Never Forget (GL) - Chapter 2

Ke Shu had other matters to attend to. She ended the call with a quick, “We’ll discuss the details when you get to the office this afternoon.”

Ye Zhuyi’s hand, holding the phone, dropped from her ear. Her back was against the headboard, and her long, half-closed lashes trembled with her deep breaths.

She lifted a hand to pat her face, steadying her emotions.

It’s just an audition. It’s not a done deal, so why am I so excited? The thought made Ye Zhuyi feel a little confused.

Not much news had been released about Magpie in Shock so far, but every bit of information caused a stir. It was hiring a top domestic costume and props team and bringing back the dream team of screenwriter Zhou Wen and renowned director Lu Buping after a four-year hiatus. The production crew was nothing short of top-tier.

Director Lu Buping, in particular, had been incredibly popular for the past two years, racking up major awards both at home and abroad. She was a master at filming characters, using lighting to highlight their personalities. Even stone-faced actors became acting powerhouses in her projects. Every film she directed turned an actor into a star, and there wasn’t a single actor in the country who didn’t want to work with her, even in a supporting role.

Because of this, whenever a casting call went out, countless actors wanted to get into her crew. To ensure the film’s reputation and box office success, investors usually discarded resumes from anyone below a B-list celebrity. Only those with financial backing or a significant fan following would be considered for a supporting role.

Given her current status and experience, Ye Zhuyi couldn’t imagine how she even got an audition for the female lead, let alone the female supporting role. She’d probably have a better chance playing a background character, like a servant washing feet.

Her confusion didn’t last long.

At 1 p.m., Xiao Qiao arrived on time to pick up Ye Zhuyi and drove her to the Starry Entertainment headquarters.

They took the elevator from the underground parking lot to the upper floors. Xiao Qiao stopped in front of the lounge, and Ye Zhuyi went to Ke Shu’s office alone.

She knocked once, and Ke Shu’s voice came from inside, “Come in.”

Ye Zhuyi pushed the door open. “Sister Ke.”

“You’re here.” Ke Shu was sitting on a sofa with her laptop. She turned to look at Ye Zhuyi, put the computer on the coffee table, and gestured for her to sit down.

Ye Zhuyi sat down beside her as requested, her eyes accidentally catching sight of the computer screen.

“Didn’t you sleep well last night?” Ke Shu asked with a concerned look. Ye Zhuyi wasn’t wearing makeup, and her skin was so fair that the dark circles under her eyes were very noticeable.

Ye Zhuyi subtly looked away and smiled faintly. “I’ve been on set for so long that I’m not used to being home.”

Hearing this, Ke Shu chuckled. She watched as Ye Zhuyi sat down, the heart-shaped necklace on her fair, slender neck swinging as she leaned forward.

It was a simple, heart-shaped necklace. Ye Zhuyi always wore it unless she was on set. Ke Shu had seen her open the locket but never what was inside.

Ye Zhuyi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and asked softly, “Is there anything special I should know about the audition the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, we need to be there at ten in the morning. The earlier we go, the better our chances of drawing a good lot. The crew is in Shencheng, and I’ll go with you.” Ke Shu poured her a glass of water and continued, “Although it’s an internal casting call, the director is Lu Buping, and the female supporting role is a major part. Many actors will be auditioning, so we’ll likely have to wait a long time. Get some good rest these next two days and stay in top condition.”

Ye Zhuyi nodded and took the glass Ke Shu handed her. She held it without drinking. Since Lu Buping was mentioned, she voiced her earlier confusion. “I heard that Director Lu rarely uses actors below B-list celebrities unless they’re for minor roles.”

After a moment of silence, Ke Shu softened her tone and tried to sound as natural as possible. “Well, actually, the role I submitted you for initially wasn’t the female lead. It was a minor supporting role, but… it was turned down. However…”

So that’s why Ke Shu said she had no plans for me when we met last night.

Ye Zhuyi’s heart skipped a beat. She watched as Ke Shu turned the computer screen toward her. Her gaze was fixed on a lollipop avatar with the username “Did Zhenzhen go for the top today?”

She had just changed her username yesterday. She had been editing videos for a long time, starting with videos of just Qin Zhizhen. Later, after watching the show Cold Night and seeing the fan-edited videos of Qin Zhizhen and Sui Xuan, she felt a strange discomfort and began editing videos of her own scenes with Qin Zhizhen.

She impulsively changed her name yesterday and, to her surprise, it went viral by piggybacking on Qin Zhizhen’s fame.

Could it really be because of this?

Sure enough, Ke Shu continued, “The screenwriter of Magpie in Shock, Zhou Wen, saw the fan-edited video. She contacted me and said she wanted you to audition for the female lead.”

Ye Zhuyi’s back stiffened involuntarily. Relying on her acting skills, she kept her expression under control and said, as if casually, “Then I have to thank this video creator.”

“I think it’s better not to get involved. After all, you’re just gaining fame from Qin Zhizhen,” Ke Shu said, taking a sip of water. She clicked the mouse a few times. “I checked. The creator hasn’t followed anyone. The early videos were all about Qin Zhizhen, so they’re probably her fans. And look, the earliest comments on the video are from Qin Zhizhen’s fans accusing you of gaining fame from her. The tide of comments only changed to ‘shipping’ after someone pointed this out. It’s perfect as it is now.”

“Mhm.” Ye Zhuyi pursed her lips, her eyelashes hiding the darkness in her eyes.

She could understand Ke Shu’s concerns. Ke Shu wasn’t sure if she could land the role. The entertainment industry has no secrets. If she didn’t get the part and the story of her auditioning and the video creator being connected to her leaked, she would definitely be mocked for using fame and connections to get ahead.

In this industry, cyberbullying could kill a career without a trace.

Even though negative fame was still a form of fame, if the timing was wrong and the actor wasn’t mentally strong enough, it could be the final straw that breaks their career.

Ye Zhuyi lowered her eyes, holding the water glass. She took a sip. The cool water calmed the emotions churning inside her. She asked casually, “Is there a script for the audition?”

“No, that’s what I was about to tell you. To prevent the script from leaking, the first round of auditions will be without a script. You’ll have to improvise based on the director’s descriptions,” Ke Shu said, patting her on the shoulder. “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Even if you don’t get it, it’s good to get some face time with the director.”

Ye Zhuyi hadn’t even had the chance to audition before, and even though she had one now, Ke Shu didn’t hold out much hope for her.

Ye Zhuyi forced a smile, but it felt strained. Her eyes were fixed on the video thumbnail on the computer screen—Qin Zhizhen’s face.

Her face was too gentle without makeup but too alluring with it. It was perfect—not too soft, not too dramatic, otherworldly without seeming distant.

It was the face of the person she loved. The face of the person she had spent every waking moment with for a time.

It was the face of the person she had traveled thousands of miles for, leaving a remote city to take a 48-hour train ride to the big city, resolutely entering the entertainment industry, joining an online variety show, practicing day and night, and taking on countless roles, all for a chance to see her again.

She thought it would be a long, long time before she had the right to get close to Qin Zhizhen again, to be by her side again. Now, this opportunity had suddenly fallen into her lap.

More than surprising, she felt anxiety. She was afraid this chance would slip through her fingers.

Her hands on her knees, she lifted one to grip the necklace on her neck. Her fingers slowly tightened, the corners of the heart digging into her palm. Ye Zhuyi lifted her eyes, her tone firm. “I will get this role.”

Ke Shu looked at her in surprise. For a moment, she thought she had misheard. In the past, this girl had been a Zen master when it came to auditions and roles. She would work hard when acting but seemed indifferent the rest of the time. Ke Shu often couldn’t tell if she loved acting or was just in it for the money.

It was a rare moment of ambition for her.

Following Ye Zhuyi’s gaze, Ke Shu also looked at Qin Zhizhen on the screen.

The one they called “the God.” At 14, she starred in her first TV show. It was so popular that every family would gather at 8 p.m. to watch it. Qin Zhizhen won the Magnolia Award for Chinese TV for her role as the heartbreakingly sensible older sister, becoming the youngest Best Actress. She became a household name overnight.

With fame came trouble. Even though Qin Zhizhen was a minor, ruthless internet trolls didn’t spare her. They constantly spread rumors and malicious gossip. Anytime she was photographed with an older man, people would say he was her sugar daddy or that she was being kept.

Just as she was on the verge of a brilliant career, Qin Zhizhen suddenly gave up acting for some reason and went silent for a while. Just as people were starting to forget her, she reappeared on the big screen. She won the Golden Phoenix Award for Chinese Film and Best Actress at an international A-list film festival for her role in the film Assassination. At just 18, she proved herself to the world with her flawless looks, superb acting, and amazing talent.

Shortly after, her background was revealed—she was the granddaughter of the CEO of Glory Pictures, one of the three entertainment giants, and the one most doted on by Qin Zhenghong.

After that, her films were released one after another, all of them blockbusters. She won major awards both at home and abroad. On her 25th birthday, Qin Zhizhen completed the Triple Crown. She had cemented her place in the film world and was now known as “the God of Qin” in the entire entertainment industry.

Ke Shu remembered Ye Zhuyi’s past ambitions and smiled knowingly and with relief. She also hoped Ye Zhuyi would be more motivated so she could have a better chance of becoming a top-tier manager. “You’re very talented at acting, and I believe you can do it. Didn’t you want to become a film queen?” She gestured to the screen with her chin. “Work towards becoming a film queen like Qin.”

Ke Shu thought Ye Zhuyi was motivated because she wanted to be a film queen. But she had no idea that Ye Zhuyi was only motivated because she wanted to be the film queen, the one on the screen.

Meanwhile, the source of Ye Zhuyi’s motivation—Qin Zhizhen—was in her car, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the iPad her assistant, Lian Rong, was shakily holding out to her.

Sunlight streamed through the window, but it didn’t soften her cold, pure aura. Instead, the golden light made her seem more distant and ethereal.

The light made Qin Zhizhen’s features even more three-dimensional. Even after working with her for many years, Lian Rong still couldn’t stare at her directly. The beauty was too powerful, especially Qin Zhizhen’s deep, soulful eyes. They were like a vortex, and if you weren’t careful, you could get lost in them.

Those eyes expressed so much and were the very definition of her talent.

But Lian Rong was in no mood to admire the beauty she never tired of seeing. She was panicking. How did Qin Zhizhen catch her red-handed for watching a fan-edited video of her and her idol, Ye Zhuyi, who she had been a fan of for a year?

“What is this?” Qin Zhizhen asked calmly.

“Uh… it’s a fan-edited video of you and Ye Zhuyi,” Lian Rong said, trying to stay calm. Although Qin Zhizhen seemed cold and unapproachable, after spending enough time with her, you would realize she was actually quite gentle.

Qin Zhizhen was slightly taken aback. She understood that fan-made videos of same-sex couples were very popular these days.

But… she frowned. “Who is Ye Zhuyi?” She reached out and tapped a video.

“She was the main dancer of the now-disbanded girl group, Astar,” Lian Rong said. She watched Qin Zhizhen’s long, slender fingers pause in mid-air. She cleared her throat and held her hands above her head to form bunny ears. “She’s the one who fell while dancing the bunny dance.”

Back then, during Astar’s reality show, the host had the four amazing dancers do the bunny dance. The four of them looked so silly and cute that it went viral. Qin Zhizhen had also seen it and thought it was interesting, especially the one who fell in the middle.

Lying on the floor with a bewildered look on her face, Ye Zhuyi was so cute it made Lian Rong’s heart flutter. Yi Yi is like a little lion cub. So fierce on stage, but so soft and adorable off it.

Qin Zhizhen gave her a cold look, and Lian Rong came back to her senses, lowering her hands dejectedly. It was clear from Qin Zhizhen’s expression that she had already forgotten.

The video had ended. Qin Zhizhen handed the iPad back to Lian Rong, adjusted her posture, and was silent for a moment before her gentle voice, as clear as a nightingale, spoke with a hint of confusion.

“Do I look like a bottom?”

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