Jiang Yue unscrewed a bottle of water, tilted his head back, and took a sip.
“Just good luck.”
“You call that luck?!”
Lu Ming lunged forward in one stride, throwing his arms around Jiang Yue's.
His expression was so exaggerated, it looked as if he had just seen the God of Wealth descend to earth.
“Brother Yue, don't forget me when you strike it rich! With your money-making ability, why are you still planning to be a code monkey?”
“I'll become a journalist in the future just to write exclusive features on you.”
“I've even thought of the headline.”
“Shocking! Donghai University Male Student Repairs Computers All the Way into Showbiz, Earns Four Years of My Living Expenses in a Single Day!”
Jiang Yue pushed his face away with a smile.
“Don't get ahead of yourself. I still have to audition for a new role tomorrow.”
Lu Ming froze.
“What role?”
“A historical drama.”
Jiang Yue thought about it, then added,
“The director is Xu Pingqiu.”
The dorm room fell dead silent.
Lu Ming's eyes widened as if he had just heard some utterly preposterous news.
“Who? Xu Pingqiu?”
“That top-tier director Xu Pingqiu who's won so many awards he can barely hold them all?”
Jiang Yue nodded. “Yeah.”
Chen Haotian also took off his headphones and turned around.
Behind his glasses, his gaze grew noticeably more serious.
“He asked you to audition?”
Lu Ming felt like his entire worldview was being dismantled and rebuilt on the spot.
“No way.”
“You're a computer science major who was repairing a crew's server just yesterday.”
“Today you finish shooting a web drama, and tomorrow you're auditioning for Xu Pingqiu's new project?”
He clutched his chest and slowly sank back into his chair.
“This world is getting more and more surreal.”
“Brother Yue, you're not just switching careers; you're playing on a completely different server.”
...
At the same time, inside the talent director's office at the Xinghui Entertainment building.
Wang Jin sat on a spacious leather sofa, swirling a glass of red wine in his hand with an easy expression.
Zhang Yu sat opposite him, his face incredibly grim.
“Brother Wang, are we just going to let this go?”
“I was publicly humiliated by an amateur on set! I really can't swallow this insult!”
Wang Jin took a sip of his wine and sneered.
“Short-sighted.”
“It's just a minor role in a web drama. Losing it is no big deal.”
“It doesn't hurt us in the slightest.”
Zhang Yu gritted his teeth. “But I lost face!”
“Face?”
Wang Jin glanced at him.
“How much is face worth in this industry?”
“Resources are what actually matter.”
He stood up as he spoke and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside, the city lights stretched out in a continuous sea of brilliance.
Wang Jin looked down at Donghai City beneath him, slowing his pace.
“Everyone in the industry knows about Li Cheng's relationship with Xu Pingqiu.”
“Xu Pingqiu's 《The Grand Game》 is the top contender for awards next year.”
“Xinghui is planning to invest in the project to secure one or two major roles.”
“I gave Li Cheng a way out today so that when we negotiate our collaboration later, he won't badmouth us in front of Xu Pingqiu.”
Zhang Yu's eyes slowly lit up.
Wang Jin continued, “With that relationship and the company's investment, securing the third male lead for you won't be much of an issue.”
Zhang Yu stood up immediately.
“You're brilliant, Brother Wang!”
Wang Jin glanced at him.
“That's why you shouldn't keep your eyes glued to a minor web drama.”
“In the entertainment industry, it's never about a single scene. It's about resources, capital, and connections.”
At this point, he swirled his glass, a hint of disdain in his voice.
“As for that college student, so what if he has a bit of talent?”
“With no agency, no connections, and no background, he won't even be able to make a splash in this industry.”
Hearing this made Zhang Yu feel much better.
He sat back down on the sofa, his resentment largely fading.
“True.”
“A computer repairman—no matter how well he acts, nobody is going to promote him.”
Wang Jin smiled and said nothing more.
He raised his hand and drained the red wine in his glass.
The light fell across his face, revealing an expression of supreme confidence, as if everything was still firmly under his control.
Yet, he had no idea that just half an hour ago, the very Xu Pingqiu he was trying so hard to get in touch with had already instructed someone to actively add that "no agency, no connections, no background" college student.
Time passed quickly, and the next day arrived. On the twelfth floor of the Blue Ocean Hotel.
The hallway was quiet, and footsteps made only faint rustling sounds against the carpet.
Jiang Yue stepped out of the elevator and immediately spotted the conference room at the end of the hallway. Only a few staff members stood outside, checking the schedule.
“Teacher Jiang?”
Casting Assistant Director Zhao Gang walked up to greet him, his eyes scanning Jiang Yue from head to toe.
He was tall and clean-cut, without any of the overly polished, artificial air typical of actors.
No matter how he looked at him, Jiang Yue didn't seem like the southern hostage prince who had been trapped in the capital for ten years in 《The Grand Game》.
Zhao Gang felt doubtful in his heart.
His physical conditions were indeed excellent, but the role of Chu Yan was truly not something that could be secured just by having a handsome face.
“Director Xu is inside.”
Zhao Gang handed over a few printed sheets of paper.
“This is the audition scene. You have twenty minutes to prepare.”
Jiang Yue took the papers, walked over to a sofa in the corner, and sat down.
The scene on the paper wasn't complicated.
Audition role for 《The Grand Game》: Chu Yan.
The southern hostage prince, trapped in the capital for ten years.
The protagonist of the script was Lin Zheng, the son of a general whose family was falsely accused and executed. Now using the alias Xiao Yi, he was making a name for himself in the martial world as a young hero.
He had recently caused quite a stir in the capital and caught the attention of several princes. Attending this banquet was also to observe the situation and lay the groundwork for his future infiltration.
And this particular scene took place during a banquet hosted by the current prime minister at his residence. Ostensibly a flower-viewing gathering, it was actually a perilous trap.
The prime minister intended to bestow a cup of poisoned wine upon the sharp and prominent Xiao Yi.
First, to test the power behind him; second, to see if this suddenly rising young man was a chess piece he could control.
He would not tolerate any variable escaping his control.
The character Jiang Yue was auditioning for, Chu Yan, was currently a useless fool whom everyone looked down upon. Attending the banquet was part of the facade he had maintained for years.
Whenever anyone with power and influence invited him, he would always attend.
Many treated him as a joke—someone who put on a tough front but was weak inside, who clung to power but was utterly incompetent.
His objective was simple: pretend to be drunk and crazy, snatch Xiao Yi's wine cup, and then "accidentally" knock it over.
Using the most foolish and least calculated-looking method, he would extricate Xiao Yi from the situation.
As for why he was helping?
Actually, to be precise, it wasn't about helping.
Jiang Yue looked at the script, his fingertip lightly brushing over the name "Xiao Yi."
To Chu Yan, who Xiao Yi was didn't matter.
What mattered was that Xiao Yi was someone the prime minister wanted to eliminate or test.
A living person who could cause headaches for the prime minister was far more useful than a corpse.
Stirring up the water was Chu Yan's way of surviving in the capital.
The truly difficult part of this scene lay exactly here.
It had to be authentic.
Chu Yan had to fool the entire world, fool the suspicious prime minister, and even make the rescued Xiao Yi believe he was just lucky.
The real Chu Yan had to weave madness and cowardice into his very bones, never allowing anyone to catch even a hint of "I'm actually very clever."
Otherwise, he wouldn't have survived to this day.
Twenty minutes later, the conference room door opened.
“Jiang Yue, come in.”
Jiang Yue stood up and walked into the conference room.
The room was spacious and empty in the center, with only three people sitting behind a long table at the front.
The man in the middle had graying hair and heavy brows. Just sitting there, he exuded an oppressive air of someone long accustomed to giving orders.
It was none other than Xu Pingqiu.
Xu Pingqiu flipped open his files, his gaze landing on Jiang Yue's face.
He had watched the clips Li Cheng sent last night several times. Jiang Yue's ability to control his micro-expressions was indeed excellent.
But the hacker named Shen Xu was defined by a pure, core coldness. Chu Yan was different; Chu Yan was a fiery madness on the surface, while the ice of ten years frozen lay deep in his bones.
If it was off by even a fraction, the flavor of the performance would be entirely ruined.
“Finished reading the script?”
Xu Pingqiu spoke directly.
Jiang Yue nodded. “Yes.”
“Begin.”
No pleasantries, straight to the point.
Jiang Yue stood in the center of the room.
“System,”
he called out in his mind.
“Equip the Gold-Tier Trait, Zhuang Zhou's Butterfly Dream.”
【Trait equipped. Constructing second personality...】
In an instant, Jiang Yue's posture didn't change.
Yet, inside his body, a transformation had already begun.
His heart rate accelerated, blood rushed rapidly to his face, a sickly flush quickly spreading across his cheeks and neck. His pupils slowly dilated, and his gaze began to wander.
This was 【Zhuang Zhou's Butterfly Dream】.
It wasn't as simple as acting the part.
It was making him truly become another person at this very moment.
A profligate, useless fool who had drunk three pints of strong liquor and could collapse at any second.
Rate on N.U.
