The Salted Fish Crew

Chapter Nine

"What do you mean, 'some lousy web drama'?" Sister Zhang set her hand on the desk, one brow twitching as her displeasure surfaced. Ignoring He Meng, she stared straight at Li Wenchuan. "After all these years, you know perfectly well where you stand. 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 against the desk, standing on tiptoe just to barely create the impression of looking down at them.

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

"Yes. Why?" He Meng froze for a moment, her tone baffled.

Li Wenchuan, however, slowly stepped forward and picked up the script. After flipping through it briefly, he lifted his eyes to meet Sister Zhang's calm gaze. "I'll take it."

"No! You—"

"Let's go with this one. I think it's pretty good." Li Wenchuan brushed nonexistent dust from the script.

Sister Zhang smiled in satisfaction. "Little He, you should learn from him."

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

What she did not know was that the person standing before her was not some low-tier nobody who had struggled in the entertainment industry for years without success, but an emperor who had seized the throne through bloody battles 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 suitable enough to audition; it did not mean the role was already his.

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

After leaving the office, He Meng still looked indignant. She could not understand why Li Wenchuan had willingly accepted such a production. Now that he had popularity, more opportunities would follow. There was no need to owe this kind of "favor."

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

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

"Huh? Um?"

"What kinds of productions can I take on? Considering all the dramas I acted in before, if you were a director, what would you think?"

"..." He Meng suddenly felt the terror of being dominated by bad dramas—the kind that left one blind. Her mouth opened soundlessly, but in the end, she said nothing.

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

In the rearview mirror, the man had his head lowered. His lashes were long and thick, his thin lips vividly red. The faint curve of his mouth made him resemble a scholar traveling through mountain woods at night with a book case on his back. The moonlight was bright, the night misty; he knocked on a door and asked, could he stay the night?

His slender fingers lightly held a page of the script, bamboo-like and jade-like. He neither agreed nor disagreed with her words.

He Meng suddenly fell silent. She felt as though everything she had said had been farting—silent and odorless farts, at that. With a man like this, even when he got old, he would still be every young girl's beloved old baby, wouldn't he? What the hell was she worrying about?

When they arrived at the new audition venue, it was truly deserted compared to 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, almost unable to catch her breath. "No... you didn't..."

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

There, a middle-aged man with wildly unruly hair—thin and fluffy, with a bald patch mixed in—was lying on a cheap chaise lounge and chewing on a popsicle. Hearing movement, he turned his head and immediately locked onto Li Wenchuan's otherworldly beauty.

He spoke excitedly. "You're here, brother? Don't just stand there. Oh, come on, don't be so formal." He had a staff member bring over a chair, signaling for him to sit quickly.

He Meng watched helplessly as her artist took the hint and smoothly settled into the chair, chatting merrily with the director.

"I thought you weren't coming."

"This script is so interesting. It would've been a shame not to."

"Whoa, you've got taste." The director flashed an oily, cream-scented smile, his face saying, You get me.

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

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

He stared at Li Wenchuan, his eyes shining. "From the very first moment I saw you, I knew the male lead of this drama had to be you. No one but you could bring the crown prince in my heart to life."

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

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

He Meng focused intently, thinking perhaps her artist possessed some extraordinary talent she had yet to discover.

"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 merely come by as things were wrapping up to meet the director and producers, and have a meal with everyone.

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

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

Seeing Jin Yue raise a brow with interest, Sun Hao continued, "Apparently, his former agent helped a newcomer under her take the role. It wasn't an important part, but for Li Wenchuan right now, it was still cutting off his future."

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

So what if Li Wenchuan had shone on that show to get back at him? The cooked duck had still flown away 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 Jin Yue, Li Wenchuan was nothing.

At the dinner table, glasses clinked and drinks were passed around. Everyone chatted about everything under the sun, and the atmosphere was lively.

Then Jin Yue's phone lit up, showing an unread message. His gaze darkened, and he turned off the screen without paying it any mind. Before long, seven or eight messages arrived in rapid succession. Frowning, he powered off his phone.

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

A figure lingered relentlessly in his mind.

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

"Damn it." He cursed under his breath.

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

Everyone present was an old fox. Director Zhou could not gauge the relationship between the two, so he merely laughed it off. With a helpless expression, he said, "That was the original plan, but plans can't keep up with changes. I'm afraid they'll have to miss each other this time." His tone was full of regret.

"Ah, that's 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?"