Ever since he agreed to consider auditioning for Xu Qichen, Xia Xiqing had been plagued by nightmares every night, reliving events from his childhood that he had believed he had long since forgotten.
But when he woke up drenched in cold sweat, Xia Xiqing realized he had never forgotten. These dark memories had been lurking in some hidden corner of his heart, waiting for the chance to resurface and torment his nerves.
Xia Xiqing hated feeling helpless, and he hated himself even more for being so helpless yet unable to face it.
Unable to sleep after waking up, he opened his phone at 3 a.m. and refreshed his WeChat Moments. Coincidentally, the latest post was from Zhou Ziheng, who had posted at 2:45 a.m.
There was only one photo, showing a script and various notes that he had blurred out, along with a cup of coffee.
He really is diligent.
Xia Xiqing gave it a like, and the next second, he received a message from Zhou Ziheng.
[Moral exemplar: Why aren’t you asleep yet?]
[Terrorist: I’m following your example.]
Holding his phone, Xia Xiqing stared at the ceiling and thought of the materials he had seen in Zhou Ziheng’s bedroom bay window last time. It seemed that he really wanted to do well in this play, which was why he had put so much effort into it.
For some reason, an image suddenly popped into his head. Zhou Ziheng, dressed in a suit and tie, was standing on stage receiving an award, while he, dressed just as smartly, was sitting in the audience applauding him.
Xia Xiqing felt that he must be sick.
What if one of the main creators celebrating him in the audience was someone else?
[Terrorist: Which newcomers have you picked out? Send them over for me to take a look.]
It was just a joke, but to his surprise, Zhou Ziheng actually sent him a few photos.
[Moral Exemplar: The director found them at the film academy. Currently, I think these three are pretty good. They’re quite good-looking, all professionally trained, and their skills are decent.] But Xia Xiqing felt uncomfortable when he saw them. Accustomed to finding excuses, he attributed this unusual emotion to his old habit of thinking too highly of himself.
But he didn’t understand why he was comparing himself to the three newcomers mentioned by Zhou Ziheng.
Perhaps because Xia Xiqing hadn’t replied for too long, Zhou Ziheng sent another message.
[Moral Exemplar: What’s up? Why are you suddenly asking this?]
[Terrorist: Just asking, to see which newcomer is so lucky to be paired with the handsome Zhou on their first project.]
He clicked on the first photo, which was of a boy who looked to be around eighteen or nineteen years old. He had delicate features, fair skin, and looked very innocent. The second photo was similar in style, but with longer hair.
Just before sending it, Xia Xiqing deleted the second half of the sentence, leaving only the first half as a compliment.
Zhou Ziheng was editing his reply to Xia Xiqing’s previous WeChat message. He hesitated whether to tell Xia Xiqing that he only wanted to act in this play with him. He deleted and edited a few words, but then saw the new message sent by the other party.
The words “little kid” almost instantly touched his sore spot, let alone the phrase “pretty cute” that followed. He deleted all the text he had edited earlier in one go.
[Moral Exemplar: What, to your liking?]
Seeing this, Xia Xiqing couldn’t help but laugh. How could this guy still not know what his taste was? If he didn’t know, he should just look in the mirror.
He looked at the photo again. The boy in it was smiling brightly, and his eyes looked beautiful when he smiled.
Like a little angel.
[Terrorist: Isn’t this innocent-looking face your type? I wonder if it’s genuine.]
Don’t end up like me.
Zhou Ziheng was already angry, and seeing this sentence made him even angrier. It turned out that Xia Xiqing had always thought that he was fooling around with him just because of his innocent-looking face. He had known from the beginning what kind of person Xia Xiqing was, and it wasn’t because of his face that he had been deceived. Whether it was out of spite or something else, Zhou Ziheng finally typed a few words and turned off his phone.
[Moral exemplar: Yeah, that’s my type.]
As soon as Xia Xiqing saw this WeChat message, he sat up straight in bed.
When had Xia Xiqing ever been someone who could be summoned and dismissed at will? There were countless people lining up to be with him, yet Zhou Ziheng dared to say in front of him that another man was his type. These days had really given him a sense of entitlement.
The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he felt, the more he felt like a coward. He sat up and lit a cigarette. He dared not take Xu Qichen’s notebook, and now he was being outdone by this immature youngster.
Your taste? I’ll be damned if I let you act alongside your taste.
With this rather negative mindset, two days later, Xia Xiqing finally agreed to Xu Qichen’s audition. Xu Qichen was astonished on the phone, “I thought you were just stringing me along when you said you’d consider it, but I didn’t expect you to actually come.”
Actually, it was a lie, but only because he was upset with Zhou Ziheng.
“Okay, send me the time and location.”
“Huh? Didn’t Ziheng tell you? It’s tonight.”
“Tonight?” Xia Xiqing couldn’t hold back and blurted it out, then regretted it. He hadn’t spoken to Zhou Ziheng since that night. Even though they lived next door to each other, they didn’t contact each other at all, so he had no idea that the second male lead’s audition was scheduled for tonight.
“Okay, tonight at 7:30. I’ll send you the address. Don’t drive over, just take a taxi. I’ll wait for you downstairs. There are a lot of reporters around here.”
Xia Xiqing hummed in response, then hung up the phone and realized it was already seven o’clock. He didn’t bother to get dressed, so he went out wearing the black jumpsuit he wore when painting at home. While sitting in the taxi, Xia Xiqing caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. His hair was a bit messy, so he used a hair tie to secure the ends at the back of his head.
Just as he finished tying it, he paused for a moment, wondering why he was rushing to do this, as if he were eager to act with him.
No, it was because he didn’t want him to succeed. Thinking back to what happened that early morning, Xia Xiqing was filled with anger.
The taxi driver sitting in the front seat glanced at him several times, hesitated for a long time, and finally spoke up, “Are you… are you that celebrity?”
When encountering strangers, Xia Xiqing would instinctively use his fake smile, a skill he had honed over 25 years of traveling the world, and say, “You must have mistaken me for someone else.”
“No, I don’t think so. My sister’s phone screen saver is you.” The driver looked to be in his twenties or thirties. “It’s you and that actor, Zhou Ziheng, right? A photo of the two of you.” He glanced again. “I definitely wouldn’t mistake you. You have long hair and a mole on your nose. My sister really likes you.”
For some reason, Xia Xiqing felt a little proud.
When he got out of the car, the driver held his phone out the window, wanting to take a photo of him. Xia Xiqing saw it but didn’t stop him—after all, his sister was a self-study girl.
Xia Xiqing suddenly realized that the joy of pampering fans was actually mutual.
As soon as he got out of the car, he saw Xu Qichen at the hotel entrance. He was wearing glasses today, looking even more like a student than usual. Xia Xiqing ran a few steps to his side.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“No.” Xu Qichen pushed his glasses up and smiled at him. “You looked pretty cool running those two steps just now.”
“Now you finally realize how handsome your older brother Xiqing is?” Xia Xiqing smirked, his hand unconsciously resting on Xu Qichen’s shoulder. “Why don’t you ditch Xia Zhixu and stick with your older brother instead?”
Xu Qichen said nothing, just smiled, and the two of them went upstairs. During the elevator ride, he briefly mentioned the audition situation to Xia Xiqing, handing him the script he was holding, with the folded page being the part he needed to prepare.
“How many people came today?”
“Including you, four.”
Xia Xiqing hummed in response, recalling the photos Zhou Ziheng had sent him earlier, and guessed they were the three newcomers. “Were there no other actors?”
Xu Qichen shook his head. “We’ve already interviewed the others, but Director Kun wasn’t particularly satisfied. Besides,” Xu Qichen lowered his voice, “this isn’t a big production, and it doesn’t have a famous director, so many popular young actors aren’t willing to take the role.”
That made sense. In fact, Xia Xiqing had always felt that Director Kun wanted him to star in the film. On one hand, it was certainly because he saw similarities between himself and Jiang Tong, but it was also possible that the combination of him and Zhou Ziheng naturally generated buzz. After all, for a director who had always made niche films, having his work seen by more people was also an important matter.
It’s like artists who claim to be unconventional, but in reality, who doesn’t want their work to be widely known? No matter how valuable something is, if it’s not discovered, it can’t shine.
“We’ve already auditioned two actors,” Xu Qichen said as he opened the door to the audition room. “Everyone is taking a break and discussing things now. You can take a look at the script. You’re next.”
Xia Xiqing nodded.
Xu Qichen tugged at his loose work pants, which still had paint stains from drawing, and couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re dressed pretty casually today.”
Glancing down, Xia Xiqing shrugged indifferently, “Aren’t I playing an autistic youth? Autistic youths don’t dress up.” They entered through the back door. The room was quite large, with an empty space at the front. The camera was pointed at it, and a light was shining on it. A short man wearing a baseball cap was sitting in front, talking to a man in a suit beside him. Xia Xiqing guessed that the man in simple attire was the director they had mentioned.
What puzzled him was the little girl sitting beside him. Whose child was she? Or was she a child actor?
Just then, the two finished their conversation. Kun Director turned around and immediately spotted Xia Xiqing, his expression filled with surprise.
Xia Xiqing politely smiled at him.
“I’ll go up front first,” Xu Qichen patted his shoulder and walked over to sit beside the director.
Xia Xiqing nodded and sat in the corner, flipping through the script in his hands. The folded part was a small outburst scene. Jiang Tong returned home from the hospital and saw a family abusing a little girl in the hallway. This family had been living downstairs from him for two years, and it was common for them to beat the child whenever things didn’t go their way.
But today, Jiang Tong had just returned from the hospital, shivering with cold. The girl’s hoarse cries echoed through his hearing aid, reminding him of his own past. He knocked on the door, then began pounding on it until the girl’s father opened it. He rushed forward to embrace the abused child, allowing the man to strike him repeatedly, refusing to let go—even as his hearing aid was knocked off.
It wasn’t until Gao Kun returned and passed by that he was saved.
Such an intense climax scene right off the bat made Xia Xiqing feel a bit overwhelmed, but fortunately, Jiang Tong is a deaf person, so there are almost no lines, eliminating the additional task of memorizing dialogue.
For some reason, just reading the simplest descriptions in the script made Xia Xiqing feel a bit breathless. He tried to calm himself down and be more composed.
One advantage of having drawn since childhood was that he could always visualize concrete scenes in his mind, so recreating the situations in the script was not difficult.
The challenge was whether he could let go, or rather, whether he dared to let go.
“Xu Zixi.”
He looked up and saw a young man sitting nearby respond with a nod, then step forward.
“Hello everyone, I’m Xu Zixi, a third-year undergraduate student at XX Film Academy.”
Third year? He’s actually the same age as Zhou Ziheng. The distance was a bit far, so Xia Xiqing squinted his eyes to take a closer look. This was the boy Zhou Ziheng had mentioned who “suited his taste.” In person, he was even more handsome than in photos, delicate and refined, not particularly tall, with a soft voice.
Xia Xiqing watched Xu Zixi walk out the door, apparently ready to start with the knocking scene.
“Are you ready?” Director Kun asked.
“I’m ready,” Xu Zixi replied from the doorway. After half a minute, the sound of knocking could be heard. At first, it was weak, lacking in force, and not very loud. After knocking for a while with no response, his movements grew increasingly forceful, the knocking grew louder, and it was interspersed with a few cries of “Ah ah,” making it seem as though he were portraying a deaf-mute.
He began to pound on the door, the sound growing louder and more urgent. At this point, a supporting actor strode forward and abruptly opened the door. Xu Zixi’s terrified expression was revealed outside the door, and his raised hand slowly lowered.
The actor playing opposite him wasn’t responsible for delivering the lines. By this point, the little girl was already standing in front of the camera. The young actor was exhausted from the performance, so she simply stood there without needing to cry or shout, helping out the auditioning actor. This made Xia Xiqing feel even more pressure.
As soon as Xu Zixi entered, he stumbled quickly to the little girl’s side, knelt down, and embraced her. His arms were raised high, and he continued to shout the simple lines, almost repeating “Don’t… hit…” Two words, but he said them with great difficulty, truly sounding like a disabled person who had been severely beaten.
Xia Xiqing had to admit that he acted quite well.
At that moment, another person hurriedly walked in through the door and pulled Xu Zixi, who was half-kneeling on the ground, to his feet.
It was Zhou Ziheng.
So he was here after all, and he was also responsible for supporting the scene.
Zhou Ziheng pulled him to the side, and as soon as he let go, Xu Zixi hugged the young actor and knelt down. His tears flowed almost instantly, and he cried while struggling to utter the words “Don’t be afraid,” his hands trembling as he held the young actor. The scene was silent, with no one speaking.
Just this crying scene made Xia Xiqing feel the pressure. It seemed that being professionally trained really made a difference; he could cry on command and tears would flow immediately.
“Good. That’s enough.”
Upon hearing the director speak, Xu Zixi quickly stepped out of character. He wiped his face, gave a shy smile, and held the young actor’s hand, speaking softly, “Did I scare you just now?”
The director didn’t say much, but the man in the suit sitting beside him wore a satisfied smile. Xu Zixi turned and bowed to Zhou Ziheng, who smiled politely back and praised, “Your crying scene was impressive.”
If it were anyone else, they would have probably left by now after seeing such an audition. They weren’t professional actors to begin with, and with such a talented performer before them, staying here might have been embarrassing.
But Xia Xiqing was a smart and ambitious person, especially after hearing Zhou Ziheng’s compliment.
If it were any other role, he wouldn’t have been so confident.
But he was playing Jiang Tong.
Zhou Ziheng turned around and happened to catch sight of Xia Xiqing, dressed in a black work uniform, in the corner. After so many days apart, their eyes met once again.
Seeing the surprise in Zhou Ziheng’s eyes, Xia Xiqing curved his lips and raised an eyebrow.
No, it wasn’t Jiang Tong.
He was playing himself—how could he possibly lose?
