Shen Rui didn't argue when Lin Xie said she wanted to try acting.
He didn't even blink.
He simply said, "Alright," then picked up his phone, made a quiet call, and by the next morning, Lin Xie was informed that she had a private audition scheduled with one of the most legendary directors in Asia—Qi Xinyuan.
Not a sprightly avant-garde woman, as she'd half-assumed.
But a fifty-eight-year-old bald man with a cigarette tucked behind one ear, two pairs of glasses hanging from his neck, and the constant aura of someone ten seconds away from yelling at the sky.
Director Qi had been in the industry longer than some actors had been alive. Known for his brutal honesty, million-yuan tempers, and obsession with "faces that can kill gods."
And now, he was sitting in a folding chair inside a cavernous rehearsal studio, chewing on the end of a pen as he glared at Lin Xie's résumé like it personally offended him.
"You've never acted before," he said flatly.
Lin Xie stood in front of him, back straight, arms loosely at her sides. "Correct."
"You've never even done theater? Not even student plays?"
"No."
"You're not in drama school?"
"No."
"Are you secretly a veteran actress in disguise?"
"No."
"…So what the hell are you doing here?"
"She wanted to try acting," came Shen Rui's voice, calm and indifferent from where he leaned by the doorway.
Director Qi blinked at him, then turned back to Lin Xie.
"…And you're dating him?"
"Yes."
Qi Xinyuan rubbed his face. "Right. Of course. I should've known. Rich young master brings his girlfriend in to play dress-up on my casting couch."
"I don't want your couch," Lin Xie replied, voice flat.
Qi paused.
"…Are you being sarcastic?"
"No."
"Then sit over there and read the scene. We'll do this the old-fashioned way. Cold reading. Don't embarrass me."
She took the script from his assistant, sat down, and read in silence for exactly four minutes.
Then stood, walked back to the mark taped on the studio floor, and stared at the setup.
A single chair. A standing mic. Harsh white lighting. A young male actor standing to the side, already sweating through his undershirt.
Qi grunted. "Alright. You're the villain. An elegant, composed mastermind who controls an underground empire. The ex-boyfriend—" he pointed at the shaking actor, "—begs you for a second chance."
He pointed again. "You're eating grapes."
A stagehand handed her a bunch.
She plucked one silently. Bit into it. Let the pause hang.
Then, with surgical precision, Lin Xie lifted her eyes to the actor and spoke:
"That sounds like a you problem."
The entire room held its breath.
Qi Xinyuan's glasses slid off his forehead.
Lin Xie turned away slowly, sat in the chair, crossed her legs, and picked up another grape.
The actor hesitated. "I-I know I made mistakes, but I've changed. I did it all for you—"
"You should've done it for yourself." Her tone was clipped, cold. "That's what change is for."
Another beat.
"Unless you're looking for applause. In that case… wrong audience."
Qi stood up.
The assistants stopped moving.
She didn't break character. She kept eating grapes like they were data points. Like she was running emotional diagnostics in real time.
"Alright, alright, alright," Qi barked suddenly, slapping his script down on a metal table. "That's enough. That's—Jesus—that's it."
He marched toward her. Lin Xie looked up, unblinking.
He stared into her face, this strange, unreadable girl with the composure of a high-level assassin and the posture of a chess grandmaster.
"…Who trained you?" he demanded.
"No one."
"No one trains that stillness."
"I'm naturally quiet."
Qi turned and pointed at Shen Rui. "Are you sure she's not from MI6?!"
Shen Rui shrugged, almost smug. "She's mine."
Qi pointed back at her. "You. Don't move. Don't sign anything. We're scheduling the full audition. I need you under camera. Different lights. Let's test a monologue. Come back tomorrow."
He turned to his assistant. "Get me new sides. Rewrite the villain script. She's too good. Give her a better arc."
"But sir, we haven't even—"
"I don't care! She makes statues look expressive!"
Back in the car, Lin Xie was quiet again. Calm.
Shen Rui watched her from the corner of his eye.
"Did you like it?"
She nodded once. "I liked being allowed to talk."
He blinked. "You… like pretending to be evil?"
"I'm not pretending."
He smiled faintly.
And somewhere, miles behind them, Director Qi was already screaming into a landline.
"THIS ISN'T A GIRL. THIS IS A HIGH-QUALITY WEAPON IN HEELS! I WANT HER NAME IN LIGHTS BY NEXT MONTH!"
The entertainment industry had no idea what it had just let in.
----
The car slid smoothly through the city streets, the evening sun casting long shadows over the glass and steel towers of the metropolis. Lin Xie sat rigid in the back seat, her gaze fixed on the window, watching the world blur past without really seeing it. The audition—unexpected, intense, and utterly unfamiliar—still reverberated in her mind.
Shen Rui drove with his usual quiet confidence, glancing occasionally at her from the corner of his eye. He could see the faint flicker of something new in her expression—was it satisfaction? Relief? Maybe even… anticipation? Whatever it was, it softened his usual stoic mask.
"You surprised me," he said finally, breaking the silence as they merged onto the highway.
Lin Xie didn't answer immediately. Instead, she let her hand rest lightly on her thigh, recalling the sharpness of Qi Xinyuan's gaze, the weight of his disbelief melting into grudging respect.
"I wasn't surprised. I expected that level," she said quietly. "I wasn't prepared for the grapes, though."
Shen Rui smirked. "Grapes?"
"The whole scene—the actor trembling like a leaf, the absurdity of eating grapes while delivering lines. It felt like a test, but also a joke. Like they wanted to see if I'd break."
"Did you?"
"No."
He laughed softly, the sound low and genuine. "Good."
Lin Xie turned toward him then, her eyes cool but something unspoken dancing beneath the surface. "You didn't tell me you had connections in the entertainment industry."
He shrugged, not bothering to hide the amusement in his expression. "I don't. Not really. But I know people who know people. It's easy to arrange introductions. What's hard is what comes next."
"Like surviving the industry?"
"Exactly."
Lin Xie considered that. The entire time growing up in a world where efficiency, calculation, and control ruled every interaction, she'd never really thought about survival in a social jungle. Her life had been algorithms, protocols, data sets—not emotions, rivalries, or the desperate hunger for fame.
"Do you think I'll survive?" she asked quietly.
Shen Rui glanced at her, the streetlights casting sharp angles across his face. "I don't think you're going to survive. I think you're going to conquer."
Her mouth twitched into the faintest smile, but her eyes remained distant.
"Tomorrow's the full audition," he reminded her. "They want to see more. Different lighting, cameras, monologues. They're rewriting the script for you. Sounds like Qi Xinyuan's already betting the farm."
Lin Xie nodded. "I'll be ready."
---
The next morning, the rehearsal studio smelled of fresh paint and burnt coffee. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, illuminating a sea of cables, cameras, and crew members bustling about. Lin Xie entered with measured steps, her composure intact, like a machine powering on with precision.
Qi Xinyuan was already there, pacing with a cigarette in hand, muttering something about "too much talent to be legal." The assistant handed Lin Xie a new script, thicker and more complex than before.
"This one's for the big leagues," Qi said without looking at her. "You're not just a villain now—you're a queen, a shadow that moves the world from behind the throne. You've got ambition, rage, cunning, and a secret that could destroy everything. Got it?"
Lin Xie scanned the pages, taking in the sharp dialogue, the psychological twists, the demanding physicality implied by the blocking notes.
"Got it," she said simply.
The cameras started rolling. Lights adjusted. The young male actor from before was back, but this time with a full costume and less trembling. He stepped into the scene, eyes wide, voice shaking as he approached.
Lin Xie took her mark. The atmosphere thickened with tension as the cameras circled.
Her voice was cold steel, slicing through the air:
"You think begging will change anything? You were never the king. You were just a pawn playing dress-up."
She moved with calculated grace, each gesture a precise cut in the fabric of the scene. Her gaze was icy, unyielding—everything Qi had demanded and more.
The young actor faltered, but Lin Xie stayed in character, letting the silence stretch, letting the cameras capture the storm behind her eyes.
When the scene ended, Qi Xinyuan clapped his hands loudly, startling everyone.
"Magnificent! Did you see that? That's not an actress—that's a force of nature!"
He turned to the crew, "Get the lighting crew on retakes, but keep her as is. Nothing too soft. We want fear and admiration in equal measure."
Qi stormed over to Lin Xie, this time with a broad grin. "You're a natural."
Lin Xie raised an eyebrow. "I don't feel natural."
"Don't worry about that. Natural is for the rest of them."
---
Later, as Lin Xie packed up, the chaos of the studio buzzing around her, Shen Rui's voice came over the comms.
"Ready for lunch?"
She nodded, folding the script carefully. "Lead the way."
Outside, the city blazed with noise and life. Traffic honked, people rushed, neon signs flickered.
Shen Rui slid the car door open for her with a smirk. "Welcome to your new world."
She stepped in, cold but electric, already calculating the next moves in a game she was only beginning to understand.
And somewhere, deep inside, a tiny spark flickered—maybe not of excitement, but of purpose.