Chapter Three

“How’s Ni’er doing?”

No sooner had they stepped outside than Jane Pearl eagerly asked.

Meng Kaiyan, unusually unsettled for her age but with a hint of excitement on her face, waited until they reached an empty stairwell before saying, “I think it’s okay, but I don’t think my role is going to be the clever young girl.”

“Then who will you play?”

“I don’t know.” Meng Kaiyan was curious too.

Meng Minghai exhaled, offering reassurance: “Whether we get chosen or not, no matter who you play, we just have to do our best. There are things beyond our control—worrying too much only causes pain.”

Jane Pearl muttered, “That sounds easy. But this time, it’s different. It’s a big director and many veteran actors. They’re clearly aiming for a top-quality production.”

Meng Kaiyan said nothing. She was pondering Director Jiang’s intentions, mentally reviewing all the female roles in the original novel, gradually forming a guess.

The auditions weren’t over yet. As time passed, the candidates grew more impatient, fearing the interviewers would lose patience.

Jiang Baiyang stifled a yawn and interviewed three more people. After a sixteen-year-old girl left, he threw his script aside, leaned back in his chair, tilted his head, and asked Gu Qian behind him, “What did Sister Qun and Director Chen say? Who’s in?”

Fang Qun was the female lead of this drama, what would be called the “Da Qingyi” role in domestic terms.

She debuted early, starring as the lead at just twenty when her first major drama aired. Early on, when the internet wasn’t widespread, she gained fame mainly through satellite TV. Now, over a decade later, she’s an established veteran with several hit dramas under her belt and considerable standing in the industry.

Yet recent years hadn’t been kind. Due to incidents with co-actors, none of her hard-worked dramas aired smoothly. As both investor and lead, Fang Qun was worried about more trouble on set and began intervening in key casting decisions.

Because the young clever girl role had significant scenes, she paid special attention to casting it.

Gu Qian didn’t answer directly but sent the audition footage of the girl just interviewed to Fang Qun and Director Chen. Then she said, “Numbers 3, 18, and 21; no comments on the others.”

Just then, a notification sounded. Gu Qian looked down and said, “Oh, Sister Qun also said number 25—the girl with the braided pigtails—is good. Director Chen thinks she’s not bad either.”

Jiang Baiyang impatiently flipped through the files, then after a moment’s thought told his assistant, “No need to see more for the clever girl. Since Sister Qun is satisfied with number 21, that’s the one.”

Gu Qian asked, “What about number 25? Director Chen likes her.”

Jiang Baiyang shook his head: “Number 25 is very talented—she’s the standout among these. I want her to play Cui Cui.”

Gu Qian was surprised: “Cui Cui?”

Jiang Baiyang asked, “You think she’s too young?”

Gu Qian nodded. Cui Cui appeared later in the script; she’s the clever girl’s niece. Although she’s eighteen when introduced, her scenes extend to age twenty-two, and her character is quite complex.

Jiang Baiyang straightened up: “Sixteen is enough. Cui Cui returns after being lost; she’s thin and slight, which fits. Makeup will mature her look later.”

With that, he continued the auditions.

Outside the door, Meng Kaiyan didn’t dare leave, standing in a corner, her eyes occasionally glancing toward the door.

Beside her, Jane Pearl grew increasingly uneasy, twisting her fingers nervously. She bumped Meng Minghai’s elbow, lowered her brow, and whispered, “Go ask Old Wang. It’s been nearly two hours. He said we could stay—why no news yet?”

Meng Minghai glanced at his watch: “Don’t rush. There are just a few left. If you get the role, waiting a couple of days is nothing.”

He patted her gently. “Even the kids have more patience than you.”

Jane Pearl took a few deep breaths, managing to quell the restlessness in her heart.

They blamed the office building. Maybe it was short on funds, the air conditioning in the corridor was blasting cold.

As time passed, the surroundings grew quieter.

—

Soon, the last candidate emerged from the room. Meng Kaiyan couldn’t help but show anticipation.

Sure enough, not long after, Gu Qian opened the door and called out to those in the hallway: “Numbers 3, 7, 18, 21…”

Meng Kaiyan’s breath caught.

“25, 36, 49, 52, and 64,” Gu Qian continued. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting. Aside from these, the rest can leave.”

Jane Pearl beamed, wrapping her arm around Meng Kaiyan. “Ni Ni, this time it’s you.”

In the conference room, Jane Pearl read the contract carefully, then uncapped her pen and signed her name.

Gu Qian collected one copy and instructed, “Someone will add you on WeChat. You’ll get information about Kaiyan’s start date and other details there.”

Jane Pearl replied, “Okay, thank you, Miss Gu.”

“No problem. See you another day.”

The sun set, darkness fell.

The fiery sunset reflected on the river, shimmering gold, drawing many photographers with their cameras to the riverside to capture the beauty.

The car crossed the bridge. Meng Kaiyan leaned against the window, the river view segmented by the cable stays into frames like a giant movie screen.

She made up her mind: she would portray Cui Cui well.

—

Immersing oneself in a role is a strange process.

Meng Kaiyan refused Jane Pearl’s suggestion to get an acting coach. Instead, she read the original novel repeatedly, then stayed alone in her room, standing before the mirror, trying to transform herself into Cui Cui.

What kind of person was Cui Cui?

At four, she was abducted while out herding sheep with her aunt, the clever girl. When her aunt found her again, she was eighteen.

By some stroke of fortune, during the years she was missing, Cui Cui hadn’t suffered much.

She was rescued by the police on a train and, unable to clearly say where she was from, was adopted by a childless teacher couple in the city.

Between ages four and twelve, she lived a happy life.

But at twelve, she faced a second turning point—the death of her adoptive mother dealt a huge blow, and her adoptive father’s remarriage was a second.

Cui Cui’s life grew difficult again; the hardships made her personality sharp. The novel described her as a prickly hedgehog.

Looking at herself in the mirror, the calm in Meng Kaiyan’s eyes faded. Her brows furrowed, her gaze sharpened.

“No…” she murmured after staring at her reflection for a few seconds.

She thought deeply, her eyes growing more guarded. Her facial muscles tensed further.

Still unsatisfied, Meng Kaiyan felt she should lose some weight. Cui Cui must be thin, a resilient blade of grass—not a lush flower.

Yang Suye, a teacher from the troupe, once told her that the initial stage of creation is imitation.

Not imitation of similar artists, but of specific, real people. This requires keen observation.

For example, when playing a blind person, many actors study how blind people live and behave to shape the character. Frankly, if you capture even half the essence, the character stands.

If you glimpse the blind person’s inner desires and spirit, you bring the role alive.

—

If you can’t meet such people, then you must watch documentaries.

Meng Kaiyan turned on her computer and searched for relevant documentaries.

Unable to find exactly the right type, she watched several that were somewhat related.

A month passed, and Meng Kaiyan was like possessed.

Her demeanor changed; she walked with a straighter back, and her speech adopted Cui Cui’s regional accent.

Even Jane Pearl and Meng Minghai noticed something was off.

Jane Pearl eyed Meng Kaiyan up and down, nodding: “You look quite like her. I forgot exactly who, but many hateful characters on CCTV-8 are just like you now.”

Meng Minghai added, “Yeah, you seem like her. I’m afraid you’ll snap at me next.”

Meng Kaiyan laughed: “That means I’m in the right state to play Cui Cui.”

There are many child stars in the country now, plenty of actresses her age. Without an agency, one must excel in acting so directors and co-actors remember you, and think of you for future roles.

Jane Pearl had already added the production coordinator Feng Yuanyi on WeChat. Early that morning, Feng sent a message saying Meng Kaiyan could join the crew tomorrow.

In fact, the drama had started filming ten days ago. Meng Kaiyan checked the crew list on Weibo. It was, to put it mildly, extremely “luxurious.” It was among the top domestic TV productions, clearly aiming to be a major, high-quality drama.

With the shoot starting tomorrow, Meng Kaiyan had to set off today.

Jane Pearl said, “Don’t pack too much—two or three outfits will do. Feng Yuanyi said your scenes are concentrated and can be finished in about half a month. I’ve already asked the school for leave. But there’ll probably be some reshoots later; we can ask for leave again then.”

Meng Kaiyan nodded and quickly packed.

Half a month was the longest shoot she’d done so far.

Meng Minghai had to work, so only Jane Pearl accompanied Meng Kaiyan to the set.

The studio was nearby—in Nanjing—which was very convenient.

Mother and daughter took the high-speed train at noon and arrived at two in the afternoon.

“This is your room and Jane’s—two beds. Let’s exchange WeChat; if you have any questions, you can message me,” a staff member said.

Jane Pearl glanced at the room and nodded, “Okay.”

After they left, she took a closer look and said, “The studio has money. Ni’er, how big do you think the leads’ rooms are?”

Meng Kaiyan thought carefully: “They must be suites.”

Jane Pearl sighed with envy, “No wonder everyone’s desperate to get into this circle.”

They rested for a day. The next morning, Jane Pearl took Meng Kaiyan to the set.

Her role was small, so she was taken straight to makeup—no trial makeup session.

Meng Kaiyan had lost about eight pounds in the last month. Once made up, she looked truly gaunt.

“Not bad, very much like Cui Cui,” director Chen Man nodded, clearly pleased with Meng Kaiyan. The resemblance was evident, showing real effort.

Chen Man, known for her tough demeanor, was somewhat gentle with the young girl. After examining Meng Kaiyan, she patted her and said kindly, “Go wait outside. It’ll be your turn soon.”

Meng Kaiyan softly responded, obediently stepping out.

After about ten minutes, the female lead Fang Qun finally appeared.