The Omega's Vow: Never Marry a Mama's Boy Alpha - Chapter 7

Jin Yin sent over quite a few scripts, and Wen Yan selected three. She wasn’t particularly fixated on the roles after all, in the eyes of the Chinese film and television industry, she was still a complete unknown. Even with looks and talent, landing a leading role for her debut was simply out of the question. So, rather than the roles themselves, Wen Yan placed greater importance on the quality of the scripts and the production teams behind them.

The auditions were scheduled in both the capital and Hengdian. The two in the capital were for modern dramas: one centered on an omega balancing marriage and career, overcoming hardships to reach the pinnacle of life; the other was a youthful campus romance, following two alphas who grew up together, developed feelings for each other, and, under various pressures, gradually confirmed their emotions before eventually falling in love abroad.

The audition in Hengdian, however, was for a historical drama depicting the life of the only omega emperor in history. As Wen Yan read the script, it felt strangely familiar only later did she realize it was essentially the story of Wu Zetian from her past life.

She passed the auditions for both roles in the capital supporting characters with limited screen time but endearing personalities.

Drawing from the lessons of her previous life, she understood that for an actor, the quality of the roles they play determines their appeal to the audience, and that appeal, in turn, dictates how far they can go.

Back in her past life, she had taken on any role for the sake of money often flashy courtesans or malicious homewreckers earning herself a poor reputation, few fans, and low market value.

But that was the milder consequence. Far worse was the online harassment.

Veteran actors who played notorious villains like Rong Momo avoided the screen for a long time; newcomers cast as homewreckers were bullied into publicly clarifying their real-life personas online.

Even though the characters were written by the screenwriters, the actors ended up bearing the brunt of the backlash.

Some production teams even fueled the fire, jumping on trends and memes at the expense of the artists, all for the sake of traffic and visibility feeding into a meaningless online frenzy.

Wen Yan despised it.

She couldn’t fight the system, but she could avoid letting it happen to her.

When she headed to Hengdian, she brought her younger brother, Wen Xiu, along.

Each carried a suitcase, dressed in matching white tees and ripped jeans, sunglasses on, canvas shoes on their feet. Walking one behind the other one tall, one short they clearly looked like siblings.

The weather was scorching. Wen Yan tied her hair into a high ponytail, complementing her outfit with a vibrant, sharp look. Coupled with her innate authoritative aura, she walked with such confidence that she turned heads.

Many fan photographers stationed at the airport to capture their idols noticed the striking siblings and discreetly snapped photos.

“Sis, people are taking pictures,” Wen Xiu said, sensitive to others’ gazes and feeling uneasy under so much attention.

Wen Yan ruffled his hair soft, like the fur of a small animal, making her want to ruffle it more.

“That’s why I told you to wear sunglasses.”

“Wouldn’t it be even more awkward if you made eye contact?”

Wen Xiu nodded in agreement.

Wen Yan hailed a taxi to the hotel nearest Hengdian World Studios and booked two standard rooms. By the time they settled their luggage, it was already noon. The heat was unbearable even a short walk outside left them drenched in sweat so Wen Yan ordered takeout.

The audition was at 3 p.m. Wen Yan left half an hour early, reminding her brother before she left not to wander off and to call her if anything came up.

It seemed she was gradually awakening to her inner doting older sister instincts.

Wen Xiu obediently nodded, responding with a “yes” to every instruction his sister gave, behaving with utmost docility.

Wen Yan liked well-behaved children. In her delight, she ruffled her younger brother’s hair into a messy bird’s nest before leaving with a smile.

Hengdian was vast, with numerous film crews shooting there. Under the scorching sun, Wen Yan held a parasol and asked for directions multiple times before finally locating the crew she was scheduled to audition for.

Upon entering, she saw several lines of people waiting for their turn to audition.

She glanced up at the sun, its intensity making it hard to keep her eyes open. Wen Yan sighed and reluctantly joined the end of the queue.

Fortunately, the line moved quickly, and after waiting for just over an hour, it was her turn to audition.

Before entering, she touched up her makeup and let down her tied-up hair.

The role she was auditioning for was Rong’er, the personal maid of the female lead. Though not a high-ranking character, Rong’er had significant screen time. In the story, she was fiercely loyal, courageous, resourceful, decisive, and ruthless. Even when the female lead asked her to use her body to gather intelligence, Rong’er willingly complied, all to repay the female lead for saving her life in their childhood. Ultimately, during a rebellion before the female lead ascended the throne, Rong’er took an arrow meant for her and died in the female lead’s arms.

Such a character tragic yet endearing was bound to be well-loved. Most importantly, since it was a maid’s role, no established actors or celebrities would be interested in it.

Therefore, Wen Yan was determined to secure this role.

“Please introduce yourself first.”

A row of judges sat opposite her, with director Liu Zhenglong in the center. The moment he looked at Wen Yan, his eyes lit up.

Rong’er was supposed to be stunningly beautiful and ruthless, and Wen Yan’s appearance alone made her a perfect fit.

“Good day, esteemed judges. I am Wen Yan, 23 years old, a graduate of the Florence Academy of Fine Arts. I have no prior acting experience. The role I am auditioning for is Rong’er, and I would appreciate your guidance.”

Her voice was cool and detached, carrying an ethereal quality that contrasted with her striking appearance. Despite being a complete novice with no experience, she showed no signs of stage fright and exuded a commanding presence.

The director nodded inwardly, thinking that as long as Wen Yan’s acting was passable and not too awkward, he would sign her.

“Please begin.”

The scene was set after the female lead had been ostracized in the palace and gradually lost favor. Unwilling to accept her fate, she devised a plan. The third princess was known for her promiscuity and fondness for beautiful women, so the female lead decided to send Rong’er to offer herself in exchange for the third princess’s support.

But there was a deeper meaning behind this.

Rong’er’s beauty had once caught the emperor’s attention, though he never acted on it due to his close relationship with the female lead at the time, merely praising Rong’er in private on multiple occasions.

The emperor’s behavior had planted a seed of distrust in the female lead’s heart. Having been betrayed by former sisters, she feared even her own servant might rise above her and humiliate her.

That was why she chose to have Rong’er seduce the third princess instead of the emperor.

Because the female lead did not trust Rong’er completely.

But Rong’er knew nothing of this.

Foolishly obedient, she followed her mistress’s orders, allowing herself to be toyed with and marked by the third princess. After achieving the desired outcome, she dragged her bruised and battered body back to the female lead.

Wen Yan’s expression was utterly exhausted, yet her eyes shone with a bright light. She had accomplished the task her mistress assigned and could help her escape this predicament.

“Your Highness, Rong’er has returned.”

Her voice was hoarse, a result of prolonged weeping.

The director was very satisfied. An actor who could pay attention to such details was truly dedicated.

“Her Highness the Third Princess has agreed. She said that in a few days, during the banquet for the Longevity Day, she will send someone to coordinate with you from the inside.”

“When you present your gift then, you will surely regain His Majesty’s favor!”

However, the consort did not look particularly happy. She gazed at her with a complicated expression and gently touched the corner of her lips, which had been bitten and broken.

“…Did the Third Princess mark you?”

Wen Yan trembled, a flicker of fear flashing in her eyes, before she forced a smile. “Her Highness was, affectionate.”

Yes, affectionate.

She had pleaded with the Third Princess, crying and begging her not to mark her, her voice growing hoarse from sobbing. Yet, the alpha atop her had still sunk her teeth into her neck.

Like a lamb, caught by a wolf, its throat seized.

“Since the Third Princess favors you so much, would you like to leave the palace and become her concubine?”

The consort lowered her head, a trace of mockery curling at the corner of her lips.

“It would surely be better than staying by the side of an unfavored consort like me, serving as a mere palace maid.”

“Your Highness!”

With a thud, Wen Yan knelt straight down, tears quickly welling up in her eyes, her eye rims turning red.

“Your Highness, please don’t send Rong’er away!”

“Rong’er belongs only to you!”

“If you despise it, Rong’er will go and have the mark removed!”

Sincere and deeply moving.

Wen Yan stood up, brushed the dust off her knees, and bowed to the judges.

“Thank you. My performance is over.”

The host was about to ask her to step aside and await the results when director Liu Zhenglong took off his glasses and smiled with satisfaction.

“You’re the one.”

Firm and resolute.

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