After finishing his meal, Song Shi'an tossed the empty food container into a trash can and began sneaking around the set like a furtive dog, looking for the assistant director.
He weaved through the crowd and nearly tripped over a coil of cable on the ground.
He had barely regained his footing when an irate roar came from nearby.
"Walking out halfway through filming! Just wonderful! Now we have to find someone else and reshoot!" A middle-aged man in a baseball cap was yelling at an assistant, nearly spraying spit onto his face. "And what kind of people have you found me? You bring these crooked melons and split dates in front of me? Any random passerby off the street would be better than these!"
Song Shi'an followed his gaze. Three or four people stood in front of the assistant director, probably there to audition for the guard role.
He took a closer look. They seemed all right. Surely they weren't that bad.
The assistant director clearly disagreed. He waved impatiently, preparing to pick any one of them and make do.
Seeing this, Song Shi'an gritted his teeth. He couldn't worry about all that now. If he didn't step forward, this role would fly away.
He took a deep breath, lowered his head, and charged over.
"Hello! I'm here to audition!"
The assistant director was flipping through actor profiles. Without looking up, he asked his assistant, "There's someone else?"
The assistant looked bewildered. "I don't know..."
The assistant director's expression darkened further, and he snapped coldly, "Do you realize you're late? You can't even turn up on time for an audition. Where are your manners? Lift your head."
Song Shi'an raised his head. His hair was too long, hanging down over most of his face, and he could only make out the assistant director's blurry outline through the gaps.
The assistant director frowned. "Are you playing a masked superhero? Push your hair up."
Song Shi'an obediently parted his loose hair to either side, revealing his entire face.
The assistant director sucked in a breath, so long and deep that he seemed about to drain all the air around them.
He stared at Song Shi'an with wide eyes, speechless for a long while.
His stare made Song Shi'an uneasy. It's over. He isn't going to reject me, is he?
The system had already matched him. If he didn't complete it, he would have to do one extra cannon fodder role. He would cry himself to death when he went home tonight.
In his anxiety, he lost control of his expression. The corners of his mouth drooped, his brows drew together slightly, and his eyes brimmed with a longing that said, "Please, please don't reject me."
To the assistant director, that expression looked like a large dog drenched in the rain, so aggrieved that it made his heart falter.
The assistant director instinctively glanced down at his hands, checking that he hadn't done anything that offended heaven and reason.
Beside him, the assistant whispered, "Director Zhang... I think he's pretty good..."
The assistant director rolled his eyes at him. By the time he turned back to Song Shi'an, he was wearing a smile, and even his voice had softened considerably. "Young man, you've got a lot going for you."
Before Song Shi'an could react, the assistant director had pulled a script from beside him and handed it over. "Interested in looking at another role? This young marquis doesn't appear until later. He's the fifth male lead, with quite a few scenes. Far better than the guard."
The extras beside them who had come to audition nearly popped their eyes out. They had stood here for half an hour without the assistant director even giving them a proper look, yet the moment this man arrived, he practically shoved the fifth male lead into his hands.
Song Shi'an looked down at the script, and his heart lurched.
The fifth male lead. An important supporting character, not cannon fodder. He couldn't take this.
"Director Zhang, I'd better pass. I'm not right for it." He pushed the script back. "I just want to play this guard."
The assistant director's smile froze.
"Do you know how hard other people have to work to get a good role?" His tone grew grave, filled with the anguish of someone frustrated that iron refused to become steel. "Now the opportunity is right in front of you, and you're saying no? Tell me why."
Song Shi'an opened his mouth, almost bursting into tears. He wanted to take it too. The fifth male lead-who wouldn't want to play that?
But what could he say? That he had a system in his head, and playing a lead would deduct cannon fodder roles and send him into the negatives? He could only say, "I just... think the guard is a pretty good role. I'd like to try it."
The assistant director looked at him as though asking, "Is there something wrong with your brain?"
He was just about to continue trying to talk sense into him when the director sent someone over to hurry him along.
"Director Zhang! Have you picked the guard yet? They're about to start filming!"
The assistant director gritted his teeth and tucked the script under his arm. "Fine, give it a try first. Hair and makeup! Over here! Take him away. Hurry!"
The instant he finished speaking, two people appeared from who knew where, hooked Song Shi'an under either arm, and dragged him toward the makeup tent.
Inside the makeup tent, the stylist was a woman in her thirties with scissors and a comb hanging around her neck. She circled him once, reached out to brush his hair aside, and asked, "Can I cut your hair? It's too long. The wig won't fit later."
Song Shi'an thought a free haircut sounded absolutely perfect.
He had been worrying about not having money for a haircut. His hair had grown long enough to poke his eyes, but he was afraid his clumsy hands would butcher it if he cut it himself. He hurriedly nodded.
The stylist swept his hair up and turned to stone.
Her assistant walked over carrying a makeup case, followed her gaze, and crumbled into dust too.
The tent fell silent for about three seconds.
The stylist took a deep breath and, in an extremely restrained tone, voiced what everyone present was thinking. "Holy shit!"
With a god-tier face like that, what exactly was this guy hiding?
His brow bones were high and sweeping, his eye sockets slightly deep-set, his irises as black as deep pools.
His nose bridge extended straight from between his brows to the tip, its curve so perfect it looked as though it had been calibrated by data.
His lips were neither thin nor full, their corners naturally tilting slightly upward, as though he were always smiling-or beckoning someone closer.
The contours of his entire face were clean and sharp, the proportions of bone structure and features utterly perfect.
With a cold expression, he looked like an unapproachable work of art. When he smiled, his brows and eyes curved, and all that distance instantly crumbled.
The stylist had worked in the industry for thirteen years and spent many of them doing celebrities' makeup. What god-tier face hadn't she seen? Yet this one truly was one of a kind.
"Leave your hair to me. I'll cut it." Her tone became unusually solemn, as though she were accepting some sacred mission. "Don't move. Not even a little."
The scissors snipped, and loose hair fluttered down.
Her hands moved swiftly and steadily. The jet-black strands turned a few times between her fingers, and a neat short hairstyle took shape.
Distinctly layered, clean and fresh, it left a few wisps lightly parted over his forehead, revealing his entire bright, open face.
He looked like an entirely different person from the mushroom spirit whose long hair had hidden his face just moments before.
Song Shi'an looked in the mirror, utterly satisfied. At last, his hair wouldn't poke his eyes anymore.
The stylist stared at his face for another few seconds, sighed, then picked up the liquid foundation and began applying it to his face.