After Failing to Reverse the Plot, I Made My Escape - Chapter 15

He heard another person’s name from his lover’s lips.

“Teacher Yu, are you alright?”

Hu Daoyuan had been watching Yu Fuqiu out of the corner of his eye. When the young man pushed the door open and entered, Yu Fuqiu’s hand jerked violently, causing some water to splash out of the cup he was holding.

“I am Ke Qi’an from Class X of the Acting Department. This is my updated resume and a list of awards I have received. Please take a look, teachers.”

Ke Qi’an handed out the materials one by one. When he passed Yu Fuqiu, he paused and pulled a sheet from the bottom of the stack. “Hello, Teacher Yu. Please give me your valuable feedback later. Thank you.”

His attitude was respectful and flawless.

Yu Fuqiu pursed his lips, his expression tense. Scenes from the original novel flashed through his mind one after another. He felt as if his heart were being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, making it difficult to breathe. Only after Ke Qi’an moved past him did Yu Fuqiu slowly calm down and gradually steady his rapid breathing.

Hu Daoyuan looked at the materials in his hand and then at the young man standing at the center of attention. His brow furrowed slightly. He had previously placed this person’s file among the rejected candidates, so how did he reappear here?

“My goodness, this child is truly outstanding,” a lecturer from the academy remarked while looking at the resume. “He is only a senior student, yet he already has hundreds of thousands of followers on social media. He has participated in many productions of various sizes. Although he has not played major roles, they were all memorable characters that went viral.”

“It is almost like,” Hu Daoyuan’s assistant leaned over to take a look and sighed, “it is so similar to Teacher Yu’s debut experience.”

Yu Fuqiu’s first role had been a walk-on part as a commoner in a fantasy drama. Clad in coarse hemp clothes, he had somehow exuded the aura of a transcendent immortal. Consequently, clips of his character were edited and shared until he became widely known.

The role Ke Qi’an had played was a young disciple in a similar fantasy drama. At first glance, his features and demeanor bore a resemblance to Yu Fuqiu, which contributed to his sudden popularity online. However, his background was far superior to Yu Fuqiu’s. Born in City B, the capital of Country C, he had attended top-tier schools his entire life and ranked first nationally in the arts entrance examination.

Yu Fuqiu’s fingers trembled slightly. As his gaze drifted downward, he bit his lip hard when he saw a specific entry.

[Resume: Interned at Chang’an Company for three months as the President’s Secretary.]

The time he listed was only a few months after Jiang Tingzhi had acquired the group. Before the acquisition, the Changqiu Company was known as the Chang’an Company.

Memories rushed back like an uninvited tide, suddenly submerging Yu Fuqiu.

“Qiuqiu, that secretary today looks a lot like you.”

Jiang Tingzhi’s deep, hoarse voice, laced with lingering desire, echoed in Yu Fuqiu’s ears like a curse. At that time, he was being held tightly by Jiang Tingzhi. The man’s hot body pinned him firmly against a cool wall in a dominant and possessive manner.

The man’s kisses fell meticulously, wandering from his sensitive, reddened ears down to his long, fragile neck. His scorching breath fanned across Yu Fuqiu’s delicate skin, triggering waves of tremors. Yu Fuqiu could clearly feel the passion burning within the body embracing him, and he could see the deep, blurred intoxication in Jiang Tingzhi’s narrow eyes.

As usual, he had indulged in this exclusive intimacy and affection, until those words pierced through like small needles of ice.

“He accidentally knocked over his coffee today. He was so flustered that his face turned as red as a peach.” Jiang Tingzhi’s lips pressed against his carotid artery, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. He continued with a low chuckle, “But he seemed to know I do not drink coffee and brought me a cup of milk tea. It was exactly the flavor I like. How strange.”

Yu Fuqiu’s body stiffened imperceptibly for a moment. In such a moment of physical intimacy and shared breath, while he was defenselessly open and receiving the other’s love, he heard a description of another person from his lover’s mouth, a description tinged with novelty and even interest.

“He is clumsy, just like you.”

Jiang Tingzhi seemed entirely oblivious, or perhaps he simply felt there was nothing wrong with it. While he used his teeth to graze the sensitive skin of Yu Fuqiu’s collarbone, leaving a clear red mark like a declaration of ownership, he spoke in a tone that mixed doting and comparison, uttering the final, agonizing words: “He was really just too cute.”

Jiang Tingzhi continued to leave one burning mark after another on him, his movements even gaining a strange intensity because of the memory. Yu Fuqiu was forced to tilt his head back and endure the fierce intimacy, his eyes gazing hollowly at the blurred light and shadows on the ceiling.

Yu Fuqiu thought he had forgotten these trivial matters, but he was only now beginning to realize the truth. During that period, Jiang Tingzhi often mentioned the secretary by his side. However, the person’s name was like a fog; even if Yu Fuqiu had heard it, he had completely forgotten it.

Until they met again. Was this not their first meeting? Had the plot already begun back then? That was five years ago. This realization stabbed deep into Yu Fuqiu’s heart like a thorn, and a chill gradually crawled up from the soles of his feet.

Ke Qi’an raised his hand to hide his expression. Through the gaps between his fingers, he saw Yu Fuqiu’s reaction and curled his lips into a satisfied smirk.

“Well then, teachers, I shall begin my performance.”

He specifically chose the most difficult part of the script. This character falls from a peak to rock bottom, with emotions that are rich and volatile. The performer must portray these shifts accurately within a few seconds while delivering explosive lines. Without solid fundamental skills, it would be impossible to master the timing.

When Ke Qi’an finished his performance, the room fell silent. Even Hu Daoyuan was stunned for a moment.

“Is this the performance of a senior student?” Quan Zhi remarked in amazement. He was an acting lecturer hired by the school who taught whenever his schedule allowed. He clapped first and then offered praise. “This is truly wonderful, Ke Qi’an. Aside from your slightly weak lines and somewhat stiff emotional transitions, it was excellent. You have a bright future ahead of you, Student Ke.”

“He truly deserves the title of ‘Little Yu Fuqiu’,” the assistant whispered.

Yu Fuqiu’s fingertips curled slightly.

“Teacher Yu, what do you think? I say we stop looking and just settle on him. What do you say?” Quan Zhi tilted his head slightly and looked at Yu Fuqiu with a smile. He pointed to his watch. “Since one o’clock this afternoon, for four whole hours, some students were interrupted by you before they could even say a few words. You have given a lot of valuable advice, but is our time not valuable as well? It is rare to find such a great actor. What reason do you intend to use to eliminate him this time?”

There was a smile in Quan Zhi’s eyes, but it did not reach his depths. Yu Fuqiu lowered his gaze, and his head began to throb again.

“Teacher Quan, that is enough. Teacher Yu surely has his own considerations.”

“Then, let me perform a segment of how I believe this character should be played,” Yu Fuqiu said softly.

He looked up calmly. His face, beautiful to the point of appearing surreal, held no expression, as if it were covered by a thin layer of frost. His long hair was tied back neatly, revealing his smooth and exquisite jawline, which emphasized a sense of detached, professional coldness.

When he finished his performance, the audition room fell into a deathly silence. The staff members present even held their breath instinctively, fearing that the slightest sound would disturb the figure who was still immersed in the character’s emotions. Yu Fuqiu stood with his eyes lowered, surrounded by an aura of broken, tragic beauty. In the corner, a young script supervisor even burst into tears, biting her lip to keep from making a sound.

In the face of absolute strength, any petty tricks appeared pale and ridiculous.

Yu Fuqiu slowly raised his eyes. His gaze landed calmly on Ke Qi’an, whose face had turned slightly pale. His voice returned to its previous coldness, like the sound of jade striking stone.

“The context of this character is that he discovers he has a significant inheritance only after his family collapsed and both his parents passed away. In your performance just now, your joy far outweighed the grief of losing your kin. However, please note that this character is famous for being filial and is deeply loyal at his core. Do you believe that when the bones of one’s parents are not yet cold, the arrival of a huge inheritance would bring pure joy? Do you think such a performance logic is feasible?”

His critique was sharp, professional, and calm. Without a hint of personal bias, every word was like a knife, stripping away Ke Qi’an’s superficial performance. Ke Qi’an had tried to imitate Yu Fuqiu’s fragile style without understanding its essence, and Yu Fuqiu had completely dismantled it.

After speaking, Yu Fuqiu picked up a fountain pen and wrote several lines on a piece of white paper with a fluid motion. With a light flick of his finger, the thin paper seemed to take on a life of its own, sliding across the table and landing precisely at Ke Qi’an’s feet.

The gentle smile on Ke Qi’an’s face nearly crumbled. He slowly bent down with a hint of stiffness to pick up the paper. When his gaze fell upon the handwriting, his pupils shrank. The beautiful face he had been struggling to maintain distorted for a split second. Although he recovered quickly, his sudden change in complexion betrayed the turmoil and humiliation he felt inside.

On the paper, in Yu Fuqiu’s sharp and beautiful handwriting, were two short idioms that felt like loud slaps to his face:

[The skin is easy to paint, but the soul is hard to capture.] [A clumsy imitation.]

Ke Qi’an’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the paper, his hand trembling slightly.

“Thank you for your guidance, Teacher Yu.”

Suddenly, Ke Qi’an took a tube of ointment from his pocket. He walked up to Yu Fuqiu, pushed the ointment toward him, and leaned close to his ear. His voice was tender as he whispered, “The back of your hand must hurt quite a bit, Teacher Yu.”

Yu Fuqiu’s body shuddered. The burn marks on the back of his hand from when Jiang Tingzhi had spilled hot water had not yet faded. He was wearing gloves to hide them, and even Tan Ling did not know. How could Ke Qi’an know?

Ke Qi’an chuckled softly. “Guess if he will come home tonight?”

Yu Fuqiu’s pupils contracted sharply. Just as he wanted to grab Ke Qi’an and demand answers, the younger man stepped back.

“I saw that your waist was a bit stiff earlier. This is an ointment from my hometown. Consider it a thank you for your critique. It is made from snake skin. We call it ‘Painted Skin’.” He smiled, and in that moment, his features bore an even stronger resemblance to Yu Fuqiu’s. “Of course, this is authentic. Everything sold outside is fake. Only my family has the real recipe. So, Teacher Yu, if it works well, I will give you a few more.”

Yu Fuqiu’s breathing became shallow, and his head began to spin. Just then, his phone rang. It was the number for Jiang Tingzhi’s assistant.