During casting, rehearsing scenes with other actors is a basic responsibility. Of course, given Zhuang Qin’s current status, if he didn’t want to participate, no one would blame him for being difficult.
But there was no way he would refuse.
Xiao Lian served breakfast at the table, overhearing Zhuang Ge on the phone with the director.
“Director Guo, how did you manage to convince him last night?” Zhuang Qin stirred his oatmeal with a spoon, his Bluetooth headset clipped to his ear.
“Don’t even mention it, it took a lot of effort, and in the end…”
In the end, Guo had to bring up Zhuang Qin’s name, telling Li Mu, “The other male lead is a huge fan of yours. He insisted it has to be you!”
Li Mu didn’t believe him, so Guo Baozhen immediately sent a screenshot of his chat with Zhuang Qin from the night before.
The man on the other end of the phone stayed silent for a long while, then finally said, “I’ll think about it.”
Seeing there was a chance, Guo pushed harder, exaggerating even more: “Zhuang Laoshi said if you don’t take the role, he’ll quit!”
Even the screen test was Guo’s idea, really bringing his dignity as a director down to the lowest point: “If you have any thoughts on the script, we can discuss them during the script reading phase before shooting starts.”
Though Guo Baozhen’s voice was calm, a skill he had honed as a journalist, his fast-talking made him come off as noisy, which gave Li Mu a headache. For some reason, Li Mu eventually agreed to the screen test.
Of course, Guo wouldn’t tell Zhuang Qin all this, just crediting his own persuasive skills for convincing Li Mu.
As Zhuang Qin ate his bland, flavorless chicken breast, he asked, “Which scene are we testing?”
“That hasn’t been decided yet. Zhuang Laoshi, when will you have time?”
“I definitely can’t make it today. I have an awards ceremony to attend tonight.” Zhuang Qin was worried that Li Mu might back out. If that happened, the film might not achieve the same level of success as in his previous life.
He hesitated for only a few seconds before saying, “Depending on when the recording wraps up tonight, I can come over if it’s not too late.”
“Sounds good!”
After hanging up, Xiao Lian curiously asked, “Zhuang Ge, are you rehearsing with an actor tonight?”
“Yes.”
“For that LGBTQ script? Who’s your scene partner?”
“Someone outside the industry.”
“Oh, a non-professional.” Xiao Lian quietly thought to himself that this film crew seemed really unreliable, casting a non-professional to act alongside Zhuang Ge. But Zhuang Ge was too stubborn to listen to anyone’s advice and insisted on taking this role.
Switching topics, Xiao Lian said, “The suit was delivered to the styling salon this morning. It’s a Prada three-piece from the runway, with a black velvet jacket. The stylist suggested pairing it with silver cufflinks.”
After breakfast, Zhuang Qin went upstairs to his walk-in closet to pick out accessories.
His loft spanned two floors, with a total of more than 140 square meters. The upstairs was his space, with a bedroom, a walk-in closet, and a small empty stage he used for practicing his performances.
Although he was a celebrity, his earnings were limited. For red carpet events and formal occasions, he usually had to borrow outfits. His personal wardrobe was mostly clean and simple, brands he had started buying over the past year based on Su Wen’s suggestions. His older clothes, aside from the costumes his Shiniang had made for him, were all packed away in boxes.
His accessories collection was small too—just two watches. One cost 400,000 yuan, the other 200,000.
When he first signed with the company, Su Wen had told him, “You can wear Uniqlo, but you can’t wear DW watches. A watch represents your status, and it’s fine if it shows up repeatedly in photos. But since it’s hard to borrow an expensive one, buy two to keep on hand in case you need them.”
He grabbed one of his watches, a pair of cufflinks, and casually stuffed them into his jacket pocket before putting on a mask and heading downstairs with Xiao Lian.
“Why the change of car today?” the driver asked as Zhuang Qin got into the van, noticing that it seemed like the older one they used before.
“I’m not sure…” Xiao Lian replied vaguely. “Maybe someone borrowed it.”
The company had bought several luxury vans, and the newest, top-of-the-line GMC was usually reserved for Zhuang Qin. Today, not only did they not get that car, but they also didn’t have any bodyguards. It looked like Zhuang Ge had really annoyed the big boss.
“Oh.” Zhuang Qin didn’t mind, pulling out the script to continue reading.
For an actor, the greatest fortune was landing a good script, working with a good director, and acting alongside talented co-stars.
But such perfect situations were rare and often hard to come by.
The script in his hands was one of those rare opportunities.
The most natural and brilliant performances often came from tapping into one’s subconscious through inspiration, rather than just memorizing lines and delivering them. But the human mind is rarely able to access the subconscious directly. Zhuang Qin had been tirelessly studying and seemed to have touched on a small part of that realm.
The red notebook beside him contained the backstory he had written for the character.
In another black notebook, he wrote a journal from the perspective of “An Ke,” the character he was playing. This method, while crude and simple, was very effective. He spent hours each day imagining what happened that day, fully immersing himself in the emotions of the character, recording those “events” in the journal.
By using this technique to guide himself into his subconscious, Zhuang Qin often blurred the lines between himself and his character, which only deepened his love for acting.
Forty minutes later, the car arrived at the styling salon.
This was a salon the company had reserved for its artists all year round. Zhuang Qin didn’t like having stylists come to his home, so he usually came here himself.
As he got out of the car, he spotted the new GMC van he often used parked outside the salon.
Xiao Lian saw it too and immediately held his breath, not daring to make a sound.
Zhuang Qin merely glanced at it and said nothing. “Let’s go.”
He walked into the styling salon, where the familiar stylist greeted him. “Teacher Zhuang, would you like to change into your outfit first or get styled first?”
“I’ll style first.” The borrowed clothes were precious, and sitting in them could wrinkle them or accidentally get makeup on them.
Zhuang Qin sat down but soon heard a loud crash from the room behind him, like a bunch of cosmetics being thrown to the ground.
Faintly, he could hear someone cursing, but the words weren’t clear.
Zhuang Qin glanced over.
“Close your eyes,” the stylist said as he sprayed mist on Zhuang Qin’s face, speaking softly. “It’s Zheng Fengbai in there.”
So, it wasn’t surprising. Zheng Fengbai had a great public image but a terrible temper in private. Zhuang Qin had been his body double for a while and was very familiar with his personality.
Xiao Lian went in to iron Zhuang Qin’s suit, while the stylist applied a primer to Zhuang Qin’s face, then found the palest foundation shade and lightly applied it.
The makeup process for male and female stars differed greatly, but for good skin, the less makeup, the better.
With his eyes closed, Zhuang Qin let the stylist work on his face, his thoughts already drifting back to the script.
“Bang!”
Another loud crash came from the back room, as if a chair had been kicked against the wall. The stylist’s hand shook, and the eyebrow pencil drew a crooked line, which she hurriedly fixed with a clean cotton swab.
“You’ll pay for this! Do you think you can afford it? I have to attend an event this afternoon, and now you’ve ruined my outfit!” Zheng Fengbai shouted angrily, his face twisted in frustration. “Do you know how much trouble this is? I’ll have to call and get a replacement! Damn it!”
The stylist attending to him apologized profusely, saying she hadn’t meant to get glitter on his outfit.
Zhuang Qin couldn’t help but open his eyes and glance over.
“Fengbai Ge,” he called out.
Zheng Fengbai finally noticed him, frowning. “You’re here too?”
Zhuang Qin nodded. Zheng Fengbai stopped berating the makeup artist and sat down next to Zhuang Qin. “I heard you took on a movie recently? Some kind of art film, and it’s an LGBTQ movie? Zhuang Qin, you’ve got guts.”
“Not as gutsy as you, Fengbai Ge.”
Zheng Fengbai thought about Ding Dong Feng. That script had originally cast Zhuang Qin as the lead, but for some reason, Zhuang Qin had been crazy enough to turn it down.
The opportunity had fallen to him since they had similar builds and acting styles.
His expression darkened, thinking Zhuang Qin was mocking him for picking up the “trash” he had thrown away.
Back then, Zhuang Qin had been his stunt double on another film, but now Zhuang Qin was more popular than him. Over the past year, Zhuang Qin’s traffic had completely overshadowed his, making him even more irritable.
“Oh, I also heard you’ve been losing resources recently? Your endorsements have been pulled?”
Zhuang Qin smiled. “Where did you hear that from, Fengbai Ge? Well, there’s some truth to it.”
Zheng Fengbai: “…”
Zheng had been prepared for Zhuang Qin to deny it so he could humiliate him, but now he didn’t know what to say.
The entire company had been gossiping that Zhuang Qin had offended the higher-ups and had all his resources taken away. The jobs he had now were ones arranged last year.
Zhuang Qin looked at his reflection in the mirror, glancing at this senior of his. He couldn’t help but give him a friendly reminder, “Fengbai Ge, after Ding Dong Feng starts shooting, be careful with the action scenes. Maybe don’t use a stunt double.”
Zheng Fengbai hadn’t reacted yet, but his assistant’s face immediately darkened, thinking Zhuang Qin was trying to insult their artist.
Two years ago, Zhuang Qin had been nothing more than a body double. He hadn’t even been an adult yet, working as a stuntman in various productions. He and Zheng Fengbai had similar heights and builds, and Zhuang Qin could perform all sorts of action scenes with ease.
At the time, Zheng Fengbai was at the peak of his career, and his agency, Yue Dong Media, had him booked for a lot of work. The film’s production team wasn’t very strong, but they catered to Zheng Fengbai, even if he frequently took time off. No one dared to complain.
This meant that most of Zheng Fengbai’s scenes were actually filmed by Zhuang Qin, and Zhuang Qin’s performance was even better than Zheng Fengbai’s.
Seeing how well the stuntman was doing, Zheng Fengbai had brazenly suggested to the production team, “Why not just use his face and swap it with mine using AI? The technology is really advanced these days. It should be easy, right?”
This infuriated the director. Using AI to swap faces naturally would cost a fortune in post-production.
Zheng Fengbai had no self-respect as an actor!
Later, someone from the production leaked the story to the tabloids. That’s when Zhuang Qin’s luck changed, and he ended up replacing Zheng Fengbai to finish the role as the lead actor.
“Fengbai Ge, if you’re really going to do that film, it’s best to hire extra security and check the production’s safety measures carefully.” Zhuang Qin didn’t want to say too much, but recalling what had happened to him in his previous life, he didn’t want it to happen to anyone else.
Zheng Fengbai shot him a glance. “Of course I’ll do it. What, you think I’m like you?”
Zhuang Qin smiled and didn’t respond.
Even though Zheng Fengbai often hired bots to badmouth him, secretly spending money on such things despite company orders, Zhuang Qin didn’t dislike him. Zheng’s temper might be bad, but he had clear boundaries and wouldn’t intentionally harm others.
Later, when Zhuang Qin had been blacklisted and even trainees at the company mocked him, Zheng Fengbai had stood up for him in an elevator, scolding those trainees harshly.
The stylist gently held Zhuang Qin’s chin, brushing a muted shade of lipstick onto his lips with one stroke. “Zhuang Laoshi, press your lips together.”
Zhuang Qin obediently did as instructed.
The stylist chuckled. “Zhuang Laoshi, you have such a nice lip shape. They look very kissable. You haven’t had an on-screen kiss yet, right?”
Zhuang Qin was familiar with the stylist and didn’t mind the teasing. “Maybe my next movie will be the one.”
The stylist shook his head. “I wonder who the lucky person will be.”
Zhuang Qin laughed. “It’s all for the job.”
Li Mu, with his personality, would never accept a scene like that. The script would have to be changed eventually. Zhuang Qin felt like he was worrying for nothing.
