Ming Qi finally understood what it meant to survive a desperate situation.
It was like a beast with glowing green eyes, baring its fangs and drooling as it blocked his path. Just when he thought he was about to be swallowed whole, it suddenly ignored him and sprinted away, kicking up a gust of wind that left him stumbling.
Unharmed—but absolutely thrilling.
He steadied himself, forcing his racing heart to calm down, and quietly let out a breath before asking Meng She, “If I said I just called a random ride and the system assigned me a Cullinan… would you believe me?”
His bright, clear eyes were spotless—without a trace of guilt. There was even a hint of earnest sincerity in his expression, as though he disdained lying.
—The top-tier reflexes of a skilled actor.
Ming Qi was confident his acting could fool Meng She.
What he never expected, however, was that Meng She had already gone completely off track.
Meng She barely even looked at Ming Qi’s expression. He was already stunned. “Holy crap—so those online stories are actually real? I saw a short video of someone hailing a ride and getting a Rolls-Royce Phantom. I thought he was messing with people. Turns out rich folks really can be this bored?”
Ming Qi: “……”
He craned his neck. “Which video? Show me.”
Meng She pulled out his phone, opened a short video app, and carefully scrolled through his Saved folder. Finally, on the sixtieth row, third video, he found the bold title: Guys, you won’t believe this! I called a ride and got a Rolls-Royce!
He sent it to Ming Qi. After watching it, Ming Qi, filled with gratitude, sent back three little red flower emojis.
Coming back to his senses, Meng She was still lamenting, “If I’d known, I would’ve driven to your place first and then called a ride with you. I’ve never even sat in a car that luxurious.”
That fleeting glimpse of the Cullinan’s sleek body and imposing design kept replaying in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more regret he felt—he even stomped his foot.
Ming Qi: “……”
He had not expected Meng She to be this disappointed.
Testing the waters, he said, “Next time if I randomly get one again, I’ll have it pick you up first?”
Meng She smacked his shoulder approvingly. “You’ve got me in your heart.”
Ming Qi’s eye twitched. He coughed lightly, turned his head away, and quickly changed the subject, urging Meng She to head toward the company.
They were at the headquarters building of Huachang Pictures—the production company behind Death Notice. Huachang had long collaborated with Zhang Cong. Rumor had it that when Zhang Cong was down on his luck, Huachang had believed in him and funded his first film. Though that film still carried the rough edges of his early years, it had unexpectedly received overwhelming praise—marking the beginning of Zhang Cong’s rise.
Since then, whether out of gratitude or habit, every one of Zhang Cong’s films had Huachang’s name attached.
“Oh right—guess who one of the leads in Undercover is?” Meng She asked mysteriously after finally dragging his attention back from the Cullinan to the movie.
But with the entire entertainment industry as possibilities, Ming Qi had no clue.
Meng She grinned and revealed, “Bu Hongfang.”
Ming Qi was surprised. “So they’re working together again.”
Meng She nodded. “Yeah. Bu Hongfang’s signed with Huachang, and he’s close with Zhang Cong. Plus, his performance in Death Notice was amazing—no surprise they’re collaborating again.”
He patted Ming Qi’s shoulder. “Work hard and land that forensic doctor role. Then you’ll be collaborating with them again too.”
“Tsk. The audition hasn’t even started, and some people are already dreaming.”
The mocking voice cut through Meng She’s words, accompanied by deliberate footsteps and a few snickers. The familiar tone made Meng She whip his head around.
Sure enough, a man around twenty-seven or twenty-eight stood beside them, mask on, removing his sunglasses to reveal a pair of arrogant eyes. Taller than Meng She by a few centimeters, he looked down at him sideways—full of disdain.
Running into bad luck on such an important day—Meng She’s fists clenched. His smile vanished as his gaze slid past the man to the agent behind him. The agent smiled faintly, as if greeting an old friend.
“After Death Notice came out, Siyán and I went to watch it,” he said casually. “Ming Qi did pretty well—just a pity he barely had any screen time. Though I hear the online reviews are good? How much did you spend buying those promo articles?”
“Used your dad’s cremation money,” Meng She sneered, grabbing Ming Qi’s arm and walking past them.
Le Siyán stood where he was, watching Ming Qi’s back. Even with both of them wearing masks, it was obvious whose features were more striking. Just thinking about Ming Qi’s overly outstanding face made irritation flicker in his eyes.
He turned to his agent. “I don’t remember the company notifying them. Why is he here?”
Shi Yong shrugged casually. “He only had two minutes of screen time, but he still worked with Director Zhang. Having some insider info is normal.”
“But he—” Le Siyán frowned.
“What, you’ve taken all those acting classes the company arranged and have a few more years of experience, and you still don’t think you can beat him?” Shi Yong cut him off.
“That’s not it… but his performance in Death Notice really was good,” Le Siyán admitted, unable to hide a trace of anxiety.
Shi Yong didn’t take Ming Qi seriously at all. “Zhang Cong is known for being strict. Who knows how many takes it took to get those two minutes right? Not to mention Ji Xinran and Bu Hongfang were there to guide him. If you were there, you could’ve done just as well.”
Le Siyán thought about it and found it reasonable.
Relaxing, he put his sunglasses back on and headed toward the audition floor.
Meanwhile, after shaking them off, Meng She was still fuming. Leaning against the elevator wall, he took a deep breath, but couldn’t hold it in. “Why did we have to run into those two pieces of trash?”
Compared to his anger, Ming Qi remained relatively calm despite crossing paths with his former agent. “With Death Notice setting the bar so high, it’s normal that Undercover would attract them. Everyone wants a share.”
“I just wonder which role Le Siyán is aiming for.”
Meng She frowned.
Today, Zhang Cong was auditioning for two roles: the forensic doctor Ming Qi was trying for, and a member of the main protagonist team.
After a moment’s thought, Ming Qi analyzed, “If nothing unexpected happens, we’ll probably be competing for the same one.”
Le Siyán’s appearance and build didn’t quite match the protagonist team member.
“Then he can cry his way home today,” Meng She snorted. “Two idiots.”
Arriving on the twelfth floor, Ming Qi took his number and found a quiet corner to sit.
Unlike many of the third- and fourth-tier actors present, Ming Qi held no script in his hands. He looked calm, eyes closed, silently running through the forensic doctor’s character in his mind. A week was enough for him to fully grasp the role. As long as he performed normally, he didn’t believe he would leave empty-handed today.
Time passed quickly. Meng She, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed Le Siyán entering the room marked for the forensic doctor role. When he came back out, the pride and excitement on his face were impossible to hide. Even from a distance, in the otherwise quiet hallway, Meng She could clearly hear the exchange between him and Shi Yong.
“How was it?”
“Director Zhang said my understanding was pretty good.”
“With Director Zhang, ‘pretty good’ basically means excellent. Looks like you’ve got a strong shot at landing the role.”
Meng She: “……”
As much as he and Shi Yong were famously at odds back at Qichuang, he had to admit—this time, the man was right.
When Ming Qi filmed Death Notice, Meng She had been there the entire time as his manager. Back then, Zhang Cong’s evaluation of Ming Qi had also been just “not bad.” Yet even that “not bad” had been enough to amaze audiences on the big screen…
Did that mean the role was really going to fall into Le Siyán’s hands?
Honestly, that would feel worse than death.
Just as he was spiraling, the assistant director called the next number. Ming Qi stood up. Facing Meng She’s complicated, worry-filled gaze, he curved his eyes slightly and said, “Don’t worry, Meng-ge. I won’t lose.”
Something about Ming Qi’s confidence eased Meng She’s restless nerves. He gave him a quick gesture of encouragement.
That trip inside lasted nearly half an hour.
When the door opened again, Zhang Cong lowered his gaze and circled Ming Qi’s name with his pen as he watched him leave. Then he turned to Bu Hongfang and another producer. “What do you think? Compared to that Le Siyán guy.”
Bu Hongfang shrugged. “I praised him a long time ago. Same opinion today.”
The other producer chuckled. “Right, I forgot you’ve worked together before.”
Then, resting his chin on his hands, he answered seriously, “Good look and solid acting. What surprised me more was how much effort he put into the forensic aspect. I asked a few professional questions, and he actually answered them. With that level of dedication and his acting ability, success is only a matter of time.”
The three clearly reached a unanimous conclusion.
…
The moment Ming Qi stepped out, Meng She rushed up to him, lowering his voice anxiously. “How was it? Did Director Zhang say anything?”
Like… something even better than “not bad”?
But Ming Qi’s answer was bound to disappoint him.
“He didn’t say much. Just told me to go back and wait for news.” Seeing Meng She’s face fall, Ming Qi quickly added, “But I think I did well. And Senior Bu secretly gave me a thumbs-up.”
Meng She: “!”
Like a dying patient suddenly revived, he was back in full spirits.
Glancing at the time, it was already past noon.
“I just heard the assistant director say they’ve prepared lunch. Want to eat here?”
Ming Qi was about to agree when he noticed several unread messages on his phone. “Wait a sec,” he told Meng She, then opened the chat.
It was from Yu Qinzhou.
Y: Finished?
Y: Guess not yet.
The two messages were ten minutes apart, both sent right in the middle of his audition.
77.: Just finished. About to grab lunch.
Y: Where are you planning to eat?
Ming Qi answered honestly: the Huachang cafeteria. Two seconds later, Yu Qinzhou sent over a location.
Ming Qi tapped it open—it was a Chinese restaurant just near the Huachang building, only a five-minute walk away.
Y: Had my assistant book a table for you. Care to honor me with your presence?
Ming Qi: “!”
How thoughtful—he had even arranged lunch.
Rubbing his now-empty stomach, Ming Qi decisively chose the restaurant over the cafeteria. He sent back a little bowing cat emoji in thanks and dragged Meng She along.
“During lunch hour, won’t it be packed?” Meng She asked.
“My family already reserved a table.”
My family?
Meng She silently repeated the words, thinking that Ming Qi must have gotten along pretty well with his family over the holidays.
They usually were not this attentive.
The five-minute walk passed quickly. Just as Ming Qi stepped toward the restaurant entrance, Meng She suddenly grabbed his arm.
“Huh?” Ming Qi turned back.
Meng She was staring toward the adjacent parking area, eyes lighting up. “Look! The Cullinan you got this morning!”
Ming Qi: “…Huh?”
He turned his head—and before he even saw the car, he saw the man stepping out from behind it.
Ming Qi: “…!!!”