Jing Yu let out a long breath and rolled down the car window.
"How long was that?" he asked the staff member standing not far from the vehicle.
"Four minutes and fifty-eight seconds," the staffer replied, looking a little dazed.
He knew full well how tough that stretch of road was—lots of sharp turns, steep downhill grades, and narrow lanes. Even going 30–40 km/h would be tough for an average driver. One wrong move, and you'd scrape the guardrail.
But Jing Yu? He'd gone downhill at over 100 km/h the whole way—it was absolutely nuts.
"Four minutes and fifty-eight... Slower than I expected," Jing Yu muttered under his breath.
"You're insane!" Cheng Lie stumbled out of the passenger seat, cursing under his breath. As soon as he got out, his legs buckled, and he nearly collapsed.
"You make all this money—aren't you afraid you'll die before you get a chance to spend it?!"
Jing Yu glanced back at him.
"You were the one who didn't believe it. You said my script was unrealistic—that going down the mountain in under five minutes, with water in the cup not spilling and tofu in the trunk unbroken, was impossible. You insisted on sitting in the car to expose my 'lies.' I told you at Yunteng—if I write something in the script, it's because I know it can be done."
Jing Yu gestured toward the cup holder in the car, where a paper cup of coffee was still sitting. The coffee inside was still swirling in a small vortex. Then he popped open the trunk—inside, a box of tofu was perfectly intact.
"If I hadn't been worried you couldn't handle going even faster—and if carrying you and that tofu hadn't added extra weight—I'd have shaved even more time off that run."
"Alright," he turned to the crew, "have the kitchen take the tofu in. Today we're having tofu again."
"Tofu again?! Come on…"
"Seriously? We've had tofu every day this week."
"I feel like I smell like tofu now!"
Many of the crew members began to grumble.
But hey, these were props for filming—once they'd served their purpose during the day, there was no sense in wasting them. Might as well eat them at night.
"Stop complaining. Once this week is over, we won't be shooting these tofu scenes anymore. Then even if you want tofu, you won't get any!"
Once everyone had dispersed, Cheng Lie came over, still visibly shaken.
"Damn, man… where the hell did you learn to drive like that? And that drift—how do you even pull that off? If I learn how to drift, can I drive like you, too?"
"Producer Cheng, I really suggest you stop daydreaming. Driving downhill as fast as I do? Anyone can hit those speeds. Surviving the descent is another story."
"Just tell me who taught you, and I'll go train under them!"
"Uh… to be honest, I just had a regular instructor at driving school. That guy yelled at me like seven or eight times while I was getting my license—it still gives me PTSD. Other than that, I've never even joined a car enthusiast group."
"You're kidding. What kind of miracle-driving school is that?"
"They're all the same. Look, once you've got your license, how well you drive comes down to talent," Jing Yu said plainly.
"..."
Cheng Lie had no words.
You really can't win a conversation with this kind of showoff.
After lunch, the crew got to work.
'Initial D''s core scenes were mostly night shoots.
Although the original manga was long—no shorter than 'Hikaru no Go'—its essence clearly lay in the arc where Takumi dominates Mount Akina.
Once Takumi joined a pro team and left Akina, the vibe of the story changed. So naturally, Jing Yu planned to end 'Initial D's narrative arc at just the right moment.
The minor boss characters in the drama could drive cars, sure—but street racing? That was another story. Most didn't have the skills.
This is where the mountain racers Jing Yu had hired came in. They were responsible for pulling off the stunt driving and race choreography.
However...
Over the past few days of filming, Jing Yu had been quite dissatisfied. Some of the things he asked for, the drivers thought were impossible, and they started pushing back.
Eventually, they challenged him to a little friendly competition—to test each other's driving skills.
By the time filming resumed today, though, they had stopped talking back. Now, instead of questioning Jing Yu's requests, they started asking him for tips on how to execute those moves and coordinate better.
"Ugh… I'm beat." Jing Yu reviewed the footage again.
He frowned.
He could personally replicate all the racing maneuvers that Fujiwara Takumi performed in the manga. But the other drivers clearly weren't up to par.
Whether it was entry and exit angles or speed, none of it was optimal.
Sure, he could fix a lot in editing—but ideally, he wanted long, unbroken tracking shots. If he could avoid jump cuts, he absolutely would.
The problem was that he could only drive one car at a time. And when the stunt drivers acting opposite him weren't at his level, he had to deliberately slow himself down to match them, which frustrated him to no end.
"Honestly, I think it looks pretty good," Cheng Lie offered from the side.
"These kinds of problems happen all the time in filming. Post-production can smooth it out—it won't be a big deal."
"Just shoot a few more takes and pick the best clips for the edit. That's probably our best option for now." Jing Yu sighed.
These drivers were already insanely skilled by normal standards. But compared to Jing Yu, who had a skill panel buff, they still fell short.
Jing Yu understood that. He didn't blame them. Even if they swapped in a new batch, the improvement wouldn't be huge—maybe a difference between a 91 and a 92 out of 100. Finding a 100? Impossible.
Still...
After that night's scenes were wrapped—
The next morning, Jing Yu had all four of the mountain racers up bright and early.
"I've realized something," he said. "As human beings, we have limits. But also as humans, we should keep pushing those limits."
The four drivers looked at him, completely confused.
"We're going into special training. I'll help you all improve your driving skills. However much you improve, that's how much better the racing scenes will be. Most of our shoots are at night anyway, so don't slack off during the day."
The character Keisuke (Takahashi Keisuke), who appears early on, was essentially the weakest of the small boss types. Characters like Nakazato (Takeshi Nakazato) and Shingo (Shingo Shoji) weren't much stronger.
With the current level of these four drivers, they could barely pass as stunt doubles for those characters getting smoked by Takumi.
But when the Usui Pass duo—Mako Sato and Sayuki—showed up, and especially for scenes featuring Ryosuke (Takahashi Ryosuke)'s racing, these guys just weren't good enough.
Of course, the audience had no sense of the technical details. No matter how Jing Yu shot it, viewers would think it was amazing. Even if he only hit 70% of his ideal, the audience would see it as a full 100%.
But while it was easy to fool the audience, Jing Yu couldn't fool himself. He knew the racing sequences could be even better.
His own driving wasn't the issue. If he could boost these four drivers by even one level, the quality of their scenes would improve by that much.
Sure, it cost him—he was paying them to be here, and now he was going to personally train them too. But at this point, he didn't care.
"Special training?"
The four drivers glanced at each other.
After being soundly beaten by Jing Yu on the mountain roads, they had to admit—they were fully convinced by his skills. His inch-perfect drifting, hugging the guardrail like it was painted on—his racing was so smooth it was like watching art in motion.
Free food and drink on set, getting paid, and now a pro teaching them how to get better?
Where do you find a deal like this?
All four of them suddenly lit up with excitement.