Chapter 301 | Chapter 302 | Chapter 303
Chapter 301: Praise — Strong Sense of Acting
Nan Xun glanced at him, then calmly looked away as if nothing had happened.
Don’t be fooled by how composed she looked—her heart had thumped hard just a moment ago.
Holy crap. This scene overlapped perfectly with the midnight fantasies she’d had before: her idol turning into a seductive spirit and teasing her on the bed. Happiness had hit her too suddenly, leaving her completely unprepared.
“Hello, teachers. My name is Shan Shui. I’m here to audition for the role of Yang Yurou.” Nan Xun swept her gaze over the group, finally settling on the bald, middle-aged man in the center.
He was the one with the final say—the chief director of the drama, Wang Dong. The man to his left was likely the assistant director.
The moment Director Wang saw Shan Shui, a rare flash of satisfaction crossed his eyes. But after flipping through her résumé, his already long winter-melon-shaped face grew even longer.
“Who the hell shoved this person in here? Not professionally trained is one thing, but you don’t even have any acting experience? A complete newbie? Get out, get out—get the hell out of here!” Director Wang roared.
Nan Xun: “……”
Sure, geniuses often had strange tempers, but Director Wang’s temper was downright awful—shouting at a young girl like that.
If she hadn’t seen some things in the world, she probably would’ve burst into tears and run off on the spot.
Nan Xun subconsciously glanced at her idol, Ou Qian, only to find him watching her leisurely, his expression lazy and indifferent as ever.
Heh. Watching the show, are you? You heartless little enchantress—she even drew a sketch of him every single day.
As for the assistant director, he merely shook his head slightly, his face full of regret.
It was rare to find someone whose appearance fit the role so well, but with zero acting skills… even if the role didn’t require much acting, they couldn’t possibly cast someone with no experience at all.
“Director Wang, I only need two minutes,” Nan Xun said, looking at him earnestly.
Before the hot-tempered director could speak, Ou Qian spoke up first. He lazily yawned and asked, “Have you read the script? Act out the final scene—Yang Yurou’s assassination attempt on Ji Qing.”
As he spoke, his entire being exuded a languid ease. His beauty was like opium—addictive.
Ou Qian’s sudden intervention stunned both Director Wang and the assistant director. They looked at him in surprise.
Ou Qian shrugged slightly and shot them a sideways glance. “Such a beauty is worth giving one chance.”
Director Wang was screaming internally: A chance my ass! Yang Yurou’s role barely needed acting—except for that one crucial scene: assassinating her enemy Ji Qing, failing, and dying instead. Even skilled actors might not pull off that final scene well, and you’re letting a girl with zero experience act it?!
Nan Xun’s eyes flickered. She didn’t give them time to change their minds. She suddenly spun backward a few times, then began to dance lightly in the center.
Director Wang and the assistant director exchanged a look.
Tsk. She’s trained—has some dance foundation.
Nan Xun had already become Yang Yurou.
After witnessing her parents’ murder, Yang Yurou vowed revenge. Disguised as a dancer, she infiltrated her enemy Ji Qing’s residence and performed a dance at his birthday banquet.
At first, the dancer’s gaze was hollow, hiding towering hatred and murderous intent. But soon, she concealed all of it. Her eyes shimmered like rippling water as they casually swept over the man before her, silently luring him in.
Director Wang’s mouth fell slightly open. He noticed that the direction she was looking was Ou Qian—she was treating him as her mortal enemy.
She was immersed in the role.
Her graceful dance soon caught Ji Qing’s attention.
Ou Qian leaned forward slightly, his thin lips curving as interest flickered in his eyes.
Director Wang’s jaw nearly dropped. The famously aloof Ou Qian was actually getting drawn into the scene!
In a flash, the dancing beauty suddenly leapt into the air, her body spinning into a horizontal split midair.
Director Wang grabbed the assistant director’s hand in fright. The assistant director’s face twisted, but he didn’t make a sound—afraid to interrupt her performance.
The dancer landed lightly, used the ground to spring up again, and then landed on the table in front of Ou Qian.
An ordinary person crashing down from midair would’ve made a loud thud, but Shan Shui seemed to possess real qinggong—the table merely shook gently.
She lay sideways on the table and leaned toward the man, her arms winding around his neck like water snakes. Looking into his eyes, she smiled coyly. “My lord, how was my dance?”
The man wrapped an arm around her slender waist and pulled the beauty into his arms, commenting with interest, “The dance was beautiful. The dancer even more so.”
Director Wang, who had been watching from the sidelines, almost reminded him that the line was wrong—but then stopped. The meaning was close enough. Besides, Ou Qian probably hadn’t memorized the script anyway.
Encouraged by his words, Nan Xun grew bolder. Her watery eyes locked onto his, invisible hooks flying out to entangle him completely. Her delicate fingers caressed his handsome face, fingertips brushing his cheek, making his skin itch.
Her soft pink lips slowly moved closer. Their noses touched, but her lips stopped just 0.01 centimeters from his.
She teased him with her eyes as she breathed softly, calling out, “My lord~”
The fragrant breath seemed to slip through his parted lips. Their breaths tangled, the air thick with ambiguity.
Ou Qian’s lips suddenly curved. As the woman arched backward, he leaned down and kissed her.
At that instant, her half-closed eyes snapped open, monstrous hatred and killing intent bursting forth.
“Ji Qing, you bastard—die!” she shouted. Her right hand had already pulled the hairpin from her bun, stabbing viciously toward his back.
Ou Qian reacted instantly, twisting his body slightly. The imaginary hairpin only pierced his left arm.
“Cut!” Director Wang suddenly shouted.
At some point, he had stood up, his eyes blazing as he stared at the woman in Ou Qian’s arms.
Nan Xun quickly rose from his embrace and stood obediently to the side like a well-behaved girl. She said gratefully to Ou Qian, “Thank you for acting with me just now, senior. You’re amazing.”
Ou Qian narrowed his eyes at her. After a long moment, he said, “Good sense of acting. Not inferior to professionally trained actors. If Director Wang doesn’t choose you, he might just be going blind.”
Director Wang: “……”
Chapter 302: Heh, Worthy of Being My Fan
Director Wang’s mouth twitched. “Brother Ou, if you want to keep her, you don’t have to tease me like this.”
As he spoke, he rapped the table and made the final call.
“Yang Yurou—it’s you. I’ll have someone send the contract to your company tomorrow morning.”
The assistant director couldn’t help whispering a reminder, “Director Wang, what about President Wang on the investors’ side?”
Director Wang glared. “What about him? This is my drama. What I say goes. I hate it most when investors point fingers at my crew. If he wants to pull funding over such a tiny role, then let him. I’ve got plenty of investors!”
Hearing this, Nan Xun thought to herself that Yang Yurou’s role really had been internally decided. It was just that Director Wang hadn’t given the other side a firm answer yet. Now that he’d taken a liking to her, with his decisive personality, the role was definitely hers.
Director Wang truly lived up to his reputation—what presence.
Nan Xun politely thanked them and left through the other door. Before going, she sneakily glanced at the male god—only to find that his head had tilted, his waist gone slack, and he’d already fallen asleep on the table, using his arm as a pillow.
Director Wang roared, “Ou Qian! Why are you sleeping again?! I called you here to help audition actors, not to nap!”
Ou Qian muttered lazily, “Sleepy. Lately we’ve been filming until late at night.”
Director Wang’s voice instantly dropped. He scolded him gruffly, “You’re still young—take care of your health. Don’t push yourself so hard, or you’ll ruin your kidneys later.”
“Pfft!” Nan Xun couldn’t hold back her laughter. Realizing her slip, she hurried off at top speed, afraid they might change their minds.
The sleeping man slowly lifted his head and glanced toward the door, letting out a soft snort.
“Kids these days—so lawless they even dare laugh at me.”
Director Wang shot him a sideways look. “Stop bullshitting. Tell me honestly—did you notice this rough gem early on, and that’s why you had her perform the most demanding scene?”
Ou Qian looked a little less sleepy. Propping his head on his hand, he glanced at Director Wang and chuckled inexplicably.
“A small fan of mine wanted to enter the entertainment industry. I just gave her a hand. Even I was surprised by that audition just now. Heh—worthy of being my fan.”
Director Wang: “……”
Looking at that smug, rippling-with-pride expression, he really wanted to punch him.
But he didn’t dare. If even a single hair on Ou Qian’s head went missing, those tens of millions—nearly a hundred million—fans on Manman would drown him in spit.
That night, Nan Xun was in unusually high spirits. After showering, she started on a new masterpiece.
This time she drew with great detail, taking a full hour and a half.
On the paper was a man in profile—every eyelash clearly visible. His straight nose looked perfect from the side; his eyes were half-closed, thin lips slightly parted, the beautiful curve carrying a hint of seduction and decadence. Between his lips, the tip of a tongue peeked out from within, faintly curled upward.
His head was tilted back slightly, because a slender jade-like hand was lifting his chin. Opposite him was an abstract profile of a woman—very simplified, yet her sensual lips were drawn irresistibly alluring.
Those lips, seeming to glisten with dew, were just a hair’s breadth away from kissing the man.
Nan Xun giggled at her work for a while, then took a photo and uploaded it to Manman with a caption:
Believe it or not, I almost kissed Ou Qian the little enchantress today!
In mere seconds, the comments ignited like a raging fire.
When My Black Hair Turns White: Holy crap—ahhh! Ou Qian little enchantress again!
Cathy Ying: Awooo—I’m automatically imagining that hand lifting his chin is me, me!!
Xixi: No, Ou little enchantress is mine! Nobody fight me!
Spin Spin Crash Into Wall: Miss Shan Shui is fantasizing again—but I love it, awooo!!
Wisteria: Miss Shan Shui, I’m officially your brainless fan. Please accept my kneeling worship!
……
From being trashed to oblivion at the start, to now being eagerly adored—Nan Xun didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Ou Qian’s fanbase was massive, ranging from seven- or eight-year-olds to people in their sixties or seventies. Her own following had grown to two million, and she had no doubt that a large portion had defected from Ou Qian’s camp. Most of them were young and emotionally volatile—an unrestrained generation who loved loudly and hated purely.
Their love was intense and delightful; their hatred, equally overwhelming.
Nan Xun liked people who loved and hated so purely—but the key was that their understanding was sometimes immature.
If possible, she hoped to slowly guide her fans toward rational thinking. Passionate yet rational people were always the most lovable.
In her excellent mood, seeing that it was still early, Nan Xun drew another simple sketch.
In it, Male God Ou Qian was resting his head on his arm, the background simplified, while his sleeping face was drawn vividly lifelike.
At the end, thinking of something, Nan Xun snorted with laughter and added a glistening strand of liquid at the corner of his lips.
Yes—that was… drool.
She uploaded this second sketch of the day as a fan benefit, with the usual caption:
Ou Qian little enchantress, remember to rest well. Don’t ruin your kidneys later.
Seeking Deer: Ahhh—fan service!! My male god looks so cute sleeping—and he’s drooling!
Dizzy Bug: Ou little enchantress, take good care of yourself! Lack of sleep can hurt your kidneys—my girl is totally right.
Ye Xiaomiao: Seeing a man drooling like this makes me laugh for no reason, hahaha…
Drifting Ghost: Hahahahaha…
Sleepy Boss: Hahahahahaha…
Nan Xun stared at the post for a long while. Only after some time did she wish her fans good night, then logged out of Manman.
She wondered whether the ever-elusive Male God Ou Qian had seen today’s works. And if he had—what his reaction would be. Would he be so angry his face turned black?
Hahaha…
Nan Xun burst out laughing, rolling around on the bed a few times. Once she finally calmed down, she asked Little Eight, “So—what was the big boss’s first impression of me today?”
Little Eight replied, “The hell would I know? I’m not a worm in his stomach.”
Nan Xun shot back, “Didn’t you say you can sense people’s emotions?”
Little Eight snorted. “Only when emotions are super intense. I didn’t feel anything today—and the big boss’s malice value didn’t drop at all.”
Nan Xun wasn’t surprised. If the big boss’s malice value were that easy to reduce, he wouldn’t be the big boss.
Little Eight said gloomily, “You tempted him so hard today and he still didn’t react at all. Don’t tell me he’s frigid?”
Nan Xun froze for a moment, then laughed oddly, “Heh… honestly, I really hope he is.”
Chapter 303: Ahhh, Noticed by My Idol
The next day, Zhao Rui could barely hide the joy on his face, “Dan Shui, I really underestimated you. You actually landed the role of Yang Yurou!”
After yesterday’s audition, Zhao Rui had asked about how it went. Nan Xun had modestly said it was “okay.”
Hearing that, Zhao Rui had assumed it was a long shot and even comforted her, telling her to keep her spirits up. Who would’ve thought that the very next day, the contract would be in his hands?
“You’re still a newcomer just starting out, so a lower pay is normal. Don’t focus on the money,” Zhao Rui advised. “There are a lot of veteran actors in this production. Keep a low profile and learn humbly from them.”
Nan Xun couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry, Brother Zhao. I understand.”
She hadn’t entered the entertainment industry for money anyway. No matter how much she earned, she wouldn’t be able to take it with her when she left.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Zhao Rui continued. “The male lead is last year’s Best Actor, Lin Yufan. When you’re acting with him, you must be focused. Don’t mess up with too many NGs, or you’ll annoy people. And the female lead is the popular actress Song Jiayue—her personality isn’t great, so be careful. Also…”
Nan Xun didn’t interrupt him and listened attentively to all his reminders.
In truth, she was excited too. Even though she was confident in her acting ability, performing in front of a camera was completely different. In this field, she was a total novice.
Suddenly remembering something, Zhao Rui added, “Dan Shui, don’t keep uploading Ou Qian’s sketches on Mantou anymore. You don’t have much fame right now, so not many people are attacking you. But once you gain popularity, haters will appear. What you’re doing now will be called clinging to your idol’s fame—cold face, hot backside.”
When it came to her idol, Nan Xun’s attitude became extremely firm, “Brother Zhao, I can agree to anything else—but not this. No one has the right to take away my freedom to like my idol. Let people say whatever they want. Haters or trolls, I’m not afraid. It won’t cost me a piece of flesh. Unless my idol personally tells me that my actions bother him, I won’t stop expressing my love for him.”
Zhao Rui held his forehead, feeling a headache coming on.
He could already imagine how busy he’d be in the future, putting out fires everywhere.
Zhao Rui compromised. “Fine, I won’t stop you from posting Ou Qian’s sketches. But I’m begging you—tone it down a bit. Don’t draw Film Emperor Ou Qian looking so… suggestive.”
Nan Xun looked innocent. “Is it really that suggestive? My idol hasn’t said anything about it.”
Zhao Rui nearly jumped up. “What did you say? Ou Qian has already seen them?”
Nan Xun glanced at him. “It’d be stranger if he hadn’t. I’ve been drawing him every day for over a month.”
Zhao Rui had been busy securing resources lately and hadn’t paid much attention to Dan Shui’s Mantou account. He only occasionally glanced at it and noticed it was filled with sketches of Ou Qian, each paired with bold, fiery captions.
He admired her versatility but worried that her overly honest—really, shameless—behavior would attract more and more haters.
Seeing his concern, Nan Xun logged into Mantou and showed him the comment section.
“Brother Zhao, look. The fans are pretty friendly right now.”
Zhao Rui shook his head and said seriously, “Dan Shui, trust me. I’ve been in this business longer than you. There are too many irrational fans these days. Today they love you to death, but the moment a negative story about you comes out, they’ll be led astray. Turning from fan to hater can happen in minutes.”
Nan Xun smiled at him, “I know what you’re worried about. But after the tides wash away the sand, only gold remains. I believe the fans who stay with me through storms are the ones truly worth cherishing. As for the rest, whether they hate or curse me—it doesn’t matter.”
Zhao Rui sighed. “It’s good if you can think like that. I just worry you won’t be able to handle it when a real storm hits.”
He changed the subject. “The script’s already been given to you. Study it when you have time. We have veteran acting instructors in the company—ask them if you don’t understand anything.”
“Brother, I only appear in five episodes,” Nan Xun complained. “You’re making it sound like I’m the female lead.”
Zhao Rui’s expression turned stern, “I don’t care whether you’re the lead, a supporting role, or even an extra. You must give it one hundred percent. Do you know that famous A-list actor? He ran bit parts for ten whole years before becoming famous. When audiences look back at his old roles now, it’s nothing but praise—because even when he was an extra in trash dramas, he acted with sincerity.”
After being force-fed a whole bowl of motivational chicken soup, Nan Xun felt full even without eating.
The two were chatting about dreams and life when suddenly—ding—Nan Xun’s phone chimed.
On Mantou, that sound only played when someone you follow follows you back.
Nan Xun thought about who she’d followed recently. Just Zhao Rui and the official Yixin Entertainment account—both had already followed her.
She picked up her phone and opened the notification, seeing a very official message:
“Ou Qian, whom you follow, has followed you back.”
Nan Xun froze.
Zhao Rui leaned over to take a look—and instantly lost all composure. He snatched the phone, eyes practically drilling into the screen.
“Holy shit! Ou Qian actually followed you?!”
Nan Xun didn’t understand why Zhao Rui was so excited. She’d always assumed Ou Qian had already been following her—just secretly. Otherwise, how would he know when she posted updates?
Could it be that every time he wanted to see her sketches, he searched for her Mantou account?
Wasn’t that kind of silly?
Zhao Rui cursed several times in excitement, “Even actresses who’ve acted with Ou Qian don’t necessarily get followed by him! Girl, what kind of insane luck do you have to catch Film Emperor Ou Qian’s eye?”
Nan Xun: …
Was it really that big a deal? It felt like being noticed by her idol was being treated as something even more exciting than winning five million.
But she quickly understood why.
Within just a few minutes, her Mantou followers surged by fifty thousand, and the comment section exploded once again.
XiaoXuanzi0714: Found out my idol followed a female celebrity, rushed over to watch. Leaving a mark.
Ou Qian Is My Husband: What the hell? The last time my husband followed a female star was two years ago! Who is this Dan Shui? She’s totally unknown!
That Unlucky Kid Is Me: My idol never follows the usual crowd—he follows directors, producers, screenwriters, artists. Who is this Dan Shui? Never heard of her.
Yan Zi: Are you really Ou Qian’s fan? You don’t even know who Dan Shui is? She’s the one Ou Qian personally praised. She posts a hand-drawn portrait of him every day.
Saving Money for Mantou: No words. Posting Dan Shui’s hand-drawn Ou Qian right now. Beautiful Demon Bath Sketch.JPG
Exaggeration King: AHHH my HP bar is empty!
Yue Ya’er: AHHHHH my HP bar is empty!!
Dirty Granny: Welcome to the “HP Bar Empty” army.
Zhao Rui’s mouth hung open in an O-shape. He immediately declared, “Dan Shui, sweetheart, you must keep drawing Ou Qian’s sketches every day. Brother Zhao fully supports you!”
Nan Xun: …
