The Villainess A Marked the Seductive Movie Queen - Chapter 7
Chapter 7: Opportunity
Liu Yitong and Jiang Qi both focused their attention on Zhang Lishen.
Zhang Lishen turned his phone around and pushed it across the table toward Liu Yitong. He spoke bluntly:
“Are these news reports true? Did you hit someone?”
“…”
Liu Yitong didn’t even need to look closely at the phone to know which news stories he had found. Lying was pointless. She nodded honestly. “Yes.”
After a moment of silence, receiving no immediate response from Zhang Lishen, Liu Yitong felt a flicker of anxiety. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Finally, Zhang Lishen continued:
“Why didn’t you consider auditioning for the antagonist—this second female lead?”
Upon hearing this, Liu Yitong looked surprised. But even more shocked was Jiang Qi, sitting beside the director.
Jiang Qi was momentarily speechless, wondering if she had misunderstood him. She looked at Zhang Lishen and observed that the director, who had been disinterested until now, seemed calm on the surface but had a spark of excitement suppressed in his eyes.
She hadn’t misunderstood.
Zhang Lishen was planning to give this girl a second chance?
It was true that Director Zhang didn’t care about “traffic” or public reputation; he only cared about an actor’s intrinsic ability. But why?
In the past, many popular and talented actors had been rejected simply because they picked the wrong role to audition for. Even if there was another role they were perfectly suited for, Zhang Lishen wouldn’t give them a retake, dismissing them with the phrase: “Insufficient self-awareness.”
Why give Liu Yitong a second chance?
“Re-enact this scene,” Zhang Lishen said, pushing a new script across the table. He added a reminder: “Try to channel your mindset and the physical sensation from when you were actually hitting that person.”
Liu Yitong took the script. Unsurprisingly, it was a scene where the antagonist torments the protagonist.
The antagonist, a “scumbag Alpha” second female lead, has a massive role that carries through the entire story. She starts as a sweet girl cared for by the Omega protagonist, but upon returning from abroad, she finds the protagonist has a lover and is rejected with the excuse: “I only see you as a younger sister.”
The girl then turns dark, resorting to coercion and forced marking as the protagonist’s mental state collapses. Then, on her wedding day, her personality shifts again—becoming understanding and kind, as if she were possessed or had truly reformed to live a good life with the protagonist.
But the protagonist isn’t “love-brained.” She isn’t fooled by hollow affection. Brave and resourceful, the protagonist weaves a trap of false intimacy, completing a “counterkill” just as the antagonist drowns in the “gentle village” of their relationship, eventually returning to her true lover’s arms.
The protagonist and this antagonist are the core of the script. Their character arcs are complex and complete, making them extremely difficult to play.
There was no doubt Ruan Minxue could handle her part. The question was: could a “mad yet sweet” antagonist really be handed to this newcomer?
Jiang Qi was skeptical.
Soon, the girl’s performance confirmed Jiang Qi’s professional judgment: it wasn’t working.
Even though Zhang Lishen had specifically reminded her to channel her real-life ruthlessness, Liu Yitong’s execution of the scene—confronting and choking the protagonist—still felt superficial. It was “fierce,” but it was clearly “acting.”
She tried, but it wasn’t enough. What a waste of the second chance Director Zhang gave her, Jiang Qi thought regretfully.
But there was nothing to be done. She and Director Zhang had already agreed that casting the second lead would be the hardest part. If they couldn’t find a suitable young actress, they would rather sacrifice the “age-appropriateness” of the role and hire a veteran actress to ensure the quality of the performance.
Just as Jiang Qi sighed, she heard the sound of a chair moving. She turned to see Zhang Lishen standing up. He was unbuttoning the cuffs of his linen shirt and rolling up his sleeves.
This posture looked like… he was going to guide her personally?
Jiang Qi’s eyes widened in disbelief. Guiding newcomers and stimulating their potential was something she did often as an acting teacher. But Zhang Lishen rarely did this. He was irritable and lacked patience. For him to personally step in during an audition was unheard of.
Furthermore, counting the previous roles, this was already the third chance Zhang Lishen was giving Liu Yitong!
Why was he doing this for her?
Soon, Jiang Qi heard Zhang Lishen’s answer.
“I already reminded you that you could channel your real experiences. Why didn’t you?” Zhang Lishen smiled as he walked toward Liu Yitong, folding his sleeves. “Why are you afraid of self-exploration? What are you fearing? Is it that you can’t control yourself? Are you afraid the fever will consume your ego?”
Though the middle-aged man was smiling, Liu Yitong’s eyes darkened as she immediately went on guard. Like a sensitive young beast, she sensed a familiar aura from him: a sense of manic perversity.
“The more you hide it, the more curious I get. What does that aura you try to hide with ‘calmness’ actually look like when it’s completely released?”
Zhang Lishen’s words made Liu Yitong uncomfortable—the discomfort of being seen through. He was indeed a famous director with a sharp eye and piercing words, capable of easily triggering a reaction from the usually stoic girl.
Faced with her lowered brow and those heart-stopping “sanpaku” eyes (where the white is visible below the iris), Zhang Lishen felt an instinctive shiver. Yet, he laughed in response to the physical rejection, his expression filled with a kind of manic pleasure.
“That’s the look. That’s why I want to bet on you. Do you know what the keyword for this character is?”
Liu Yitong held her breath. After a moment, she answered: “Madness?”
“Correct!” Zhang Lishen said with satisfaction. “I need an actor to have an extreme, overflowing ‘madness.’ In this industry, love can be faked, but ‘madness’ is hard to act. If you don’t do it right, you just look like an idiot or someone putting on a front—especially when your scene partner is Ruan Minxue.”
“…”
“Many young actors do well in private but can’t hold their own against Ruan Minxue on set. Maybe it’s awe for her as a senior, or maybe her style is too strong. Actors need a lot of work to overcome their instincts to match her, and young people lack the time and experience.”
Zhang Lishen spoke eloquently, but then his tone turned ice-cold:
“But I don’t have time to wait for someone to grow. I need an actor who, the moment they stand before me, is already ‘mad’ enough. Mad enough to be insubordinate, mad enough to reach the peak! Being ‘clumsy’ to the point where I can tell you’re acting is far from enough.”
Zhang Lishen’s provocative smile stung Liu Yitong’s eyes. Her vision reddened, and her clenched fists trembled slightly. Her complex emotions at this moment had many triggers: Ruan Minxue, Zhang Lishen, and herself…
The anger, piled up like a venomous ritual, reminded her of one person. Her father.
Liu Yitong’s breathing became rapid. She gritted her teeth to suppress it, but she was pushed to the limit by Zhang Lishen’s next words:
“Now, treat me as your opponent. Go mad at me. Let me see if you are worthy of standing in front of Ruan Minxue. If you aren’t, then get out.”
Liu Yitong took a deep breath. She unlocked the shackles in her mind, releasing every memory of her father, every moment of the most unbearable parts of her life, and ruminating on the most out-of-control rage from the days she spent rolling in the mud.
She hated her Alpha identity, and not just because of Ruan Minxue. It was because the memory of the night she differentiated was tied completely to her father.
After her mother lost consciousness on the floor, her father turned to choke her. His brute force clamped around the thin girl’s neck, cutting off her breath. She was almost lifted off the ground. Her nails dug into the man’s hands, nearly sinking into his flesh, but he didn’t let go.
On the edge of life and death, only instinct remained. No humanity, no kindness, no moral compass. Through the red mist in her eyes, she glimpsed a corner of purgatory. When her hatred reached its peak, she let the karmic fire burn through every pair of genes in her body, transforming her into a blade of “counterkill.”
When she came to, she smelled the blood from her own ruptured respiratory tract—and a room filled with pheromones so heavy the air could barely circulate.
She knew she had differentiated. In the midst of extreme hatred.
She heard her father’s hoarse pleas beneath her hands. She laughed maniacally as she tightened her grip on his throat. She wanted him to taste the despair of being unable to resist. She wanted to drag him to hell with her.
At the moment his struggle weakened, a flicker of light suddenly broke through the red mist. She vaguely saw someone in the light, smiling—gentle and bright. Someone was leading her back to the human world, allowing her to see her mother in that split second.
If she killed him here, she would have to pay the price. If she was gone, her mother would have nothing left to live for. She would be completely destroyed. For her mother’s sake, she had to hold back.
Starting from her stinging eyes, her senses flooded back into her control. She withdrew her hand from her father’s—no, from Zhang Lishen’s—neck.
She knelt weakly on the ground, head bowed, tears falling. They landed on Zhang Lishen’s face.
Liu Yitong blinked, looking lost and soul-shaken. She saw Jiang Qi stand up in shock, her hand reaching out as if terrified and wanting to stop her. She saw Zhang Lishen, whom she had pinned to the ground, sit up. His neck was clearly bruised red, yet he was smiling—he even began to applaud with genuine surprise.
Liu Yitong was back.
“I knew it… cough… I knew I didn’t misjudge you!”
“Director Zhang, are you okay? …Child? Yitong? Liu Yitong? Are you alright?”
It was unclear if the calls from her surroundings reached the girl’s ears. Even as she was ushered out the door after a short rest, Liu Yitong’s expression remained dazed.
After closing the door, Jiang Qi turned around, patting her chest and exhaling. “Director Zhang, you really scared me!”
Zhang Lishen was indifferent to the bruises on his neck. He only said: “It’s part of the job. Ruan Minxue is an acting fanatic too; she will definitely like this kid.”
“That girl is indeed very ‘spiritual,’ which is rare. But Director Zhang, how did you know she could do it? Why give her three chances specifically?”
Zhang Lishen recalled something and said casually: “Probably because… she’s the first person I’ve seen who made Ruan Minxue take an extra notice.”
Jiang Qi was surprised. “Was she recommended by Ms. Ruan?”
“No,” Zhang Lishen waved his hand. “I let Ruan Minxue participate in the resume screening. She has both inspiration and experience; she judges people very accurately and quickly. She usually just scans photos and experiences once and never looks back.”
“And then?”
“Only with Liu Yitong’s resume did she flip back after quickly passing it. Ruan Minxue stared at Liu Yitong’s photo for almost ten seconds—longer than any other candidate.”
Jiang Qi guessed: “So, Ms. Ruan selected this girl?”
“No. She threw Liu Yitong’s resume into the ‘rejected’ pile.” Zhang Lishen shrugged but smiled. “But knowing Ruan Minxue as I do, I had a hunch. That one look she gave made it worth betting three chances on Liu Yitong.”
He paused, then added: “The kid held her own. She didn’t waste the chances.”