The scenes for "imperial industry" were successfully completed amidst such chaotic turmoil.
The 14th year of Daqing, Autumn.
A sudden autumn rain descended outside the window, the downpour carrying the chill of the season. A wild wind whipped the branches and lashed against the eaves, sounding like the mournful wail of a soul-reaper.
Inside the post house, the candlelight was dim and yellow, and the young emperor on the couch looked emaciated—
Qin Zhuo was only thirty-two years old. While the majesty of an emperor still lingered between his brows, his face was now as pale as paper, and his lips were tinged with a grayish-blue. Even the heavy dragon robe seemed somewhat hollow draped over his thin frame, and his breathing had become labored and stagnant.
The incense burner by the couch burned agarwood, the smoke curling upward, yet it could not dispel the smell of medicine and the deathly silence that filled the room.
Qin Zhuo's eyes were slightly closed, his eyelashes trembling slightly, as if he were in a deep sleep, or perhaps struggling against his final breath.
When he opened his eyes again, there was no fear of impending death on his face; instead, he possessed a touch of elegant composure.
His somewhat dry, bloodshot eyes moved slightly, finally resting on the incense burner before the couch. He watched silently as the wisps of smoke rose into the air, only to eventually dissipate into the world.
Just as a mortal comes to this world, bringing nothing at birth and taking nothing at death, in the end, even the soul returns to the universe.
Looking back at the first half of his life, he had donned his armor and gone to battle at fifteen, using thunderous methods to suppress internal strife. He personally led his iron cavalry to crush external threats at the borders. In just ten short years, he ended the era of division and chaos, unified the Nine Provinces, and rebuilt Daqing. In the years that followed, he governed with diligence, defying all opposition to expand weapon workshops, recruit the world's finest craftsmen, improve iron-smelting techniques, upgrade forging processes, standardize weapon production, and push for innovation in military technology. He remained steadfast in his philosophy of "protecting the nation through martial might and stabilizing the state through military strength"...
The fierce ambition and obsession in Qin Zhuo's bones ultimately left him with no rest and no peace.
It had also ultimately become his own death warrant.
As the candlelight in the room flickered once more, the light finally reflected the exhaustion and lingering regret within his brow.
But he said nothing. He only turned his head for one last time, his gaze calmly meeting the camera lens. In that moment, he seemed to be looking back through the lens at his brief yet magnificent life, and also seemed to be staring at the distant descendants behind the lens who benefited from his achievements. Finally, a very soft sigh escaped his throat, and he slowly closed his eyes.
And so, those eyes that had once looked down upon the world with both disdain and imperial compassion never opened again.
The life of Emperor Chen was frozen in the late autumn of his thirty-second year. There were not many people guarding him; he was even staying in just a small post house. It did not match the brilliance and glory of a founding emperor. Just as when he first arrived, galloping on horseback with swift elegance, he left simply and cleanly, leaving behind only the scent of medicine and endless regret in the room.
The curtain fell on a generation's emperor.
He was a peerless monarch of history, the widely praised forefather of national military industry, a predecessor who guided the direction of military R&D for future generations of Chinese people, and a hardened man of iron and blood who fulfilled his life's promise with his own life and blood.
Even if his descendants were occasionally mediocre, no one could destroy the foundation of his vast military empire for a hundred years. Even after the Qing Dynasty had become a long river in history, the military technology he left behind and the preserved craftsmanship became a spark of resistance during the modern era of national humiliation.
Qin Zhuo, Emperor Chen—was destined to become a brilliant star on the pages of history!
—
In front of the monitor, Qiu Zhenlong put on his reading glasses and began to repeatedly review the scene before him. His already furrowed brows tightened even further due to his movements, almost knitting together, while the surrounding people, waiting with bated breath, also held their breath along with him.
After an unknown amount of time, a smile of relief finally appeared on the old man's face.
"No problems."
He stood up, reached out, and sincerely shook Xiao He's hand, giving the young man a tight hug. His tone carried a touch of solemnity and undisguised admiration: "Congratulations, Xiao He! You've wrapped!"
After hugging Xiao He, he looked at the others around him with a smile: "Congratulations to everyone as well. "imperial industry" has officially wrapped. To everyone present, thank you very much for your hard work over these days. I am also very happy to have witnessed the life of a great emperor together with all of you. You've all worked hard! Thank you very much!"
As he spoke, he took Xiao He's hand, signaling for the young man to join him, and the two of them bowed deeply and sincerely in several directions to express their gratitude.
Immediately, thunderous applause erupted from the surroundings.
"Ahhh, that's great! It's finally finished!"
"Happy wrap-up!"
"Congratulations on wrapping!"
"Wooo, this is just wonderful!"
Some people screamed, others whistled; the Film Crew members, who had been suppressed for a long time, finally reached a boiling point of excitement at this moment.
There was no other way; ever since the "imperial industry" Film Crew started shooting, incidents had been constant.
Especially with the mid-production halt, many people thought "imperial industry" might die an early death and all their previous hard work would go to waste.
Unexpectedly, things took a turn for the better. In less than a week after the halt, the "imperial industry" Film Crew miraculously came back to life. Not only were they replaced with a friendlier producer and investors, but even the overall treatment had improved significantly.
Although everyone's mood had been a bit low because of what happened, it was precisely because they were holding their breath that they worked very, very hard under the leadership of the competitive king Director Qiu and Xiao He after returning to work.
It was just that the work pressure was indeed too great, and the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive.
Until now, until this very moment, their grueling task was finally successfully completed!
Everyone cheered, venting the pressure of the past few days, with some even breaking into sobbing cries.
Xiao He was shocked and couldn't help but look back to see who was so emotional that they would cry just from hearing the words "off the clock"—
Looking closely, it turned out to be Screenwriter Qin.
Oh, then it's fine.
Xiao He instantly became calm.
The closer they got to the end, the sadder Screenwriter Qin became. Now, witnessing the conclusion of Emperor Chen's story with his own eyes, it was only natural for Screenwriter Qin to be heartbroken.
However, before Xiao He could slip away, he was called out by Screenwriter Qin.
The somewhat haggard middle-aged screenwriter was now staring deeply at the young man dressed as the emperor, his eyes brimming with tears and his chest tight with countless words he wanted to say, but for a long while, not a single word came out.
Seeing that he couldn't leave, Xiao He could only stop and look calmly at the person before him, still carrying the lingering imperial pressure around him.
In that moment, it felt as if one were truly standing before a historical figure.
But stories must eventually come to an end.
So in the end, Screenwriter Qin didn't say what he was thinking to Emperor Chen. Instead, he took a step back, stepping out of the torrent of history, and thanked Xiao He once more: "Xiao He, thank you, and thank you for your Emperor Chen."
History is seen through a mist, and heroes always have many regrets.
To be able to see that character with his own eyes and to be able to create "imperial industry" was his good fortune.
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