After the auditions ended, Zhou Sheng and his colleagues finalized the casting list. The two lead actors had been decided long ago, and since they were only selecting supporting roles today, the process wasn’t difficult. The only sticking point was Yun Ni.
“Her acting is definitely up to par, but this role…” Deputy Director Zhai Xiejin sighed. “After all, Vice President Lin arranged for someone to take it. It’s hard to refuse.”
The Vice President, Lin Xing, was Lin Zijin’s uncle. He was a notorious womanizer who constantly swapped out his female companions and frequently threw them into film crews for minor supporting roles just to give them some exposure.
Zhou Sheng knew it was a difficult situation, but he wasn’t willing to let it go. After a moment of thought, he picked up the script.
Zhai Xiejin was startled and looked up at him. “Director Zhou?”
“I’m going to see President Lin.” Zhou Sheng grabbed the documents. “You notify the others first, but wait to release the official casting table.”
“Director Zhou…” Zhai Xiejin wanted to advise against it, but Zhou Sheng had already made up his mind. He clutched the files and walked away without looking back.
When he arrived, Lin Zijin had just finished a complex document. She stood before the transparent floor-to-ceiling window, stretching her lithe body. Her hands balled into fists; she executed a side kick with her left leg, followed by a left upward swing of her arm upon landing, transitioning seamlessly into a right hook. Her movements were clean, crisp, rapid, and powerful.
A portion of the office door was glass, so Zhou Sheng naturally saw the scene inside. His raised hand froze in mid-air from shock. He wasn’t a professional martial artist, but he had learned a few moves from martial arts instructors while filming action movies. He felt that Lin Zijin’s movements were even cleaner and sharper than those of the teachers.
He had heard many labels for Lin Zijin: a “strong woman” with an excellent eye for scripts, a “great beauty” with a stunning figure and face… but he never knew she could fight, let alone that she was a martial arts expert.
Lin Zijin finished her set of grappling moves before stopping. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the head peeking from behind the door. She tilted an eyebrow. “Uncle Zhou, come in.” As she spoke, she returned to her office chair.
Zhou Sheng snapped out of it, knocked on the door, and entered. “Hello, President Lin.”
Lin Zijin didn’t like wasting words and asked directly for his purpose. Zhou Sheng didn’t mention Yun Ni by name initially; he simply handed over the casting sheet. “Among the actresses who came to audition, there is one with excellent acting skills, but the role she auditioned for has already been claimed by Vice President Lin.”
“My second uncle?” Lin Zijin put down the documents, crossing her hands on the desk. “He’s stuffing people into your crew again?”
Zhou Sheng was on good terms with her father and knew her second uncle well; she called him “Uncle Zhou” out of respect. However, as the saying goes, people often exploit those they know best. Lin Xing frequently dumped the starlets he was pursuing into Zhou Sheng’s crews. Zhou Sheng was a perfectionist with high standards for his scripts, naturally wanting to reject those “vases” (pretty faces without talent). Consequently, every time a new production began, the two would end up bringing their dispute to Lin Zijin.
Truthfully, though, this was the first time Zhou Sheng had come to her specifically to plead for a specific talent.
Zhou Sheng nodded. “President Lin, we agreed before that even if Vice President Lin throws someone in, they should only be unimportant extras. But this role is a fairly significant supporting character. I wouldn’t mind if the person he sent was a talented newcomer, but her acting is… less than satisfactory.”
Lin Zijin looked up. “You think that highly of the other person?”
Zhou Sheng nodded.
Lin Zijin took the casting sheet and scanned it. “How many people did my second uncle dump in this time?”
“Two,” Zhou Sheng replied. “The other is for the role of Princess Dong’er. Her acting is acceptable; I can live with it.”
“Between the one you like and this Princess Dong’er, who do you have more faith in?”
“Eh?”
Lin Zijin had reached a decision and closed the folder. “In that case, give the role of Princess Dong’er to the person you think highly of.”
Zhou Sheng’s brain couldn’t quite keep up.
“My second uncle has been getting increasingly out of line lately. My grandfather and father said we shouldn’t indulge him anymore,” Lin Zijin said calmly. “Especially his messy relationships with women—that needs to change.”
So she’s just stripping the role? Making the Vice President lose face and credibility? Zhou Sheng hadn’t expected Lin Zijin to be so ruthless. “Then the remaining one…”
“When you hit someone with a stick, you have to give them a piece of candy.” Lin Zijin looked up. “Is this acceptable?”
Zhou Sheng hadn’t come purely out of appreciation for talent; more importantly, he wanted to spite Lin Xing so that the man would stop treating his film sets like a trash heap for talentless “vases.” This result was much better than he had imagined. He nodded vigorously.
As Zhou Sheng was about to leave, Lin Zijin remembered something and stopped him. “I forgot to ask, Uncle Zhou. Which actress were you supporting?”
Zhou Sheng: “Yun Ni.”
Lin Zijin’s eyebrows twitched. She suspected she had misheard. Seeing her silence, Zhou Sheng—worried she didn’t know her—explained: “She’s been in a few dramas. Her acting was poor back then, but she must have trained very hard in private. Her skills have improved drastically; she’s no worse than any of the popular starlets.”
Lin Zijin trusted Zhou Sheng’s judgment, but what he was saying was the complete opposite of what she knew. Even a month ago, a gossip magazine had been mockingly hinting that a certain “Actress Y” had started as a female lead only to end up as a background extra, claiming her over-the-top, “eye-bulging” acting had reached “perfection.”
In just one month, her acting had improved enough to earn Zhou Sheng’s praise?
Lin Zijin didn’t believe it for a second.
The bathroom was small—not even as large as one of her old bathing pools. Yun Ni frowned, but was soon fascinated by the novelty of the showerhead and other gadgets.
She emerged from the bathroom half an hour later. She instinctively went to the fridge for food, only to find it completely empty. She then remembered that the original owner hadn’t left the house for days while studying the script and had finished all the food.
Looks like I’ll have to buy some supplies later, Yun Ni sighed. She kept opening and closing the fridge door, trying to figure out how it stayed shut without a latch or bolt.
Knock, knock, knock—
A knock sounded at the door. Yun Ni quickly retracted her hand from the fridge and went to open it. Standing there was a woman in her early forties with a somewhat plump figure. Yun Ni didn’t pay much attention to her face, focusing instead on her curly, frizzy hair. According to the original owner’s memory, this was called a “ramen perm.”
The woman didn’t notice her strange gaze. “Miss Yun, it’s almost the end of the month. When are you going to pay the rent? You’re several days late. I messaged you on WeChat and you didn’t reply, so I had to come in person. If this continues, I can’t rent this place to you anymore.”
Searching her memories, Yun Ni realized this woman was the landlord. This apartment didn’t belong to the original owner; she had to pay a monthly fee to live here. Noticing the landlord’s displeasure, she apologized quickly: “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy the last few days and didn’t have time to check my messages.”
The landlord scoffed. “Miss Yun, do you think I believe that? What young girl doesn’t have her phone glued to her hand every day?”
Yun Ni wasn’t lying. The original owner had been so focused on the script that she had cut off almost all contact with the outside world. Since the woman didn’t believe her, she had no choice. “Why don’t you come in for a moment? I’ll get the money now.”
The landlord waved her off. “I won’t come in. I’ve sent you the calculated utility bill as well. Don’t forget it.”
With the previous taxi driver’s “lesson” in mind combined with her memories, Yun Ni acted quickly. In less than a minute, she had completed the transfer. Having received the rent, the landlord gave a few more warnings about not being late again and left.
Yun Ni closed the door and checked the SMS notification on her phone. Her balance was less than 500 yuan. By her calculations, that was roughly equivalent to one tael of silver.
Poor. Truly poor.
Yun Ni put away her phone, realizing that earning money had to be put at the top of her agenda. The maid role was likely gone, so she had to find other ways—perhaps continuing as an extra. But her memories told her that extras didn’t earn much; it was barely enough to eat, let alone pay rent. That was why the original owner’s savings had dwindled to almost nothing.
But aside from acting, she didn’t know much about other modern professions.
Vibrate, vibrate—
Yun Ni looked up to see her phone vibrating. It was an unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Miss Yun, this is Zhou Sheng.”
Yun Ni sat up straight. “Director Zhou, why are you calling?”
She knew she would be rejected, but she hadn’t expected Zhou Sheng to call her personally.
“I just wanted to notify you that you might not be quite suitable for this role.”
Yun Ni had guessed as much, so she wasn’t disappointed. Her expression didn’t change much. However, she still had to put on a show for others. She let out a sigh of regret. “I understand. Thank you for calling, Director Zhou. I have something to attend to here, so I’ll hang up now.”
She ended the call. To her, this was just a minor interlude. She didn’t dwell on the sadness and went back to brainstorming ways to make money. Looking at a ballpoint pen—so different from a brush—she had a flash of inspiration.
I could sell calligraphy!
Her mother had been strict with her since childhood. Because the late Emperor loved calligraphy and paintings, he had hired many famous masters to tutor her. After over a decade of practice, her handwriting had become a unique style—elegant yet resolute. She had been praised by her teachers and the Emperor alike; her copybooks were once worth ten thousand gold pieces. While her status played a part in that, it proved her skill was genuine.
If the calligraphy didn’t sell, she was also skilled in landscape painting. Or, she could busk in the streets. Whether it was the erhu, the pipa, the guqin, or the konghou—she knew a bit of everything. She just didn’t know where to find the instruments.
Yun Ni was not a pedantic person. Her mind began to open up to countless ways of making money. As she was considering where to set up a stall, her phone vibrated again.
It was Zhou Sheng again.
“Miss Yun, I hadn’t finished my sentence,” Zhou Sheng’s helpless voice came through the phone.
Yun Ni: “What?”
“I asked President Lin, and she said we should simply give the role of Princess Dong’er to you. I wanted to know what you think?”
President Lin?
Yun Ni immediately thought of the woman who had snubbed her in the elevator. She quickly accepted. In the original owner’s memory, aside from being a merchant, nothing made money as easily as acting. The original owner had only chosen the maid role out of desperation; if she could play a better role, it was obviously for the best.
On the other end, Zhou Sheng offered a few words of congratulation before hanging up. He didn’t tell Yun Ni about the behind-the-scenes drama.
Yun Ni stared at her phone. Beyond her joy, she felt a sense of disbelief. Lin Zijin told me not to do anything pointless and never appear before her again… so why did she take the initiative to give me a better role?
Could it be… that she’s a ‘tsundere’ who says one thing but means another?
Yun Ni couldn’t figure it out. Just as she put her phone down, it vibrated again. It wasn’t Zhou Sheng this time; it was Zhang Lingyu. She didn’t hang up and answered directly.
As soon as the call connected, Zhang Lingyu’s loud voice blasted out: “Yun Ni! You had the nerve to push me, so why did you run? Why did you run?!”
Yun Ni leaned back on the sofa. “I didn’t run.” Worried the other woman wouldn’t understand, she added: “I walked away slowly on my own two legs.”
On the other end, Zhang Lingyu was so enraged by those casual words that her face distorted. Just as she was about to curse, she heard Yun Ni say: “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.”
“Don’t hang up! I have serious business with you.”
“What is it?”
“I see that everyone who auditioned for Dreaming of Autumn’s Peak has received news. Have you heard back yet?”
Yun Ni raised an eyebrow. “I just received a call.”
“Did they reject you?”
Just as Yun Ni was about to deny it, Zhang Lingyu’s tone shifted. “I heard the person playing that role is one of Vice President Lin’s people. It’s normal for someone like you, with no connections or background, to be rejected.”
Yun Ni narrowed her eyes but didn’t respond. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait a moment.” On the other end, Zhang Lingyu cursed internally but forced a smile into her voice. “I have a boss here who saw your photo and wants to have dinner with you. What do you think? This boss has invested in many dramas and movies. Other female stars beg to eat with him and don’t always get the—beep, beep, beep—”
Zhang Lingyu froze. She looked at her phone; the call had been cut. She was so angry she wanted to scream.
Yun Ni had already figured out her intention and didn’t want to waste any more time. First, the manager gives her the “opportunity” to audition, then waits for her to fail so she sees the benefits of having a “powerful thigh” to cling to, then sets her up with some “big investor.”
One had to admit the manager had planned it well. Unfortunately, Yun Ni wasn’t that kind of person. Zhang Lingyu tried calling several more times, but Yun Ni didn’t answer. Eventually, the manager sent a barrage of text messages, using every threat and inducement she could think of, but Yun Ni didn’t take them to heart.
However, from this reaction, she realized that Zhang Lingyu apparently had no idea that she hadn’t just lost the maid role—she had landed the much more significant role of the second female lead.
She searched online and found that the official casting list hadn’t been released yet; only the two leads had been confirmed. She raised an eyebrow.
I wonder what Zhang Lingyu’s reaction will be when the casting table comes out and she sees my name as the actress for Princess Dong’er? Yun Ni thought with a touch of wicked amusement.