Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Shang Xueyan thanked the girl, took the water, tilted his head back, and gulped down most of the bottle. Glistening droplets of water trickled from the corner of his lips. He casually wiped them away with a finger and tightened the cap of the mineral water bottle.

The girl stared at his face, her expression gradually turning serious. "Shang Xueyan, if the boss knew what you looked like, I doubt he’d let you wear a mascot suit to hand out flyers. Your face is way more eye-catching than this mascot suit."

Shang Xueyan laughed heartily. "Then call the boss right now."

The girl pretended to pick up her phone. "I’ll call him right away."

After chatting for a while, Shang Xueyan took a few minutes to rest, then put the mascot head back on and diligently continued his work.

By 5 p.m., his shift ended. When he took off the heavy mascot suit, he felt so light he could almost float. Since it was a day-rate job, he received 300 yuan in cash.

The arts training program didn’t provide dinner, so he found a noodle shop that didn’t look too expensive and ordered three liang of mixed sauce noodles. After paying the bill, Shang Xueyan planned to do food delivery next, working until one or two in the morning. With a bit of luck, he could probably earn another two to three hundred yuan.

Before he could even step out of the noodle shop, his phone rang—someone was calling him.

The caller was Wang Xiantao, a friend of the original host. After being blacklisted by his company, betrayed by close friends, and slandered by netizens who didn’t know the truth, the original host had become aimless and disheartened. After transmigrating into this life, Shang Xueyan set a small goal for himself: to get out of his contract. His bigger goal was to get famous, to make the name "Shang Xueyan" known to many.

Since his company wouldn’t provide him with any resources, Shang Xueyan could only audition for minor roles. Wang Xiantao, knowing his situation, had taken pity on him and introduced him to two acting opportunities. Wang Xiantao was an independent actor in the entertainment industry, with no fame or connections. He himself only managed to land minor roles in long dramas, and the roles he introduced to Shang Xueyan were just bit parts.

However, extras with lines and distinctive traits in the entertainment industry were paid fairly well—at least better than delivering food—and they also got screen exposure. Shang Xueyan had always been grateful to Wang Xiantao. Over the past three months of interaction, he had come to regard Wang Xiantao as a good friend.

Although he had inherited the original host’s memories, and the harm Jiang Lan had caused the original host felt like a scar etched into his body, Shang Xueyan believed that people like Jiang Lan—ungrateful and heartless—were rare. There had to be more warm-hearted brothers like Wang Xiantao.

"Shang Xueyan, are you free tonight?" Wang Xiantao’s voice was excited. "You know that casting director I met last month in Hengdian? He’s going to a dinner tonight. Rumor has it several directors and producers will be there, looking to cast actors for a new project. Want to come with me?"

Wang Xiantao added, "We’re not aiming for lead roles, but with some luck, we might land a small part. I heard one of the directors worked on 'Chronicles of the Storm.'"

'Chronicles of the Storm' was a hit male-targeted drama series from two years ago, which the original host had even followed.

"I’m free. Where are you? But… am I allowed to come?" Shang Xueyan asked.

Wang Xiantao gave him the location—a business clubhouse—and said, "Of course you can come. Brother Chen has gathered a dozen or so men and women to meet the directors. I showed him your photos and videos, and he said you have great potential. Who knows, you might even be chosen for an important role."

"Alright, I’ll head over right away."

"Dress sharp. Let’s try to leave a good impression on the directors."

"Don’t worry."

Shang Xueyan had originally planned to take his electric bike and then the subway to the club, but after his friend’s reminder and with time to spare, he hurried home. He took a shower, washed his hair, and changed into clean, fresh clothes.

Shang Xueyan currently lived in a cramped divided room in an old residential complex. The two-bedroom, one-living-room apartment had been converted into four rooms with no common area. Shang Xueyan’s room was originally part of the living room—a long, narrow space with a one-meter-wide single bed against the wall by the door. The remaining walkway was just wide enough for one person to pass through.

At the foot of the bed was a cheap plastic wardrobe Shang Xueyan had bought for 62 yuan on Pinduoduo. The living room window only had a narrow vertical strip in Shang Xueyan’s room, facing the wall of the opposite building. The room had almost no natural light; even at noon, he had to turn on the light to see clearly.

The original host had initially acted in short dramas, where the pay was already low. After signing with Tianli Entertainment, his salary for his first supporting role was also meager, and he sent most of it to the orphanage where he grew up.

Soon after, due to changes in the company’s management and Lu Han’s failed attempt to pressure him into a compromising situation, the original host was blacklisted and lost almost all his income. By the time Shang Xueyan transmigrated into his body, the original host had only 50 yuan left in his bank account.

At the time, the original host’s rental lease had expired, and Shang Xueyan had no choice but to find a cheap, dilapidated divided room to live in. He had wanted to move two months earlier, but Shen Mengkun’s younger sister was diagnosed with leukemia, so he lent all his savings to Shen Mengkun and had to continue living in the cramped space.

Anyway, he was rarely home during the day—only returning to sleep at night. Besides, things a thousand years in the future were indeed better. The mattress he bought for 126 yuan wasn’t much worse than the luxury goose-down bedding he slept on in his previous life.

Moreover, having lived in luxurious mansions in his past life, he found a sense of security in this small, confined bedroom.

Shang Xueyan unzipped the plastic wardrobe, which was missing two zipper teeth, and rummaged through his limited selection of clothes for a while. Finally, he settled on a beige hooded sweatshirt and black casual pants. He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times, stood in front of the 15-yuan full-length mirror he’d bought, adjusted his hair, and left satisfied.

The evening breeze brushed gently against him as he rode his second-hand electric bike to the subway station and took the train to the location Wang Xiantao had mentioned.

"Brother Chen, this is the friend I told you about, Shang Xueyan," Wang Xiantao said with a beaming smile as he introduced Shang Xueyan to Chen Ping.

Chen Ping looked Shang Xueyan up and down, his thick lips curling into a smile. "Alright, let’s go in. The Directors have already arrived."

Besides Shang Xueyan and Wang Xiantao, there were six or seven other tall, slender men and women in the lobby. Brother Chen addressed the group with a mix of kindness and authority, "The Directors are in the private room. Make sure you perform well later. Who knows, you might skyrocket to fame tomorrow. If you land a good role, you won’t have to keep playing extras anymore."

Wang Xiantao assured him, "Don’t worry, Brother Chen. We’ll definitely give it our best."

Chen Ping led the group upstairs. Wang Xiantao slung an arm over Shang Xueyan’s shoulder as they walked at the back of the crowd. "Bro, it’s only been half a month since I last saw you. How did you get even thinner?"

"Just trying to look better on camera," Shang Xueyan replied lightly, returning the gesture by placing his arm on Wang Xiantao’s shoulder.

"Cut the crap," Wang Xiantao said with a hint of envy. "With a face like yours, any style would suit you."

Shang Xueyan smiled.

The face he had in this life wasn’t exactly the same as the one from his previous life, but it was about 90 percent similar. The remaining 10 percent was due to him being slightly thinner now, but overall, it was still quite good.

As they chatted, they reached the door of the private room. Noticing that Wang Xiantao’s shoelace was untied, Shang Xueyan pointed at it. Wang Xiantao immediately let go of Shang Xueyan, bent down, and tied his lace.

Once Wang Xiantao was done, Shang Xueyan pushed open the half-closed door and gestured for him to enter. Wang Xiantao stepped in, and Shang Xueyan followed closely behind.

Just as Shang Xueyan stepped through the off-white door of the private room, the door of the room diagonally across was opened by a large, well-defined hand. The young man’s gaze fell upon the retreating figure of the boy two meters away, and his body froze for an instant.

But the boy who had entered the room didn’t look back, simply closing the door behind him. The off-white aluminum door cut off the young man’s lingering gaze. Shang Xianwang snapped back to reality, gripped his phone, and left the room.

Inside the private room, the lighting was dim and mottled. On the iron-gray leather sofas sat several middle-aged men with beer bellies, two of whom were balding.

Chen Ping, who had carried a confident demeanor earlier, now bent slightly to greet each of them, addressing them as "Boss" or "Director." When he turned to address the young actors, his tone became more commanding. "Everyone, make sure to chat and play games with the Directors and executives properly."

It was Shang Xueyan’s first time in a place like this, and he felt somewhat out of place. Wang Xiantao wasn’t entirely comfortable either, but he recognized one of the Directors as someone he had worked with before—though he had only played an expendable character in that series and doubted the Director would remember him.

Wang Xiantao grabbed a can of beer and sat down next to that Director.

Shang Xueyan hesitated for a moment, then chose a quiet corner to sit. He pulled out his phone, intending to find some clips from his audition tapes to show the Directors or producers later.

Even if he managed to land an important role, that scumbag Lu Han would shamelessly pressure the production team. But not every production would cave to such tactics. There was a chance he might meet a Director who appreciated his talent and wouldn’t kowtow to Lu Han. Moreover, if such a situation arose, it could work in his favor when he eventually went to court to terminate his contract.

Before he could decide which audition clip to show, the sofa beside him suddenly dipped. A middle-aged man in a white shirt sat down next to him.

The man was shorter than Shang Xueyan and had an average build, but when seated, he was almost at eye level with him. He wore a gentle smile and handed Shang Xueyan a glass of champagne. "What’s your name?"

Shang Xueyan had a good memory and recalled Chen Ping addressing this man as Director Xu earlier. "Director Xu, my name is Shang Xueyan."

Shang Xueyan reached out to take the champagne glass. As he did, the man’s stubby fingers brushed against the back of Shang Xueyan’s hand as if by accident.

Shang Xueyan’s brow furrowed slightly. He took a sip of the champagne, set the glass aside, opened the audition clip he had selected, and handed his phone to Xu Dakang.

"Director Xu, please take a look. This is a clip from one of my auditions—I was playing a refined scholar."

"Alright, let me see," Xu Dakang said, taking the phone.

Seeing him lower his head and focus on watching the clip, the uneasy feeling Shang Xueyan had slowly began to fade.

The audition clip was just two minutes long and finished in the blink of an eye. Shang Xueyan began explaining his strengths to the director, "Director Xu, I've also studied martial arts. If it's an action scene, I can definitely handle it. Besides, I’m skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—so period dramas would be a piece of cake for me."

Though Shang Xueyan’s skills in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting were only mediocre, this was an audition, and jobs were so hard to find. Wasn’t it only natural to exaggerate a little? That was a lesson Shang Xueyan had learned from experience.

Of course, focusing solely on his strengths in period dramas wasn’t enough—what if this director was shooting a modern drama?

"But I’ve also acted in plenty of modern dramas—brother roles, son roles, campus heartthrob, school bully, gangster, CEO’s assistant, corporate drone… I’ve done them all."

"Xiao Shang, I must say, your potential does seem quite promising," the man said with a smile.

Shang Xueyan’s whole body went rigid.

A chubby hand had landed on his thigh—not a light, casual touch. The man’s palm pressed down and squeezed slightly, then began moving upward, slipping under the hem of his hoodie.

"I do have a role here that would suit you perfectly..."

Damn, another disgusting creep!

Disgust rose in Shang Xueyan’s throat. Seeing the old man’s lecherous gaze, he grabbed the champagne flute from the coffee table and swiftly splashed the entire contents onto the man’s face.

The man was stunned. He wiped his wet face and roared angrily, "Shang Xueyan, are you fucking tired of living?"

Shang Xueyan’s eyes swept across the room. He saw a male producer sliding his hand inside a boy’s collar, and two others feeding each other alcohol mouth-to-mouth. Slowly, it dawned on him what kind of place he had walked into.

Chen Ping flusteredly handed Xu Dakang two tissues to wipe his face, then turned to Shang Xueyan in a rage. "Shang Xueyan, apologize to Director Xu right now! Do you even want to stay in this industry?"

Shang Xueyan turned to leave. He had come here looking for work opportunities, not to be groped by some creep.

He took a deep breath, thought about his current situation, and quickly muttered, "Director Xu, I’m sorry."

Without waiting to see the reactions of Xu Dakang or Chen Ping, he made up an excuse about having stomach pains and hurried out of the private room.

Once outside, away from the suffocating mix of clouds of smoke, alcohol, and men's heavy, unpleasant body odor, Shang Xueyan felt much better.

He had just descended the stairs and reached the lobby when a familiar voice called out from behind him—it was Wang Xiantao.

Shang Xueyan turned around, crossed his arms, and waited expressionlessly at the foot of the staircase.

Wang Xiantao, with his long legs, took the steps three at a time and reached Xueyan in seconds. He cursed and rubbed his arms. "Damn, Shang Xueyan, I had no idea it was that kind of party. If I’d known, I would never have asked you to come."

Wang Xiantao was equally disgusted, covered in goosebumps.

Shang Xueyan figured he really hadn’t known what kind of gathering it was. "It’s fine, not your fault. Are you going back in?"

"Go back? Hell no! I’m here to sell my talent, not my body."

Wang Xiantao slung an arm over Shang Xueyan’s shoulder. "Come on, I know a great barbecue spot in the alley up ahead. Their lamb skewers are amazing—my treat."

Lately, Shang Xueyan had been pinching pennies to make ends meet, too afraid to enter nicely decorated fast-food restaurants, let alone treating himself to barbecue.

Instantly, the disgust from the private room faded. By nature, Shang Xueyan was easygoing and optimistic, skilled at forgetting unpleasant memories and always seeking out hope and joy.

The two young men laughing and joking as they left the club. Meanwhile, Shang Xianwang sat in another private room in the same club. He had come that evening as a favor to a business partner to meet a supplier.

After discussing supply matters briefly, Shang Xianwang grew distracted. The image of the boy’s back he had seen when he opened the door earlier kept flashing through his mind.

His fingers trembled uncontrollably. That figure—the height, the shape of the back of the head—was exactly like A Yan’s.

"President Shang, you’re welcome to visit our factory sometime. We’ve recently introduced two new smart production lines..." the middle-aged man went on and on.

But Shang Xianwang suddenly stood up. The others in the room were startled, looking at him in confusion. Without explanation, he strode toward the door. His assistant, Wang, quickly hurried after him.

Shang Xianwang opened the door and went straight to the private room diagonally across the hall.

Inside, Chen Ping was entertaining the directors and producers, urging one of his young actors to dance. The door was abruptly pushed open. With the dazzling, shifting lights in the room, the newcomer’s face was hard to make out, but they could vaguely see he was exceptionally tall, with a commanding and imposing presence.

"Who the hell are you?" Chen Ping snapped.

Shang Xianwang reached out and switched on the main light on the wall, turning off the blaring music.

"Who the fuck are you? Get out now!" Chen Ping stood up and shouted.

Turning a deaf ear, Shang Xianwang walked closer to the sofa, his eyes scanning the people seated there.

On the outermost leather sofa sat a boy in an off-white hoodie, looking bewildered. His hair was jet black, his eyes large but single-lidded, his nose somewhat flat, and his lips bore no resemblance to the ones in Shang Xianwang’s memory. The boy was holding a champagne flute, about to feed it to the middle-aged man beside him.

Though he had expected it—even if the back was somewhat similar, it couldn’t possibly be him—having the reality confirmed so starkly shattered the faint glimmer of hope in Shang Xianwang’s heart. Once again, he felt as if his soul had been drained, leaving behind an empty shell.