On the day of the audition, Xie Guan arrived at the scene and took one look: great. Among the three people auditioning for He Qiao, he was the oldest. The other boys were so young and fresh-faced, while he, standing there, looked like an actor from the coaching staff next door who had wandered onto the wrong set.
Since he was already here, Xie Guan had to bite the bullet and go for it. When he went in, the assistant director's face darkened, but the round-faced, plump director, Pang Zhonghua, sitting in the middle, remained calm. He pulled a page of lines from the table and gave it to him: “Try this part.”
Xie Guan took the script, turned his back, and prepared for two minutes.
When he turned back around, his entire demeanor changed in an instant.
Xie Guan's shoulders were straight, his neck long, the corners of his mouth pulled tight. His chin was raised slightly—not so much that his nostrils faced the sky, but the angle from which he looked at people immediately became condescending. He wore a handsome, expressionless face, his eyelids lowered. With every gesture, his control over his body was extremely precise, invisibly exuding an aura of unruly, oppressive youthful vigor.
“I heard your master is Ye Sanbai?” he asked arrogantly, his tone a bit nonchalant, but his eyes were fixed on the director. “I am He Qiao, successor to the He Family of Hailing. I have long admired the great name of the Ye School of Wing Chun. I want to fight you.”
After being rejected by the protagonist, who pointed out that the coach forbids private brawls, his lips moved slightly as if he wanted to say something but held back. He shot a glance at the director and sneered coldly, “And here I thought a disciple of Ye Sanbai would be some incredible young prodigy. Seeing you today, you’re nothing special after all.”
He gave a perfunctory cupped-fist salute, the sarcasm blatant. “A reputation hard to live up to. I’ve seen it for myself.”
The essence of being “arrogant and prickly” lies in the “prickly” part. That sideways glance was full of killing intent, yet his eyes held a hidden, childlike reluctance to accept defeat. Especially the charm of him hesitating to speak and that lazy cupped-fist salute—it perfectly brought to life a martial arts-obsessed youth who was oblivious to social etiquette.
The director clapped for him a couple of times. “Not bad, that was a good performance. You captured the character’s personality very well.”
Xie Guan broke character, immediately retracting his sharp aura. He bowed politely to the group. "Thank you. Please excuse my humble performance."
The assistant director made a mark on Xie Guan's file and said, "The audition results will be sent to your agent in a few days. Thank you for your performance. Next."
Just as Xie Guan was about to leave, a reckless young man rushed in from outside, and they came face to face. There was a low threshold at the doorway, and the man, rushing in such a hurry, didn't watch his step. He inadvertently tripped, lost his balance, and plunged headfirst toward Xie Guan's chest.
Unable to dodge in time, Xie Guan reached out with lightning speed and grabbed the man's elbows. His arms were slender, but his grip was incredibly strong. Exerting force from his shoulders and back at the same time, he gave a gentle yet continuous push with both hands, straightening the man's stumbling body against his momentum and helping him stand firm. "Careful."
The reckless man's mouth and eyes both formed an “O” shape. Before he spoke, he sized Xie Guan up from head to toe as if observing a rare animal. “What was that just now? Do you practice martial arts?”
Xie Guan stepped aside, gesturing to indicate that the director was still in the room, and smiled gently. “It’s nothing, just a reflex.”
Not wanting to block the doorway, he was about to step out when the people in the room suddenly shouted in unison, “Wait!”
The director and the man exchanged a look. The man’s eyes crinkled as he gestured for the director to speak first.
Director Pang Zhonghua said, fumbling through the documents, “Young man, what was your name again... Oh, Xie Guan. Right, don’t leave yet. Wait a moment. Wait until the auditions for He Qiao are over, okay?”
Confused, Xie Guan held onto the door, hesitating. “Then... should I wait outside?”
“No need, you can sit right here,” Pang Zhonghua said, pulling out a chair from behind the long interview table for him. “You can also help me run lines with the actors.”
The assistant director silently handed over a thick stack of scripts.
And so, Xie Guan was baffled and inexplicably press-ganged into service. The reckless youth stood in the center of the room and said confidently, “Hello, Director. Hello, everyone. I’m Li Yan, here to audition for the role of ‘He Qiao’.”
No wonder Xie Guan found him familiar. Hulu TV had just finished airing a hit modern idol drama during its summer slot, in which Li Yan played a maverick designer. He was already handsome, and the character had a fashionable aura. After the show aired, fans praised his otherworldly good looks daily, and Li Yan rode the momentum to minor fame.
Xie Guan remembered that he had acted with Wang Ruolun before. He'd heard Li Yan was a graduate of a famous music conservatory abroad who had returned to China and debuted as a singer. After several years, no one was buying the "foreign high art" he was selling, so he indignantly switched to the acting industry.
Although Mr. Li Yan never managed to become a true artist, he had inherited all of an artist's bad habits, so netizens often cursed him for being pretentious and criticized his low EQ.
In terms of looks, Li Yan clearly had an advantage over Xie Guan. He was young and handsome, with an air more befitting a pampered, wealthy young master. When he opened his mouth to read the lines, his youthful voice was clear and melodious, his expression animated and spirited. Although his acting was still a bit green, the overall feel was right.
Xie Guan's performance was propped up purely by his acting skills; he personally had nothing in common with "He Qiao." But Li Yan didn't need to act much. The moment he stood there, his aura was a natural fit, and his own traits completely compensated for his deficiencies in acting.
The director whispered a few words to the assistant director, then turned to ask Xie Guan, "Xiao Xie, what do you think?"
Xie Guan's heart sank, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. He knew that the director was asking this because he was most likely inclined to choose Li Yan for the role of He Qiao.
"Very natural," he said. Though regretful, he could only speak the truth. "The actor's own temperament is a great fit for the character."
Pang Zhonghua nodded and laughed. "Exactly. Li Yan has that punchable-face quality, just like He Qiao."
Li Yan was a bit embarrassed by this comment and turned his face away with an awkward cough. Pang Zhonghua laughed heartily and said to the assistant director, "Then he's the one."
Li Yan was startled, a look of joy appearing in his eyes. But then he suddenly remembered something and immediately turned to look at Xie Guan.
Xie Guan smiled and mouthed to him, "Congratulations."
Pang Zhonghua took in the interaction between the two, satisfied. He said to Li Yan, "You can go back first. I'll call you all for a meeting to discuss the specific work arrangements once all the actors have been finalized."
Then he turned and called to Xie Guan, "Xiao Xie, stay for a moment. Come take a look at this character."
“So you originally went to audition for the fourth male lead, but the director cast you as the third male lead, and you even gained Li Yan's friendship on the side?” Wang Ruolun sighed. “Your luck... should I say it's good, or bad? Tsk, it's so hard to say.”
Xie Guan thought back on everything that had happened at the audition today and still found it quite unbelievable.
The role of He Qiao was given to Li Yan, and Xie Guan had thought his chance was gone. Who would have thought that Pang Zhonghua would turn around and have him audition for another role, the third male lead, Chen Duqiu.
According to the script, Chen Duqiu was the 22nd-generation successor of Chen-style Tai Chi. His personality, much like the martial art he practiced, was gentle and steady—soft on the outside but firm on the inside. He could even fight the overpowered protagonist to a standstill and was mainly responsible for smoothing things over and cleaning up messes in the drama.
This character was purely designed for the audience to swoon over. His intelligence and martial arts were both outstanding. He served as the leader of the North China team during the selection tournament and eventually became the captain of the Chinese national team, leading a group of young martial arts prodigies to conquer the stars and seas. On top of that, he had no romantic subplot—he couldn't be more of a "male god."
And that wasn't all. When he came out after settling things with the director, he found that Li Yan was actually waiting outside. Seeing him, Li Yan immediately rushed over, grabbed his hand, and shook it enthusiastically. “Bro, thanks for today! My name is Li Yan, I’m with Galaxy Times. From now on, we’re comrades in the same cast. Come on, I’ll treat you to a meal.”
Xie Guan never knew this person was so overly friendly. He was dragged downstairs to a tea restaurant for a meal and, for some inexplicable reason, became his "ride-or-die" best friend.
No wonder Li Yan didn't have many friends in the entertainment industry.
"What did Li Yan ever do to you?" Xie Guan said. "Did he eat your family's rice or something? Why are you so prejudiced against him?"
Wang Ruolun let out a "Yo," and said sourly, "Have you two known each other for more than 24 hours? You're already taking his side?"
"To be fair, if my elbow bent inwards, it would break," Xie Guan said, slowly turning a page of his script. "He's a bit stubborn, but his EQ isn't as low as they say online. You're a grown man, why get angry with a kid?"
Wang Ruolun felt like he'd been betrayed by his good brother on the battlefield and wanted to cough up blood.
“That Li Yan fellow is just asking for a beating. You’ll find out once you’ve been around him long enough,” Wang Ruolun said, flicking his cigarette butt into an ashtray with a smirk. “But I have a guess as to why he’s so keen on being your friend.”
"Hm?" Xie Guan's curiosity was piqued.
“Who’s the top dog at Galaxy Times? You still remember, old timer?” Wang Ruolun said. “I heard you beat Zhong Guanhua senseless on set. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, so of course Li Yan wants to win you over.”
Xie Guan: "Where did you hear this fake news? Who beat him up?!"
Wang Ruolun continued to add fuel to the fire. “Anyway, no matter who beat him, everyone’s thrilled that Zhong Guanhua got thrashed. And you also beat up Zhang Heshan, that part is true, right?” He concluded with deep emotion, “My friend, your fearsome reputation in the industry is now so renowned it makes people tremble at the mere mention of your name.”
Xie Guan was so wrongfully accused he was dumbstruck.
After Lin Yao heard the news, she also praised his good luck. Nowadays, public perception of idol actors’ professional abilities was more critical than complimentary, so gaining a director's appreciation would make his future path much smoother.
Xie Guan's auditions had never gone so smoothly before. Because his former company, Xinghui Entertainment, was on the decline, his roles were frequently snatched away. A director would praise his acting one moment, and the next, some other celebrity would be parachuted into the cast. After being led on so many times, he had grown used to putting in a lot of pointless effort—casting a wide net, only to end up with one or two small fish.
Now, with Xihua Entertainment backing him, he wouldn't necessarily be snatching roles from others, but at least he no longer had to worry about his confirmed roles being easily taken away.
Thinking of Xihua Entertainment, Xie Guan's thoughts inevitably drifted to Huo Mingjun.
Ever since he appeared, it seemed everything had started to go smoothly.
There were undoubtedly factors of human intervention, but it felt more like a superstitious belief in a turn of fortune. Huo Mingjun had helped him again and again—far too much. He was the very definition of a “fated benefactor.”
Xie Guan tossed and turned on the creaky old wooden bed like a pancake on a griddle. Finally, unable to stand the incessant creaking, he got up with a frustrated expression and started looking up recipes.
Before joining the cast, there was one very solemn and important thing he had to do—treat Huo Mingjun to a meal.
Xie Guan didn't dare to imagine what would happen if Huo Mingjun was dissatisfied with the meal. Chairman Huo would probably order the entire building to be demolished.
Director Pang had contacted professional martial artists to train the main actors. Since everyone was learning a different style, there were also specialized instructors to teach basic moves. At first, Xie Guan thought that with his smattering of martial arts experience, the training wouldn't be too difficult. But the Chen-style Tai Chi successor the director had found took one look at him and shook his head repeatedly, saying, "It's all fancy footwork. All show and no substance."
Xie Guan had no choice but to grit his teeth and follow him, starting from the horse stance to relearn the old and new fist forms of Tai Chi, push hands, and weapons. The old master was deeply versed in the philosophies of Laozi, Zhuangzi, and the I Ching. They practiced physical forms in the morning, and he lectured in the afternoon. Xie Guan hadn't taken an academic class in years, and having to rote-memorize principles like "Yang qi rising is yang, yang qi descending is yin," and "Hair is the extension of blood, blood is the sea of qi," was pure agony.
On the day they had arranged to have dinner, Huo Mingjun had his driver drop him off at the entrance to Xie Guan's residential complex and found the rest of the way himself using the address Xie Guan had sent. The roads in the complex were narrow and lined with illegally parked cars. It would have been easy for his Bentley to get scraped by an electric scooter if driven inside.
Huo Mingjun himself didn't mind, but he was afraid of frightening the scooter owners.
Xie Guan lived on the fourth floor, and the aroma of cooking could be smelled from the second floor.
Negotiations with the Longfeng Group were drawing to a close, and the Cuiping Mountain villa resort project was up for bidding. Huo Mingjun was juggling several large real estate projects at once, and whenever he got busy, he would lose his appetite and be unable to eat. Perhaps because he was finally able to relax, smelling the aroma wafting through the hallway, he felt as if his stomach had suddenly awakened.
Xie Guan, holding a spatula, hurried over to open the door for him, tossed out a "make yourself at home," and dashed back to the kitchen.
Huo Mingjun changed his shoes at the entrance and walked into the living room with practiced ease. The man seemed to carry a "leisurely stroll in the courtyard" kind of calm wherever he went, completely lacking the reserve of a first-time guest.
The one-bedroom, one-living-room apartment was small with low ceilings. For a man of Huo Mingjun's 1.87-meter height, standing in it felt oppressive. The room was very tidy, however. Xie Guan didn't seem to have anything to hide; the bedroom door was wide open, leaving the bed and furnishings inside in plain view.
Huo Mingjun calmly sat down on the single sofa. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a brown bottle and some medicinal patches in the cabinet under the television. He got up to take a look and found that it was a newly opened bottle of medicinal liquor and some analgesic plasters for bruises.
His expression immediately darkened. He put the items back where he found them and turned to go to the kitchen.
I'm Windwalker, your friendly neighborhood translator who loves nothing more than getting lost in a good book. When I'm not translating, you might find me hiking through nature or curled up with my cat. I hope my translations bring as much joy to you as they do to me!
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