judging everything in silence, Bai Yuan leaned against a pillar with arms crossed and an expression that revealed nothing, Cheng Xu spoke occasionally with the crew, Gao Chuwu stood quietly but missed nothing, and Flat Rabbit had somehow found a comfortable place to sit despite the chaos, looking entirely too relaxed for the situation.
Every single person present understood one thing clearly, which was that what they were making was not just another film.
It was a work that would stand as a conclusion.
The title of that work was "The Founding of a Nation."
Because of that, no one dared to take even the smallest detail lightly, and the weight of that seriousness pressed down most heavily on the director and the cameraman, especially the latter, whose hands had begun to tremble despite his best efforts to remain steady, not enough for others to openly mock him but enough that he himself could not ignore it.
Fortunately, the camera he was operating did not care about such small human weaknesses, because it was not an ordinary device but a divine artifact bestowed by Dao Xuan Tianzun, something they called a miniature camera even though it stood like a monstrous construct with a diameter of nearly two meters, so large and heavy that even if the operator's hands shook slightly, the image it captured would remain stable.
At least, that was how it was supposed to be.
"Dialogue scene, thirty-second sequence, scene thirty-two, begin."
The director gave the order, trying to sound firm, and the filming officially started.
Chen Yuanyuan, now fully within her role as Gao Yiye, stepped forward with a decisive motion and ascended the watchtower balcony of Gao Village Family, her figure rising above the others as she looked down with a commanding presence that seemed to merge perfectly with the character she portrayed, and when she spoke, her voice carried both authority and clarity.
"By order of Dao Xuan Tianzun, the entire army shall…"
Before she could finish, a sharp cry suddenly cut through the air.
"This is bad."
The cameraman's voice no longer tried to hide its panic, and when he spoke again, it carried a weight that made everyone's heart sink.
"The divine camera is broken."
For a brief moment, the entire set fell silent, as if even the air had stopped moving, and then all at once people turned and rushed toward the machine, their earlier focus shattered as concern replaced performance.
Old Nanfeng was among the first to reach it, his expression already darkening as he looked at the device and then at the cameraman.
"Broken again?"
The cameraman nodded, his face pale as he pointed toward the side of the machine.
"It will not turn on at all. The light is dead."
That simple statement was enough to make the surrounding atmosphere grow heavy, because everyone present understood what it meant even without further explanation.
"Check it immediately," someone said.
"Do we still have spare parts?"
"Find out what failed first."
Voices overlapped, but none of them carried confidence.
Since the first year of the New Ming Calendar, when Dao Xuan Tianzun had ascended and no longer intervened in the affairs of the mortal world, the divine artifacts left behind had begun to fail one after another, and among them, the most fragile had always been these complex devices whose inner workings no one truly understood.
In the past, such problems had never mattered, because any broken artifact would simply be returned to the heavens and replaced with a new one, but now that path no longer existed, and wishing for it was nothing more than foolishness.
What remained to them was a crude method that everyone relied on without pride, which was to dismantle broken artifacts and salvage whatever parts still functioned, using those pieces to repair others in a constant cycle of loss and temporary recovery that could not last forever.
Old Nanfeng raised his hand to quiet the discussion, his tone steady even though his eyes revealed a trace of fatigue.
"Technicians, determine which component has failed and search the storage for a replacement. Someone else, bring out a backup camera so we do not lose time."
One of the technicians hesitated before speaking, his voice low.
"We only have two backup cameras left."
The words settled heavily over the group, because everyone knew that the number would not increase again.
Old Nanfeng tilted his head slightly and let out a long breath, his thoughts clearly not limited to the camera in front of him, because across the land, the massive divine mirrors placed by Dao Xuan Tianzun were also failing one by one, and unlike these smaller devices, they could not even be repaired, as their construction was far beyond anything the people of this world could comprehend.
"When they are all gone," he said quietly, "this agency will also reach its end."
For a moment, no one responded, but then his expression changed, and the hesitation that had briefly appeared vanished as something firmer took its place.
"Before that happens, we finish this film properly, because this final work must not carry any flaws."
This time, the response came quickly and loudly, as everyone present straightened and answered with renewed determination, their earlier unease transforming into resolve.
Work resumed soon after, and the rhythm of the set returned, although now there was a sharper edge to every movement, as if time itself had become something they could no longer afford to waste.
Cai Lin approached Old Nanfeng quietly and nudged him lightly, her voice lowered so that only he could hear.
"When the agency closes, are we really going to retire?"
Old Nanfeng smiled at once, as if the question pleased him.
"Of course. We have earned enough. From now on, we live freely and spend without thinking too much, letting others earn our money while we enjoy the world as we please. That has always been my dream."
Cai Lin did not immediately smile back, because her thoughts had already moved elsewhere.
"What about everyone here? If we stop, they will lose their work. We cannot simply leave them like that."
Old Nanfeng followed her gaze and saw not just employees, but familiar faces from years long past, men who had once stood beside him on the frontier and shared dangers that could not be easily forgotten, and the idea of abandoning them without thought did not sit well with him.
"You are right," he admitted after a pause. "So what should we do?"
Cai Lin answered without hesitation.
"If films are no longer possible, then we return to stage performances. We may not be able to record them, but we can perform live for audiences."
Old Nanfeng stared at her for a moment, then laughed, not because the idea was strange, but because it was so simple that he felt foolish for not thinking of it sooner.
"That is true. Before the divine mirrors existed, that was exactly what we did. It seems I have grown too used to convenience."
After laughing, he nodded decisively.
"Once this film is finished, we will begin preparing stage productions."
Cai Lin smiled, her expression soft but amused.
"In that case, your dream of living as a foolish rich man will have to wait a little longer."
Old Nanfeng's grin returned immediately.
"That kind of life can start at any time. Tonight, we go to the most expensive restaurant in Puzhou, and when we order, we choose only the most expensive dishes. That should be enough to qualify as being foolish with money."
Cai Lin could not help but laugh at that.
"That is not foolishness. That is simply enjoying life."
Old Nanfeng threw his head back and laughed, clearly satisfied with that answer.
"Then we will enjoy life."
Two years later, in New Ming Calendar Year 10, "The Founding of a Nation" was finally released, at a time when only a handful of divine mirrors across the land still functioned, and yet people were willing to travel great distances by train just to reach the cities where they could watch it.
Countless viewers wept in the theaters, and many stood to sing the national anthem with tears still on their faces.
In Year 11, the Flourishing World Talent Agency officially shifted its focus from film production to stage performances, traveling across the country and gaining widespread popularity among the people.
By Year 15, the stage business had matured, and operations had stabilized to the point where Old Nanfeng felt he could finally step away, handing control of the agency to a trusted subordinate while he himself entered retirement, receiving dividends but no longer managing daily affairs.
In Year 16, Old Nanfeng and Cai Lin began what he proudly referred to as a life of reckless spending, although in truth it was simply the comfortable and enviable life of wealthy retirees.
In Year 40, the two of them passed away one after the other, and when their son, Nanhai Qing, reviewed their inheritance, he discovered that aside from property and shares in the agency, almost no cash remained, because the two of them had spent it all.
To live was to live fully.
Before his death, Old Nanfeng had said only one thing.
"The children will have their own fortunes. I have no interest in worrying about them."