Pei Qingjian, however, was not nearly as confident. After all, the role he was auditioning for this time was noticeably different from his own personality.
This audition was for a slice-of-life drama.
Director Zhang Nan’s previous slice-of-life drama had been a huge hit. This time, he had teamed up with award-winning screenwriter Wang Bin and invited Ning Rong, who had just won the Golden Laurel Award for Best Supporting Actress, to participate, forming an even more impressive lineup. The project was clearly aimed at winning television awards.
Because of this, the drama didn’t demand actors with huge fan followings; instead, it emphasized acting skill.
Unlike idol dramas, which mainly revolve around the romance between the male and female leads, slice-of-life dramas focus on capturing real-life moments, revealing everyday experiences, and sparking empathy and reflection.
The drama Pei Qingjian was auditioning for followed this approach.
The female lead, Luo Rong, was a white-collar professional who graduated from a top 985 university. She was busy with work, had a full life, enjoyed her hobbies, and maintained her friendships. Even at the age of thirty, she was in no rush to marry.
However, her parents were extremely worried.
Luo Rong’s parents were traditional Chinese parents. In their youth, they married through arranged meetings. At that time, they barely knew each other, but as they reached the appropriate age and saw everyone around them marrying, they followed the expected path and entered marriage.
After marriage, they discovered each other’s flaws and strengths. They argued, felt dissatisfaction, experienced regret, yet ultimately, like most ordinary couples, they compromised and supported one another, raising their two children and growing together year after year.
To Luo Rong’s parents, “doing what’s appropriate for one’s age” and keeping pace with societal norms was the safest and most proper way to live.
Naturally, they expected their daughter to marry when it was “her time.”
“Marriage is an essential part of life,” they often told Luo Rong.
Adding to their concern, friends’ children around her were getting married one by one, while their own daughter remained single. This made Luo Rong’s parents restless, unable to sleep, and anxious as they arranged one blind date after another.
Unfortunately, Luo Rong liked none of them. She refused to accept what she didn’t like and continued living her life joyfully and leisurely.
Her parents worried, “You’re getting older. What if you can’t get married in the future?”
Luo Rong replied calmly, “Then I won’t marry.”
Her parents clicked their tongues. “That won’t do!”
“Why not?” Luo Rong said nonchalantly. “Marriage isn’t a mandatory exam. If you meet someone you like and want to marry, that’s great. If not, there’s no reason to force yourself.”
She explained, “I’m happy with my current life, so I’ll take things slowly. People shouldn’t be bound by age, and shouldn’t marry just for the sake of marriage.”
Luo Rong wasn’t opposed to marriage; she simply believed it should be based on genuine affection. Without feelings, marriage wasn’t necessary.
In contrast, her younger brother Luo Fei was rarely single, despite his youth. Girls were always around him—if a relationship ended, he would quickly be with someone else.
Their parents saw him as frivolous and restless and wanted him to settle down. Yet Luo Fei was unwilling.
He believed he had just graduated, stepping out of a life largely dictated by teachers and parents. Now, he finally had autonomy to shape his own life and couldn’t, nor wanted to, settle down.
The siblings clashed with their parents over these differing perspectives.
Luo Rong remained single, expressing her likes and dislikes without hesitation at every blind date. She followed her heart, regardless of the other person’s feelings.
Luo Fei continued his string of relationships. Sometimes he loved someone who no longer loved him; sometimes he didn’t love someone who still loved him. They either parted amicably or with some tension. Love, as always, was unreasonable. He could only try to act reasonably: leave when unrequited, refuse when he didn’t love the other person.
Though different in character, both siblings lived sincerely.
Meanwhile, their parents never gave up introducing potential partners, urging them to marry and enter a stable life.
In the end, Luo Fei received a breakup message amid his busy work schedule, while Luo Rong sat in a café, preparing to meet a new blind date.
No one knew what the future would hold, but for now, they were living with intention and following their hearts.
This drama focused on love, marriage, and family, centered on the four members of the Luo family, branching into other storylines to explore different approaches to marriage and the clash of generational perspectives. It vividly depicted the mindset of young people in the modern era.
Ordinarily, a script of this caliber would never call for someone as unknown as Pei Qingjian, especially with such a strong cast.
Yet luck was on his side. Just a few days ago, the actor originally cast as Luo Fei had caused a major scandal, forcing the production team to replace him to avoid risk.
The director and screenwriter were busy contacting their acquaintances, combing through the list of actors to find someone both striking in appearance and skilled in acting.
In the process, they ended up reaching Zhou Pengyue, who arranged for Pei Qingjian to come in for an audition on Tuesday.
Zhou Pengyue could hardly believe his luck—this was like a pie falling from the sky. Holding the script in his hands, he read through it, and with each page, his excitement grew.
Although Luo Fei’s role in the drama wasn’t particularly large—mostly serving as a contrast to Luo Rong—his storyline was complete and well-rounded. His character was rich and multi-dimensional.
In front of his sister, he was a caring, understanding, supportive brother.
In front of his parents, he was a filial son who stood by his own principles.
In front of his girlfriend, he was a gentle, refined lover with a hint of casual aloofness.
In front of friends and colleagues, he was reliable and loyal, yet capable of standing up fiercely if taken advantage of.
He had experienced disappointment, joy, struggle, and surrender—and yet he continued confidently on his own path.
Among all the young male characters in the script, none were as fully fleshed out as Luo Fei.
Zhou Pengyue immediately called Pei Qingjian, telling him to get ready and make sure to fight for the role.
Seeing Zhou Pengyue’s excitement, Pei Qingjian didn’t dare slack off. He hurriedly read through the script, analyzing his character.
After finishing his analysis, he even practiced a few scenes and sent them to Song Ye, asking for feedback.
Song Ye watched the clips carefully, giving thoughtful advice. Then he asked, “A new drama?”
“Not guaranteed yet,” Pei Qingjian admitted. “I have to audition on Tuesday. Only if I succeed can I say it’s a new drama.”
“Looks like a modern drama.”
“Yes, Director Zhang Nan’s Marry or Not.”
Song Ye was slightly surprised. He had heard of the project; when the production company announced it, the collaboration between Zhang Nan and Wang Bin had caused quite a stir. Some of the female actors in his company had even speculated on who the female lead would be. Unexpectedly, it wasn’t one of the usual TV faces—it was Ning Rong, a film actress.
Ning Rong had always worked in movies, with high status and popularity. This would be her first TV drama, and having just won the Golden Laurel for Best Supporting Actress last year, her involvement immediately elevated the project.
For a newcomer like Pei Qingjian, how could he possibly enter such a team?
If someone was supporting him, he wouldn’t even need to audition.
But if no one was pushing him, how could he even get such an opportunity?
Song Ye had his doubts but didn’t ask further. He simply told Pei Qingjian to prepare well and reach out if he had questions.
“Got it, thanks, Song Ge,” Pei Qingjian said happily.
Hearing the joy in his tone, Song Ye thought to himself that Pei Qingjian was truly lucky. Slice-of-life dramas differed from idol dramas: the latter mainly drew young audiences, but a slice-of-life drama that gained traction reached all age groups. For a newcomer like Pei Qingjian, it was a powerful opportunity to quickly raise his profile.
Next year, he would no longer be an unknown, obscure actor with zero visibility.
“Good luck,” Song Ye encouraged.
“Mm,” Pei Qingjian nodded firmly.
On Tuesday morning, Pei Qingjian got up early and followed Zhou Pengyue to meet the director and screenwriter.
Also present was Ning Rong.
Ning Rong was 27, young and beautiful. Her face carried a hint of coldness, and when she sat quietly, she radiated an aloof, untouchable elegance, seemingly hard to approach.
Pei Qingjian politely greeted everyone and began his audition.
The audition was divided into three parts: a monologue, a solo scene without props, and a two-person scene requiring a partner.
The director and screenwriter had specially arranged supporting actors for the partnered scene.
Pei Qingjian completed the first two parts quickly and began preparing for the third.
At that moment, Ning Rong stood up, taking the initiative to be his partner. “I’ll go first,” she said.
This was a good sign—only actors who performed well in the first two rounds would be paired with Ning Rong in the third. From the moment she stood, Pei Qingjian could subtly gauge how well he had done.
Of course, Pei Qingjian didn’t know this, but he nodded obediently and walked over to her, going over the lines they were about to perform together.
“Extend the final ‘ma’ a little,” Ning Rong said softly. “Roll it slightly, raise the tone at the end.”
Hearing this, Pei Qingjian immediately adjusted. “You walk slower, ma~”
He held the last “ma” in his mouth, circling it slowly before releasing it.
Ning Rong nodded slightly, giving him a tip: “Although Luo Fei loves and cares for Luo Rong, he’s playful by nature. Deep down, he’s a bit flirty and casual, so even in front of his sister, his words carry a teasing, almost coquettish quality.”
Previously, Pei Qingjian had only focused on Luo Fei’s respect and understanding for his sister, forgetting that even in front of her, his character was not purely obedient or naive.
After thinking it over briefly, he quickly adjusted his tone and performance.
Ning Rong thought he was smart. “Much better now.”
“Thank you, Teacher Ning,” Pei Qingjian said sincerely.
He had assumed, based on her appearance, that Ning Rong would be cold and distant, but unexpectedly, she was gentle.
“You’re welcome,” Ning Rong replied, slightly smiling, her eyes curving a bit.
She lowered her head and returned to her script.
Pei Qingjian, watching her lowered gaze, felt a vague sense of familiarity.
Had he met her before? He didn’t remember ever seeing her in person or in any films during his acting studies.
Perhaps the original protagonist had met her?
He wanted to recall it, but with the third round of the audition about to start, he pushed the thought aside for the moment.
Quickly, the preparation time ended, and Pei Qingjian stood once more before the director and screenwriter.
This was a sibling scene, and although Pei Qingjian had prepared seriously, next to Ning Rong’s exquisite acting, he still appeared somewhat inexperienced.
Wang Bin watched quietly and gave him a score of 80, half of which came from his appearance.
Luo Fei was a handsome guy. His family was average, but he never lacked girlfriends—mostly because of his looks.
Thus, his face was a large part of what shaped his personality and life. From the start, the screenwriter insisted that the actor playing Luo Fei had to be good-looking.
As long as his acting was above the passing line, it could be trained—otherwise, what was the director there for?
But looks couldn’t be faked; even the best makeup has its limits. That’s why celebrities get plastic surgery.
So being handsome was a mandatory condition—and Pei Qingjian just happened to meet it.
Director Zhang Nan and Ning Rong had a different focus.
Zhang Nan was watching Ning Rong, who performed unusually well in this scene—not that her past performances were bad, but this scene was exceptional.
Her eyes conveyed genuine warmth, as if she were truly looking at her own brother.
This warmth made Pei Qingjian’s inexperience work perfectly: it created the dynamic of an inexperienced younger brother under the subtle authority of his older sister. Just like in the story, no matter how confident Luo Fei was among peers, in front of Luo Rong he would still furrow his brows and ask, “Sister, what should I do with this plan?”
After considering everything, Zhang Nan ultimately gave Pei Qingjian a score of 98 for this round.
The extra twenty points were for Ning Rong. She was the absolute lead of the drama, and her performance would decide the quality of the entire show. Now, she clearly had the best chemistry with Pei Qingjian among all the auditioning “Luo Fei” actors, making him the natural top choice.
After scoring, they asked Pei Qingjian a few more questions before letting him leave.
Zhou Pengyue rushed up as he came out. “How was it? Do you have the role?”
Pei Qingjian couldn’t tell. He felt he had performed just okay, especially compared to Ning Rong’s brilliance.
“Teacher Ning is amazing. Compared to her, I’m too ordinary.”
Zhou Pengyue chuckled. “Come on, if you were better than her, the Golden Laurel would’ve gone straight to you. Why would you even need to audition here?”
Pei Qingjian thought, indeed—he shouldn’t compare himself to Ning Rong. He only needed to compare himself to the other auditioning actors.
“I don’t know yet,” Zhou Pengyue continued. “But the director said the results would come out soon, so just wait and see if he contacts you.”
“Mm,” Pei Qingjian replied. “Do what you can, and leave the rest to fate.”
They had done their best; now the rest was up to the heavens.
“Come on, let’s eat,” Zhou Pengyue said, putting an arm around Pei Qingjian’s shoulder.
Two days later, on Friday afternoon, Zhou Pengyue received an email notifying him that Pei Qingjian had successfully passed the audition.
Overjoyed, he immediately told Pei Qingjian the good news.
Pei Qingjian, still eating with Lan Xingchen, nearly jumped out of his seat with excitement.
“Really? That’s great!”
“Yes, yes. Study the script well—the shooting starts in just over twenty days, so you need to prepare properly.”
“Mm, I promise I won’t do anything else in these twenty days. I’ll focus entirely on the role.”
“Good.”
Zhou Pengyue gave him a few more reminders before hanging up.
Pei Qingjian looked at Lan Xingchen excitedly. “I passed the audition!”
Lan Xingchen: ……
“So what about the ‘over twenty days’ you mentioned?”
“Oh, the prep work for this drama is mostly done. In just over twenty days, shooting will begin.”
Lan Xingchen: ???
He suddenly felt short of breath. Did he just hear that correctly? Over twenty days?
“So, you’re basically on winter break now? A whole month off?”
Pei Qingjian: ……
He could only obediently look at Lan Xingchen. “Once this drama wraps, I’ll tell Zhou Ge to accept roles more slowly in the future.”
“And this drama?” Lan Xingchen asked.
Pei Qingjian coaxed, tugging at his hand. “Then I’ll have to trouble you to come visit me on set more often.”
Quickly, he added, “Zhou Ge said this drama doesn’t need to be filmed at the production base; it’s all here in our city. So as long as there’s time, it’s easy for us to meet.”
Lan Xingchen finally felt a little relieved.
“You’re amazing. Seeing you even requires a special trip—will I need to make appointments in advance from now on?”
Pei Qingjian, hearing his teasing tone, smiled wryly. “Appointments? I’ll make appointments, I’ll make appointments, I’ll schedule in advance.”
He grabbed Lan Xingchen’s hand with both of his. “I’ll schedule now—tomorrow and the day after. Whatever you want to do those two days, I’ll do it with you, okay?”
“You promise?”
“Mm-hmm,” Pei Qingjian nodded.
Lan Xingchen chuckled. “Then I need to think about what I want to do these two days, and how I want to do it.”
Pei Qingjian: ???
Author’s note:
Pei Qingjian: You’re acting weird!
Lan Xingchen: There are only twenty-something days left—what do you expect me to do?
Pei Qingjian: ……