The Top Star Is a Hopeless Romantic - Chapter 4

Xu Yiqing pushed open the door to the audition room; his eyes caught by the tall, lean silhouette standing by the window. He froze for half a second, clearly not expecting that the newly added prime candidate for his character’s “suitor” would be Lin Yu.

He had long since read through the sequel script for Tyrannical Love. The tropes were hardly fresh: shoehorn a third wheel into each protagonist’s storyline to drag out the audience’s emotions through misunderstandings and melodramatic twists. Hou Chao’s line was assigned a rich cousin returning from studying abroad, while his own side gained a hidden-identity wealthy second-generation heir who willingly worked as a corporate slave colleague.

The third-wheel roles carried significant weight, making chemistry the key criterion for casting. After two rounds of screening, the remaining candidates were required to act opposite Hou Chao and Xu Yiqing respectively.

Behind the long table sat the investors’ representatives, the director, and the casting director. An assistant handed over a freshly printed audition scene. Xu Yiqing glanced down, his handsome, thick eyebrows knitting slightly.

The excerpt required the wealthy second-generation character, “Wang Yiyang,” to exhibit a three-tiered progression of emotions after his confession was rejected: shame and anger, accusation, and asserting ownership, all while using physical force to pin his partner against the floor-to-ceiling glass window. With lines and physical actions escalating step by step, it was quite challenging for a newcomer who had never acted before.

Lin Yu cast his eyes down to skim the dialogue. The slight smile at the corners of his lips was like a spring breeze brushing across a lake. His appearance certainly fit the part: sharp shoulder lines, an arrogant gait, and a youthful face carrying an innate condescension, looking every bit like a spoiled young heir born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Yet, as far as Xu Yiqing knew, Lin Yu came from an ordinary family background; he had debuted as a singer-dancer, later becoming the center of his group, and had never done any serious acting.

“Teacher Xu, please guide me,” Lin Yu closed the script, stuffed one hand into his pocket, and walked straight over to the glass window with a face full of confidence.

Was this role assigned to him internally? A wave of doubt crossed Xu Yiqing’s mind. He nodded and walked over as well.

Lin Yu lowered his head, took a deep breath, and looked up again; that touch of playfulness vanished instantly without a trace. The color of his eyes darkened like the ocean surface right before a storm. “Say that again?” His chest heaved slightly, and his hands, hidden beneath his sleeves, gradually clenched into fists.

“Yiyang, ” Xu Yiqing called out the character’s name, lightly pursing his lips. “Thank you for your appreciation, but I’m sorry…”

Lin Yu did not allow him to finish the line. He suddenly reached out and grabbed the lapel of Xu Yiqing’s shirt, forcing him toward the glass window with a surge of force. Just as his spine was about to hit the cold surface, the force abruptly stopped; he was displaying an emotion of resentment mixed with a reluctance to actually harm the other person. This subtle detail was very well executed. A trace of admiration passed through Xu Yiqing’s mind as he continued his performance: he raised his eyes in slight bewilderment, meeting a pair of fire-spitting eyes. Lin Yu growled in a low tone, “You don’t need to apologize, and don’t be in a hurry to reject me!”

Immediately after, his face leaned close; Xu Yiqing turned his head away in slight fluster. As expected of a newcomer, adding unscripted action right off the bat without any sense of restraint. After all, this was merely an audition without precise scene staging; the script provided a general outline, allowing actors to improvise details, which was also a test of talent and skill. However, reckless actors like Lin Yu were by no means the majority.

Xu Yiqing closed his eyes briefly and cooperatively tilted his body to one side. Yet, the approaching face did not push forward recklessly; it stopped just at his ear. Scorching breath brushed against his pinna; his voice pressed extremely low, “You know nothing about anything, Sang Mu. Open your eyes and look clearly!”

Lin Yu came from a singer-dancer background and possessed a rather magnetic voice. Speaking so close to his ear vibrated his entire ear canal into a bout of numbness, making Xu Yiqing tremble involuntarily.

However, the hand gripping his lapel released its hold, and Lin Yu pulled his leaning body back. Xu Yiqing let out a soft breath and stood upright alongside him. In a matter of seconds, his perception shifted once again; although the physical movements were somewhat extreme, Lin Yu had captured the core of the character “Wang Yiyang”: stubbornness, infused with a hint of madness.

Lin Yu took half a step back, his gaze still pinned to Xu Yiqing’s face, his lips curling into a cold sneer. “If the feeling between you and him were mutual, I would have nothing to say.” His upper body suddenly pressed down again, his speaking speed quickening: “But Sang Mu, do you really think Han Yu’s feelings for you are genuine?”

His eyes were icy, dropping phrase after phrase like a sharp blade sliding over glass,

“After dating for so long, does he still not understand your character? The moment the design plan leaked, he suspected you first!”

“That cousin of his, an engagement arranged since childhood, has he ever come clean and confessed that to you?”

“His parents make things difficult for you and blame you time and again; is he truly completely ignorant of it?”

“I don’t know how you define ‘love,’ but it is definitely not turning a blind eye, giving irrelevant answers, or forcing someone against their will!”

Xu Yiqing’s eyes widened slightly, half out of the shock expected from the role, and half out of genuinely being stunned: Lin Yu had delivered such a long monologue in one breath without a single stumble, and his emotional delivery was fully on point. Either he possessed exceptional talent, or he had received the complete script long ago.

Given some of the gossip he usually heard around the company, he leaned toward the latter; the company had indeed pre-selected him for this role internally.

This was also within expectations. When a company-invested drama became a hit, it was only natural to take advantage of the momentum to promote their own newcomers. Besides, Lin Yu was hardly considered a newcomer: at Star Tide, he was currently at the peak of his popularity. Even though Xu Yiqing disliked getting involved in drama, he had heard plenty of his “gossip news.”

Suppressing the slight touch of disdain rising in his heart, Xu Yiqing continued according to the script. He cast his eyes down and raised an arm to block the person leaning in on him again, his tone flustered yet firm: “Yiyang, I will handle my own affairs myself. Please do not stick your nose into my business…”

Before he could finish his sentence, a slightly cool palm slid down along his arm and clamped around his wrist. The young man let out a low laugh laced with arrogance. “I insist on meddling, unless you agree to give me a fair chance to compete.”

“OK, let’s cut it there.” The casting director stood up and called a halt.

Lin Yu released his hand, stepped back two paces, and bowed slightly toward Xu Yiqing. “Teacher Xu, thank you for your hard work.” A sly glint flashed across his eyes, and a hint of smugness hung at the corners of his lips that he couldn’t hide; after all, he was only twenty-four. No matter how smooth and worldly he was, he still retained a somewhat childish undertone. Yet, it was precisely this face that was far too handsome to make anyone truly dislike him.

Cai Shun did not attempt to hide his favoritism, putting an arm around Lin Yu’s shoulders: “You’ve improved again, much steadier than during the last audition.” The two were as familiar with each other as if they were chatting backstage, standing shoulder to shoulder.

“The last audition?” Xu Yiqing murmured with slight confusion.

Though he hadn’t spoken aloud, Lin Yu seemed to hear him anyway. Turning his head, he explained, “When Tyrannical Love started shooting, I auditioned for the role of ‘Han Yu,’ but unfortunately, I wasn’t selected.” He shifted his gaze toward the director nearby. “Director Shi, could you give me some critiques? The first time I came to audition, it was because I heard you were directing, and I wanted to learn from you, but I didn’t get the chance. I wonder if there’s any hope for me this time?”

Xu Yiqing was momentarily stunned. Had he guessed wrong? Was he not an internally selected candidate after all? Furthermore, asking for the result so blatantly right in front of everyone exceeded his expectations even more.

Is this Lin Yu a fool? How is the director supposed to answer? ‘It’s you!’? Should the remaining candidates even bother auditioning then?

Sure enough, Director Shi, wearing black-framed glasses, scratched the ponytail tied into a small bun at the back of his head and curled his lips in apparent displeasure: “Wait for the notification.”

His tone sounded somewhat impatient, but having spent three months on set with Director Shi during the first season of Tyrannical Love, Xu Yiqing understood him well enough to acutely perceive that he wasn’t actually angry. Artists always possessed a bit of genuine temperament; Lin Yu’s reckless, unfiltered drive might have inadvertently struck a chord with his taste.

Xu Yiqing sighed internally, yet felt quietly relieved. The sigh was out of emotional reflection: How old is Lin Yu? Not only in acting, but even in interpersonal comprehension, he far surpasses who I was back then. The relief stemmed from the fact that if Lin Yu truly played the role, at least their shared scenes wouldn’t be too grueling; in the sequel, he had quite a lot of overlap with “Wang Yiyang.”

Lin Yu greeted everyone in the room before taking his leave.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, he first sent a text message to Jiang Shiyue. Immediately afterward, he put away his phone, put on a heavy expression, and went up to the dance studio on the forty-fifth floor.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, explosive music surged toward his face. Zhang Chi slapped the pause button, and the remaining members instantly surrounded him, their eyes gleaming like light bulbs: “How did it go? How did it go? Did you pass?” “Well? Spit it out!” “Aiya, what did the director say? Hurry up and tell us, Yu-ge!”

The NF group had four members in total. By age, Lin Yu actually ranked second; Fu Zixiang was a few months older than him, yet the title of “Boss” had firmly landed on his head. From talent shows, intensive training camps, to debuting as a group and walking all the way to the present, years of running together had forged an unbreakable friendship among them.

Regarding their boss “going under” to act in a double-male lead drama, the group members supported it with both hands raised.

After all, this was how Lin Yu had “persuaded” them: “Brothers, I had no choice. Our group can’t just keep dawdling like this, right? Though male-male dramas don’t carry the best reputation, they offer plenty of screen exposure. Down the road, I’ll apply with the crew so we can go on roadshows and drama promotions together. If nothing else, we can at least gain followers and earn a few more performance fees.”

Actually, it couldn’t be considered deception. Lin Yu’s approach was a path that any obscure group would consider; it was just that there were too many monks and too little porridge, meaning not everyone could secure such an opportunity.

As for today’s audition, Lin Yu felt confident inside. He extended two fingers and pinched Cui Yinghao’s cheek: “Put your heart back in your chest. This matter is easier than you losing weight.”

Cui Yinghao was Korean and the youngest member of the group. Having just turned twenty-one, standing at 180 cm tall with delicate features, his cheeks still carried a bit of baby fat. He loved to eat yet couldn’t control his appetite, constantly crying about losing weight while sneaking snacks everywhere like a little hamster, getting scolded by Jiang Shiyue on many occasions. Precisely because of this, his admiration for Lin Yu was absolute: not only could he handle the fierce “Sister Jiang,” but even after breaking up, he could still get her to continue fighting for resources for him. His call of “Yu-ge” was spoken in complete submission.

While the few of them were laughing and fooling around, the door to the dance studio was pushed open again. A face that was more than valiant but lacked feminine soft charm poked in: “Lin Yu, step out for a moment.”

Speak of the devil; the person who arrived was precisely Jiang Shiyue, who was in charge of managing the NF group. She was a top talent manager at Star Tide Entertainment, managing over a dozen artists under her wing, including the NF group. To the outside world, she was a “senior corporate worker” in front of capital investors; internally, however, she was the “CEO” for these dozen-plus young people.

Commercial performances, variety shows, endorsements, scripts, and promotional press releases all had to pass through her first. Schedule arrangements, assistant retention, and styling team personnel could all be replaced with a single word from her. Even drama contracts and brand endorsements required her nod before the legal department could follow up.

In the entertainment industry, instances of artists and managers dating were by no means rare. The more popular an artist was, the busier they became, surrounded by work nearly twenty-four hours a day. The person they were most familiar with was their manager, making “developing feelings over time” a high-probability event.

Jiang Shiyue was five years older than Lin Yu. Having tumbled through the vanity fair for many years, she was famously capable. She closed the glass door behind her back, sat down on the sofa, and spoke in an annoyed tone: “Are you really that certain you can pass the audition?”

Lin Yu was tinkering in front of the coffee machine. Hearing the question, he turned back and smiled, “Of course. Ever since I was rejected last time, I haven’t missed a single acting class.”

Once the coffee finished dripping, he carried it over and placed it before Jiang Shiyue, taking the opportunity to steer the conversation toward business: “Shiyue, you know our group’s album sales better than anyone, and the group variety show promised by the company remains indefinitely delayed. I must think of other ways. Acting during the downtime can also maintain my exposure…”

“Yo, since when did you become so invested in your career?” Jiang Shiyue was not easily fooled. After all, she had been managing him ever since he entered Star Tide, and she understood his usual style of doing things thoroughly. “If you were truly this motivated, you would have made a name for yourself long ago. Would you really have waited until today?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her almond eyes squinting at him. “Spill it, what exactly are you plotting?”

Jiang Shiyue was indeed sharp, but Lin Yu was a step ahead. Rather than rushing to answer, he stepped forward to unclamp her folded arms and pulled her into his embrace, lightly patting her back with his palm, an intimate movement that felt more like warmth between old friends, easily transforming a strong, assertive woman into a delicate girl.

With so many newcomers at Star Tide, why did she happen to fancy Lin Yu? Because the very first glance he gave her did not treat her as a boss. A pair of fox-like eyes looked her up and down with brazen appreciation, thin lips slightly raised, revealing a sense of admiration, the kind of admiration a man has for a woman.

Seeing her expression soften, Lin Yu immediately stepped back two paces. He had no choice but to make use of this trace of tenderness, yet he was completely unwilling to be entangled and enveloped by it as a result.

“Shiyue, I am twenty-four after all; it’s time I grew up. You created many opportunities for me before, and it was my own fault for not seizing them. But this drama is something I really want to film, and I want to film it well.” He displayed a rare look of sincerity. “You also know how popular this double-male lead drama is. Your previous concerns weren’t without reason; if filming this makes it difficult to transition to mainstream dramas later, that’s possible. But looking at it from the opposite perspective, if I don’t even have the opportunity to hone my skills, even if you painstakingly help me secure a good role, I probably wouldn’t be able to pull it off. Time waits for no one. I might as well risk it all and take it one step at a time. What do you think?”

Facing Su Qian and Jiang Shiyue, Lin Yu employed entirely different strategies.

As the CEO of Junlin Group, Su Qian was knowledgeable and experienced; he couldn’t fool her. On the contrary, being honest was what made her view him in a slightly higher light. Jiang Shiyue was different: currently, she was his direct superior, and she still retained lingering feelings for him. At this stage, if he were to tell her the truth, he would be a total idiot!

He let out a sigh and, for a fleeting moment, thought of the guilt the “Black Cat Sheriff” felt due to “deception.” Sure enough, people really are different! Someone like him wouldn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt over this kind of lie at all, and would even take advantage of it: “Shiyue, just help me arrange a dinner with Director Shi.” He bent down slightly, his tone softening as if acting coy, “Let me play this role; I promise I won’t embarrass Director Shi. Let’s chat first so I can do my homework in advance.”

Jiang Shiyue’s “Shi” was her mother’s surname; Director Shi was her cousin. On the surface, they had little contact, but privately, their relationship was very close. Having dated Jiang Shiyue for two years, Lin Yu naturally knew the inside story. Seeing her remain silent, he leaned closer again, tugging her arm and shaking it. “Is that a yes? Big beauty?”

He was the only one who dared to act so cheekily in front of her. Jiang Shiyue couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing with a pfft, “Alright, fine, wait for my news.”