Chapter 30: The Audition
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In June, in Hangzhou, Shen Yan walked out of Huace to meet Ji Xiang’s questioning gaze and sighed.
“No chance.”
“...That’s normal. Wasn’t the role already decided internally?”
“...True enough.” Shen Yan glanced at the time. “Shall we find somewhere to eat?”
“Sure!”
Ji Xiang drove them straight to a restaurant.
They had come to Huace to audition for The Sword of the Flying Dagger.
They had never held out much hope. Since they had been invited anyway, they figured they might as well give it a try.
The series was part of the three-project contract Huace had signed with Chen Chuhe: The Sword of the Flying Dagger, Three Daughters of the Xia Family, and The Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre.
They had already returned from Changsha.
After spending roughly half a month in their hometown, they went back to Beijing, finished recording the EP, and came directly to Hangzhou.
The EP was titled Shen Yan and contained five songs: “Light,” “Galloping Horses,” “A Little,” “Better to Go Home and Drink Tap Water,” and “Mountains and Seas.”
It had not been released yet.
In truth, even if it were released, it would not make them much money.
That was perfectly normal. Guo Ding, after all, had released his album Slightly in 2009, yet its lead single, “The Two of Us,” did not become popular until 2024.
Once Shen Yan became famous, people would probably start paying attention to the EP.
In any case, he was not in a hurry.
Oh, and Shen Yan had changed his hairstyle as well, cutting it into a short military-style crop.
He had lost some of the youthful awkwardness of adolescence, but gained a hint of mature charm.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Ji Xiang tried to comfort him.
“Actually, wuxia dramas have been gradually declining over the past two years. Apart from The Legend of Chu Liuxiang, most television adaptations of Gu Long’s works have been fairly mediocre.”
“...Brother, I’m not discouraged. I was just wondering what else I could act in besides wuxia dramas.”
Ji Xiang thought for a moment.
“In recent years, two genres have been particularly popular. One is spy dramas, and the other is urban youth dramas like Struggle.”
“There aren’t many well-made urban youth dramas.”
Ji Xiang nodded. “Only Zhao Baogang really knows how to make them.”
Struggle, Who Rules My Youth, Beijing Youth...
Zhao Baogang was indeed formidable.
Of course, he also had access to considerable resources.
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But several directors of his generation, including Gao Xixi, Hu Mei, and Jin Tao, were no longer what they had once been.
Among the urban youth dramas Shen Yan knew, there were Struggle, The Naked Marriage Era, and Beijing Love Story.
And that was about it.
After all, those series belonged to a distant era by modern standards.
As for spy dramas, there were Lurk, Before Dawn, The Brink, and Infiltration.
But that genre was practically tailored for middle-aged male actors.
Shen Yan had watched The Disguiser, Sparrow, and The Disguiser of Greatness.
The original novel of Sparrow had actually been quite good. Unfortunately, Hai Fei, who was both its screenwriter and original author, had been far too long-winded. He had stretched a forty-episode story into seventy-one episodes and stuffed it with a huge amount of romance, completely diluting the central theme.
Of course, a spy drama could contain romance.
But it could not consist of romance alone.
Shen Yan glanced at Ji Xiang.
“Brother, what if I came up with a decent spy-drama script? Could you find a director and get it made?”
“You can get your hands on a script?”
“...I write for a living.”
“But you can’t play the lead. You’re too young.”
“Then we can give it a more idol-oriented flavor. Anti-Japanese dramas can add wuxia elements, so why can’t spy dramas add a little idol appeal?”
“...Tell me more.”
Shen Yan proceeded to describe the story of The Disguiser.
Even after condensing it into a rough outline, they talked for more than half an hour.
After hearing the story, Ji Xiang nodded.
“Sounds good. Can you make it more specific?”
Shen Yan took a sip of water, then shook his head firmly.
“No. I only have the outline. I haven’t started writing it yet.”
“You mean something you’re working on? An online novel?”
“No. Besides The Great Lord, I accepted a commission from Wuxia World. I’m writing a new martial-arts novel called Bandits.”
Ji Xiang frowned.
“You still have time to write another novel?”
“Since I already promised them, I have to follow through.” After a pause, Shen Yan added, “It’s like the offer for Living Buddha Ji Gong. They were only paying five thousand yuan, but I had already agreed to it, so I still had to go.”
“Fine. It’s your business. Handle it however you see fit.” Ji Xiang gave him a reminder. “We’re going to Hengdian later. Perform well.”
“Absolutely.”
Yes, he was going to audition for Ying Wuqiu in The Vigilante One Plum Blossom.
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...
Ying Wuqiu was a villain, but also a tragic figure.
His original name was Bao Laiying. He had once been a simple, honest, and straightforward man. He was neither a peerless martial hero nor a brilliant scholar. He had no grand ambition to pacify the realm, nor any greedy desire for fame or wealth.
He was merely an ordinary farmer who wanted, through his own efforts, to give the woman he loved, Ruyi, a carefree and happy life.
But fate had other plans. After her father was brutally murdered, leaving behind only a blood-written accusation, he and Ruyi embarked on a long road to seek justice.
He ran himself ragged for her, knelt for her, and endured humiliation for her.
Yet even all that was no match for Li Gexiao, the hero who came to the beauty’s rescue. Li Gexiao was a hero, while he was nothing more than a lowly passerby.
But it did not matter. As long as Ruyi was well, that was enough.
On the night of her wedding, he smiled as he entrusted Ruyi to Li Gexiao. The searing liquor slid down his throat like poison burning through his entrails.
He had handed the woman he loved to another man with all his hopes in his heart, only to see her corpse in the end.
When Li Gexiao was being hunted, Ruyi used herself as bait to buy him time.
Captured by Yan Song’s men, she was imprisoned in the imperial dungeon and tortured to death.
Ying Wuqiu blamed Ruyi’s death on Li Gexiao. If not for him, Ruyi would never have been dragged into the struggle.
Of course, The Vigilante One Plum Blossom had virtually nothing to do with actual history. During the Jiajing reign, Yan Song and his son Yan Shifan occupied a position somewhat comparable to He Shen’s during the Qianlong reign. Both men were exceptionally talented and wielded power throughout the imperial court.
But Yan Song was mainly famous for his reputation. If one were to rank history’s most notorious corrupt officials, he probably would not even make the top ten.
After all, during the years he held power, the Ming dynasty did not suffer any particularly notorious atrocities.
As for the famous weightlifting champion of the Great Ming—the man who supposedly carried the empire’s two capitals and thirteen provinces upon his shoulders—that was his son, the “Little Grand Secretary,” Yan Shifan.
Wuxia stories cannot withstand close scrutiny. Their logic is riddled with holes, including even the pinnacle of New Wuxia, New Dragon Gate Inn.
Cao Shaoqin was the eunuch in charge of the Eastern Depot and the chief seal-holder of the Directorate of Ceremonial. Why would he go to such lengths to pursue Zhou Huai’an for thousands of miles?
Yan Song... What could one do? The man was simply too famous.
Folk legends about him abound. There is even one claiming that he was miserly. On his deathbed, he saw that the oil lamp had two wicks burning, and because of that he could not bring himself to die. He raised two fingers, indicating the two wicks, hoping his family would remove one of them.
Damn it, that story clearly came from The Scholars, where it concerned Yan Jiansheng, yet somehow people managed to pin it on Yan Song as well. One had to admire the audacity.
After reading The Vigilante One Plum Blossom, Shen Yan had developed quite a liking for the role of Ying Wuqiu.
Unfortunately, securing the part would not be easy.
After all, he was a complete newcomer—and had no formal acting background.
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