Since the interview, Ye Zhou’s mindset has been quite relaxed. Of course, he was still somewhat nervous, but not to the point of being unable to eat or sleep.
Although Director Sang was someone he really wanted to collaborate with, Ye Zhou felt he had done his best within his capabilities. As for the results, whether good or bad, accepting them was easy.
Over a week had passed since his interview with Director Sang, and with no word, his hopes had waned. Although he had anticipated this, his heart still felt a tinge of regret.
However, he quickly adjusted his mindset. Having missed the Antarctica documentary team, Ye Zhou refocused his efforts on casting for “Rewind.”
What frustrated Ye Zhou was that, despite the smooth casting process for his previous films, “Rewind” seemed trapped in a vicious cycle, repeatedly stumbling over casting issues. Not to mention others, even he was at his wit’s end.
Ultimately, the film couldn’t be shelved indefinitely. Reluctantly, Ye Zhou gave himself a one-month deadline. If suitable actors couldn’t be found within that timeframe, he would loosen the restrictions and choose the best from the available options.
After consulting with the screenwriter and other crew members, no one objected. In their eyes, Ye Zhou’s demands for this film’s actors were perhaps too high.
Not only did the actors need to match the characters’ temperaments, but they also required impeccable acting skills to portray their personalities perfectly, which was indeed demanding.
Having matching temperament doesn’t guarantee good acting skills, and truly talented actors may not necessarily fit the character’s temperament. Searching in this manner was like finding a needle in a haystack; it was not an easy task.
While others didn’t understand why Ye Zhou had such high demands for the actors in this film, Assistant Director Meng, with whom he had worked closely before and shared an excellent personal rapport, had an inkling of his motivations.
Ye Zhou was aiming for awards recognition. No director could resist external validation, and although Ye Zhou’s films had achieved high box office success, that alone merely proved their commercial prowess, not their artistic merits.
Commercially successful films demonstrated business value but not artistic value. Moreover, despite the high box office numbers, Ye Zhou’s previous films had faced immense controversy and unrelenting criticism, both within the industry and outside, from “A Farce” to “Thriller Circus.”
With the box office success of his earlier films establishing his commercial appeal, Ye Zhou now needed to address the persistent criticisms from the industry and the public. Rather than box office figures, what he truly needed was critical acclaim and awards recognition.
It must be a prestigious award; ordinary awards no longer have much effect on Ye Zhou. He needed recognition from the major authoritative film festivals in the country.
As a veteran in the industry, Assistant Director Meng understood Ye Zhou’s current predicament and the immense pressure he shouldered.
Previously, when the casting was unsatisfactory, Assistant Director Meng had heard other crew members complaining about Ye Zhou’s stubbornness. He even considered persuading Ye Zhou not to be too obsessed. Investing so much energy, if the final result was not satisfactory, wouldn’t the cost be too high?
Ye Zhou was still young, not even twenty-five. Despite the numerous criticisms from the outside world, who knows Ye Zhou’s true level better than Assistant Director Meng, who has worked with him multiple times?
Given time, what achievements could he accomplish? Assistant Director Meng didn’t even dare to imagine.
On several occasions, Assistant Director Meng’s words of persuasion reached the tip of his tongue, but upon meeting Ye Zhou’s resolute gaze, he swallowed them back.
Ye Zhou was young, but besides sensing his undeniable talent, Assistant Director Meng also felt a maturity that was not typical for someone his age.
He… was not someone who acted impulsively, but rather made decisions with a sense of certainty after thorough preparation.
Since Ye Zhou had plans and arrangements in mind, Assistant Director Meng chose to trust him and any decision he made.
Ye Zhou had indeed considered vying for awards with “Rewind.” If done well, both the storyline and performances could shine. While winning a major award might be challenging, smaller awards should be within reach.
Unfortunately, plans can’t always keep up with changes. Ye Zhou had thought about various difficulties the film might encounter, but he hadn’t anticipated the challenges with the actors.
During this period, Ye Zhou was extremely stressed. He spent his days studying while eating, watching TV, and even researching male actors in the industry who could match the male lead’s temperament.
Persistence pays off. One afternoon, while watching a movie, a sudden idea struck Ye Zhou’s mind—a silhouette appeared.
The protagonist, Cheng Ran.
His appearance was strikingly similar to the male lead in the story, just with a slightly different temperament. However, temperament is something that can be cultivated, after all.
As for acting skills, if Ye Zhou remembers correctly, in the original plot of this bloody novel, after Cheng Ran and Jiang Yu broke up, Cheng Ran met the movie emperor Zhong Bai on a flight. From then on, he transitioned from behind the scenes to the front stage. Aided by his golden finger1金手指 – Golden Finger, this is like a “plug-in” that helps protagonists. Some common types of golden fingers are systems and special abilities., his exceptional acting skills swiftly gained him fame abroad and numerous awards upon his return to the country.
With this in mind, a bold idea suddenly sprouted in Ye Zhou’s mind…
“What did you say?” Cheng Ran couldn’t believe his ears when he heard Ye Zhou’s voice on the phone. He wondered if there was something wrong with his ears, as how else could he say something so incredible.
Startled by Cheng Ran’s shocked tone, Ye Zhou replied, “Calm down, it’s just an audition. If you’re not interested, that’s fine. I was just casually asking.”
Cheng Ran’s chest heaved heavily, as if he had something to say. However, after struggling for a while, he only managed to blurt out, “Ye Zhou, have you… experienced some sort of shock?”
“I know a good psychologist. Let me send you their contact information. Don’t neglect your health; seek medical attention promptly if needed. Ignoring illnesses is harmful.”
Ye Zhou: “…” You’re the one who needs help!
Ye Zhou knocked on his head, bewildered by his momentary recklessness in actually bringing this up to Cheng Ran.
After organizing his thoughts, he casually said, “Alright, alright, never mind. Do you have anything else to say? If not, I’ll hang up.”
There was a long silence on the phone. Cheng Ran hesitated to speak, and the howling wind in the background was particularly noticeable.
After Ye Zhou’s repeated “hello”s to get a response, he was about to hang up when Cheng Ran’s voice finally came through.
Cheng Ran’s voice sounded different from usual, somewhat hoarse and dazed.
“What you just said… were you serious?”
Leaving Jiang Yu behind to venture abroad alone, adapting to an unfamiliar city, environment, and people – undoubtedly, these challenges made Cheng Ran very uncomfortable.
The most difficult part was not those external factors, but the loneliness. The kind that continuously sprouted from the depths of his heart, threatening to drive him insane.
Cheng Ran tried to keep himself occupied and divert his attention, even making new friends. However, despite his good intentions, reality proved cruel.
In an unfamiliar country, surrounded by a foreign language and strange faces, Cheng Ran had to remain vigilant, worried that Jiang Yu might track him down. Under these circumstances, each day was a torment.
He longed to confide in someone, but after scrolling through his contacts, he realized he had no one in his home country with whom he could speak freely.
He had followed Jiang Yu since university. Jiang Yu’s outgoing and flamboyant nature meant he never hid their relationship. Coupled with his intense possessiveness, this left Cheng Ran without close friends throughout those four years.
After graduation, Cheng Ran wished to pursue a master’s degree and even received an admission letter from his dream school. However, because of Jiang Yu, he ultimately stayed by his side to assist him instead.
Cheng Ran held a unique position in the company with considerable authority. Yet, his ambiguous status and Jiang Yu’s refusal to give him face made office life extremely difficult. Subordinates largely disregarded him, only showing respect to appease Jiang Yu.
Cheng Ran went through his contacts and even got so bored that he made a list, only to cross out each name one by one for various reasons. In the end, the only name left was Ye Zhou, whom he had added without even realizing it.
How pathetic, how miserable.
After more than twenty years of twists and turns, the only person Cheng Ran could trust to talk to without worrying about Jiang Yu finding out his whereabouts was actually the enemy he had targeted for so long.
Cheng Ran’s pride prevented him from calling Ye Zhou, but his loneliness overwhelmed him. He desperately yearned to talk to someone, even if it meant being insulted, ridiculed, or mocked. He was truly, utterly alone.
Before making the call, Cheng Ran’s mind waged an internal battle. After days of struggle, he finally dialed Ye Zhou’s number.
Fortunately, Ye Zhou did not immediately hang up upon recognizing his voice.
He even… invited Cheng Ran to audition for his film.
Cheng Ran did not know how to describe his current state of mind. His rationality told him that Ye Zhou’s gesture was meant to humiliate him, to retaliate for his past actions.
But there was a voice inside him saying, he wouldn’t, Ye Zhou would never do that.
Why? Cheng Ran could not explain why he felt Ye Zhou was a good person, but his subconscious instinct assured him that Ye Zhou was not that kind of person and would never stoop to such actions.
Perhaps it was simply because he was Ye Zhou.
Ye Zhou, who was inexplicably labeled as a good person, was originally about to hang up. He had even opened a pack of potato chips and was ready to eat while holding the phone. Hearing Cheng Ran’s words caught him off guard, prompting a derisive snort, “Do you think I’d joke with you? Are we that close for me to joke around?”
As Ye Zhou said this, he was already prepared for Cheng Ran to lash out at him, trying to figure out how to counterattack without losing face. However, to his surprise, Cheng Ran did not react angrily.
“Can I…?” Cheng Ran held his breath and asked cautiously.
Seeing that Cheng Ran had no intention of starting a fight, Ye Zhou temporarily put aside the retorts he had thought of earlier and said, “Whether you can or not, I don’t know yet, but your appearance and the character match quite well.”
“If I remember correctly, you majored in acting in university, right? How about it, do you still remember what you learned back then?”
Ye Zhou’s question seemed to reignite something long dormant within Cheng Ran. Those memories that had been sealed away by him gradually resurfaced because of Ye Zhou’s words.
Cheng Ran was dazed for a moment before finally realizing what those distant things that he had stored away for many years actually were.
They were… his dreams.
In the past, he loved Jiang Yu so much that he was willing to give up everything. Because of Jiang Yu’s request for help, he decisively tore up the acceptance letter from his dream school, abandoned the major he had studied for four years, and gave up the shining dream of becoming an actor. He resolutely shifted to work behind the scenes, supporting Jiang Yu.
Acting… how long had it been since he last heard that word mentioned in his presence?
Too long, really too long. Far too long for Cheng Ran to even remember anymore.
The line fell silent once more. Raising an eyebrow, Ye Zhou remarked, “You don’t have to overthink it. If you’re interested, you can come for an audition, if not, it’s also fine…”
“I’ll go.” Cheng Ran cut him off abruptly, the words escaping his lips before he could process them himself.
Ye Zhou had just asked casually, but he didn’t expect Cheng Ran to actually agree.
Considering Cheng Ran’s current circumstances, Ye Zhou pondered for a moment before drawling, “You can’t return to the country…”
“I can. I can go back,” Cheng Ran stated without hesitation.
This statement was too impulsive. Cheng Ran couldn’t remember the last time he had acted so impulsively for many years, but this time, only this time, he wanted to go; he wanted to seize this opportunity; he wanted to try.
This time, Ye Zhou felt like the one with a problem in his head had turned into Cheng Ran. Massaging his brow, he remarked, “What nonsense are you spouting? Do you think Jiang Yu is a vegetarian? Although he may not be as capable as before, dealing with you would still be child’s play…”
“I can handle it!” Cheng Ran interjected, gritting his teeth, fearing Ye Zhou’s next words would be ‘forget it.’ “At worst, I’ll just pay him back the money.”
Ye Zhou: “…”
For a moment, Ye Zhou did not know how to respond to Cheng Ran’s seemingly delusional statement.
As Ye Zhou fell silent, Cheng Ran began to feel uneasy. He wanted to say something, to assure Ye Zhou that he could go, but when it came to speaking, he found himself unable to utter a single word.
Upon hearing the faint sobbing and sniffles on the phone, Ye Zhou was taken aback, “Hey, hey, hey, are you crying?”
Cheng Ran belatedly realized that his face was damp. He hurriedly tried to wipe it, but he had been feeling so wronged lately that the tears seemed to flow uncontrollably, no matter how much he wiped.
Yet, his pride remained, stubbornly denying, “No, I’m not!”
Ye Zhou was at a loss hearing the tearful voice on the phone. He scratched his head, hesitated for about ten seconds, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried a hint of suspicion.
“You really want to audition? You’re not messing with me, are you?”
Wiping his tears, Cheng Ran shook his head. “I… I really want to go.”
Ye Zhou had always responded better to gentleness than force. Had Cheng Ran maintained a tough stance, Ye Zhou would have undoubtedly dismissed him. But now, Cheng Ran was crying! He had made the protagonist of this book cry!
Ye Zhou, you really outdid yourself!
Ruffling his messy hair, his voice tinged with exasperation, “Alright, alright, it’s just an audition. If you want to try, then try.”
“Send me your recent schedule and address. I’ll bring someone over to you for the audition. Will that work?”
“Someone your age still crying, how embarrassing.”
“Look at how pathetic you are!”
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