The Ex-Wife-to-Be Is Acting Weird After Losing Her Memory - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Etude One

The rack full of costume props contained gowns, casual wear, as well as practice and performance outfits for dance. There was plenty of room for the actress’s creativity. After a brief thought, Lu Jiayin chose a pure white practice uniform.

This outfit was very simple: a common dance practice uniform—a loose white T-shirt cinched at the waist with a ribbon. Paired with her alluring face, it created an even more cold and elegant aesthetic.

Since she had decided to focus on the role of the third female lead, Lu Jiayin planned to use dance as the core element of her performance. After the assistant was ready, she gracefully stepped into the audition room.

The room was painted a soft light blue. A camera was set up directly in front, and its red light, indicating recording, was on. Lu Jiayin stood facing the camera, smiling as she reported her name as required.

The next second, she raised her eyes again, and her expression suddenly changed.

A hint of curiosity appeared in those beautiful almond eyes, mixed with a slight timidity, like a startled small animal. She seemed completely unfamiliar with the environment. Soon, her eyes flashed with determination, gradually becoming clear and bright.

Lu Jiayin placed the pair of dance shoes she was holding on the floor. Her movement was very solemn, as if she were handling a precious treasure, bending down to put on the shoes with an extremely slow and serious action.

She carefully stepped to the center of the room and stood still. The soft light shone down, making her look slightly hazy. The white T-shirt wrapped her back, making it slender and straight. Then, she raised her arm.

It was a very simple posture, yet when she performed it, it seemed to create a stroke of ink washing across the air, with rippling light flowing away like a song. The hand that extended from her sleeve was slender and fair, like a flower blooming in the morning mist.

Because her left hand injury was not fully recovered, after completing the hand movement, she twisted her body in mid-air and raised one leg to perform the classical dance’s signature “Exploration of the Sea” move. Her limbs stretched out, her slender neck arched back, and her eyes held a ripple of liquid color, imbuing the cold beauty with an enchanting allure that captivated the soul.

Performing classical dance movements was a decision discussed with Fu Ruyi. Lu Jiayin had been pressured by Madam Lu to learn countless arts and crafts since childhood. While she was uninterested in most of them, she had seriously practiced dance for several years, and her foundation remained.

After these highly visually appealing dance movements, she turned and bowed toward the camera again, as if saluting the judges, then gathered her sleeves and slowly retreated to the side.

But her performance was not over. After resting for a few seconds, she took off the dance shoes, still holding them solemnly, meticulously arranging the ties, and gently brushing away nonexistent dust, before reluctantly placing them on the floor.

She placed them down very carefully, even making sure to align the shoes’ position. She looked at them with yearning and reverence several times, then stood up, bowed to the camera again, and exited the scene.

When Lu Jiayin walked out of the audition room, Fu Ruyi immediately stood up: “How did it go? Was it smooth?”

Lu Jiayin smiled faintly and replied: “I did my best.”

She had expected to be unable to demonstrate the full potential of this body, but the moment she faced the camera, her mood miraculously calmed down. The performance that followed was entirely heartfelt, without the slightest hesitation. Even if this audition failed, Lu Jiayin was certain that deep down, she acknowledged and loved this job.

Hearing this answer, Fu Ruyi was satisfied. Lu Jiayin’s memory hadn’t recovered, yet she was willing to take the step to try—which was a good sign for her. Thinking of this, she also smiled: “That was hard work. I’ll take you home first.”

Lu Jiayin was one of the last few actresses to audition. That evening, their videos were compiled and presented to the director team for the final selection.

Sitting at the center of the long table was a woman with a stern face, around forty years old, but with a surprising amount of grey hair at her temples. Paired with her dignified and striking features, she exuded a unique authority. This was Long Jing, the director of Dark Light.

Several audition videos played, but she remained largely expressionless until the camera switched to Lu Jiayin’s performance. The woman in the main seat straightened up, a trace of astonishment in her gaze.

“This is Lu Jiayin. She won an award for the film Cloud Village—a very spirited young woman,” said Chang Xihe, the casting director sitting next to Director Long, quietly introducing her. “She’s also beautiful, and upon closer inspection, she bears a slight resemblance to Ms. Gu Wanyue.”

Long Jing carefully watched the girl on the screen. As a renowned director, she had seen countless beautiful faces. She merely raised an eyebrow at the comment. Only when she saw the look of obvious reluctance yet forced self-restraint as Lu Jiayin put down the dance shoes did the corner of her mouth curve slightly.

After all the recordings were played, Long Jing spoke: “They were all quite good, but they all seemed to lack something. Only this one…” She rewound the footage to Lu Jiayin’s final actions. “I see a certain something in her eyes. She seems to have more resilience than her appearance suggests.”

“But…” Chang Xihe hesitated after hearing her evaluation, still reminding her, “Lu Jiayin wants to compete for the third female lead, Gu Wanyue. And we’ve also received word from Yueying that they hope for Qi Yongshan to play Mu’s role. She’s a newly crowned Best Actress, and Yueying has expressed a strong intention to invest, which is beneficial for us…”

“I know. The production of this film has been delayed for too long, and the producers are under immense pressure.” Long Jing frowned, her finger habitually tapping the edge of the table. “But the soul of the character Mu Shuanghe cannot be portrayed by just anyone. Tell you what, send the script to Lu Jiayin, and send copies to Yueying and Qisheng as well.”

“One week later, please invite these actresses back for a second audition to decide who the role of Mu Shuanghe truly belongs to.”

At 7 p.m., as Zhen Zhen walked through the front door, she noticed the living room, which had been clean and empty that morning, was now cluttered with things.

A projector cast an image onto the white wall, seemingly a dance drama, with distant drumbeats and national bamboo flute music weaving an enchanting and fantastical melody.

As she took a step, she stepped on something. Looking down, she saw a slightly worn magazine.

Lu Jiayin was sprawled bonelessly on the carpet. Beside her was a thick stack of books, newspapers, and very old-looking CDs. Hearing Zhen Zhen enter, she groggily started to get up.

In the soft light of the wall lamp, she was only wearing a pink, silk, spaghetti-strap nightgown. She leaned casually against the sofa, her fair, long legs brightly exposed. Her toes were charmingly curled, and her nails were translucent pinkish-white, looking even fairer and more striking against the dark gray carpet.

Zhen Zhen averted her gaze from her legs, turning to the stack of open papers on the sofa. Recalling the contents of Fu Ruyi’s phone call this afternoon, she understood: “The script has already been sent?”

As she spoke, she bent down to pick up a few scattered posters, neatly aligning their edges, and placing them back on the coffee table.

The familiar, light floral perfume scent gradually approached. Lu Jiayin slightly narrowed her eyes. Ever since she secretly used Zhen Zhen’s perfume that day, she had abandoned her own alluring fragrances, becoming fascinated by this clean scent, which was so faint it was fleeting, yet always seemed to be unintentionally captured.

She slowly looked up, letting out a small yawn: “It was sent, along with this huge pile of homework.”

Fu Ruyi, upon learning that the production team was interested in having her compete for the female lead role in Dark Light, was even more excited than Lu Jiayin herself. She rushed to deliver the script in the afternoon and thoughtfully packed a large amount of supplementary material, such as Mu Shuanghe’s dance drama CDs and magazine reports, for her to study the role.

The result was that Lu Jiayin was so mentally exhausted from studying that she didn’t even realize she had passed out on the carpet.

Zhen Zhen walked up to the sofa and leaned down, reaching out to the person on the carpet: “The floor is cold. Get up first.”

The weak, boneless little hand softly hooked onto hers. Lu Jiayin hadn’t fully recovered her composure and leaned towards Zhen Zhen’s leg following her pull, whining: “My legs are numb. I can’t get up…”

Zhen Zhen had no defense against her occasional displays of charm, so she complied and squatted down: “Which foot is numb?”

Following Lu Jiayin’s direction, her slender fingers moved down the pale white calf, gently resting on the ankle.

Then, that hand decisively gripped the arch of the foot and stretched it downward.

Lu Jiayin let out a small, kitten-like “Ow,” subconsciously wrapping her arms around Zhen Zhen’s neck, and forcefully trying to pull her foot away from the hand’s control.

As an actress, she was always very protective of her body. Her skin was soft and white all over, and her feet were smooth and tender, like fine jade. Zhen Zhen’s neck was clasped tightly by her like a koala. Afraid of hurting her hand, she could only try to stop her in a low voice: “Lu Jiayin, let go.”

Lu Jiayin whimpered, raising her head: “Who told you to press my foot so hard?”

She complained quickly, her beautiful almond eyes clouded with moisture, looking at Zhen Zhen accusingly, as if she had really been hurt, standing her ground righteously.

Zhen Zhen considered the feasibility of reasoning with Lu Jiayin for a moment, decided to abandon the idea, and graciously surrendered: “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have pressed so hard just now.”

Lu Jiayin nodded in satisfaction: “Then as compensation, shouldn’t you agree to one of my requests?”

Her expression was bossy, but the mist in her eyes remained, making her forceful demeanor look somewhat naive. Zhen Zhen gazed at her face, and for some reason, the image of a small kitten suddenly popped into her mind.

A fluffy, fierce, but palm-sized, soft ball of fur, making one want to gently pet it.

She nodded: “What do you want?”

The smile on Lu Jiayin’s face instantly widened. She linked her arm through Zhen Zhen’s and presented the idea she had planned since the afternoon: “I have a second audition next week, but it’s a scene with dialogue. You know my current situation… so I can only ask you, Wife, to practice the scene with me.”

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