The past few days slipped by in the hectic, oppressive rhythm of the film set.
Lin Shu no longer had time to harass Su Qianqian—she was too busy being drilled by the director to improve her acting skills, enduring long hours under the scorching sun until she was utterly exhausted each day.
Su Qianqian, meanwhile, kept wearing those thick black-framed glasses. On set, she knew exactly what she wanted. She never formed cliques or indulged in gossip. Whenever she had a spare moment, she meticulously studied the performances and blocking of every actor, big or small.
For the first eighteen years of her life, due to her congenital heart condition, she had never truly experienced the world. Joy, anger, sorrow—all had to be suppressed to avoid extreme emotional fluctuations.
Coming into this world, clinging to Gu Chengyu had been a necessity, not a choice.
But acting—acting allowed her to release her emotions, to live lives she never could before.
She wanted to become an actress.
Stubbornly, she refused to leave the set, refused to stray far from Lin Shu’s side. Partly because she feared the development of Gu Chengyu and Lin Shu’s relationship, but also because she was waiting for an opportunity.
That opportunity came sooner than expected.
That afternoon, the atmosphere on set was tense.
The director barked into his walkie-talkie, barely containing his frustration, "What do you mean she can’t make it? She bails right before filming? What’s wrong with the dance academy?"
"That courtesan role—there’s a scene where she has to perform a mesmerizing dance. Where am I supposed to find a replacement now?"
The assistant director wiped his brow. "Director, they said she sprained her ankle during practice and can’t move... This is..."
Standing nearby, Lin Shu’s agent, Brother Wang, listened with a frown, his fingers absently tapping against his thermos.
His gaze swept across the set before finally landing on Su Qianqian.
The girl was dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans, her seaweed-like hair tied carelessly at the nape of her neck, a few loose strands framing her cheeks.
The heavy black-framed glasses obscured most of her face, but even so, the delicate contours of her features were still visible.
Though she was just an assistant, there was an effortless grace to her movements, a quiet elegance that stood out.
Brother Wang’s eyes gleamed.
He had spent years in the entertainment industry, and his eye for talent was razor-sharp.
For days, he had been discreetly observing this new assistant.
Setting aside the unflattering glasses and her habit of keeping her head down, the girl’s proportions were flawless—slender yet supple, with a long neck and smooth shoulders.
Her hands, especially, were striking—slender fingers like polished jade, each joint distinct.
More importantly, her composed, focused demeanor set her apart in the chaotic atmosphere of the set, giving off an inexplicable aura of quiet brilliance.
He had seen too many desperate newcomers, their eyes brimming with naked ambition, only to come across as try-hards.
But Su Qianqian—she was like an uncut gem, still covered in dust.
An idea took shape in his mind.
The director was still fuming. "...Fine, if we have to, get that girl from Group B to fill in. Her proportions aren’t ideal, but..."
"Director," Brother Wang suddenly cut in, stepping forward.
He walked over to Su Qianqian and gave her shoulder a light tap.
Startled, she looked up, her almond-shaped eyes wide with confusion. "Brother Wang?"
Ignoring her nervousness, he got straight to the point. "Can you dance?"
Su Qianqian blinked, then nodded reflexively. "...A little."
Truthfully, she couldn’t. But she had overheard the director’s dilemma.
This was an opportunity—one she wanted to seize.
Besides, her body was flexible. Simple dance moves wouldn’t be a problem.
Brother Wang’s eyes lit up. As long as she had some foundation, that was enough. Lowering his voice, he spoke quickly, "There’s a chance here. The courtesan role—just two scenes."
"The first is a stunning dance entrance. No lines, just movement and expression."
"The second is playing a corpse."
"The original actress can’t make it. Are you willing to try? If you can pass the director’s audition, I’ll push for you to get the role."
He paused, studying the clarity in her eyes behind those glasses, then dangled the bait. "And if you do well, I can introduce you to Shen Que’s media company."
"What do you say? Want to take the gamble?"
Shen Que’s company?
Su Qianqian’s heart skipped. That was one of the true giants of the entertainment industry—a dream stepping stone for countless newcomers.
She took a deep breath, then nodded firmly, her voice soft but unwavering. "I’ll try."
The audition space was simple.
No elaborate costumes—just Su Qianqian in her T-shirt and jeans, the bulky black glasses finally removed.
The director, assistant director, Brother Wang, and a few key crew members stood watching.
Lin Shu lingered further back, arms crossed, a mocking smirk playing on her lips.
Had Brother Wang lost his mind? A mere assistant, thinking she could be a star?
The spotlight shone on the makeshift stage.
Su Qianqian stood at the center, head slightly bowed.
Then she lifted her gaze, meeting the camera directly.
For a few seconds, the air seemed to freeze.
Gasps and sharp inhales rippled through the room.
Without the glasses obscuring her face, her delicate features were fully revealed—porcelain skin, long lashes, like an orchid just beginning to bloom.
