Chapter Seventy-three: Audition Examiner

Police station.

Zhang Tie sat in the interrogation room, miserable and on the verge of tears.

“Speak up, why did you secretly film him? And even broadcast it live?!”

Zhang Tie was at a loss, but this was no time for self-pity. He knew that if he didn’t explain himself well, he might truly end up behind bars.

Carefully choosing his words, Zhang Tie said, “I was streaming, and the author Liu Sanyu was wearing a mask and sunglasses. Both the viewers and I were curious about what Liu Sanyu looked like!”

“So, I made a bet with the audience. If I could capture Liu Sanyu’s real face, they promised to send me gifts!”

“That’s all there is to it. I never expected that Liu Sanyu would turn out to be Jiang Yun!”

“Do you understand that this constitutes an infringement of portrait rights and personal privacy? And since the victim is a public figure, the crime is even more serious. Do you have anything else to say?”

“I…” Zhang Tie was speechless.

“Sigh—” He sighed, thought for a moment, and said, “I have nothing more to say!”

“Hmph!”

The officer went to the other side. “Mr. Jiang Yun, that’s the situation. He didn’t mean any harm. What do you think…”

Jiang Yun crossed his arms, face expressionless. “That’s not acceptable. He profited from my image—that’s a crime.”

“We understand, but…”

Jiang Yun said, “Don’t let him off lightly. Otherwise, he’ll never learn his lesson.”

“All right!”

In the end, Zhang Tie was fined fifty thousand yuan as compensation for Jiang Yun’s loss of reputation. He was also subjected to criticism and education, but Jiang Yun did not pursue the matter further.

And so it ended.

Police station.

“This is the first time I’ve seen a man secretly photographed!”

“Who hasn’t? Really eye-opening!”

Zhang Tie and Jiang Yun walked out of the station.

“Mr. Jiang Yun, you haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“Hmph!”

Jiang Yun snorted coldly. “No need for you to treat me.”

The incident left Jiang Yun with a shadow. Afterwards, every time he went to the restroom, he would look up to check if anyone was above.

This event left a direct scar on Jiang Yun’s psyche.

Meanwhile, something began to ferment online.

After returning home, Jiang Yun tidied up briefly and then fell into a deep sleep.

The next day, Jiang Yun was trending at the top of the hot search.

Shock! Jiang Yun’s other identity!

Shock! The platinum online author Liu Sanyu is actually him!

Shock! Jiang Yun’s white backside!

Shock! Jiang Yun caught on camera in the restroom!

The first two headlines were tolerable, but the last two were so outrageous that Jiang Yun’s nose almost twisted with anger.

The website serializing Jiang Yun’s “Racing Horses Across the Firmament” seized the opportunity to bask in the limelight.

As a result, both of Jiang Yun’s serialized novels broke through their original circles, and the number of readers soared again.

Readers flocked to reward Jiang Yun’s new book, but unfortunately, he had already closed the reward function.

Zhang Yi sat in front of his computer, amazed. “Who would have thought Liu Sanyu was Jiang Yun!”

He had seen Jiang Yun’s real profile before and knew Liu Sanyu’s pen name was Jiang Yun, but never connected him with the singer Jiang Yun.

Jiang Yun brought a surge of traffic to Zhang Yi’s work website.

As a result, the site where Zhang Yi worked exploded in popularity.

Jiang Yun put the matter behind him and didn’t pay it any more mind.

“Boss!” Li Lulu came into Jiang Yun’s office, holding her computer.

“What is it?”

“The ‘Racing Horses Across the Firmament’ crew invited you to be the casting judge!”

“Agree to it.”

“Understood!”

Over the next couple of days, Jiang Yun first recorded the fifth episode of “Yearning for Life,” then Mao Yi went to participate in “Happy Little Camp.”

The next day, Jiang Yun flew to Hengdian.

After landing, a Bentley stopped in front of him. “Are you Mr. Jiang Yun?”

Jiang Yun nodded and got into the Bentley.

The driver started the car and drove off.

When they arrived, it was a film set. Jiang Yun looked around at the equipment, naming each item easily, not at all bewildered.

Director Liu Guoqiang from the “Racing Horses Across the Firmament” crew stepped out to greet him. “Mr. Jiang Yun, it’s a pleasure!”

Jiang Yun remained composed and extended his right hand. “Hello, Director Liu!”

Liu Guoqiang also extended his hand and shook with Jiang Yun. “Hello, hello!”

Liu Guoqiang first hosted Jiang Yun, then began arranging for the auditioning actors to enter.

“Jiang Yun?”

“Chen Chi?”

Jiang Yun stood up and embraced Chen Chi. “Chen Chi, are you here to audition too?”

Chen Chi punched Jiang Yun lightly in the chest. “Impressive, Jiang Yun—I never knew you had another identity as a writer!”

Jiang Yun smiled modestly. “Heh, not at all!”

“By the way, you’re auditioning too?”

“Yes.” Chen Chi nodded. “Not just me—Deng Xin is here too!”

“Jiang Yun? Chen Chi?”

“Speak of the devil,” Chen Chi laughed.

Jiang Yun hugged Deng Xin, and the three chatted and joked.

“What? Yang Ying is here too? Auditioning for Medusa?”

Jiang Yun was speechless. If Yang Ying played Medusa, that would really be too much for the eyes.

“Senior Jiang Yun, I heard you’re the judge. Be sure to give me a green light!”

“Guan Tong? Nana?”

Jiang Yun was surprised. Nearly everyone he knew had gathered here.

They joked and chatted together.

Liu Guoqiang came out holding a loudspeaker. “We’re about to start. Please organize yourselves into orderly lines and enter the audition area.”

He beckoned Jiang Yun over.

“Sorry, everyone, I have to go.”

“Sure!”

Jiang Yun followed Liu Guoqiang into the studio, marveling at the equipment. He hadn’t expected movies to be shot right here.

Nowadays, real-location filming is rare; most scenes use studios and green screens. Of course, some less important daily scenes are still shot on location or built in the studio.

Jiang Yun sat behind the desk, with the assistant director and screenwriter beside him.

He sat next to Liu Guoqiang.

“You’ll help me evaluate later—which actors fit Xiao Yan’s character.”

“Of course!” Jiang Yun nodded.

“Let’s start.”

Thirty actors outside the studio walked in.

“You’ve all read the script, right?”

“Yes!”

“Now, organize yourselves spontaneously—form groups of two or three, assign roles, and select your scene to perform.”

“Understood!”

“You have ten minutes.”

The auditioning actors began to team up and prepare their chosen scenes.

Jiang Yun saw Chen Chi and Deng Xin pairing up and rolled his eyes.

Was this duo here to be comedians?

“Stop!”

Liu Guoqiang pointed at a group. “You can start your performance!”

Jiang Yun was speechless—it was none other than Chen Chi and Deng Xin’s group.

“Which scene are you performing?” the screenwriter asked.

“The engagement withdrawal!”

“Good, please begin.”

Deng Xin pulled Yang Ying over to make up numbers. Yang Ying had initially refused, insisting she was auditioning for Medusa, but couldn’t withstand Chen Chi and Deng Xin’s coaxing.

The three began their performance.

Deng Xin played Xiao Yan, Chen Chi played Xiao Zhan, Yang Ying played Nalan Yanran.

There were no props, just pure imaginary acting.

Deng Xin’s face twitched into a constipated expression. “Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—never underestimate a poor youth!”

“This isn’t a contract to dissolve the engagement, it’s my certificate of expulsion from the Xiao family!”

ps: Thanks to “Farewell on a Single Line One” for the donation of 100 Starting Coins!