ASFSODS 52

Qiao Congnan and Huo Yinshi left the next afternoon, and the little house that had been in an uproar over their visit yesterday instantly fell quiet.

Wen Chi lounged comfortably on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, and sent a message to the two who had just landed.

【Wen Chi: So… why exactly am I doomed?】

【Qiao Congnan: Get lost】

【Huo Yinshi: Get lost】

Having ruthlessly won a few hundred yuan from them in poker last night, Wen Chi’s mood was completely unshaken by the two curt replies. Happily ordering takeout, he went back to reading his script.

…

On the day of the audition, Wen Chi and Sang Sang took an early morning flight to Nanhui City. That afternoon, Sang Sang arrived at Wen Chi’s hotel room with two shopping bags, swiped the card, stepped in, and dragged the still-napping Wen Chi out of bed. Once he had brushed his teeth and washed his face, she pointed to the neatly matched outfit laid out beside the bed and said, “Xiao Chi Ge, wear this. Forget your baggy shorts.”

Wen Chi gave her a helpless look. He hadn’t been planning to wear baggy shorts, thank you very much—what a baseless accusation!

Once he changed, the coffee table was already covered with makeup products. As Sang Sang worked on his makeup, she said, “Jin Ge said he had something to deal with and couldn’t come with us, but told me to make you look as handsome as possible.”

Hearing that, Wen Chi cracked one eye open and gave her a faint look.

Still applying makeup, Sang Sang replied, “Relax, it’s just light makeup.”

Only then did Wen Chi close his eyes again in peace.

The room stayed quiet until Wen Chi’s phone rang. Since it wasn’t convenient for him to open his eyes, he asked Sang Sang to check who it was.

The number had no name attached, and Sang Sang said, “It’s the boss.”

Wen Chi froze. “…Ugh, annoying.”

Sang Sang hit the answer button for him, and the boss’s voice came through. “Hey, Wen Chi, have you arrived in Nanhui City yet? Don’t forget you’ve got an audition today.”

Sang Sang bared her teeth and, in an exaggerated tone, mimicked the boss’s words.

Wen Chi found it funny, but when he replied to the boss, his tone was flat. “I’m here.”

“That’s good.”

Maybe it was just Wen Chi’s imagination, but when the boss heard he was in Nanhui City, it sounded like he let out a breath of relief—almost as if afraid Wen Chi might bail at the last minute.

The boss continued, “I’ll send you the address in a bit. Just make sure you’re there on time.”

Wen Chi: “Mm.”

“Oh, right.” The boss’s voice took on a probing edge. “Jin Ming’s with you this time, right?”

“Jin-ge’s busy.” Which was another way of saying his agent wasn’t here.

“All right, you can handle this yourself anyway.” The boss sounded in high spirits, and unlike last time, he didn’t get angry over Wen Chi’s perfunctory answers. “In any case, this is a rare opportunity. I hope you make the most of it.”

It sounded loaded at first, but on the surface, it was perfectly normal. This was Wen Chi’s first time auditioning for a main cast role instead of some background extra who wouldn’t get a single minute of screen time—of course it was a rare chance worth seizing.

Wen Chi decided he was probably overthinking—until that evening, when he arrived twenty minutes early at the audition location. Mask on, he stood at the entrance, head tilted back, eyes peering up blankly at the large golden characters above: Junrui Hotel.

Sang Sang, standing beside him, also looked confused. But she quickly reacted. “Wait—did the boss give the wrong address?” She immediately lowered her head to double-check the message. No mistake: Nanhui City, Yuedong Street No. 32, Junrui Hotel.

Wen Chi frowned, then headed straight into the hotel with Sang Sang.

The receptionist, a young woman, was bent over sorting documents, irritation written all over her face. Hearing movement, she looked up—hadn’t even seen them clearly—before reflexively putting on a polite smile. “Hello, welcome~”

“Hi, I’d like to ask if there’s an audition for a TV series here?”

The clear, pleasant voice calmed the annoyance that had been brewing in the receptionist’s chest. She blinked, then nodded. “Yes.”

Sang Sang finally relaxed after hearing there really was an audition here.

Wen Chi nodded. “Where is it?”

“Hold on, a girl came for the audition just now.” The receptionist tapped away at her keyboard. “Third floor, Meizhu private room.”

“Is that a guest room?” Sang Sang asked.

The receptionist smiled. “The third floor is for dining suites. Guest rooms start from the fifth floor up.”

Wen Chi lowered his eyes, lost in thought. After thanking her, he took the elevator up with Sang Sang.

The hallway was bright. The nearest private room to them spilled out a lively chatter and the aroma of food from its slightly ajar door. Sang Sang glanced at the pale-gold plaque: Lanzhu.

“Xiao Chi Ge…” Sang Sang still felt something was off. “Should we maybe call Jin Ge and have him double-check with the boss?”

Wen Chi shook his head. “Jin Ge’s busy with other people. If we tell him, he’ll just worry. It’s fine. You stay out here and go wait in the lobby.”

Since the receptionist downstairs was a young woman, it was safer for Sang Sang to wait there than in the hallway.

“No, I can’t let you go in alone. I’m your assistant—I should be with you.” Usually so obedient, the girl refused this time.

“Listen.” Wen Chi’s tone was serious now, the easy smile gone, and he really did look like an older senior looking out for a younger schoolmate.

“But…” Sang Sang hesitated.

“I need you outside.” Wen Chi checked the time. It was less than ten minutes until the appointed hour, and they had already wasted time downstairs. “Wait in the lobby. If I don’t message you in half an hour, or if you don’t see me, call Jin Ge and the police.”

Seeing her anxious, unwilling face, his stern look softened. “Don’t worry. It’s not my first day in the entertainment industry. You think I don’t know how filthy it can be?”

After a few more minutes of coaxing, Sang Sang reluctantly agreed to wait in the lobby.

Wen Chi’s phone rang again. Seeing the caller, a flash of disgust crossed his eyes. He thought about ignoring it, but curiosity about the man’s intentions made him pick up.

“Wen Chi, are you there yet?” The boss’s voice was edged with impatience. “The director, assistant director, and producer are all inside waiting.”

Wen Chi lowered his gaze, then looked up at Sang Sang’s worried expression and smiled faintly. He reached out to ruffle her hair before replying, “Just arrived.”

“Good.” As in the afternoon, the boss sounded relieved. “Go do your audition then. I’ll leave you to it.” He hung up before Wen Chi could answer.

Wen Chi slipped the phone into his pocket. Nanhui has been warm lately. He wore a short-sleeved T-shirt under a thin fleece crewneck, making him look a bit slender.

“I’m going in,” he told Sang Sang.

She responded a beat late, watching his back as he walked away, the feeling growing stronger that he seemed like a different person.

Downstairs, she sat on a lobby sofa, phone in hand, hyper-focused on his words from earlier, afraid she had missed his message—so much so that she didn’t notice another group of guests entering the hotel.

The Meizhu private room was the second-to-last. Wen Chi glanced at the rooms on either side. It was occupied to the left, empty to the right but marked “Reserved.” After a few seconds, he turned the handle.

The noise from inside spilled out immediately.

“Hahaha, President Li, you really know how to joke. Here, Xiao Qing, pour President Li a drink.”

“Honestly, President Wen, the young lady you recommended really does fit the role.”

“Right? I thought she was perfect the moment I saw her, so I had her volunteer herself.”

“Hahahaha.”

“Oh, and isn’t there another actor who volunteered? What was his name again?”

“Oh, right—he’s from Old Chen’s company, isn’t he? Wen Chi, I think.”

Just as the words fell, the man facing the door saw it push open from the outside.

A tall, strikingly handsome young man stepped in. His sweatshirt and jeans were simple, yet he was more eye-catching than most celebrities in full stage styling.

The lively atmosphere inside seemed to pause for a moment. Wen Chi’s calm gaze swept over the room. Six or seven older men seated around a round dining table, and a single young woman in the middle—looking entirely out of place.

The people inside seemed surprised that a young man had suddenly pushed the door open and walked in. The first to recover was the producer, who let out an “Oh!” to draw everyone’s attention back, then stood up, smiling as he introduced, “We were just talking about you. This is Wen Chi, an artist from President Chen’s company.”

Wen Chi had quietly assessed the scene the moment he entered. This place didn’t look like an audition venue at all. It looked more like… a business dinner.

Producer Feng gave him a discreet nudge in the back and pointed toward the only empty seat. “Xiao Wen, your spot’s over there. Go on, sit.”

The people to his left and right were all strangers; the director and producer sat opposite.

In silence, Wen Chi walked over and sat down, right across from the young woman. She didn’t look very old, wore makeup that suited her, and had on a white off-shoulder dress.

He wasn’t sure if he had imagined it, but just as he was about to sit, he thought he caught a flicker of urgency, restlessness, and unease on her face—and maybe even the faintest shake of her head, as if telling him not to sit down.

The server closed the door again, sealing them inside the haze of cigarette smoke. The man seated to Wen Chi’s right poured him a glass of alcohol without asking if he drank. From Producer Feng’s earlier introductions, Wen Chi knew this was the owner of some real estate company, addressed as President Li.

The businessmen didn’t seem especially interested in Wen Chi. Their conversation remained centered on the young woman. Soon, someone brought up how good she was at dancing and, half-jokingly, suggested she perform right there.

Wen Chi lowered his gaze to his phone, the chat screen with Jiang Siheng still open. The man had just asked what he was doing, and Wen Chi had replied: 【Seems like I’m having dinner.】

A question mark came back almost immediately.

【Jiang Siheng: What do you mean “seems like” you’re having dinner?】

Seeing that, Wen Chi’s lips quirked up slightly. An expression that didn’t go unnoticed by someone across the table.

“Xiao Wen.”

Hearing his name, Wen Chi looked up from the screen toward the speaker.

It was Chen Han, the “amazing” director the boss had mentioned earlier, the one said to have launched countless careers. Even as he tried to suppress the sordid thoughts in his mind, the filth in his gaze was impossible to hide.

Wen Chi met his eyes and replied, “Director Chen.”

Chen Han smiled faintly. “How come you haven’t eaten anything? Not to your taste?”

From the way the others immediately quieted, it was clear Chen Han was the one leading this “dinner.” Strange. He was just a director in the entertainment industry, yet these business bigshots seemed to listen to him.

“It’s not that. I’m just not very hungry, thank you, Director Chen,” Wen Chi said.

“Then have some wine. Can’t have dinner without drinking.” President Li pushed the glass closer to him.

Wen Chi lowered his eyes to it. Under the collective gaze of people far more powerful than him, his slender, pale hand picked it up, and he downed it in one go.

He didn’t notice the man sitting beside Producer Feng staring unabashedly at that hand. His gaze is hot, predatory, and full of desire.