Chapter 18: The Scheming Man "Tell Old Mo, I want to eat fish!" (Please follow me)

Director Zhang’s audition process was strict, but not complicated. Apart from a few actors who had already been pre-selected for specific roles, the remaining candidates could first communicate with him, choose their desired character, then get into costume and audition to see how they appeared on camera. If Zhang Huaimou was satisfied with the portrayal, he could decide on the spot and sign them into the cast.

Inside the studio, a makeshift dressing room had been set up. At this moment, nearly all the actors who had come to audition were crowded inside. Ordinarily, auditions for important roles should be conducted individually. Rarely did a director gather everyone together like this. If it were just minor, lesser-known actors, it would be understandable, but today’s attendees—Ning Yuyan, Zhang Jianlin, Sun Danfei, Zhou Yi, and others—were all popular stars. Each of them had some standing in the industry. If there were no previous grudges among them, it might be fine; but if there had been competition for resources, today’s gathering could easily become awkward.

Yet Zhang Huaimou’s stature in the industry meant he had no need to worry about such things. Many wanted to act in his films. Before long, Zhang Huaimou entered with his assistant, ready to begin the pre-audition discussions.

Ning Yuyan glanced around but saw no sign of Su Mu. She frowned slightly. Was he late for his very first audition? Even if fortune favored him and he was chosen by Zhang Huaimou after releasing just one song, that didn’t guarantee anything; he could still be passed over by the director. Besides, Director Zhang detested nothing more than actors being late. She sighed, took out her phone, and prepared to send Su Mu a message to remind him.

She hadn’t wanted to meddle, but since she’d been entrusted with the task, she felt obliged to fulfill it—otherwise, the “little ancestor” she owed would not be pleased. Ning Yuyan drafted a message and was about to send it when she heard soft whispers around her.

“Look, isn’t that Su Mu?”
“Hmph, he actually dared to come? Isn’t he afraid Director Zhang will pass him right away and embarrass him?”
“He’s not like us minor actors; he’s a top-tier idol, after all. Wherever he goes, he’s given some respect. He probably pulled some strings; otherwise, Director Zhang wouldn’t have invited him to audition.”
“I remember the awards ceremony. He really is the ‘buying awards’ champ for two years running. Shameless enough to declare on stage that he wanted to star in Director Zhang’s film and outshine everyone with his acting… Tsk, let’s see how Director Zhang puts him in his place today.”
“His new song from a few days ago was decent, but he’s not suited for the lead here. The real competition is between Zhang Jianlin and Zhou Yi. As for Su Mu’s acting, he’s not even on the radar—no chance.”
“True, and he’s apparently late. Director Zhang’s going to like him even less.”

The dressing room buzzed with hushed discussion. Ning Yuyan, worried, looked up—just in time to see Su Mu entering from outside.

He wore a radiant smile, handsome yet tinged with a restrained, ascetic aura that, for a moment, made Ning Yuyan and several other actresses feel a spark of attraction. Of course, it was only a fleeting impression. Still, that was remarkable, given the entertainment industry was overflowing with beautiful faces—so much so that people grew numb to them, and everyone’s standards, as well as their resistance to good looks, were far higher than ordinary folk.

“Director Zhang, hello. I’m Su Mu. I’m not late, am I?”
Su Mu greeted him naturally, showing no trace of nerves about being tested. If it had been a lesser-known actor, coming in late under Director Zhang’s gaze, their hands would surely have trembled.

Everyone watched as Su Mu strode in confidently, greeting Director Zhang as if nothing were amiss. They secretly chuckled. Zhang Huaimou was notorious for scolding actors—especially those who acted arrogantly or arrived late. His reprimands were the fiercest, often making headlines for days. In their minds, Su Mu was unlikely to fare well today.

At that moment, Zhang Huaimou was studying Su Mu. Unnoticed by others, his eyes flashed with interest. When Su Mu first entered, Zhang had intended to send him out—no audition necessary. But he paused, arrested by the controlled smile Su Mu offered during his greeting.

As a veteran director, an elder artist, and a professor at the Beijing Film Academy, Zhang’s eye for detail far surpassed ordinary people’s. Anyone trained in the craft knows that both actors and directors need keen observation skills. In drama, failure to learn observation marks one as lacking talent. Its importance cannot be overstated. Only by observing everything—moving from points to lines, then from lines to the whole—can one truly grasp the entirety. This is the framework and logic of the profession.

Thus, with a director of Zhang Huaimou’s caliber, auditions actually begin from the very first glance at an actor. He observes in secret; no one is aware. An actor’s dedication and intuition for a role are apparent from the moment they join the team. Most are unremarkable, following the rules without showing anything special. But some are exceptions.

Su Mu was such an exception.

To outsiders, Su Mu appeared as a stylishly dressed, tardy idol—on the verge of being reprimanded. Yet Zhang Huaimou saw differently. He noticed Su Mu’s logic and his grasp of the script’s framework.

Su Mu’s hair was slicked back. His retro suit was deep blue, broad at the shoulders, narrow at the waist—a style that, upon closer research, became popular in mainland China around 2000, worn mostly by newly wealthy entrepreneurs in imported goods. He wore a silk pocket square—old-fashioned, but striking.

His watch was a chunky gold piece. No tie, just a shirt with three buttons undone. Head to toe, he didn’t resemble a modern fashion icon. Although Su Mu wore it well enough to eclipse any sense of tackiness, in Zhang Huaimou’s eyes, this look was exactly the later-stage persona of Gao Qiqiang from the script!

Moreover, as Su Mu entered, his demeanor—neither servile nor arrogant, yet with a controlled smile—carried a hint of restrained danger, deep ruthlessness, and a barely concealed anxiety. Wasn’t this exactly the essence of Gao Qiqiang and his brother Gao Qisheng?

Masters need no words to exchange blows; all is revealed in actions and expression, entirely in the opponent’s eyes.

A smile appeared on Zhang Huaimou’s lips. He suddenly spoke:

“Su Mu?”
Su Mu replied, “That’s me.”
Zhang Huaimou: “You know you’re late, don’t you? If in today’s audition I deliberately stripped you of your dignity and you were ‘him,’ what would you do?”

“!!!”
“???”
“……”

The dressing room suddenly fell silent. Everyone was baffled. Even Ning Yuyan, Zhang Jianlin, and Zhou Yi—key actors—didn’t understand Director Zhang’s meaning. Was he deliberately making things difficult for Su Mu? Hmph, typical idol—no real talent, never favored by top directors. He’d probably be sent packing.

That’s what everyone thought.

Meanwhile, Su Mu’s heart leapt with joy. He had already memorized the script thoroughly; hearing Zhang Huaimou’s words, his expression darkened, as if suppressing anger, a chilling coldness radiating from within.

Su Mu spoke: “I’d tell Old Mo—I want some fish.”

Zhang Huaimou laughed, “Excellent, very good!”

Silence.
Ning Yuyan: “???”
Zhang Jianlin: “???”
Zhou Yi: “???”
Sun Danfei: “……”
The others: “???”

Everyone was utterly bewildered.