YABE - 2

Adapting a game into a movie is no simple feat. Among the countless game-to-movie adaptations to date, many have ended up ruining the original source material. One of the biggest reasons for this failure lies in the inherent interactivity of games—a quality that movies simply cannot replicate.

Over the decades, the gaming industry has evolved significantly, becoming more accessible and technologically advanced. Improved graphics, special effects, and soundtracks now immerse players in virtual worlds like never before. In games, the player is the protagonist; they control every step, shape the narrative through their choices, and experience the story firsthand. This level of agency creates an unparalleled sense of immersion.

In contrast, movies relegate viewers to the role of passive observers. Add poor acting or rushed storytelling to the mix, and the result is often disastrous. Moreover, movies are constrained by their runtime—typically two hours—which limits the amount of content that can be included. Games, on the other hand, often feature sprawling narratives that are difficult to condense without sacrificing depth. Deciding what to include and what to omit becomes critical. Fail to strike the right balance, and you risk creating a muddled world with incomplete context, leaving both gamers and casual viewers dissatisfied.

It’s no wonder that poorly executed adaptations often flop, sparking waves of online criticism.

The movie in question was titled Never Look Back .

Its protagonist, Su Nuo, was the sole survivor of a corruption scandal that had unfolded fifteen years prior. At the time, collusion between local officials and businessmen had led to all blame being pinned on Su Nuo’s father, Su Jiaheng, a man who had lived an honest life. The once-happy family fell apart: Su Jiaheng took his own life in prison, unable to bear the false accusations. Su Nuo’s grandparents passed away shortly after, heartbroken by the loss of their son. His mother succumbed to depression and eventually committed suicide as well.

Fifteen years later, the boy who had witnessed his family’s destruction grew into a man consumed by vengeance. It was only natural that he would embark on a quest to bring down the perpetrators of his family’s downfall.

After reading the script, Wen Siyu couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief. “How tragic,” she muttered under her breath.

The screenwriter, Ji Xia, was undoubtedly talented. Rather than being confined by the game’s original world, she cleverly adapted its battle royale mechanics into a revenge-driven narrative. Though the premise was somewhat formulaic, the execution was ingenious and served as a poignant commentary on the pervasive corruption within society.

The character of Su Nuo was particularly compelling. His internal struggles—torn between hatred and morality, culminating in eventual redemption—were moments that demanded exceptional acting. If portrayed convincingly, these scenes could elevate the film to greatness.

But perhaps the most crucial element of any adaptation was casting.

Wen Siyu had never imagined they’d cast Jiang Xu as the lead.

Jiang Xu made his debut at the age of fourteen, playing the young male lead in Director Xu Qiubai’s Eternal Life . His performance earned him the Best Supporting Actor award at the Golden Horse Awards. For the next decade, he focused exclusively on television dramas before returning triumphantly to the big screen. With back-to-back hits like Flame and June Awakening , he won consecutive Best Actor awards, cementing his status as one of the few actors in cinematic history to achieve such a feat.

His box office track record was equally impressive.

When Director Li Hengyi asked Wen Siyu if she wanted to intern as his assistant, she saw it as a rare opportunity for hands-on learning and immediately accepted without hesitation. Discovering later that the project was based on a game she had previously created videos about felt like fate.

She had repeatedly pressed Li Hengyi about who would play the male lead, but he refused to divulge any information. Now that Jiang Xu was confirmed for the role, Wen Siyu was ecstatic.

Her first internship on a film set—and the male lead was none other than her idol! Overwhelmed by her good fortune, she toyed with the idea of running downstairs to buy lottery tickets.

Chewing on a chocolate bar, she bounced out of her room and bounded down the stairs, phone in hand. Opening a chat window, she unleashed a flurry of emojis.

Five seconds later, a reply arrived.

[Cold Person: ……]

Wen Siyu plopped onto the couch in the living room.

[Mrs. Jiang Xu, Keeper of Handsomeness: I’m interning this summer.]

[Cold Person: Oh.]

[Mrs. Jiang Xu, Keeper of Handsomeness: On Director Li Hengyi’s set.]

[Cold Person: Oh.]

[Mrs. Jiang Xu, Keeper of Handsomeness: Male lead is Jiang Xu.]

[Cold Person: Oh.]

[Cold Person: ……]

[Cold Person: ??????!!!!!!]

Wen Siyu finally got her wish. Laughing aloud, she crossed her legs and began typing furiously.

[Mrs. Jiang Xu, Keeper of Handsomeness: Hahahaha looks like I’ll be hooking up with Jiang Xu sooner rather than later.]

[Cold Person: What’s going on?]

[Mrs. Jiang Xu, Keeper of Handsomeness: What do you mean ‘what’s going on’?]

Gu Yao stopped pretending to be oblivious and sent over a video call.

Wen Siyu: “….”

Picking up the call, she didn’t even get a chance to speak before Gu Yao bombarded her with questions: “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean ‘what’s going on’…” Wen Siyu stretched her arm toward the coffee table to grab another chocolate bar. “I’m just interning on set this summer.”

Gu Yao sat cross-legged on her bed, eyes wide. “Jiang Xu is the male lead?”

“Yes, Jiang Xu is the male lead,” Wen Siyu repeated.

“……”

“So happy for me you’re speechless?” The girl finally managed to grip the chocolate bar between her fingers and popped it into her mouth.

“I feel bad for Jiang Xu,” Gu Yao sighed. “Now he has to endure your leering stares while filming. I wonder if he’ll feel like he’s walking on eggshells every day, suffering endlessly.”

Wen Siyu frowned, indignant. “Miss Gu, I think you misunderstand me. I’m a rational fan.”

“How rational? Do you open a secret account specifically to grovel at his feet?” Gu Yao, one of the few people who knew about her alternate account, mercilessly called her out.

“……At this rate, you’ll never survive in society.”

“Oh.”

Gu Yao picked up a bottle of hand cream from the side table and lazily unscrewed the cap. “Does Jiang Xu know his wife threatens innocent girls with making them unemployable in society?”

Wen Siyu beamed, delighted. “I’ll bring you a gift when I come back!”

“Go ahead and chase him. Don’t bother coming back unless you succeed.”

“……”

Watching the entire exchange from the sidelines, Wen Siyuan thought his sister was far too easy to please.

________________________________________

The makeup tests were complete, and filming officially began. As an assistant director, Wen Siyu should have arrived early to prepare. However, as a second-year university student bogged down by final exams, she had raced home immediately after finishing her last exam to pack her things. After informing her family, she headed straight to the set the following day—but still ended up two days late.

Her flight had been booked hastily. Morning flights were unavailable, so she settled for an afternoon departure. Unfortunately, the flight was delayed, and by the time she landed, it was already 9:30 PM. She called ahead, only to learn that filming had already wrapped for the day.

Dragging her suitcase into the hotel where the crew was staying, she was greeted personally by Director Li Hengyi.

Spotting her as she stepped off the elevator and entered the lobby, the girl hurried over, her eyes crinkling with a bright smile. “Teacher Li!”

Li Hengyi was in his late things, sporting the face of a distinguished gentleman. Having directed two commercially and critically successful films by his thirties, he was widely regarded as a prodigy with a promising future.

Seeing her approach, his gaze softened. “Just arriving? Did your flight get delayed?” He reached out instinctively to take her suitcase.

Wen Siyu quickly stopped him. “Teacher Li, I’m here as your assistant director intern. There’s no way I can let the director carry my luggage—it’s terrifying!”

Li Hengyi paused, then burst into laughter, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “You’re already drawing clear boundaries before we’ve even started working together.”

Wen Siyu grinned, her large, sparkling eyes gleaming mischievously. “Better safe than sorry. What if Teacher Li decides to exploit me as free labor and refuses to pay my internship wages?”

“It’s been years, but your sharp tongue hasn’t changed a bit,” Li Hengyi chuckled, leading her toward the hotel reception desk. “We’ve just finished shooting, so everyone’s hungry. We’re heading out for late-night snacks. Have you eaten yet, Miss Wen?”

Wen Siyu blinked, following his gaze. Only then did she notice a group of people standing just out of sight earlier. They were now watching her interaction with the director, their expressions ranging from curious to bewildered.

Her smile remained intact as she subtly scanned the crowd. Then her gaze froze.

At the edge of the group stood Jiang Xu, leaning casually against the wall with one hand in his pocket, engrossed in his phone.

Dressed in a gray shirt, his long legs crossed as he leaned against the elevator frame. His upper body tilted slightly, his head resting lazily against the marble wall, casting half his face in shadow. His nose was sharp and straight, his jawline clean-cut and sculpted.

As though sensing something, Jiang Xu suddenly straightened and lifted his head. His deep brown eyes locked directly onto hers, dark and intense. Their gazes collided mid-air.

Something inside Wen Siyu exploded like champagne bubbles, spreading uncontrollably through her mind, flooding her vision, consuming her entirely.

For a moment, she heard nothing, saw nothing else.

________________________________________

Author’s Note:

Jiang Xu: I only have 100 words of screentime. Everyone else has more lines than me.