After hearing the director tell them to consciously start finding their positions, several of the special guest actors who hadn’t gone on stage yet exchanged glances.
“What’s Rong Guang’s background?” one of them asked in a low voice.
They all shook their heads, unsure.
One of them took out her phone and started searching on Baidu, but the results left them all a bit puzzled. “Someone from a girl group… also understands positioning for acting? Don’t tell me it was just a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse?”
They looked at each other, unable to tell for a moment whether they were more envious or jealous.
Their discussion naturally drifted into Zhang Nanchuan’s ears.
However, he didn’t see it that way.
He had seen stage performances with singing and dancing before. The movements, timing, and positions were all planned out in advance, with markers on the floor.
But acting was different.
In acting, positioning was, for the most part, absolutely dependent on the actor’s on-the-spot improvisation. During a long take of over a minute, a person couldn’t just stand still; they had to constantly coordinate with the actor who was the main focus of the scene.
Therefore, under these circumstances, positioning, micro-expressions, and even small movements that the editor might not capture all depended on one’s own ability to constantly adjust.
And yet, Rong Guang had done it.
Not only had she done it, but she had also done it remarkably well.
In the shot, although Rong Guang’s presence surpassed that of the supporting actors, she didn’t steal the protagonist’s thunder, still maintaining her identity as a handmaiden.
There was only one prop on the stage, a small, rectangular, assembled table.
There was nothing on it; it was just a prop for the supporting actor playing the Eldest Princess.
Rong Guang was very clever. She knew she was playing a young handmaiden and that the character couldn’t be too ostentatious. To hide her own overly outstanding looks and temperament, she simply found a potted plant and placed it beside her, partially concealing her figure.
Then, she reined in the light in her eyes and stood with her head bowed, positioned diagonally behind and to the side.
This was a performance without lines, without sound.
After the set was cleared, the only thing Rong Guang could hear was the sound of the Eldest Princess writing.
Only then did Zhang Nanchuan realize that Rong Guang’s ears were actually moving, constantly listening to the sounds around her.
This realization made him narrow his eyes, his fountain pen tightening in his grip unconsciously.
In the next moment, a sudden change occurred.
The supporting actor playing the assassin slid down from the rafters, a long knife in hand. Every move carried a vicious killing intent, the tip of the blade aimed straight at the Eldest Princess behind the desk.
Rong Guang was not to be outdone. She drew a short dagger from her waist and exchanged several blows with the assassin. Her moves were proficient, flowing like water without the slightest hesitation.
But gradually, she began to be overpowered, forced to retreat again and again.
At that moment, the Eldest Princess drew a longsword from under the table. With her shoulder touching Rong Guang’s, they advanced and retreated in unison, joining forces to push the assassin back.
The assassin was captured and began to exit the stage.
Rong Guang stood her ground, holding the dagger and watching the assassin with cold eyes. Only when the assassin was pinned down by four or five people, with no room left to struggle, did she sheathe her dagger and turn to return to her original position.
Just as everyone thought the assassination attempt was over, and the Eldest Princess was re-sheathing her sword, Rong Guang suddenly heard something.
Without even enough time to draw her dagger to block, she flashed in front of the Eldest Princess and let out a muffled grunt.
It was the assassin’s final counterattack before death, flinging the long knife straight out!
With no time to cry out in pain, Rong Guang gritted her teeth, drew the dagger from her waist, and sent it flying toward the back of the assassin’s heart as he escaped from the grasp of the attendants.
A direct hit. Rong Guang finally fell to one knee, and without being able to say another word, she closed her eyes.
After a moment of silence, Zhang Nanchuan’s mouth hung open, unable to utter a word for a long time. Rong Guang had just stuck a twig in her lower back and used it as a dagger.
Later, when she threw the dagger at the assassin, she was aiming in his direction—because the supporting actor was none other than Li Yan, who had been enjoying the show from the side!
So he was the first to bear the brunt, feeling Rong Guang’s killing intent more directly as she brandished the twig. For a moment, it even made him think that Rong Guang was facing him with the determination to kill!
Rong Guang looked at the twig stuck perfectly in Zhang Nanchuan’s hair. Even though she had weathered many storms, she couldn’t help but feel the corner of her mouth twitch at the sight.
Li Yan must have done that on purpose, right?
Of all the places to run, she just had to run toward where Zhang Nanchuan was!
However, before she could say anything, Zhang Nanchuan had already violently yanked the twig from his hair, his face glowing as he said, “Rong Guang? Have you ever acted in anything before?”
Rong Guang paused, then immediately followed his lead and replied with a smile, “I was in one movie when I was a child, just as I started learning martial arts. It was a supporting role.”
“Only that one?” Zhang Nanchuan pressed, unwilling to give up.
Rong Guang nodded. “Yes.”
Zhang Nanchuan sighed and sat back down. Looking at Rong Guang’s resume, he simply couldn’t contain the excited expression on his face.
“You have a lot of your own ideas,” he said. “The existence of that handmaiden behind the Eldest Princess is the finishing touch for the entire drama. Her identity is unusual, different from that of an ordinary maid.”
Ignoring the clamor in the room, Zhang Nanchuan said with a smile, “This was also a difficult problem that our production team unanimously decided to pose. Because her role is so significant, second only to the Eldest Princess played by Xiao Chu, we provided a lot of distracting information to see who could better interpret this character.”
As soon as these words were spoken, the entire room erupted in even greater surprise.
Jiang Ruyi, in particular, couldn’t hide her excitement and agitation!
Without a second thought, she stood up and stood shoulder to shoulder with Rong Guang, waiting for the results to be announced.
Although Zhang Nanchuan’s words were mostly praise for Rong Guang, the audience had also cheered loudly after her own performance!
Many people praised her for acting so well, just like a scene from an edited TV drama. Wasn’t that a testament to her skill!
Seeing Jiang Ruyi suddenly pop up, Zhang Nanchuan was taken aback for a moment. Only then did he remember that he seemed to have said something about having these two compete.
His eyes darted around. He glanced at Chu Feiliang, and an idea came to him. He cleared his throat, and the expression on his face grew solemn.
Rong Guang watched the change in Zhang Nanchuan’s expression, raised an eyebrow, and grew a little curious about what kind of mischief he was up to now.
Zhang Nanchuan’s face turned cold as he said sternly, “However.”
The originally noisy room fell silent again. Most people could see that Zhang Nanchuan seemed to be in a bad mood, and they were no longer sure about the seemingly settled outcome. They all began to discuss and place their bets on who the final winner would be.
Even Chu Feiliang, who was beside him, had lowered her head and was writing something on a piece of paper.
“Rong Guang, is it,” Zhang Nanchuan said with a half-smile. “How did you know that the handmaiden you just portrayed was the version we wanted, and not just your own clever idea?”
Rong Guang was stunned. So that was the question.
She found it both funny and exasperating. Zhang Nanchuan’s wicked habit of making things difficult really hadn’t changed.
She couldn’t help but glance at Chu Feiliang beside her, seeing that she kept her head down, seemingly lost in thought.
Rong Guang didn’t want her love interest to think she was a pushover during their first meeting. After a moment’s thought, she lifted her head, her eyes shining brightly, and said, “Today’s performance, of course, had a part that was my own clever interpretation.”
Rong Guang’s clear voice rang out in the room, and nearly everyone’s gaze turned to this extremely confident young woman who seemed to be glowing. “I’m not the scriptwriter, nor do I understand what a production with such a rich cultural foundation like 《The Eldest Princess》, or a brilliant director like you, truly wants to express. I have even less way of knowing the plot of 《The Eldest Princess》. But Director, even if it’s true that I was being clever on my own, since I came here to answer the question you posed, I can definitely do it, and I can handle it.”
“This performance,” Rong Guang paused, then glanced again at Chu Feiliang, who had, at some point, fixed her gaze on her. She couldn’t help but blush, and her voice softened slightly. “I think I handled it.”
Jiang Ruyi, however, curled her lip and couldn’t help but let out a cold snort.
Overestimating her own abilities.
Zhang Nanchuan and Chu Feiliang most disliked this type of overconfident and arrogant new-generation actor.
It seemed this performance was in the bag for her.
She just hadn’t expected there to be a surprise bonus.
A role second only to Chu Feiliang… wouldn’t that make her practically a main character?
If she could act alongside Chu Feiliang, she might be able to change her past reputation and advance further in the industry!
Thinking about the possible future results, Jiang Ruyi’s hands began to tremble with excitement!
But in the next second, Chu Feiliang smiled, tilted her chin up slightly, and under everyone’s gaze, slowly began to clap, her eyes fixed on Rong Guang from beginning to end.
It was self-evident who this applause was for.
One clap led to another. Li Yan, who was beside them, and the representative from the scriptwriting team, who hadn’t said much, also began to applaud.
Rong Guang had to use almost all her strength not to jump up from where she stood!
After the wave of applause subsided, Zhang Nanchuan clapped his hands with a loud laugh to conclude, then said, “Good, good, very good.”
After laughing for a while, Zhang Nanchuan calmed himself down, restlessly shifting his posture several times. Finally, with his face flushed with excitement, he said, “No wonder, no wonder Xiao Chu told me from the start that you were worthy of this role. Rong Guang, Rong Guang, not bad, not bad at all. You really didn’t disappoint us.”
Zhang Nanchuan turned the single sheet of paper over and over in his hands, looking at it as if a flower might bloom from it.
But Rong Guang couldn’t pay him any attention at all.
Her mind was filled with only one sentence: ‘No wonder, Xiao Chu said you were worthy of this role.’
Chu Feiliang said she was worthy.
Rong Guang felt her mind go ‘buzz.’ The frequency of her heartbeat instantly broke through her eardrums, pounding and surging in her head.
It was Chu Feiliang.
It was Chu Feiliang who said she was worthy!
