No matter how bloody the internal personnel battles were, it was nothing new. As a dirt-poor supporting actress on the verge of being abandoned by her company, Rong Guang could only pretend she saw nothing.
She took a step back, looked up at the sky, and pretended not to see the two people inside grabbing each other by the neck, desperately shaking and struggling.
Director Zhang was truly Director Zhang.
His nickname, “a powder keg without a fuse,” was certainly well-deserved.
“I say it’s her, so it’s her! Are you the director or am I?” Zhang Nanchuan stomped his feet in anger.
The man arguing with him was no less imposing. “I say no, and I mean no! Am I the producer or are you?”
Panting, the producer shook a data card with a shua shua sound, like an octopus being fried in a wok. “Look at this photo, huh? Heavy makeup! Her only acting experience was playing Nezha when she was six! She can play Jiang Wenmou?!”
“She can!” Zhang Nanchuan’s eyes widened. “I interviewed her myself!”
“Where’s the data!”
That one sentence extinguished Zhang Nanchuan’s fire. Unwilling to admit he’d lost the argument, he could only glare angrily.
The two were at a stalemate once again. Rong Guang looked at their sweat-soaked shirts and couldn’t help but grimace.
Seeing that no one had noticed her, Rong Guang cautiously scanned the corners, trying to find any trace of Chacha in the not-so-large room.
To her slight disappointment, there was no one in the room, but there was a small partitioned area inside. She didn’t know what it was for.
“Alright, stop arguing.” Finally, Li Yan put down her small folding fan, rose gracefully, and said, “Lao Sun, you too, getting so heated in the middle of summer. So many of us have seen that young lady with our own eyes; she’s definitely up to par. With that easily swayed mind of yours, I told you long ago not to read those gossip rags, but you just had to look…”
Sun Yuzhi hadn’t even caught his breath before Li Yan’s words choked him up, leaving him speechless. He just stood there, starting to glare as well.
Neither of them would yield to the other, and neither was willing to admit defeat.
After a long moment, under Rong Guang’s astonished gaze, the woman who had opened the door for her slowly took off her high heels and then slammed them against the door with two loud thuds!
The room instantly fell silent.
Rong Guang stood innocently at the door, face to face with the dozen or so people in the room.
“What a coincidence.” When Zhang Nanchuan saw it was Rong Guang, his eyes lit up with a shua. He said impatiently, “The person I was talking about is here! I’m telling you, you bastard Sun, even if the Jade Emperor himself came today, Rong Guang can still… be worthy of playing Jiang Wenmou!”
Hearing the character’s name again, Rong Guang took a step forward and smiled. “Hello, Director. I came to ask you, was there… a mistake regarding my role in the script?”
Chacha quietly pulled the door open a crack.
Ye Zi was behind her, the two little girls acting furtively.
Chacha observed for a moment and realized it wasn’t the best time to go out. She made a swift decision, “Let’s just stay here.”
“Mmm.” Ye Zi nodded. “I think so too.”
“But outside…” Chacha’s eyes started to turn into mosquito coils as she said weakly, “there are so many Teachers.”
“Are you afraid of teachers?” Ye Zi squatted down and whispered conspiratorially next to Chacha.
“I am.” Chacha pursed her lips, a little unhappy.
Ye Zi tilted her head to look at her, reached out an arm to give Chacha a hug, and whispered in her ear, “You don’t have to be afraid. In a place like a film set, the director, the producer, the screenwriters, they’re all called Teacher. Even the extras who have been around for a long time are called Teacher.”
Chacha’s eyes widened in surprise.
Ye Zi pointed to herself. “Even me, when they see me, they have to call me Teacher Xiao Ye.”
Chacha paused. “Can I be a Teacher too?”
“Of course,” Ye Zi chuckled. “From now on, we’ll call you Teacher Chacha.”
Chacha narrowed her eyes, made a checkmark gesture with her hand, and began to act profound.
The argument outside finally had a moment’s respite with Rong Guang’s arrival.
Rong Guang was also given a seat, and she managed to maintain her composure under the scrutinizing gazes of a dozen or so well-known figures.
Sun Yuzhi’s gaze shifted between Rong Guang’s face and the paper several times before he finally asked, “Did you have work done on your face?”
Rong Guang paused. “…No, Teacher Sun, I’ve just grown up. The file you’re looking at has a stage photo of me from three years ago.”
Sun Yuzhi looked conflicted, unable to tell how old the face under all that heavy makeup was.
He cursed under his breath and asked in a low voice, “Who prepared this file?”
“Jiang Yuan.” Someone on the side sensed something was wrong. Connecting it to the reason Sun Yuzhi and Zhang Nanchuan were arguing earlier, he realized what was going on and said with some surprise, “Jiang Yuan, I remember…”
Sun Yuzhi shot him a cold glance.
The speaker, knowing he had misspoken, said, “I’ll go ask her.”
The room wasn’t large, so Rong Guang heard everything clearly.
The surname Jiang wasn’t rare, but it wasn’t common either. She didn’t dwell on it, waiting for the crew’s final verdict on her role.
She had also discovered a month ago that her script listed two roles for her: the maidservant Wen Mou, and the Eldest Princess’s brilliant strategist, Jiang Wenmou.
Regarding the decision about Rong Guang, some were in support, some were opposed, and some were neutral.
After all, this character was too special, and her two deaths had an enormous impact on the female lead’s life and subsequent path.
Because the Eldest Princess, she liked women.
That was why she could command a large army without arousing the emperor’s suspicion.
And for someone in the Eldest Princess’s position, only the best of the best could catch her eye.
After all, she was the dynasty’s only Eldest Princess, and also the sole commander of the three armies.
For this reason, the casting this time was extremely strict. Not only did the actress have to be beautiful, but she also needed acting skills and martial arts ability, because Zhang Nanchuan despised the culture of using stunt doubles.
There were many who were good-looking and could act.
But it was hard to find anyone in the entire industry with a real foundation in martial arts.
Rong Guang fit the criteria, but her acting… the sample footage was conveniently corrupted. Only Rong Guang’s segment was completely unwatchable. No matter what Zhang Nanchuan said, as long as Sun Yuzhi didn’t relent, it was no use.
The door was knocked on once more.
Everyone, including Rong Guang, turned to look.
“Looks like I’ve come at the right time.” Chu Feiliang smiled at the doorway, already accustomed to such scenes. She made way for the people behind her and said, “I ordered some fruit. Let’s eat and talk.”
From the moment Chu Feiliang entered, Rong Guang’s entire body went ramrod straight, sitting bolt upright in her chair.
Chu Feiliang only patted her on the head before taking a seat, waiting for the frozen atmosphere to thaw.
Rong Guang felt a tingling numbness spread from the spot where Chu Feiliang had patted her, making her blush and feel a little breathless.
Before long, with the help of the food, everyone started discussing again with renewed chatter.
At this moment, Chu Feiliang propped her chin on her hand and said thoughtfully, “Speaking of which, you could say I’m the one who vouched for Rong Guang to get in.”
Rong Guang was nibbling on a strawberry. Hearing this, she instantly raised her head and quickly licked her lips clean.
Chu Feiliang said, “Since the file is lost, let’s just give her an on-the-spot prompt. It’s simple and quick. We’ll know right away if her acting is up to par, won’t we?”
“That could work.” Zhang Nanchuan frowned, unable to think of a better solution.
There was nothing wrong with a random prompt, but it would be a greater test of an actor’s improvisation and overall skill.
“Then let me set the prompt.” Chu Feiliang smiled, thought for a moment, and took a pen to write a few words on a nearby piece of paper.
Two people.
Telephone.
Rong Guang stared at the paper, stunned. This prompt wasn’t simple; in fact, you could say it was very difficult.
Chu Feiliang paused, frowning slightly, then immediately said, “Don’t be nervous. Think about life.”
Rong Guang’s eyes curved, and she smiled again.
How many times had Chu Feiliang told her “don’t be nervous” now?
