Su Lu sat cross-legged on the floor, munching on instant noodles that tasted like expired dreams and hopes boiled in MSG. Beside him sat his first employee, the infamous 3-foot-tall Dandan, who had the attitude of a retired gangster and the appetite of a vacuum cleaner.
Su Lu narrowed his eyes. "Dandan, did you… actually get permission from your parents to stay here?"
Dandan nodded, chewing on his fifth steamed bun. "Yup. They said I'm free to go if I don't come back till I become rich."
Su Lu blinked. "...Huh. That sounds legally suspicious, but emotionally inspiring."
He stood up, stretching like a broken action figure. "Well, today's the big day. I'm going to be promoted to—elite spot boy."
He said it like he was being knighted by the Queen. Dandan stood too, a proud soldier with a giant plastic spider clinging to his shoulder like some superhero's haunted mascot.
The two stepped out of their shack—a building so tragic even termites had moved out. They wore mismatched shirts, held up by belts made from shoelaces, and ties that clearly came from a sewing class gone wrong.
Above them, God, somewhere in heaven, looked down in horror.
"WHO USED MY HAND-CARVED ANGELIC LACE FOR THAT ABOMINATION OF A TIE?!"
An auntie from next door saw them leave. She elbowed her daughter, whispering, "See that boy? Such big body, why don't you go greet him?"
The girl, sipping soy milk like a Netflix heroine, scoffed. "I want to be independent."
Her phone buzzed: "Where should we book the gigloo?"
On Set – Budget Heaven Studios
As they arrived on the chaotic drama set, the crew stopped for a second—not out of respect, but because Su Lu accidentally stepped on the boom mic wire.
The staff manager squinted at him with a mix of suspicion and relief. "You're finally here, Su Lu! We need someone to clean the—"
Before the sacred words "toilet bowls" could leave his lips, Su Lu raised one dramatic finger in the air.
Dandan slammed a piece of paper on the production board like a mic drop. The title read:
"Su Lu's Career Ascension Chart – Phase 1"
The manager blinked. "What… is this… K.G. result?!"
Su Lu, now oozing fake HR energy, adjusted his lace tie and pulled out a crumpled, noodle-stained resume. "Sir, I believe a man of my skillset deserves a position of greater magnitude. This is my resume. Dandan, not yours, mine. Keep yours for your kindergarten interview."
Dandan pouted but nodded like a true assistant.
The manager stared for a second.
Then—clap! "Welcome aboard, Su Lu. You've just been promoted… to Intermediate Spot Boy! You now have full access to the staff lunch counter!"
Su Lu saluted. "Thank you, Sir. I shall not let you down… unless it's a lunch tray."
And so began his glorious rise from the shadows of shantytown to the fluorescent lights of mid-tier success.
Su Lu and Dandan arrived at the lunch counter like victorious warriors returning from battle. The counter was a humble setup with steel trays, watery curry, and a mountain of rice that looked like it had witnessed war crimes. But to Su Lu?
He gasped. "Dandan… look. No price tags. It's free."
Dandan blinked. "We… don't have to run today?"
"No, my boy," Su Lu said, placing a fatherly hand on his spider-shouldered minion, "Today… we eat like salaried gods."
They marched forward, filled their plates to dangerous capacity, and sat on the least-sticky table available. Su Lu sniffed the air, tearing up. "This curry… smells like stability."
Across the Set—The World of Spotlight
Under an umbrella that cost more than Su Lu's rent, Actor Wei Chen, a second-tier face with first-tier narcissism, sipped his protein shake with suspicion as he watched the duo devour lunch like starving pandas.
Beside him sat Actress Shen Feifei, who was less concerned with food and more concerned with survival. Her fake nails clacked against her phone screen as she scrolled through gossip forums.
She sighed. "Wei-ge, I think we should call someone good. There's no way we're making real money off this. Our sponsor's been cancelled—he cheated on his third wife with his lawyer and lost half his assets."
Wei Chen nodded grimly. "And look at the set. It's full of lowlife people… uncultured… no aura of artistry."
He glanced again at Su Lu, who was currently trying to fish a piece of potato from the curry using two spoons and a straw. Dandan, meanwhile, was stealing packets of salt to build a small fort.
Feifei narrowed her eyes at the scene. "Wait… that guy. He looks like someone who'd survive a nuclear apocalypse."
Wei snorted. "Or cause it."
Feifei smirked. "Maybe he's not lowlife. Maybe he's… entertainment value."
Wei looked again. Su Lu had now turned his napkin into a headband and was explaining lunch strategy like a general.
"Dandan, the fried tofu is slippery. Attack it from the side. We leave no tofu behind!"
Feifei leaned closer, eyes shining with wicked curiosity. "Let's keep an eye on him. If this movie flops… at least we'll have some comedy clips to post."
As the curry storm passed and plates were cleared (mostly by Dandan), Su Lu leaned back on the wobbly plastic chair, patting his stomach.
"Dandan," he said with fake maturity and a tired voice, "you must return now… to your people."
Dandan blinked. "But… you said I was your first employee?"
"You are. And also my only unpaid intern," Su Lu said solemnly. "But your school called thrice, your aunt came to beat me once, and I can't afford to feed a growing child with the metabolism of a cheetah. Go home, become a scholar, and someday… spotboy for real."
Dandan sniffled, "Will we meet again?"
Su Lu stood, gave him the last half-eaten gulab jamun, and said, "When destiny needs unpaid labour again… I'll summon you."
Dandan saluted with a spoon, turned, and ran—waving emotionally like he was leaving for war.
The director shouted from behind the camera, "Where's my towel? I'm sweating like a boiled shrimp!"
The assistant screamed, "Spotboy!"
And that's how Su Lu was born again.
Dashing across the set, dodging wires like a battlefield veteran, he arrived holding the towel… slightly used.
"Sorry," he smiled brightly. "I had to test absorbency. Quality check."
The director blinked, too sweaty to argue. "Fine. Water bottle now!"
Su Lu darted back to the storage box, only to trip over an actor's Chihuahua. He twisted midair like a seasoned dancer and landed… in a full split.
The actress Feifei, watching from her vanity chair, whispered to Wei Chen, "That man just dodged a dog and physics."
Wei Chen replied, "That wasn't a dodge. That was reincarnation."
Su Lu stood back up, brushed imaginary dirt off his spotboy uniform (a.k.a. yesterday's T-shirt), and delivered the water bottle with dramatic flair like he was presenting an Oscar.
The staff manager blinked again. "Hmm… he's weird but reliable."
From that day on, Su Lu officially entered the realm of Elite Spotboys, the unsung backbone of every chaotic shoot.
***
A sleek black car screeched to a halt outside the set like it had just landed from Hollywood. Out stepped Master Yu, tall, perfectly styled, and radiating the type of arrogance that comes with years of villain roles and rumors of backstage romances.
Makeup artists gasped. Stylists whispered.
One staff member murmured, "He's known for two things: villainous smirks… and bedroom gymnastics."
Another whispered, "Didn't he once seduce a heroine just by looking at her script?"
Everyone turned their full attention to the walking ego in Gucci.
---
Meanwhile: Su Lu, the Dedicated Spotboy
Su Lu, completely unaffected by the dramatic background music playing in his head, walked up with a humble paper cup of orange juice. His smile was crooked, his shirt had a mustard stain, and his nametag read: S. Lu – Spotboy Extraordinaire.
"Sir, your vitamin C delivery," he said with mock-seriousness.
Master Yu glanced down like someone had offered him sewer water.
Then, in one smooth, practiced motion honed by years of playing evil CEOs, he tripped Su Lu with his boot.
Su Lu stumbled, wobbled like a newborn deer, and dramatically faceplanted—except he caught himself just before the floor with one hand, juice still upright in the other.
Gasps spread. A pigeon fainted.
Yu scoffed, "You should show more respect, lowly spotboy."
Su Lu, still crouched, holding the heroic juice cup like a sacred relic, looked up with a smile so forced it deserved an acting award.
He muttered under his breath, "May your shampoo always get in your eyes…"
Then said out loud, "Yup! Very sorry, sir. How dare a wage-slave like me breathe in the same oxygen as your cologne?"
He bowed so low his spine cracked.
Yu, smug, took the juice and strutted off like a walking Instagram filter.
Su Lu stood up, dusted himself off, and sighed, "I swear, one day I'll own a company… just to fire people like him for sport."
Nearby, someone whispered, "That spotboy is weirdly charismatic…"
Another added, "Yeah… but he's kinda hot when angry."
***
The air was heavy with tension, almost whispering secrets of betrayal and heartbreak. A lonely leaf floated across the set, as if nature itself held its breath.
In the middle of the dramatic spotlight, Actor Yu stood like a god of cold vengeance, eyes lifeless but hypnotic, like a man whose soul had long turned to marble.
With a voice that echoed like thunder in a velvet box, he whispered,
"You made a mistake by getting in my way."
Then, with a flourish worthy of an Oscar—or at least a spicy meme—he kicked the character Feifei, who crumpled to the ground in anguish, murmuring through her fake blood-smudged lips,
"You can't do it… he is… my love…"
Silence.
Then—
"CUT!!!"
The director, who had seemingly been invisible till now, jumped out from behind a prop tree yelling like a football coach at a tea party,
"Perfect! That's the scene! Yu! You were fire! Feifei! Keep dying like that, it's beautiful!"
Suddenly—like a postman who delivers only during emotional peaks—Su Lu strolled in, balancing a cardboard tray of juice cups like a sacred offering.
He wore his signature expression: half polite smile, half exhausted resignation.
"Fresh juice for all the heartbreakers and heartbroken," he said in a monotone as he offered the cups, like a vending machine with feelings.
Actor Yu took a cup without even glancing, still in character.
Feifei, eyes still closed on the ground, whispered, "Do you have mango flavor?"
Su Lu crouched next to her, handed her a juice with the grace of a butler in a third-rate romance drama, and whispered back,
"You get lemon. Sour suits heartbreak."
Then, he stood up and muttered to himself,
"Even the dying get better catering than me…"
As he walked away, the camera crew stared at him strangely.
Boom mic guy whispered to light guy,
"He's just a spotboy but… doesn't he feel like the main character sometimes?"
Light guy nodded, squinting at Su Lu's back.
"Yeah. Like an NPC who's about to break the game."
***
The camera was off. The crew was resetting lights. Actor Yu was touching up his eyeliner like a dramatic war general prepping for round two.
Suddenly—BOOM! A clumsy staff member tripped over a cable, and Feifei let out a startled yelp.
The director turned, grumpy. "We need a stand-in for light adjustment. Anyone? Hey! You, spotboy! You've got legs—stand here!"
Su Lu, still holding his juice tray, blinked. "Me?"
The assistant director shoved a fake sword in his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Just look menacing."
Su Lu stepped up. Lights on. He stood where Actor Yu had stood moments ago.
The scene assistant joked, "Say the line. C'mon, act like you're about to destroy your mortal enemy."
Su Lu rolled his shoulders, handed the juice tray to a baffled Dandan who had randomly come back to return his pencil, and suddenly… something clicked.
The eyes of an exhausted office worker lit up with the pain of unpaid overtime, betrayal by lunch coupons, and that one time HR scheduled a meeting during his break.
He stepped forward, body eerily still, and said in a voice like cold steel laced with suppressed trauma:
"You dare take my stapler… again?"
Silence.
He raised the fake sword, eyes dark and heavy with backstory that didn't exist five seconds ago, and added:
"Then be ready… to pay with your coffee privileges."
Feifei, still lounging on the floor, gasped. "Why do I feel like crying?"
Even Actor Yu paused mid-eyeliner. "Wait… that delivery… was raw."
The director squinted. "Who is this guy?"
Before anyone could clap, Su Lu bowed with the grace of a veteran samurai, picked up his juice tray again, and walked off saying:
"Lunch break's almost over."
And in that moment, the crew knew:
They had just witnessed the birth of an accidental acting legend.