Chapter 237: Where Did The Love In That Gaze Go?
“Yo, I thought it was someone else, turns out it’s Older Sister Leying. Sister, you’re here for the open audition, right? Got any roles you’re eyeing?”
The moment Tong Yulu encountered Chi Leying at the open audition site, the two were destined to trade a few barbs—arch-rivals are arch-rivals after all.
“Isn’t Younger Sister too?”
Chi Leying paused. “So you deliberately entered the comedy track a while back just to lay groundwork for this movie, huh? Truly far-sighted.”
Anyone else saying this might be praise, but from her mouth, it was 100% sarcasm. Tong Yulu gritted her teeth—this was poking fun at her abstract artist stuff.
She originally wanted to fire back directly, but the words caught in her throat and she swallowed them. Honestly, she always felt a bit inferior to Chi Leying now.
Ever since that re-lyricized version of “Youth” blew up at the Capital Concert, Chi Leying was red-hot beyond measure, even scoring a government gig.
Compared to her, Tong Yulu was worlds apart—not even in the same league. They used to be evenly matched, but now she had zero confidence.
True arch-rivals go toe-to-toe; now she probably didn’t even qualify as an opponent…
“Hmm?”
Her taking the initiative to back down completely caught Chi Leying off guard. Was this still Tong Yulu? Just letting it go like that?
Maybe she’d heard too much of the other’s cold mockery and sarcasm; oddly, she wasn’t used to this. Not getting roasted felt like something was missing.
While they were bickering, the afternoon open audition officially began. Yu Wei and several directors took their seats one after another. There weren’t many major female roles in Charlotte Troubles, so it wouldn’t take much time.
Qiu Ya’s outwardly pure but actually utilitarian persona suited Chi Leying pretty well, though the difference was that Chi Leying had her own savvy.
As for Ma Dongmei, she had some funny girl vibes, so Tong Yulu could give it a shot. Honestly, Yu Wei didn’t have high hopes for her, since the role required real acting skills later on.
Worth noting, Zhou Mumu was another old acquaintance, but he couldn’t get her for free—not because she refused, but because he lacked the right to speak.
Zhou Mumu’s management company wouldn’t yield an inch. Yu Wei couldn’t be bothered to haggle with them. If she doesn’t come, fine—plenty of regret for them once the movie airs.
He had also reached out to Teacher Meng Han and Su Xinnan for a few roles, but they were in Shanghai waiting for Music Blind Box to wrap up, so they couldn’t come yet.
It wasn’t a big deal anyway. Yu Wei had to head back the day after tomorrow to shoot the final two episodes of the program first. There was still time before the movie officially started shooting.
With only two major female roles, Qi Yunming simply let both of them in together—it’d make the read-through easier.
Seeing Tong Yulu and Chi Leying standing on opposite sides, Yu Wei actually wanted to laugh. Besides that variety show back then, these two probably hadn’t collaborated yet, right?
This movie was a rare chance to put the two arch-rivals in one nest. Yu Wei couldn’t wait to see their opponent scenes…
“First, talk about your understanding of the role.”
Qi Yunming was already dozing off. Hurry up and finish the open auditions, then hand full responsibility to Yu Wei with Peng Chao assisting from the side—he could finally rest for a while.
Tong Yulu was still organizing her thoughts, while Chi Leying confidently stepped forward, taking the initiative to demonstrate.
“Qiu Ya isn’t just a tokenized school belle. In her student days, she was a top student, the good kid in the teacher’s eyes, but she also knew how to leverage her own advantages.”
“Qiu Ya’s classic line: ‘It doesn’t matter if a man’s old and ugly, the key is that he has talent’—it’s not just said to Xia Luo, it’s her declaration of values. It seems realistic, but actually represents the helpless choices many make facing life.”
Her understanding of the role was thorough, even analyzing the core—this matched Qi Yunming perfectly.
But honestly, Qiu Ya was a bit one-dimensional; even overanalyzing wouldn’t yield much.
At least on the surface, she fit Qiu Ya well: oval face, willow-leaf brows. Add a school uniform, and her serene vibe would definitely be school belle level.
“Not bad. Little Deer, you go?”
Qi Yunming interrupted Tong Yulu, who was still silently phrasing things. They got the script at the same time—how could the gap between people be so huge?
Tong Yulu had actually prepared, but she was clearly a bit nervous. She wanted this role too badly; the more she cared, the more tense she got.
She’d soon terminate her contract, seamlessly joining the film crew. One hit to skyrocket to fame and straight into top stream status…
Besides the opportunities from the movie, the role hierarchy satisfied her too: herself as lead actress, her as second female lead—even someone as strong as Chi Leying could only play supporting.
Once the billing came out, her fans could clap back hard. A bit childish, but heir apparent battles had always been like that.
Called on, she could only steel herself and continue: “Ma Dongmei has a bold and straightforward personality—she’s the kind of girl who grabs a javelin and shouts to a gang of thugs, ‘Xia Luo, I’m here to save you!'”
“But beneath her hearty exterior hides a sensitive and persistent heart. In reality, she runs the household alone working three jobs; in the dream, she’s still persistent and brave—seems carefree, but actually sensitive.”
Tong Yulu wanted to emulate Chi Leying and analyze the role’s core, but after trying for a while with nothing, she decided to leave it there.
Better to say less and avoid mistakes—don’t flaunt understanding of something even she wasn’t sure about.
Still, this was enough. At least Tong Yulu had no major issues with role understanding; now it was about her acting skills.
Both came from talent shows—idol group stars’ acting probably wasn’t great…
As usual, Chi Leying went first for the performance test. She chose Qiu Ya’s reaction when facing Xia Luo’s question: “If I can’t write songs anymore, will you still love me?”
This scene captured Qiu Ya perfectly: she never loved Xia Luo, just his fame and benefits.
Chi Leying’s expression instantly grew complex.
She first forced a smile to mask her inner hesitation, her gaze flickering uncertainly, fingers unconsciously twisting together.
In those few short seconds of silence, she excellently conveyed Qiu Ya’s psychological struggle at that moment, weighing love against reality.
Finally, she dodged the main point: “Xia Luo, you’re a genius.”
But that evasive gaze had already revealed the truth.
Chi Leying’s acting was surprisingly good—clearly targeted practice. Emotions were a tad off, but expressiveness was sufficient.
As a hack, Yu Wei had no real thoughts on this scene. Personal encounters don’t need debunking: if Sun Wukong were just an ordinary monkey, would Tang Seng still love him? Such questions were pointless anyway.
As a web novel author, he knew better than to entertain such ideas—once the protagonist starts chasing self-fulfillment, the plot usually goes off the rails.
So many “ifs”—pure overthinking. Just live well, right? What, gonna stop living?
“Room for improvement, but not bad. Try to feel the role’s inner essence more.”
Qi Yunming gave a simple critique. Not much praise, but between the lines, it was clear: one sentence—you pass!
Pressure now on Tong Yulu. Even the supporting actress passed; if she wanted lead actress, she needed to show something.
She challenged the scene of Ma Dongmei cooking fennel sauce noodles for Xia Luo in the 40-square-meter small dwelling. But she didn’t get into character as quickly as Chi Leying, hesitating a moment before entering the state.
Tong Yulu’s expression gradually softened. She mimed picking up a pot, her actions skillfully adding noodles and seasoning—every move exuding real-life texture.
Not bad acting, but gesturing at thin air always felt a bit funny—probably because her funny girl image was so ingrained.
When she mimed serving the noodle bowl to the judges, her eyes held some warmth and expectation: “Eat it while it’s hot…”
Emotions were decent, but unfortunately Tong Yulu forgot her line. What was next—something about bad stomach, don’t drink, right?
The scene got awkward for a moment, but Qi Yunming didn’t nitpick details. Lines could be memorized later; today was mainly about role fit.
Overall, she did well—at least in that moment of serving the noodles, her eyes really had some warmth.
Just felt like something was still a bit off…
“Try another scene.”
Tong Yulu had advanced to round two. After all, as the film’s lead actress, even Qi Yunming had to be stricter.
This time she planned a campus scene: Ma Dongmei trying to imitate Qiu Ya but getting mocked as a clumsy copycat.
This was exactly what Yu Wei wanted to see. Little Chi, what are you waiting for—go partner up!
Performance began. This scene should have Ma Dongmei looking at Xia Luo with gentle shyness in her gaze, but Tong Yulu just couldn’t nail it—her eyes were empty.
Qi Yunming knew where she fell short: where was the love in her gaze? Tong Yulu’s performance completely lacked that sense of caring and liking.
This wouldn’t do. Ma Dongmei’s biggest highlight was her love for Xia Luo—failing to convey it was a no-go.
Whether in reality or the dream, she adored Xia Luo utterly, but her love wasn’t possessive—it was wishing true happiness for him.
Comedy film or not, that deep affection could be lighter, but not absent. Tong Yulu had zero “eyes full of one person” vibe.
“Trouble you to help with the partnering.”
Qi Yunming looked to Yu Wei. Many newbie actors were like this—solo awkward acting without a reference was prone to issues. He planned to have Yu Wei assist.
Yu Wei didn’t refuse. They were bound to partner eventually anyway—just treat it as early rehearsal.
He actually wasn’t the perfect Xia Luo, but looking around, few fit the male lead. Hiring other stars cost a fortune in actor’s salary and acting wasn’t guaranteed—better to do it himself.
Keep the benefits in the family. He had it perfectly mastered—no worries on acting, and his image was decent enough.
Shen Teng was from the military arts school heartthrob too; it was just his funny image that fit. Yu Wei probably seemed pretty unserious to netizens now too—good acting was what mattered.
Yu Wei just stood there, and Tong Yulu treated him as Xia Luo and performed it again—but same problem: no love in her eyes.
Tong Yulu had no choice; hers and Yu Wei’s was genuine friend and colleague affection. Admiration maybe a little, but nowhere near eyes-full-of-him levels.
She hadn’t even properly dated—couldn’t immerse in the emotions. Did that middle school love letter to the class tomboy count…
Qi Yunming rubbed his brow. He thought the freebie artists would fit perfectly, but the key lead actress was the problem.
“Give it another try.”
He encouraged Tong Yulu to attempt it a couple more times. No need to give up on a popular idol without actor’s salary—worth pushing a bit more.
Tong Yulu brewed her emotions and tried several times repeatedly. Finally, she even blushed unconsciously, but still no full-eyed love.
“How about trying the final kiss scene?”
Yu Wei froze at that, looking at Qi Yunming with bewilderment. Hard to imagine Old Qi suggesting this.
Turning the open audition into this? Afraid Qi Luo An wouldn’t pull his oxygen tube later?
