Chapter 21: Filming V

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The story began in January of 2005.

Recommended Song: Stanley Huang – “Gift”

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional. Please do not associate any real persons with the characters. Any resemblance is purely coincidental!

Before his official debut, Jiang Yihan also filmed a music video. This time, there were only two main tracks: “Castle” and the upbeat “Puppet.” When it came to choreography, Jin Yiyun devoted considerable time to creating the dance, with the “Puppet” dance segment being the most impressive and also the hardest to learn. The first director for the MV was Park Youngho, a director Jiang Yihan was very familiar with, whose style suited “Castle” well, capturing beautiful visuals. “Puppet,” however, was entrusted to another young company director, Xu Le. The filming of “Puppet” went smoothly. Jiang Yihan’s task was to change outfits for several scenes and flawlessly perform the challenging dance multiple times. Filming progressed quickly, taking about a day, with Jiang Yihan dancing it an estimated thirty times before wrapping up. The rest was left to the director’s editing and production. Apart from his feet nearly cramping and feeling almost dehydrated by the end, the shoot itself was quite successful.

The shoot for “Castle” was relatively more complex. After much discussion, the company decided to include a leading lady, with Jiang Yihan playing piano alone in an empty room, then walking through places filled with memories. Through a series of flashbacks, the sweet moments between the two would be shown, culminating in the final betrayal. The challenge lay in the scenes opposite the female lead. The company debated for a long while, unsure whether to cast a newcomer or hire a star. Just as they were at their wits’ end, Jiang Yihan spoke up and lifted everyone’s spirits: “Uncle Li, can I ask Sister Hyori if she’s available? Maybe she could help me out?”

Lee Hyori was currently a top star in Korea, and her fee was no small matter. Even if they could afford it, her schedule might not allow it. Still, if she could really help, this main track would instantly attract everyone’s attention. The issue was, “Yihan, how do you know Lee Hyori?” Director Park voiced the question weighing on both his and Li Tong’s minds.

“Heh, it’s a secret.” Jiang Yihan gave a mischievous smile, making everyone a bit frustrated. “Hyori? It’s Yihan.” He dialed Lee Hyori’s number, and after a short ring, she answered. “Hyori, are you free these days?”

“Oh, Yihan.” Lee Hyori was in the dressing room, preparing for a show. “What’s up? Need my help? It’s the New Year, so my schedule is packed—I don’t have much free time.”

Jiang Yihan could hear the teasing in her voice. “Well, I’m about to debut—maybe in two weeks. But I haven’t filmed the MV for my main track yet, and I need a female lead. I don’t know anyone else, so I thought of you.”

“You little rascal,” Lee Hyori laughed. “You never think of me until you need me! Why isn’t your company helping you find someone?”

“Well, you’re busy too, aren’t you? I can’t always trouble you.” Hearing her questions, Jiang Yihan felt a glimmer of hope. “The company’s debating whether to cast a newcomer or bring in a celebrity, but they don’t know who to invite. Then I thought of you—you’re Korea’s sexy queen! So, do you have time to help?”

“You smooth talker.” Lee Hyori giggled. “Alright, tell me when you need me, and I’ll see if I’m free. I can’t turn down my own brother, can I?”

“I wouldn’t dare pick the time—whenever you’re free, that’s when we’ll shoot. That’s only right.” Jiang Yihan nodded at Li Tong and Director Park, signaling all was well.

“Alright, let’s do it the day after tomorrow. My schedule is light then, so I can make some time. But, Yihan, let’s be clear—this is just a favor, no money involved, got it? You’re about to debut, and it’s no problem for me to help.”

Jiang Yihan was touched by her care, and after chatting a little longer, he hung up.

“Kid, you’re impressive—even got Lee Hyori on board,” Park Youngho marveled at the diamond he’d discovered.

“It’s all fate. Oh, and Hyori said she’ll help for free,” Jiang Yihan added, making Li Tong even more fond of him.

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The weather on the day of the shoot was just right—a bit of sun, some wind, a few clouds—perfect for Jiang Yihan’s song. The first scene was Jiang Yihan and Lee Hyori feeding each other ice cream on the street, which left Jiang Yihan rather embarrassed, and Lee Hyori kept breaking into laughter, saying it felt awkward whether they acted as strangers or close friends. Filming such an “intimate” scene right off the bat was hard for both of them. Only after chatting for half an hour did they settle in. Jiang Yihan fed Lee Hyori some ice cream; she bit into it cheerfully, then offered her own ice cream to him, but just as he was about to bite, she pulled it back and ate it herself, grinning. Jiang Yihan then leaned over and took a bite anyway, their faces just centimeters apart, so close they could hear each other breathing. Both were startled. Then, Jiang Yihan suddenly kissed Lee Hyori on the cheek and ran off shyly. Lee Hyori touched her cheek, blushing, and when she realized there was ice cream on her face, she chased after Jiang Yihan. They ran, laughing, their joy echoing through the sky.

They filmed this scene several times, gradually becoming more in sync, and after multiple takes, Director Park finally called it. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief.

The next scenes were shot at a house that Li Ran had rented in advance. Here, they filmed several segments. The first was of them cooking together and playfully teasing each other. Having worked together earlier, they slipped into their roles much more easily, and the scene was very sweet—one chopping vegetables, one cooking, Jiang Yihan sometimes holding Lee Hyori by the waist, guiding her hands, whispering sweet words in her ear, and both bursting out laughing. There were many intimate moments, and it took some effort to get it right.

They also shot scenes of the two playing on the balcony—two cups of coffee, a magazine, and a guitar made up the scene. Jiang Yihan strummed the guitar, singing softly, while Lee Hyori sipped her coffee and flipped through the magazine, sometimes looking up at him with sweet satisfaction. The wind on the balcony tousled their hair and clothes, and though the scene was quiet, it radiated a comforting peace. These scenes went quickly, their chemistry improving with each take, and Director Park soon gave his approval.

Lee Hyori’s scenes were finished swiftly, and then it was Jiang Yihan’s solo stage. Reading Lee Hyori’s farewell note, he frantically searched for her, only to return, defeated, to the places filled with memories—no tears, no wailing, just a desolate silhouette and hollow eyes. Since this was an MV, acting requirements weren’t high, and Jiang Yihan completed the shooting in just two days.

Producer Han from “mpick” observed the whole process and took meticulous notes, documenting the event. Jiang Yihan hadn’t seen the finished product yet, but word was that Director Park was quite satisfied.

A crucial task before debut was defining his image, which would influence all future branding and production. Li Tong, Li Ran, the stylists, costume designers, and Jiang Yihan’s mentors all gathered, scrutinizing Jiang Yihan as if he were produce at the market, being picked over by discerning customers. He felt uneasy, uncomfortable with the scrutiny, and was quickly whisked off to the makeup room for a change of clothes.

The first look: the gentle heartthrob—an imitation tweed coat, brown sweater vest, white shirt, leather shoes, and gold-rimmed glasses. When Jiang Yihan stepped out, everyone shook their heads—too old, not the right vibe.

Change.

The streetwise hip-hop boy: comfortable jeans, a braided belt with three or four chains, a loose black T-shirt with bold graffiti, a checkered scarf, and a large-brimmed cap. Again, the look was rejected—too colorful, too jarring.

Change.

The Japanese-style trendsetter: fitted cotton shorts, flaxen leather shoes, tailored white shirt, several silver bracelets, and a round hat. This look was better, but still not perfect.

Change.

The boy-next-door: distressed painted jeans, white canvas shoes, a large-print white T-shirt. Jiang Yihan liked this one best for its comfort, but it was deemed too familiar, too close to his everyday self, lacking star quality.

Change.

The British-style prince: black fitted suit pants, a crisp white shirt, black vest, slim black tie loosely knotted. When Jiang Yihan emerged, everyone’s eyes lit up, and applause broke out.

They tried a few more looks and realized Jiang Yihan could actually pull off many styles, as long as he switched according to the occasion. However, considering his main track, everyone agreed he should be positioned as a “prince”—pairing strong charisma with a versatile presence, and as his acting skills grew, he could take on different personas. This would be his image moving forward.

Hearing this, Jiang Yihan nearly fainted. Only now did he realize that not everything a star does is truly themselves—a big part of it is carefully crafted. As Li Ran explained, image is crucial. Getting it right is extremely important for an artist’s future, and all subsequent plans would be built around it—this was the first step to making someone a star.

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On January 15th, Jiang Yihan’s album was officially released nationwide. Immediately, Jiang Ziyi dragged him to the record store, with Kwon Jiyong joining them. Once there, the three split up to search the shelves. Jiang Yihan found his album tucked away on one of the inner racks—not surprising for a newcomer who hadn’t even had his debut stage and had garnered little attention. He picked up his album; the cover was black, with Jiang Yihan’s back, his head turned to reveal a third of his face, and the title “Jiang Yihan: Castle” embossed in gold. It was simple yet beautiful. He couldn’t help but run his fingers over the cover, feeling both excited and a little incredulous—this was his own album, a meaningful keepsake. Looking at the “child” he’d worked so hard to bring into the world over the past month, it all felt unreal, but the weight in his hands reassured him it was true.

While Jiang Yihan was lost in thought, Jiang Ziyi and Kwon Jiyong found him, each picking up a copy as well.

“Bro, this is your album? So cool!” Jiang Ziyi also stroked the cover.

“I’m so envious, Yihan. You already have your own album,” Kwon Jiyong, still a trainee, clearly looked forward to a moment like this.

“Who knows what the future holds? There might not be a second, but at least I’ve taken the first step,” Jiang Yihan sighed.

Placement in a record store was a delicate matter—it could affect sales significantly. Sometimes, companies even paid or pulled strings to get prime shelf space. The most prominent spots went to albums with high popularity, attention, or strong company backing. Since Jiang Yihan was just debuting, the company hadn’t started working its connections yet. After his debut stage tomorrow, things would likely improve, and his album would get a better spot.

In the entertainment world, there are professional critics—music reviewers, film critics, and so on. Some experts buy every new release to write reviews, while those with more influence are sent albums by companies requesting a write-up, as word of mouth is crucial to an album’s success.

Li Ran had been busy these days delivering Jiang Yihan’s album to various music critics and radio stations, preparing for chart promotions and publicity. Bowing, thanking, and asking others to look after the newcomer—this had been Li Ran’s job lately. Even though he disliked talking, had a face like ice, and wasn’t good at socializing, for Jiang Yihan’s sake, he did it all and did it well.

Liu Taifeng was a well-known music critic. He received a copy of Jiang Yihan’s album from Li Ran. Flipping through the CD, he casually put it into the player and headed to the kitchen to make a snack. But as soon as the music started, he stopped in his tracks, drawn in. As Jiang Yihan’s voice rose, he unconsciously closed his eyes and swayed gently with the music. He listened to the whole album standing at the kitchen door, unmoving. When the music stopped, he hurried to his desk, excitement bubbling, and quickly wrote a review.

It was hard to believe this was a debut album—the quality was among the highest he’d heard in recent years. The songs were mostly about breakups and farewells, all up to standard, but he especially praised two tracks: “Castle” and “The Sweetness of Breaking Up.” Both were Jiang Yihan’s own work. Though there was a hint of immaturity, they were nonetheless complete and high-quality pieces. Personally, he preferred “The Sweetness of Breaking Up”—the melody and lyrics conveyed the optimistic, upbeat attitude of modern youth, making the listener feel cheerful. “Castle” was better suited to Jiang Yihan himself; the song was technically demanding, with several transitions and modulations handled excellently, but its difficulty made it less suitable for the average person to sing, which might cost it some points. Still, “Castle” ranked among his top favorites in recent years. He was now looking forward to Jiang Yihan’s debut stage.

Liu Taifeng’s review wasn’t overly flattering, but for a newcomer, it was high praise. The professional community grew curious—how could a newcomer earn such words from a critic known for being strict and picky? Even before his debut, Jiang Yihan’s name was already spreading through the industry.

A word from the author: Many readers have offered suggestions in their reviews lately, and I’m truly grateful—thank you. Now, let’s address a few issues. First, about Han Geng: as the first Chinese to debut in Korea, I definitely plan to include him. However, since this is my first time writing a novel and there are already many characters introduced early on, I’ve found it hard to manage everyone. I’m still unsure how to bring Han Geng into the story or where the plot should go from there, so I’ve been hesitating. I also overlooked the connection between Kim Jaejoong and Han Geng—my oversight. But trust me, Han Geng is too important not to appear in the subsequent plot.

Secondly, about the “wish fulfillment” and “harem” issues: There will inevitably be some wish fulfillment, or Jiang Yihan wouldn’t have ended up in showbiz, but I’ll try to keep it in check. As for the harem trope, I can assure you there won’t be one—I just can’t write that. However, there will still be some ambiguous relationships.

As this is my first novel, my mind has often been muddled, and there are many shortcomings. I hope you’ll forgive me and continue to share your thoughts and suggestions.