Chapter 8: Audition

The next morning at eight o’clock.

Liu Wan arrived early by car to pick up Jiang Shumo for the audition at East Road.

“Yawn—”

Jiang Shumo had been yawning nonstop ever since getting into the car. She’d stayed up late scrolling through Weibo until three in the morning before finally sleeping, and now she’d been dragged out of bed bright and early by Liu Wan. She was incredibly drowsy right now.

Liu Wan had wanted to bring up what had happened online yesterday, but seeing the dark circles under her eyes, she swallowed those depressing words. “…How prepared are you for this audition?”

“I’ve got this.”

Jiang Shumo lied without the slightest hesitation. Privately, she poked the System: “It’s all on you later.”

She couldn’t act at all. Professional work required a professional touch.

System: “……”

This woman’s skin was thicker than a city wall!

But helplessly, it knew Jiang Shumo had no other options. Someone without any acting training couldn’t possibly nail an audition, no matter how frantically they crammed.

Humans weren’t like system programs, which could simply load data to gain new functions. Humans needed tons of study and practice to gradually master a new skill.

It only had itself to blame for picking the wrong host. It never should have bound itself to a company executive—an actual actor would have been the perfect partner.

The System couldn’t help fuming at itself. Why hadn’t it held back from contracting with Jiang Shumo?

After waiting half a day with no response from the System, Jiang Shumo assumed it had gone offline. She was just about to poke it again when she heard the System mutter sullenly: “…I can handle the acting for you, but you have to seriously complete the tasks I assign.”

Jiang Shumo: “!”

Now that was more like it!

Her eyes lit up. “Of course! You can count on me.”

Today, she wouldn’t call it the retard System anymore. Dummy System it was!

…

East Road Film and TV Building, 23rd Floor Audition Hall.

“We’ll notify you of the audition results.”

The staff member courteously opened the door, seeing off the auditioning actor and waiting for the casting team’s cue for the next round.

The producer turned to the middle-aged man seated in the center. “What do you think of her?”

The middle-aged man—Director You Xin of <i>Mountains and Rivers Eternal Peace—wore an unpleasant expression. He didn’t hold back: “Did she even finish nine years of compulsory education? Anyone with half a brain knows this calls for furious laughter. With a grin that wide, why doesn’t she go do comedy sketches on the Spring Festival Gala?”

What kind of garbage performances were these?

The producer had collaborated with him early in his career and was well acquainted with his foul temper. He took the comment in stride. “No problem. There are still about ten more waiting outside. We’ll find someone who fits.”

You Xin rolled his eyes at that. He wasn’t stupid—did they think he couldn’t see what was going on with these auditions?

It was all because Jiang Shumo had muscled her way in, insisting on auditioning. East Road couldn’t force his hand, so they’d compromised with this audition session.

The actors trying out were either stiff as boards or couldn’t read the lines properly, missing every emotional cue. Even fresh drama school grads could wipe the floor with these benchwarmers, to say nothing of the idol drama queen Jiang Shumo.

Talk about East Road scraping the bottom of the barrel. Where had they dug up these oddballs?

The thought of Jiang Shumo reignited the anger churning in You Xin’s gut.

Sure, Jiang Shumo had earned her title as idol drama queen, meaning her looks were beyond reproach. But her acting topped out at maybe seventy out of a hundred—and that was in idol dramas. Serious dramas were a whole different beast; take that seventy out of its comfort zone, and it plummeted. Factor in her bad blood with the female lead, Yan Qingxu…

It didn’t take a genius to predict the set would turn into a circus!

You Xin just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Jiang Shumo had a good thing going in idol dramas—why stick her nose into <i>Mountains and Rivers Eternal Peace?

“With that personality of hers, hasn’t it occurred to you she might flake halfway through?”

You Xin couldn’t hold back any longer. “I wouldn’t mind a last-minute swap, but the rest of the cast might.”

Reshoots were manageable if schedules allowed—just throw money at it. But tight itineraries spelled disaster.

“Don’t worry about that. Let me give you the inside scoop—”

The producer glanced around, then leaned in toward You Xin and dropped his voice: “Jiang Shumo originally set her sights on the He Yunqing role. Even after learning you’d cast Yan Qingxu, she didn’t back down.”

He Yunqing was the female lead in <i>Mountains and Rivers Eternal Peace, the undisputed star of the show. Every other character, male lead included, existed to prop her up. And yet that role had gone to Yan Qingxu. For Jiang Shumo—with her level of resentment toward Yan Qingxu—to swallow a supporting part showed real commitment.

You Xin remained skeptical. Before he could respond, a knock sounded at the door.

“Miss Jiang has arrived.”

…

“Miss Jiang, you’re here early.”

The producer was mildly surprised, but he quickly mustered an appropriately warm smile. “Why don’t you take a seat and relax first? We’ll get started whenever you’re ready.”

All of today’s auditionees were nobodies. Someone of Jiang Shumo’s stature didn’t need to wait in line—she could jump in anytime she liked.

You Xin wasn’t thrilled about her involvement, but he played nice on the surface. “Miss Jiang, I assume you’ve read the original <i>Mountains and Rivers Eternal Peace?”

“Many times over.”

Jiang Shumo maintained her aloof air. Her own personality overlapped quite a bit with the original host’s, making the imitation effortless. “What would Director You like to know?”

The novel’s plot was burned into the original host’s memories—recalling it was a breeze for Jiang Shumo.

You Xin said, “Then tell us your take on the character Ming Zhao.”

Eldest Princess Ming Zhao was the role Jiang Shumo was up for, the unrepentant female villain through and through in <i>Mountains and Rivers Eternal Peace.

In your typical romance novel with a female lead, any woman cast as the antagonist usually schemed against the heroine out of unrequited love for the hero. But <i>Mountains and Rivers Eternal Peace was different. The Eldest Princess didn’t target the female lead for some romantic obsession—she did it to safeguard her power.

Ming Zhao possessed exceptional military talent, sweeping the battlefield undefeated. That success fueled her ambitions. The Late Emperor sensed the threat and prepared to relieve her of her command. She beat him to it, poisoning her own father and forging an imperial edict to install her timid, insecure younger brother on the throne. From there, she ruled from the shadows as Eldest Princess.

The Late Emperor’s abrupt death sparked suspicions among the court officials, including the heroine He Yunqing’s father, General He. Convinced of Ming Zhao’s involvement, he gathered evidence—only to be framed for treason. His entire family was executed, though He Yunqing survived thanks to a loyal servant taking her place. The two became bitter enemies.

Ming Zhao was vicious and unscrupulous, but she had a keen eye for talent. Spotting He Yunqing—disguised as a man—beside the male lead, she took an immediate liking to the girl’s sharp mind and tried to recruit her. Rejected, she went for the kill—not once, but twice, nearly ending He Yunqing’s life both times.

Her power struggle with Prince Jin grew ever fiercer until he obtained irrefutable proof of her regicide and forgery. Cornered, she marched troops on the palace. But He Yunqing and Prince Jin were ready for her; she played right into their trap and died pierced by a thousand arrows.

Nearly every scene featuring Ming Zhao in <i>Mountains and Rivers Eternal Peace highlighted her ruthless ambition, giving her a sharply defined personality.

“…Ming Zhao is brimming with ambition, willing to poison her own father for power. She’s decisive and venomous, yet impulsive and reckless…”

Jiang Shumo recited the original host’s analysis word for word, no hesitation.

You Xin kept his face neutral as he listened, but he nodded inwardly. This was spot-on for the Ming Zhao from the book—clearly, Jiang Shumo had put in the work.

The producer knew You Xin’s tells and could see he was impressed, which eased his own mind. Seizing the moment, he chimed in: “Miss Jiang, you’ve got a real grasp on the source material. I’m sure you’ll deliver something special in the audition.”

Testing the waters, he added: “Care to take a breather first? We can start whenever.”

Liu Wan started to nod, but Jiang Shumo cut in: “No need. I’m ready to go right now.”

Liu Wan: “!”

You Xin: “!”

Producer: “!”

Jumping straight in? That confident?

Luckily, the producer shook off his surprise in a heartbeat. He glanced at You Xin. “Well, since Miss Jiang is so eager, shall we dive right in?”

You Xin slid the script from the table toward Jiang Shumo. “Take a look at this scene. Let me know when you’re set, and I’ll read opposite you.”

Jiang Shumo glanced down. It was a confrontation between Ming Zhao and the Late Emperor.

Having detected her ambitions, the Late Emperor had summoned her to the imperial study, intending to strip her of her military authority. That was the moment killing intent bloomed in her heart—and she made her move, poisoning him.

“I’m ready.”

Jiang Shumo handed the script back with outward poise, while privately jabbing the System like mad: “Hurry hurry hurry—your big moment!”

System: “……Oh.”

“Ming Zhao personality shaping in progress…”

“Ding! New personality has taken over!”