As it turned out, even characters in a melodrama could not argue for twelve hours straight without a break. They needed to eat, stroll in the garden, take short naps, and even have some time to themselves, as though the script's emotional tension also needed a moment to breathe. The heated arguments in the hall gradually subsided, but the conflicts between the characters did not seem to fade with time. Even in silence, a faint cloud of gloom seemed to hang over the living room.
Su Bai, the gardener, leaned against a nearby wall and stretched his shoulders in boredom. In his opinion, no matter how "domineering" a CEO in the Real World might be, he could not devote himself full-time to melodramatic antics. He would at least set aside some time for work-perhaps handling paperwork or making a few calls about mergers and acquisitions. Here, however, these fictional characters were firmly bound by the script and had no work to do at all.
In short, soap operas were like soap bubbles: dazzling yet hollow. Though the plot seemed absurd and laughable, the script kept Lian Xiangyu and the others running in circles all day. Time's pendulum swung slowly onward, and when the old wall clock in the hall let out a deep "dong-dong," the first day of auditions finally came to an end. At the same time, that voice, neither male nor female and speaking with a peculiar inflection, rang in Su Bai's and the others' ears again, like an invisible cold wind brushing their spines.
"Actors, the first day of auditions has ended."
As those words rang out, Lian Xiangyu, Shen Dong'er, and Ning Yi, who had still been arguing in the hall a moment before, froze as though someone had pressed pause. Their bodies stiffened where they