Salted Fish Crew

Chapter 9

"What do you mean, a crappy web drama?" Sister Zhang slapped a hand onto the table, her brows twitching as she took offense. Still, she ignored He Meng and stared straight at Li Wenchuan. "After all these years, you know your own situation. Be content with what you have."

"But that opportunity clearly belonged to Li Wenchuan. How could you not even give him a chance to audition?" The girl braced both hands on the table and stood on tiptoe, barely managing to look down on them.

Sister Zhang abruptly changed the subject. "This is your first time being an agent, isn't it?"

"Yes. Why?" He Meng paused, her tone puzzled.

Li Wenchuan slowly stepped forward, picked up the script, flipped through a few pages, then raised his eyes to meet Sister Zhang's calm gaze. "I'll take it."

"No! You—"

"This one will do. I think it's quite good." Li Wenchuan patted nonexistent dust from the script.

Sister Zhang smiled in satisfaction. "Xiao He, learn from him."

After all, he had spent several years in the entertainment industry. He was far more sensible than his own agent. Young people were prone to being headstrong; a few years of hardship would straighten them out. That was what Sister Zhang thought.

What she did not know was that the person before her was not some eighteenth-tier nobody who had struggled in the entertainment industry for years without making it. He was an emperor who had seized the throne amid slaughter for imperial power.

He understood. Those without strength had no right to say no. Even without Han Shiye, there would be others. The director merely thought he was decent enough to audition; it did not mean the role was his.

If someone else wanted it, any number of actors with greater status than him could easily take it.

Even after leaving the office, He Meng still looked indignant. She did not understand why Li Wenchuan had voluntarily accepted such a production. He had popularity now, and more opportunities were opening up. There was no need to accept this sort of "favor."

The company did not care about the development of a minor artist like him, but he was the only—and first—artist she had handled. She could not accept it. "Let's not go. I've never even heard of this director or screenwriter. And that title—does it look any different from something like The Seductive Prince?"

Li Wenchuan was reading the script. At her words, he closed it and looked at the conflicted girl before him. "What do you think I'm worth right now?"

"? Huh?"

"What kinds of productions can I take? Taking into account the dramas I acted in before, if you were a director, what would you think?"

"..." He Meng suddenly felt the terror of being ruled by terrible dramas—the kind that left one blind. She silently opened her mouth, but in the end, said nothing.

Li Wenchuan left it at that and continued reading the script. Before long, he heard the person in front of him say, "But this won't bring any buzz. You're not young anymore."

In the rearview mirror, the man had his head lowered. His eyelashes were long and thick, his thin lips vivid red. The slight curl of his mouth made him resemble a scholar traveling through mountain woods at night with books on his back, the moon bright and the night misty, knocking upon a door to ask, could he stay the night?

The man's slender fingers lightly held a page of the script, like bamboo, like jade. He neither agreed nor disagreed with her remarks.

He Meng abruptly fell silent. She felt like everything she had said was bullshit—the silent, odorless kind. With a man like this, even when he was old, he would still be the old baby of countless young girls, wouldn't he? What the hell was she worrying about? Damn it.

When they arrived at the new audition venue, it was truly deserted compared with the previous one. The occasional person who came by would take one look and mutter, "Did I come to the wrong place?"

He Meng clutched her chest, a little short of breath. "No... you didn't..."

Since there was no one around, they exchanged greetings and went straight inside.

They saw a middle-aged man with wildly unrestrained hair—sparse and fluffy, yet balding—lying on a simple chaise lounge and gnawing on a popsicle. Hearing movement, he turned his head and immediately locked onto the ethereal, breathtaking Li Wenchuan.

He spoke excitedly. "You're here, brother? Don't just stand there. Oh, come on, don't be such a stranger." He had a staff member bring over a chair and signaled with his eyes for him to sit.

He Meng watched helplessly as her artist took the opportunity, settling naturally into the chair as though he had become one with it, chatting and laughing with the director.

"I thought you weren't coming."

"The script is so interesting. It'd be a shame not to."

"Ho, you've got taste." The director flashed a greasy smile that seemed to smell of cream, his face saying, You understand me.

He Meng timidly interrupted them. "Um, excuse me, but aren't we auditioning?"

The director waved a hand. "Audition for what?"

He looked at Li Wenchuan, his eyes shining. "From the first moment I saw you, I knew the male lead of my drama had to be you. Other than you, no one can bring the crown prince in my heart to life."

He Meng's head hurt. "You flatter him. May I ask what exactly..." had driven you so completely insane?

The director finished the last bit of his popsicle, his expression turning solemn and profound. He held the leftover stick between his fingers as though he were smoking an eighty-two-year-old cigar.

He Meng concentrated intently. Could her artist really possess some extraordinary talent she had not discovered?

"Because he's salty."

"...???"

"I've never seen anyone this salty in my life."

"..."

He Meng: I've never been this helplessly speechless in my life either :).

Elsewhere, at the audition venue for For the Phoenix.

Jin Yue had already been chosen as the male lead, so there was no need for him to audition. He had only come by near the end to meet the director and producer, then have a meal with everyone.

"I heard Li Wenchuan was going to play the fourth male lead?" he asked casually.

Sun Hao pushed up his glasses. "No. Someone from his company snatched it away."

Seeing Jin Yue raise his brows with interest, Sun Hao continued, "It seems his former agent helped a newcomer under her get it. It wasn't an important role, but for Li Wenchuan right now, it still cut off his prospects."

"He brought it on himself." Jin Yue gave a scornful laugh.

So what if Li Wenchuan had shone brightly on that show to get back at him? The cooked duck had still flown away right from his mouth. If he had known better and obediently come back, he would not have ended up like this.

Sooner or later, Li Wenchuan would come back crying and beg him.

Without him, Jin Yue, Li Wenchuan was nothing.

Over the dinner, glasses clinked and drinks were exchanged as the group talked about everything under the sun in a lively, harmonious atmosphere.

Jin Yue's phone lit up, showing an unread message. His gaze darkened, and he turned off the screen without responding. Before long, another seven or eight messages arrived in quick succession. Frowning, he pressed the power button and shut the phone off.

As he put it back into his pocket, he felt irritated. He undid a few buttons of his shirt and only felt a little better after taking a sip of chilled liquor.

In his mind, a figure lingered and refused to leave.

It had begun from the moment he first saw Li Wenchuan. For all these days, he had been unable to forget that red-clad figure. Yet every time in his dreams, that person left without hesitation, with unmistakable—disgust in his eyes. Yes, disgust.

"Damn it." He cursed under his breath.

After arranging his expression, he joined the conversation at the table. "Director Zhou, I heard Wenchuan was coming to this drama too?"

Everyone there was an old fox. Director Zhou could not gauge the relationship between the two, so he merely laughed it off and said helplessly, "He was, originally. But plans can't keep up with changes. I'm afraid they can only miss each other this time." His tone was full of regret.

"Ah, what a pity. Wenchuan is actually quite good; he's just lacked opportunities." Then he changed the subject. "But if I remember correctly, there's a role in this drama for a personal servant, isn't there? What do you think, Director Zhou?"