Chapter Text
“Proud Desert Conqueror” was a student-produced film, inspired by sci-fi novel “Dune” and post-apocalyptic culture in modern media. Being only a small project, it masterfully exploited limited budget opportunities and presented itself as an epic, cinematic, but nevertheless humble movie, a simple good-feel story with the steady plotline. The viewer follows the story of a young boy, abandoned by world on the harsh and hostile planet SV-465-C, the Sand Planet, as he goes through hell, gains powers and desert flowers, finds his origins and gets revenge from his enemies in tenfold. Luo BingHe, the protagonist, has an inspiring character, not breaking under the pressure, but blackening and absorbing all the evil around him - true “black lotus”.
Pretty cool, huh?
Shen Yuan hated the whole deal, and he was the part of it.
It went something like this: some annoying guy from film school saw him, proceeded to crawl on his knees for Shen Yuan's whole lunch period asking him to play in his "small project, no biggie, just for a day", and, after Yuan agreed, straight up imprisoned him for a week of hellish filming in unlivable conditions. Even Shen Yuan, who wasn't afraid of eating four-year-old instant curry, had a bad time.
No scheduled breaks, stuffy costumes, stupid dialogue lines, demanded overdramatic acting that made everyone cringe... The only good point was that all of it wasn't shot in the actual desert. And that point was easily eliminated by the sheer temperature on the filming site. Some “actors” - other unfortunate students from different majors - called quits after two days, and the only reason Shen Yuan didn't leave with them was the editor's heart-wrenching tears. His heart was always weak to tears. Also, he was promised five months worth of Doshirak. His poor college heart was weak to good instant noodles too.
The guy that scouted him called himself Airplane since his Twitter handle was a disgusting euphemism, but others just called him Shang Xiao. Shang Xiao studied in film school and was a total trash animal on its peak evolution. Shen Yuan never really caught his face, because he mostly was laying face down on the floor, until someone nudged him with a stick, and provided zero support on shooting. But no one got mad at him, since he single-handedly wrote the script, found experienced cameramen, juggled with authorities and edited scenes at night. He was responsible at most, pitiful at least.
On the other hand, Shang Xiao was a talented editor and animator, not a freaking scriptwriter!
On top of constantly changing actors, the original story was modified into three much longer parts mid-shooting, so Shen Yuan had to relearn everything two times. The plotline was intact, but still somehow so mangled that even he, being a literature major, had to take a break in between reading and whisper curses in sheer awe. The protagonist had all the girls, even if they didn't want him, and all men were bad and stupid... Including Shen Yuan's character, the one, the only - the Bad Blackmailing Boss Shen Qingqiu.
Yeah, ”Proud Desert Conqueror” was so bad that even his character's name was just another version of his own. Well, Shang Xiao asked him to act simply because of his uniquely "expressionless face" in the first place, which was, by the way, very rude.
"That's exactly the face of my villain!" he wailed, clutching his pant, "The final boss should be aloof, intelligent, the great tumor of a human colony, and a really pretty and elegant man at that!"
Shen Qingqiu was indeed an intelligent and elegant man, but he also was a dumbass, who only knew how to throw himself into idiotic rants about his "genius villain plans" and non-existent personal struggles. Every bad thing was made on his accord, but the reasons were ultimately stupid! He was basic cannon fodder, just mechanically cubed into the main villain with cliché and convenient situations!
By the end of the week Shen Yuan was sick of it. He was tired, wrung out, sweaty and not caring. He got out of his stupid costume, said goodbye to stupid Airplane, dragged himself to his stupid dorm and collapsed on his stupid bed. His insides churned, but he had no power to crawl to the bathroom. Laying on his stomach helped. Shen Yuan closed his eyes and thought: ‘Maybe eating that last Cup Noodle wasn't such a good idea. It was expired by two years after all’.
After that, his thoughts stopped.
Suddenly, he woke up on his back.
The air around him was damp and cold. It smelled like mold, plants and wet soil. Shen Yuan pried open his sticky lips, taking a shallow breath, and tasted dirt. His body was heavy as if he overslept by an unhealthy amount. Otherwise, he wasn't uncomfortable: he was laying on some kind of soft bed, a bit too short as his heels were hanging off the mattress, covered with a soft quilt, and his gut was fine. But he wasn’t in his dorm and, after he tried opening his eyes, he saw only darkness. His vision was blocked.
Did his roommate drag him out into the woods while he was sleeping? What kind of joke was that? This definitely wasn't a dream.
Fortunately, his limbs were free. Slowly propping himself up, Shen Yuan felt around his face. His head was covered in bandages, bracing his temples and going over his eyes, but it didn't hurt, so he carefully hooked up the edge and peeled it up.
Good news, he wasn't in the forest. Bad news, he was in a cave.
Though the word ‘cave’ wasn't the right one to describe the environment. Wide bed, which he found himself on, was positioned in the middle of the tall dim stone cavern. The room was wall to wall filled with book cabinets, although inside he saw only what looked like dark stone tablets, and every corner had an exotic-looking plant with climbing vines. The furniture was modest. Right in front of him, there was a semi-transparent sliding door. The light fluffy canopy was closed over the headboard, and near his leg laid a huge sword, covered in something crusty and dark.
What is happening? This didn't look even remotely familiar! Where the hell was he?!
A jingle sounded right between his ears. He jumped and grabbed his own face.
“What the h-”
[The System is starting up. Please wait.]
The robotic voice was coming from his head. He felt confused, but goofy intonations at least made him think of Siri, which was funny. Although, he would probably find anything funny in this situation to make himself at ease.
[Complete. Welcome, Host. This System operates in design concept with unconditional support to viewers, feeling wronged by cinematographic work. Our team hopes to provide you with the best possible experience, opening opportunities to fulfill your desire and, according to your wishes, transform a stupid piece of garbage into an enjoyable movie classic.]
Shen Yuan tilted to the side, still holding a hand over his face. His mind hurt. Maybe he should have not pulled his bandages off. He snorted but stopped himself from giggling. It wasn't the time to collapse.
He heard someone walk behind the door. As he looked up, the panel slid to the side, opening up to the stranger. Tall, clad in black dense jacket and silver plates, with short stylish black hair. Seeing Shen Yuan leaning on the headboard, the man dashed over to him, joy sparkling in his bright eyes, and supported with one hand. His voice was full of worry.
”Governor Shen, how do you feel? Does your head hurt?”
Who are you? What governor?
Shen Yuan didn't ask that. He pretended to close his eyes, all of his attention concentrated on his visitor. His armor was peculiar, protecting his arms and shoulders, leaving elbows open. Under his course robes, he wore a tight synthetic turtleneck, completely covering him up until his chin. The arm around his back felt incredibly warm as if the man only just left the dry sauna.
His clothes were terrifically familiar. Shen Yuan felt cold sweat dripping down his back. They looked impossibly similar to his costume for “Conqueror”.
Could it be that he transmigrated in that shitshow? That was it, wasn't it?
“Shen?” the man lost his vigor, seeing that his company is silent. Yuan took a deep breath and grabbed the sword near him. Come what may.
“I'm fine. Let me go.”
The man sat back, pulling his hands away. He looked positively delighted, which made Shen Yuan somewhat calm. ‘At least he doesn't look like a bad guy,’ he thought, pulling a weapon on his lap. The crust crumbled under his fingers and he looked down on the sword. Firstly, he needs some answers.
“My head is muddled. Where am I?” started he, moving his gaze to the visitor.
“Did you lose your memory in the crash?” the man startled and extended his hand to him, stopping himself midway. “You are at your own main chambers.”
“How… Long was I unconscious?” mumbled he, noting down ’crash’ and ‘main chambers’. Pieces started to click together, finally forming a complete picture after his guest's answer.
“For two days. You don't have to worry, the shipment of import products and nutrient packs was completed. You were rescued right after the sandstorm attack, they found you in the ship wreckage, fortunately mostly unharmed. But I still don't understand - why did you go? Are you worried that the imperial government will suddenly increase taxes for the whole Sand Planet? Human colonies here are their only channel for spice flow, they won't try to bite the feeding hand.”
Holy god. He was in the “Proud Desert Conqueror”.
[Your account had been verified. Your address: planet SV-465-C, Imperial human colony ‘Second Awakening’, Qing Jing Underground Palace, main chambers. Your role: Luo Binghe's master, city guard head, city governor Shen Qingqiu. Your weapon: Titled Imperial Sword of Beauty. Starting points: 80. We place our hopes on you.]