I Became Famous in the Entertainment Industry with High Martial Arts Skills - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Audition

“……I see. I will notify the staff in charge of the auditions shortly.” Wang Kang had been Zhang Yunjiang’s assistant for several years; while he had seen many instances of actors fighting for roles, this was his first time encountering someone intercepting an invitation to deceive their way through.

“Mr. Xie, this afternoon I will send the audition address and time to you via text message.” Wang Kang spoke politely, settling the matter in a few concise sentences.

The call ended, and Xie Ci let out a sigh of relief. He began to ponder his next move.

In the past, he had lived without worrying about food or clothing. After calculating carefully last night, he realized that not only was he penniless, but breaking his contract with this predatory company would require a massive sum of money. Even including Mo Li’s penalty fee, he likely couldn’t raise that much even if he started performing street arts right now.

Although he had fully integrated into this world, Xie Ci couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious about tomorrow’s audition performance. Mo Li comforted him from the side, saying that having the chance to audition was a victory in itself—whether he passed or not was a problem for later.

There was no point in going to the company. Having offended their manager Wang Mingde, neither of them had any scheduled work. After resolving the audition issue, they returned to the apartment together to wait for the details.

“September 26, 2076, 9:00 AM. No. 19 Changmen Road, Quanchao Company, 2nd Floor Audition Area.” Just as they returned to the apartment, the text message popped up on his phone.

After telling Mo Li he needed to rest, Xie Ci returned to his room. He set several alarms on his phone, closed the door, and sat quietly on the bed, attempting to guide his internal energy to practice his martial arts with this new body.

However, the original host’s physical condition was worse than he had imagined. Having lived under someone else’s roof since childhood and enduring minor illnesses without treatment, the body was like a tattered rag. Not only did he look sickly on the outside, but his internal foundations were damaged.

Recalling the healing techniques in his mind, Xie Ci sat upright and slowly began to clear the stagnant meridians in his body. He had practiced martial arts since childhood, building a solid foundation under his master’s guidance. Coupled with his extraordinary talent, he had mastered his skills early on. However, martial arts had long declined in this world; the only place where his past skills could show a shadow of their former glory was in martial arts films aided by special effects.

By the time he finished clearing the most severely blocked channels, the sun outside the small window had long set, replaced by soft moonlight casting a silvery glow on the floor.

“Little Xie, come out and eat. I went downstairs and bought dinner.” Mo Li’s energetic voice drifted through the door. Xie Ci wiped the sweat from his forehead, got off the bed, and stepped out.

“Good, right? I specifically messaged the owner to save some for us.” Mo Li was sweating from the chili in the dishes. Seeing this, Xie Ci handed him a tissue. Looking at the feasting Mo Li, a memory of the host suddenly surfaced.

“Mo Li, didn’t you say before that you’d rather be a manager?” Xie Ci asked tentatively, recalling a conversation from the host’s memory.

“Yeah, compared to being an actor, I feel being a manager suits me better.” Assuming it was just small talk, Mo Li didn’t stop his chopsticks, answering while shoveling rice into his mouth.

“Wang Mingde will likely be busy sucking up to people for Hu Quan tomorrow. I happen to lack a manager to accompany me. Do you want to try it?”

Mo Li’s mouth was still full of rice when the weight of his friend’s suggestion hit him, leaving him dazed. “Me? You want me to accompany you to Director Zhang’s audition?” His voice was full of disbelief.

“Yes. We’ve been neglected by the company for four months anyway. Aside from sending us to wine parties, Wang Mingde hasn’t contacted us for anything else.” Xie Ci’s voice was serious.

Mo Li was not one to hesitate. With a golden opportunity placed before him, he thought for a moment and nodded.

“Fine! From now on, I am your temporary manager. Wang the Dog probably thinks you can’t even make it to the audition. We’ll go there tomorrow and give his thick skin a shock.” Mo Li grew more excited as he spoke, wishing it were already tomorrow so he could expose Wang Mingde’s ugly face at the audition site.

The two talked for a bit, then finished their meal and returned to their respective rooms to conserve their energy for the next day.

As the most anticipated project in the industry this year, planning for Diving Abyss had begun five years ago. Director Zhang Yunjiang and star screenwriter Gu Xingfeng spent three years just polishing the script. Every scene in the script was to be shot on location; the set construction alone accounted for 40% of the total investment, taking nearly a year to complete at the City B Film Studio.

The key roles had been cast one by one over the past six months, almost all being well-known powerhouse actors. The male lead was Ji Xiuheng, who had achieved a “Grand Slam” of the three major Chinese film awards last year. The female lead was the newly crowned Best Actress, Song Yunyin. These two alone were enough to guarantee box office success, not to mention the top-tier idols Lu Feichen and Qiao Mingyue, who had massive fanbases.

The script of Diving Abyss was adapted from the life of a chaotic-era emperor. Gu Xingfeng had held onto this script for years, researching numerous historical records to create an incredibly grand background. Had it not been for his long-term partnership with Zhang Yunjiang, he wouldn’t have been willing to bring out this treasured work.

Anyone with eyes could see that Diving Abyss was an extraordinary production. Consequently, everyone in the industry was fighting to get in—even a small role would be enough to boost their career. To find the perfect fit, Zhang Yunjiang attended almost every audition personally. After six months, most roles were settled.

However, one small supporting role had become a headache for both Zhang and Gu: Silver Thirteen.

In the script, this person was the Deposed Crown Prince’s assassin. His appearance was incredibly feminine, yet with his supernatural swordsmanship, he helped the prince eliminate his strongest political rivals. During the war, he single-handedly fought off hundreds to successfully smuggle the unconscious prince out of the capital, after which he vanished without a trace.

There were plenty of actors with feminine features, but while Silver Thirteen had limited screen time, his scenes were high-difficulty martial arts sequences. Zhang Yunjiang loved authentic action and refused to follow the trend of faking scenes with editing and special effects. Furthermore, despite the limited scenes, Silver Thirteen played a crucial role during the protagonist’s “Deposed Prince” phase. Gu Xingfeng had put a lot of heart into writing the character and refused to settle for less.

Thus, the role remained unfilled. Over the past six months, Zhang had auditioned many delicate-looking male actors. Some could pass the “civilian” scenes, but as soon as it came to the “martial” scenes, he was left dissatisfied.

Too soft! Not a single one looks like a martial arts master!

However, even a director as famous as Zhang couldn’t hold up the entire production indefinitely. Diving Abyss had officially started filming two months ago, and fortunately, Silver Thirteen’s scenes were scheduled for later. Over these two months, Zhang had been splitting his time between the set and the office. While dining with Ji Xiuheng the night before last, he was still fretting over the casting.

Gu Xingfeng flipped through the script on the table and spoke with a smile to the worried Zhang, “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Maybe today’s batch will have someone satisfactory?”

“I hope so!” Zhang sighed and signaled Wang Kang to call in the next group.

“Brother Wang, are those two Xie Ci and Mo Li?” Hu Quan had just stepped out of the minivan with Wang Mingde when he spotted two familiar figures in the distance.

“Xie Ci? How could he know the audition is here…” Wang Mingde looked dismissive, pulling the lingering Hu Quan toward the entrance of Quanchao Company.

The second-floor audition area wasn’t crowded, but it was filled with handsome young male artists, each waiting for their room assignment accompanied by their managers. Wang Mingde and Hu Quan suppressed their nervousness as they accepted their number tags and audition booklets from the staff.

The thin audition booklet contained only one role. Half of the several pages of script were action sequences, and there was even a note stating they would have to learn from and perform with a martial arts director on-site. Hu Quan’s face turned pale. No wonder the others in the queue looked uneasy—who could smile when faced with such a hell-level script!

“What kind of acting is this? Just a bunch of flashy poses with no substance!” Zhang Yunjiang couldn’t help but shake his head, waving his hand for the assistant to call the next group.

“If it really doesn’t work out, let’s just find an actor whose appearance fits,” Gu Xingfeng said helplessly. He had started his career with martial arts scripts and had worked with many actors capable of high-difficulty stunts twenty years ago. But as the market changed, filming relied more on post-production. Many artists who suffered even a little bit wanted to tell the whole world; asking them to endure the rigors of action scenes was nearly impossible. Finding a young actor with qualified martial arts skills was a tall order.

“Let’s see one more group,” Zhang said. As soon as he finished, a row of exceptionally good-looking artists walked through the door.

“Hahaha, Wang the Dog’s jaw nearly hit the floor. He definitely didn’t expect Xiao Ya to give us Assistant Wang’s contact info.” Mo Li, dressed in a suit, looked provocatively at the shocked Wang Mingde and Hu Quan at the front of the line.

Wang Mingde hadn’t expected Xie Ci to actually find the place. He had clearly confiscated the assistant’s business card yesterday. Looking at Xie Ci and Mo Li at the back of the line, Wang Mingde’s face turned from blue to red. Mindful that Hu Quan was about to enter for the audition, he gritted his teeth and suppressed his anger and unease. Once I get back and find out who tipped them off, I’ll kick them out of the company!

“This is someone else’s territory; no matter how angry he is, he can’t stop us,” Xie Ci said impassively. He took the number tag from Mo Li and followed the group into the room.

“Weren’t there only twenty people who passed the preliminary round? We just auditioned ten, plus one extra added the day before yesterday. Why are there two extra in this group?” Zhang Yunjiang looked at the twelve people entering and questioned Wang Kang.

Wang Kang immediately leaned in and explained the situation in a few whispers. Gu Xingfeng listened to the gist of it and snorted, “That manager is bold enough, trying to play the ‘act first, report later’ game.” This kind of operation wasn’t unheard of in the industry, but few made it look this ugly. The two veterans had seen plenty of storms and didn’t want to disrupt the audition rhythm, so they decided to handle it after this group finished.

Hu Quan, feeling guilty, naturally didn’t dare get close to Xie Ci. He squeezed into the crowd and focused on his script. Although he knew his behavior was risky, he still harbored unrealistic fantasies. What if? What if Director Zhang chooses me for ‘Diving Abyss’? I’d never have to wander through third-rate TV dramas again. At this thought, Hu Quan couldn’t suppress his excitement, though he kept a straight face to avoid the eyes of other artists.

Xie Ci didn’t notice his small movements; he was focused on the audition booklet. He had once saved a theatrical troupe from bandits and spent several months escorting them to Jinling out of kindness. Although he had never performed on stage, the troupe leader’s daughter, who played the “Dao Ma Dan” role, always loved having him watch her perform. Over time, he had gained some understanding of the craft and had even followed along out of curiosity. He hadn’t expected that bit of knowledge to be useful today.

The scene in the booklet featured Silver Thirteen disguised as a dancing girl at a banquet, pretending to flirt before killing the Fifth Prince with a sword. The difficulty lay in the extremely fast pace and the requirement for the male actor to portray the natural allure of a dancing girl, followed immediately by the sword-fighting sequence. It was a massive challenge for any artist.

But for Xie Ci, the hardest part was actually the simplest.

“No. 11, Yue Ke!” The staff handed the resume to the judging panel.

A tall man stepped onto the stage, his peach blossom eyes full of confidence. Yue Ke took a deep breath, and his neutral expression suddenly became soft and winding. His movements took on a feminine grace as he cast a subtle, coy smile toward the center of the stage—where the judges sat.

Zhang Yunjiang showed some interest. Though the actor’s physique was a bit too rugged, the change in expression was well-executed. Yue Ke lowered his voice and danced with a prop sword, reciting the lines: “Your Highness, what fun is there in just drinking… I have admired you for a long time and specifically practiced a dance for you…”

As he spoke, he moved his feet. The moment he finished the sentence, the sword in his right hand lunged forward, and his body exploded into a dash! Along with the assassination move, his shy, affectionate gaze turned sharp. With a flick of his wrist, he froze the motion, as if he had truly pierced the target’s chest.

In a few short minutes, he had captured Silver Thirteen’s allure and ruthlessness perfectly. “Not bad. You’re Yue Ke, right? Go down and rest; wait for the notification.” Zhang had a small smile on his face. Compared to the previous ones, Yue Ke was a high-scoring candidate.

However, the next few performances made him and Gu Xingfeng frown. Stiff lines, weak footwork—one person even fell over halfway through a sword swing! Growing frustrated, Zhang signaled the end of the audition for candidate No. 20.

“No. 21, Xie Ci.”

Seeing the nervous Hu Quan on stage, Gu Xingfeng—who knew the truth, glanced at Zhang Yunjiang, thinking the manager was incredibly stupid.

“You are Xie Ci?” Zhang Yunjiang’s tone was cold. “Why do you look different from the person in my memory?”

Hu Quan broke into a cold sweat. But since things had come to this, he could only grit his teeth and use the excuse Wang Mingde had taught him. “Director Zhang, my name is Hu Quan. The manager couldn’t reach Xie Ci and didn’t want to disappoint you, so he sent me to audition in Xie Ci’s place.”

Hearing such a ridiculous lie, Xie Ci, who was still thinking about Yue Ke’s performance, couldn’t help but look up. His skin is thicker than my old shield.

“Is that so? Then I shall have to see your performance.” Zhang didn’t expose him and signaled for the audition to start.

Looking at the crowd, Hu Quan swallowed hard, suppressed his guilt, and tried to mimic Yue Ke’s performance. “Your Highness, what fun is there in just drinking…” Because he was too nervous, he even got the lines wrong, but he had to keep moving. His sword was shaky, and his footwork became a mess until the annoyed Gu Xingfeng called a stop. “Alright, go down and wait for the notification.”

Hu Quan wanted to struggle more, but he knew anyone on that panel could end his career. He could only walk offstage in frustration.

“No. 22, Xie Ci.”

As the staff called the name, the room fell silent. Didn’t they say they couldn’t reach Xie Ci? Then who is this?

Xie Ci met the confused gazes of the judges and walked onto the stage with composure. His extraordinary appearance made everyone’s eyes light up. “Hello, everyone. I am Xie Ci.” He didn’t explain Hu Quan’s previous words; he simply introduced himself.

Lies only need to be explained by the liar.

With elegant features and eyes bright as pearls, his face was perfectly proportioned. Though he was a bit too thin, his upright posture made him look exactly like Silver Thirteen stepped out from the script. Zhang didn’t say anything, but he was already satisfied. He had only seen half of Xie Ci’s face that night and was impressed; seeing the full face now exceeded his expectations.

Standing under the stage lights, Xie Ci held the sword behind his back. In an instant, his elegant aura turned into a flirtatious, romantic one. With a flicker of his eyes, he seemed to be in the Fifth Prince’s victory hall, playing the role of the peerless dancing girl.

Gu Xingfeng had been nodding since Xie Ci stepped up. This face was exactly the Silver Thirteen he imagined: a ruthless assassin with the beauty of a maiden. Seeing Xie Ci’s precise expressions, he couldn’t help but pat Zhang Yunjiang’s thigh several times in excitement. Zhang, also captivated, glared at his partner once before returning his gaze to Xie Ci.

The sword moved with the body. The “dancing girl” was light on his feet, stepping closer to the imaginary Fifth Prince. Everyone below could suddenly understand why a hero like the Fifth Prince would die for such beauty. Beauty was the weapon, and Silver Thirteen was a master swordsman.

Xie Ci parted his lips slightly: “Your Highness, what fun is there in just drinking.” With a spin, he stepped closer. “I have admired you for a long time and specifically practiced a dance for you…”

The person on stage had a smile in his eyes, but deep within was a cold, predatory gaze, like a snake waiting to strike.

Shua— The smiling dancer suddenly whirled around, the sword pointing directly at the imaginary man. “How is my dance?” His voice was still beautiful as he lunged several times, as if the Fifth Prince were dodging. Suddenly, as if the opponent were counterattacking, Xie Ci executed a series of dodges and pursuits. The tip of the sword shook—a feint that fooled the man, then, with core power, the sword came down from above, ending the target’s life.

Zhang Yunjiang clenched his fists, completely drawn into the scene. When Xie Ci bowed to finish, Zhang didn’t snap out of it for a long time.

Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

Yue Ke’s performance was good, but after seeing Xie Ci, Zhang realized what had been missing. Xie Ci integrated himself into the scene, creating a fictional opponent with real reactions. Yue Ke’s performance, while vivid, lacked that imagination of the opponent’s response.

Zhang and Gu exchanged looks; their satisfaction was palpable. Everyone could see the winner had been decided. Zhang started clapping, and the assistant directors and instructors followed suit, giving Xie Ci full marks.

Hu Quan, who watched the whole thing, was shocked. Is this the same cowering Xie Ci I know? Recalling his own performance, he wished he could disappear. Behind him, Yue Ke had a different reaction; he wasn’t a sore loser. Being defeated by such an opponent was not shameful.

As soon as Xie Ci stepped down, Zhang got up and walked over. “It’s you. We’ll sign the contract this afternoon.”

Xie Ci returned to his composed self, the allure replaced by a clean, upright aura. “Thank you for the opportunity, Director Zhang. I will treasure it.”

As the other candidates left, some were bitter, but seeing even Yue Ke look convinced, they had no right to complain.

“How was it? Did they pick you?” an awaiting manager asked anxiously.

The artist looked miserable. “I thought I did okay, but that guy named Xie Ci… whoever he belongs to, he just crushed the whole room.” He walked toward the door to catch his next gig. The manager, losing all hope, chased after his artist.

Meanwhile, Wang Mingde, waiting for Hu Quan, felt like he’d been struck by lightning.

Xie Ci? How can it be Xie Ci?!

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