Chapter Twenty-Six: The Maiden's Audition

This was the real Vivian Chow! Watching the woman step out of the dressing room, Yan Xu was momentarily rooted to the spot, his eyes seemingly unable to take in enough at once.

Her silky long hair cascaded over her shoulders, with her bangs freshly trimmed to reveal two dark, delicately arched brows. Gone were the old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses, exposing her large, luminous eyes in full; those clear pupils looked as if they could see straight into one’s soul. Her tender skin was flawless, smooth and creamy as white jade, and her rosy lips, pressed together, completely concealed her dental braces. The corners of her mouth curved upward in a sweet, enchanting smile—just that smile was enough to make one’s heart soar. She was the very picture of elegance: hair as dark as ink, brows like painted willow leaves, skin as radiant as spring’s first snow. Fairies were not merely the stuff of legend; with one backward glance, she could bring a hundred charms to life.

She had changed her top too, now wearing a wide-necked batwing blouse in white with tiny pink blossoms. The cut revealed her slender, snow-white arms and an alluring collarbone that needed no embellishment—it was already a sight of breathtaking beauty. With pure white high heels on her feet, her already impressive height of one meter sixty-eight seemed even more statuesque. She stood tall and graceful.

“Ah Xu, you certainly have an eye for beauty. Finding a woman like this—it’s impressive.” Besides Yan Xu, who was utterly captivated, Nine, who had been at his side, stared in astonishment. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that the woman before him was the same “Steel Teeth Girl” from earlier.

“Well? If she plays the leading lady, there’s no problem, right?” Yan Xu smiled faintly. Vivian Chow’s stunning transformation had ensnared even him, a man who had already witnessed her beauty—how much more would it shock those who hadn’t? For them, this would be nothing short of a revelation.

“Of course! Of course there’s no problem,” Nine quickly nodded. If a beauty like this wasn’t good enough, then no one would be.

Just moments ago, Nine had been full of doubt at how much importance Yan Xu placed on Vivian Chow—especially when Yan Xu hinted that she should play the film’s heroine. He’d even wondered if Yan Xu’s judgment was off. When Yan Xu told the makeup artist to take Vivian Chow away for a makeover, Nine had thought it a complete waste of time. But now, reality had blown away all his doubts like a hurricane, and left him with a profound respect for Yan Xu’s discerning eye, far sharper than his own.

Vivian Chow walked up to Yan Xu and Nine with poise, spinning in a slow circle before them. “Well?” she asked.

“You look fantastic!” Yan Xu said, looking her over. “You’ve read the script, right?” He’d already arranged for the script to be sent to her while she was having her makeup done.

“I have!” Vivian nodded. “This scene here.” She opened the script in front of Yan Xu, pointing to a section.

“All right, let’s begin,” Yan Xu said, glancing at the page. It was the first scene for the female reporter.

“Hey, don’t play games—tell me now, who were you with last night?” Yan Xu read the line from the script.

Vivian Chow pulled a chair over, sat down opposite Yan Xu, leaned back, and crossed her legs on the table in front of him. With a look of impatience, she answered, “Junkies.”

“What?” Yan Xu continued, a little startled by her sudden attitude, but inwardly he nodded with approval. She already understood how to use body language—a good sign for someone with no experience.

“Junkies. The kind who take hallucinogens, shoot up,” Vivian replied, not even looking up as she fiddled with her nails.

“Where are they now?” Yan Xu watched her every move and expression.

“How should I know?” Vivian dropped her hands and lowered her legs, leaning forward and gripping the edge of her chair.

“What do you think? Those druggies are never any good. Of course there’s a whole squad out to deal with them!” Yan Xu raised his voice.

“I don’t know,” Vivian replied, flipping the table with a defiant gesture.

“If you don’t talk, I’ll rough you up!”

“Go ahead and try,” Vivian shot back, pointing at Yan Xu with a swagger that was pure delinquent girl.

“Good, very good!” Yan Xu called a halt to their performance. Though Vivian seemed a little shy, her delivery was more than satisfactory, and she was relaxed, showing no signs of nerves.

“Really? Am I good enough?” Vivian looked at Yan Xu, voicing the question that mattered most to her.

“Yes. You’re the leading lady now,” Yan Xu replied.

“I get to play the lead?” Though the lines were for the female lead, Vivian had never imagined she’d actually get the role. At best, she’d expected a small part with a few lines—she’d never dared dream of the starring role; it seemed impossibly out of reach. Yan Xu’s words shocked her so much she nearly leapt from her seat. She even wondered if she’d misheard.

“Of course. But if you don’t want the part, we could find you another role,” Yan Xu said.

“No! No!” Vivian shook her head vigorously. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” Every girl has her own starry dream. Though Vivian’s ambition had always been to become a painter, that didn’t mean she didn’t harbor such fantasies. For her, being a painter seemed more realistic than being a star, but now, out of the blue, an enormous opportunity had landed in her lap. She was so excited she didn’t know what to say. She’d only come to audition for a small part to earn some extra money for her family—and suddenly she was cast as the protagonist. It was like winning the lottery. Though she tried to appear mature, she was, after all, just a seventeen-year-old girl.

“Thank you, Director! Thank you!” Vivian grasped Yan Xu’s hand tightly, all composure forgotten.

Watching her, Yan Xu felt a sweet warmth in his heart—a thrill even greater than when he’d discovered Ge Minghui. With her soft hand in his, his heartbeat quickened; she was the future goddess of pure beauty, once the very idol of his dreams.

Yan Xu was no saint—expecting a man to be immune to beauty was as likely as a pig climbing a tree. He held Vivian’s delicate hand, gazing at her pure face, and couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander.

“Director! Director!” Vivian’s voice jolted him from his daze, and she withdrew her hand. Whether from joy or shy embarrassment at having taken the initiative to hold a man’s hand, her cheeks were tinged with pink.

“No need for ‘Director’—you’re the leading lady of my film now, don’t be so formal. Call me by my name, or just Ah Xu,” Yan Xu said, savoring the lingering warmth in his palm.

“Then I’ll call you Brother Xu,” Vivian smiled.

“Good, Brother Xu it is.” Yan Xu was delighted. “Brother and sister”—many things begin with those words.

“Brother Xu, may I ask, if I take this role, what will my pay be?” Vivian had no agent; she had to negotiate everything herself.

“Well, since you’re calling me ‘brother’ already, I certainly won’t let my little sister be shortchanged. You’ll get twenty thousand for this film. How’s that?” Yan Xu said. At that time, the highest-paid star in a film was Sam Hui; three years ago, “Aces Go Places” had set a precedent with a two-million fee. Luxury homes in Mid-Levels then cost only four or five hundred thousand, and in a few years house prices had multiplied several times. A film’s budget was two to three million, with first-tier stars earning dozens of thousands, many leading actresses getting just over ten thousand, and someone like Eddy Ko, after winning Taiwan’s Golden Horse, only got a little over ten thousand per film. Third-tier actors made just a few thousand per film. For a newcomer like her, ten thousand was already a high price; Yan Xu offering twenty thousand was extremely generous, nearly matching some second-tier stars.

“Twenty thousand? That much?” Vivian was amazed. Even a college graduate might not make that much in a year; she could hardly believe how lucrative acting could be.

“It’s not that much. Once you finish this film, I guarantee your fee will climb even higher. If you become famous, even a fraction could be more than this.” Yan Xu looked at her. If she knew that one day she’d make six figures just for a ribbon-cutting, or millions for a single commercial, she would be even more astonished.