Black Technology Director Can Make Anything Come True (14): 

“You are not worthy of wearing this uniform.”

The cold voice echoed in the silent underground cell, and for the first time, Si Qi’s usually indifferent face showed a slight tremor of reaction.

Chu Feng should have felt delighted at the other’s loss of control, yet the pain in his heart did not lessen at all; instead, his anger became harder and harder to restrain.

“Why!” His palm gripped Si Qi’s collar tightly, pulling his body forward. The arm bound to the wall by chains was yanked harshly, and Si Qi’s face turned pale as a low cry of pain escaped his lips.

Chu Feng’s eyes were bloodshot as he roared, “Since you still care about this uniform, why did you abandon the nation! Abandon honor! Abandon…”

Abandon me…!!

Si Qi lowered his head in silence, seemingly giving up entirely, numb to everything.

Chu Feng violently shoved away the collar he held, slamming Si Qi against the wall, gritting his teeth. “One day I will pry open that mouth of yours!”

“…”

“Cut!”

The assistant director stood behind the monitor, nodding in satisfaction as he called cut. The staff who had been utterly absorbed by the intense confrontation finally snapped out of it, their stunned faces filled with disbelief.

This… this acting was terrifyingly good!!

It was as if two high-ranking imperial officers were truly locked in a psychological duel!

Chu Feng hurriedly raised his hand and carefully unchained Si Qi’s arm. Casually holding his wrist to examine it, he saw the two red marks and instantly felt guilty and miserable, more bitter than swallowing gall.

“Sorry, I…”

Si Qi casually rubbed his wrist, glanced at Chu Feng, and smiled. “It’s nothing.”

Compared to when he had been thrown into prison as a traitor, injured, hanging without food or water for days, this was practically a vacation.

Chu Feng pressed his lips together. Knowing the plot ahead, he couldn’t help but vent his anger. “That Lancelot is really a fool. He knew nothing and still hurt you. Even when he found out the truth later, so what? His pain, his regret, all of it is just…”

Suppressing the crude words that almost slipped out, Chu Feng said with displeasure, “Once you acknowledge someone, you should believe in them firmly to the very end!”

Si Qi, watching Chu Feng passionately curse another world’s Chu Feng, couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh and explained on that Chu Feng’s behalf: “He didn’t know the Federation had brainwashing technology. After capturing Si Qi, they erased his memories and planted hatred for the Empire in his mind. He didn’t know that Si Qi later regained his memories and only went there to earn the Federation’s trust. He never intended to kill the Emperor, because he knew Lancelot was at the Emperor’s side, and Lancelot would surely protect their ruler… The Twin Stars of the Battle of Twin Stars—seemingly enemies, but in truth always comrades with the same goal.”

Not to mention, although Chu Feng at that time hated him to death for betraying the nation, he still never truly harmed him, even secretly wiping his wounds when he had collapsed with a fever. At the core, it was because Chu Feng couldn’t bear to hurt him, treated him as a special existence, unwilling to trample his dignity or go further… Otherwise, with Lancelot’s devotion to the Empire’s honor, far above even his own life, how could he have raised his hand only to lower it lightly, letting him go so easily—when he should have known better than anyone how many cruel methods existed to break a man?

Chu Feng was still dissatisfied, shaking his head. His eyes accidentally fell on Si Qi’s collar. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure whether the striking red mark above that pale, delicate collarbone was makeup or a real wound. His gaze became oddly transfixed, unable to look away…

“Brother!”

A thunderous voice exploded in his ear as Si Lin pulled Si Qi behind him. His dragon-like eyes glared at Chu Feng’s “lecherous” gaze before turning to Si Qi. “Brother, are you hurt? Some people really don’t know how to hold back—getting so worked up during filming, what if you got injured…”

Si Qi, half laughing and crying, was dragged away. “I’m fine…”

“No, I have to check.”

As the two left, Chu Feng, whose thoughts were admittedly impure, could only shrug helplessly. After changing clothes in the dressing room, he came out to find the sky completely dark. With his assistant, he returned to the hotel outside the filming set.

After a shower and a decent dinner, Chu Feng habitually opened his glasses to look at the stored photos of Si Qi. Placing the picture “beside him,” he lay on the bed and slowly drifted into sleep.

In his dream, he saw the dark basement. A youth’s hands were bound to the wall in humiliation, his body drooping weakly from fever and unconsciousness. His thin shirt clung to his damp body, fragile and delicate—so unlike the proud, unrestrained figure in memory—that he froze on the spot, almost afraid to touch him.

He walked over carefully and took the youth down. The youth lay in his arms with eyes shut, head tilted to one side, sweat sliding down his temple, soaking his uniform. Feeling the heat against his palm and the weight so unnervingly light, he couldn’t help but worry if he had suffered terribly after being left behind. He set him gently on the ground, undoing the topmost button.

Snow-white skin was revealed, the delicate collarbone so beautiful one could hardly look away. A red mark lay above it, the vivid color making the skin seem even paler and tender, as though the slightest press would leave a fingerprint.

Chu Feng unfastened the buttons one by one. The sweat-slicked body glowed pale in the dim moonlight.

—How could someone be this beautiful?

In sleep, Chu Feng couldn’t help but think this, lowering himself to press a soft kiss beside that red mark on the collarbone. Yet the real Chu Feng, in that moment, ignored such impulses, moving gently as he cleaned the wounds covering his body with disinfectant gauze and applied healing ointment.

He kept wiping away Si Qi’s endless sweat until his condition improved slightly, then erased all traces, locked him back on the wall, and left with a cold, deep gaze—his steps oddly hurried.

That night, Lancelot, lying in the military district, had a humiliating dream: he dreamed he had failed to restrain himself, and driven by impulse, had grasped that unconscious man, his hand clutching the slender white ankle and placing it against his waist… The next morning, Lancelot’s aura was so oppressive no one dared to breathe near him, his expression terrifyingly dark.

Later, when he discovered what Si Qi had endured after being taken prisoner—his memories erased, the hatred of war forgotten, the promises shared forgotten, everything between them forgotten—Lancelot went mad, smashing everything in his office. Others urged him to give up on Si Qi, for no one had ever reclaimed true memories after Federation brainwashing. But he remembered that look of pain in Si Qi’s eyes when his uniform was torn away… He refused to believe that too was just acting!

Later, the Federation, unwilling to waste Si Qi’s unparalleled military command talent, trusted his “loyalty” and arranged for him to be rescued from the dungeon. At the last moment, Lancelot watched with his own eyes as Si Qi walked away, never stepping out from the shadows of the corner. To his men who arrived late, he said only: “He escaped.”

That was the first time he betrayed his honor, trampled his bottom line, and committed the only reckless act of his life.

He did not believe Si Qi had truly betrayed the Empire.

So he used a newly developed product from the research institute, altering his appearance through optical disguise, and infiltrated the Federation to track down Si Qi.

He called himself Si Qi’s follower, named Connor. He said he did not believe Si Qi had betrayed the Empire, clung to him relentlessly, refusing to back down despite threats or rejection, seeking to confirm his true intentions.

The two experienced countless adventures together until one day he saw with his own eyes Si Qi stealing Federation secrets and transmitting them to the Empire’s army.

Lancelot’s fists clenched—excitement was far too weak a word to describe his feelings then.

He knew it. Si Qi’s love for the Empire came from his soul, rooted in his very being. Even if every memory was altered, it could never be shaken.

Under the guise of Connor, he became Si Qi’s life-and-death companion, sharing secrets as a true friend.

All those years, he had longed to be Si Qi’s friend, but identity, position, and pride had always stood in the way.

Now, at last, he had fulfilled that youthful wish.

Time moved on, tensions between the two nations grew ever sharper, war on the brink. One day before battle, he suddenly received a top-secret message from Si Qi, telling him of a mission only he could complete, asking for his help.

He went without hesitation, only to learn that Si Qi intended to sacrifice himself, planning to assassinate the Federation’s councilors during the meeting, delivering a devastating blow to the Federation and ensuring the Empire’s victory.

And “Connor’s” mission was to take the secrets Si Qi obtained back to the Empire, to deliver them into Lancelot’s hands.

Of course, Lancelot refused. But in the Federation, far from the Emperor’s reach, his refusal meant nothing. Worse, it would only increase Si Qi’s risk of death without an ally.

In the end…

Flames roared endlessly around him. He saw Si Qi, who had been safely sent onto the battleship, his eyes filled with pain as he showed a relieved, content smile.

Chu Feng turned around, and the burning sensation of fire in his dream suddenly vanished. The alarm he had set rang not far away. He opened his eyes in confusion, only to see the cheap furnishings of a cheap hotel room. The dream, so real as if he had personally experienced it, slowly faded from his mind. With a complicated expression, he sat up, unable to understand how he could have immersed himself in the role to such a degree, even imagining so many scenes in his sleep.

What’s more, although the script included the character Connor, it never mentioned that Connor was Lancelot. Not only had he dreamt of the story within the script, but he had even altered Si Qi’s story in his dream. This was just too…

Chu Feng gave a helpless laugh, got up to wash, and went out while the moon was still hanging high above.

At two in the morning, he had to shoot the scene of Si Qi’s prison break.

The scene where Lancelot tended to the wounded and unconscious Si Qi also didn’t exist in the script. Chu Feng thought calmly that it must have been his imagination, dreams born of daily thoughts, and with his usual graceful air, he smiled politely at every staff member who passed by, inwardly lamenting why even in his dreams he was so restrained.

He saw Si Qi sitting under the lights, discussing the script with someone.

Taking the coffee from his assistant, he walked over and placed it in front of Si Qi. Si Qi looked up and said to him, “Sit down. Let me walk you through today’s scene.”

The two spoke quietly for a while. Just then, the actor playing Connor happened to pass by. Si Qi glanced at him, called out, and said to the costume and props staff beside him: “Wait, Connor’s hair color is brown.”

The young woman from costume and props froze for a moment, trying to recall if this detail was ever mentioned in the script. Not entirely sure, she nodded and said, “Alright, I’ll change it.”

But Chu Feng, sitting next to Si Qi, froze in shock—because in his dream, Connor’s hair was indeed brown, unlike the blonde common in the Empire!

Si Qi added, “Also, Connor is very careless. His sleeves are always rolled up unevenly, one higher than the other.”

This was also something never described in the script, and normally such trivial details would never be written in.

Chu Feng sat there, his body stiff. He suddenly remembered that in his dream “he himself,” in order not to let Si Qi discover his true identity, had deliberately done many things the opposite way.

For example, Lancelot, who was always meticulous, making sure his uniform was pristine and his hair perfectly groomed at all times, fearing he might disgrace his family’s honor. Connor, on the other hand, dressed sloppily and behaved casually, speaking loudly—completely opposite to the elegance and nobility of Lancelot.

And indeed, Connor’s sleeves in that dream had been uneven…

The more Chu Feng thought, the more unsettled he felt. Looking carefully at the actor playing Connor, he noticed certain subtle expressions, even the curve of his jawline, were exactly the same as the disguised Lancelot from his dream!

Chu Feng’s mind grew chaotic. Had he ever observed this actor so closely before? Otherwise, why would his dream reproduce such details so vividly? Could this really all be coincidence?

When Si Qi finished pointing out the changes needed and sat back down, Chu Feng, trying to keep his voice calm, said to him: “I noticed in the script, it says that after Si Qi and Connor killed the Federation’s councilors, they returned to the Empire with the classified documents. Si Qi presented them to the Emperor, making the Emperor believe in his loyalty once again, and the Emperor gave him command of several armies to take advantage of the chaos in the Federation, bringing an end to this centuries-long tragedy…”

Looking into Si Qi’s calm black eyes waiting for him to continue, Chu Feng asked word by word: “Why didn’t Si Qi give the documents to Lancelot? Why did he risk entering the palace to see the Emperor, when there was still the unresolved suspicion of assassination between them? That was an extremely dangerous move.”

Si Qi froze slightly.

Under Chu Feng’s intense gaze, he showed a look of reminiscence, and admitted with puzzlement, “Lancelot disappeared…”

Chu Feng’s heart jolted violently. He pressed on without yielding: “Why did he disappear?”

Si Qi said, “I don’t know…”

Back then, he had never been able to find out.

At that time, Xiu Xiu could do nothing but take him across worlds. It couldn’t infiltrate networks like it could now to gather all the information of the universe. And besides, the Federation and Empire were mortal enemies, their networks deliberately cut off from each other to prevent leaks, making intelligence gathering even harder.

Chu Feng’s head buzzed, his heart pounding as more and more clues surfaced in his mind.

Like his subconscious reactions during yesterday’s action scenes, the sudden flashes of imperial secrets when reciting lines, Connor’s brown hair and careless appearance…

The conclusion was unbelievable. Tentatively, Chu Feng asked: “You’re the creator of the script. How could you not know?”

Si Qi fell silent.

Although he was the creator, he didn’t want to casually alter the events of the past, to overwrite them simply because “this arrangement makes more sense.” That would be disrespectful.

He saw himself only as someone writing down a memoir of what had truly happened.

Chu Feng’s gaze grew darker, his eyes filled with probing intent.

He wanted to ask Si Qi: why do you act as if such a world truly existed, with every character real? Why, as the “god” of this world, do you say you don’t know what happened to a character?

If not for how strange it sounded, he would have asked outright: you gave the protagonist your own name, described the story with such a tone of reminiscence, painting every person’s appearance and habits so vividly—was there really no other reason?

Chu Feng asked him: “The Imperial Research Institute, did they develop an optical disguise device back then?”

Si Qi froze. He couldn’t recall such a detail, so he asked Xiu Xiu: [Check for me.]

As a system, Xiu Xiu could search memory far faster than the human brain. Very quickly, it answered: [Yes!]

A faint unease surfaced in Si Qi’s heart.

Seeing his expression, Chu Feng sighed softly, his gaze unconsciously softening: “Have you considered that Connor might be Lancelot?”

“Bang—”

Si Qi leapt to his feet, so startled that he accidentally knocked over the stool beneath him.

Just then, Si Lin, having finished breakfast, arrived at the filming area. His face darkened instantly at the scene, and he rushed over shouting, “Brother, what happened!!”

He then glared warily at Chu Feng, even ready to lash out, but was stopped by Si Qi.

Si Qi looked at Chu Feng with a complicated expression. That gaze was absolutely not the look one gave to a colleague discussing a script, but rather…

Chu Feng’s heart clenched tightly, then suddenly relaxed. His wavering emotions finally seemed to settle.

Yes, if that were true, then everything made sense.

In fact, Si Qi had revealed many slip-ups, perhaps because he trusted Chu Feng, unafraid of being exposed, and had no intention of hiding anything from him.

This might be the leftover affection Si Qi still held from his past life—for him, for Lancelot.

Whether it was his combat skills, the incredibly detailed settings of starship weapons, war backgrounds, and character relationships, or the attitude he had just shown in their conversation—

All convinced Chu Feng that he and Si Qi had once been comrades and rivals in another world. And Si Qi remembered those times clearly, every detail vivid, and for reasons of nostalgia or affection, had turned those experiences into a film—awakening fragments of Chu Feng’s memory.

If not for others being present, he truly would have asked Si Qi outright about the truth.

But seeing Si Lin’s vigilance, clearly wanting to take Si Qi away to a place without witnesses, he knew it would be difficult.

He said to Si Qi: “What do you think of my guess?”

Si Qi nodded. “You’re right. Connor was Lancelot.”

Not only because Lancelot’s sudden disappearance at the time indirectly proved it, but also because after Si Qi restored his military rank and returned to the Empire’s upper echelons, he once tried to find Connor’s relatives to give them the treatment of a martyr’s family.

But he found nothing.

It might have been understandable back when Si Qi was in the Federation, abandoned by all, that he couldn’t investigate Connor’s true identity in the Empire. But later, after becoming an Imperial General, he still found nothing…

That alone already implied many things.

Si Qi shook his head helplessly, his gaze complicated as he looked at Chu Feng a few more times. That look seemed to hold both blame and gratitude, making Si Lin so worried that he feared his elder brother might lose his head for a moment and fall into that damned beauty trap…

Chu Feng, however, felt somewhat pleased at Si Qi’s increasingly intimate gaze.

It seemed that although he had been a bit foolish in his past life and nearly misunderstood Si Qi, in the end, he had still done the right thing.

If he had truly chosen, for the sake of that damned honor or victory in war, to sit by and watch Si Qi go to his death alone, then at this moment he would have absolutely no face to meet Si Qi, and would hate his past self with shame.

Now, not only did he not feel ashamed, but he had even gained Si Qi’s goodwill. This sacrifice was truly worth it…

Si Qi lowered his head to revise the script, and Chu Feng leaned closer, asking, “What kind of feelings do you think Lancelot has for Si Qi?”

The tip of Si Qi’s pen halted. He lifted his head and looked at Chu Feng with a half-smile.

Having spent so many worlds together with Chu Feng, and now having become a Lord God himself, Si Qi knew that Chu Feng at this moment could not possibly recover his memories as a Lord God or recall all their experiences in other worlds. Therefore, Chu Feng’s deduction that Lancelot was Connor might have been a coincidence, or perhaps the result of some sudden spark of insight. But now, saying such a thing out of nowhere… was he trying to sneak extra scenes into the script, using it as an excuse to take advantage of him openly?

If it were anyone else doing this, Si Qi definitely would not entertain it.

But the one asking was Chu Feng—his rightful lover. If his lover wanted to show their affection in a movie, what reason did he have to refuse? Besides, wasn’t it kind of interesting?

So he directly countered, “If you were Lancelot, what do you think? What feelings would you have for Si Qi?”

Chu Feng’s heart skipped a beat. He thought, sure enough, Si Qi considered him to be Lancelot, otherwise why would he ask such a question? With a little hidden thought, he replied, “I think Lancelot likes Si Qi—not the liking of a friend, but the liking one has for a lover.”

“Don’t spout nonsense here!” Si Lin immediately saw through Chu Feng’s little trick, and jumped up angrily. “My brother wrote the script very clearly. The two of them were at odds ever since military school—one, born a noble who looked down on everyone, the other, born a commoner who was constantly oppressed by the powerful. Like each other? You’re just seeing things with rotten eyes!”

Chu Feng responded in a righteous tone, “You can’t say it like that. I don’t know exactly how Si Qi feels, but as for Lancelot, the person he respects the most is someone who is brave, strong, and responsible. Si Qi is exactly that kind of person, and no less capable than him. Lancelot looks down on everyone, but Si Qi is the one exception. And…”

Remembering the feelings he had for Si Qi in that ‘dream,’ his voice unconsciously softened, and his gaze turned evasive as he continued, “He should have fallen for Si Qi at first sight. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken excuses to discipline those noble brats when they bullied Si Qi, wouldn’t have gotten angry and picked on Si Qi when he saw him getting along better with others, forcing him to be in the same group as himself. If you look deeper into the script, those events actually reveal a lot.”

Si Lin rolled his eyes. “I think you’re just trying to force their relationship in that direction! My brother wrote the script, and he said they’re friends—enemies and rivals at times, but still friends. So they’re friends!”

Chu Feng thought to himself that Si Qi had only written the script according to his memories, not by fabricating it out of imagination. So what Si Qi said wasn’t necessarily one hundred percent correct—after all, Chu Feng was another party involved too.

Si Qi smiled and said, “The direction of the script won’t change, but Lawrence, however you want to interpret Lancelot’s role is up to you. That could be fun too.”

—Could be fun?!

Chu Feng’s eyes widened, and his heart suddenly sped up.

That meant Si Qi didn’t actually reject this interpretation, didn’t mind if Lancelot had secretly loved him back then?!

Then, as Lancelot’s reincarnation, could he also be accepted by Si Qi, could he also quietly love him under Si Qi’s tacit approval?

Si Lin puffed his cheeks, clearly unhappy. “Brother…”

Si Qi chuckled. “Isn’t making movies supposed to be fun?”

Seeing Si Qi’s lighthearted and joyful expression, Si Lin instantly fell silent.

The world might be vast, but his brother was the greatest.

If his brother thought it was fun, then so be it. For now, let Chu Feng this shameless man be pleased for a while—later, he’d better not think he could keep getting such good fortune!

…

After realizing that what Si Qi was filming was actually a documentary with verifiable history, Chu Feng, looking at the script again, noticed many different things.

For example, the weapons used in the movie were real, feasible high-tech laser guns that had actually existed and could indeed be manufactured.

For example, the starship and battleship designs that had been finalized only after countless scientists had performed billions of calculations and modifications, exhausting immense financial and material resources.

For example, the battle command guides that humans living within a planet could never imagine by sheer imagination alone—true strategies of space warfare.

Each one of these things, if presented to the world, would be enough to stun future civilizations in the great cosmic era, giving them countless treasures full of joy and astonishment.

That was a kind of wealth money could never buy, a shortcut to bypass many detours, a ready-made answer when faced with the unknown.

What was even more outrageous was…

Chu Feng discovered that the star domain maps in the film were completely different from those in his past-life memories.

If Si Qi truly wanted to reproduce everything exactly as it had been back then, he had no need to deliberately alter this part—he could just tell the audience it was fictional.

The fact that he deliberately changed it, even adding many alien civilizations different from the past, carried a meaning that…

Was utterly terrifying upon careful thought.

Who knew how future descendants, once realizing something was wrong, would feel when they looked at these “prophetic” films made thousands or tens of thousands of years earlier, that matched the reality of the universe perfectly?

It would absolutely feel like discovering a treasure.