16. Do Not Engage in Unethical Practices

"Heh."
It wasn’t until nearly a minute after Chen Ruomin had left that Gao Tang finally rubbed the spot on his side where she’d bumped him and let out a low laugh.

The C-list actress at his side had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything that might diminish Gao Tang’s impression of her, though it was clear she was growing anxious.

"Young Master Gao, about what you said earlier... the role?"

Gao Tang glanced leisurely at the woman beside him, his enticing eyes still full of amusement.
"Ah, what was said just now is in the past. I can’t make any promises anymore."

"Young Master Gao..."
The actress cursed inwardly. The moment that woman showed up, all promises were null and void. Had he already shifted his sights so quickly? She forced down her anger, maintaining a strained smile.

"Are you planning to give the role to that woman?"

"Give her the role?"
Gao Tang looked as if he’d just heard a marvelous joke and shook his head.
"Do you even know who she is?"

Could she be some big shot?
The actress was puzzled. That couldn’t be. If she were a famous star, how could she have no impression whatsoever? Besides, anyone present at today’s competition was unlikely to be a star of any renown.

Noticing the confusion on the woman’s face, a hint of cruel amusement flickered in the man’s eyes.
"She is the daughter of Shuangxing Elegance’s director, Chen Ruomin—the main organizer of today’s talent show, the primary investor and producer behind ‘Sovereign of the Heavens’. The one holding the purse strings."

The actress’s legs gave out and, with a thud, she collapsed onto the floor.

...

On stage, the performances continued. In the private viewing room, Chen Ruomin scrolled through the list of those who had passed the previous round, pulled up a photo, and slid it in front of Zhang Jiang.

"This woman—eliminate her in the next round."

Zhang Jiang took the tablet, surprise flickering over his features as he studied the photo. The actress was a minor player from an obscure agency. Her basic qualifications were decent and she had some acting experience, but her company lacked resources; she’d only ever appeared in small-scale dramas.

He remembered Chen Ruomin nodding in approval during her performance earlier. Why, after just a short break, had she decided to cut her?

Chen Ruomin retrieved her tablet, her expression unexpectedly grave.
"Go warn the people backstage. Once they advance, they’re to focus on training and not get up to any tricks. If the production finds anyone cozying up to investors or resorting to backroom deals, they’re out. No exceptions!"

Zhang Jiang wiped the sweat from his brow. Such things happened to varying degrees in every production. Those working behind the scenes usually turned a blind eye—after all, anyone able to find themselves a patron usually had some skills, and the web of relationships was too complex to antagonize everyone.

But this time...

This young lady seemed to have a particular dislike for such behavior. Not only did she dislike it, she’d even caught someone red-handed.

Zhang Jiang quietly glanced at Chen Liwan, the real decision-maker at Shuangxing, hoping for some guidance. But as far as Chen Liwan was concerned, offending a couple of people was hardly a concern compared to keeping his daughter happy.

"Ruomin’s right. If it’s a talent show, let it be a talent show—we don’t need that kind of corruption. If any investor is displeased, let them withdraw. We’re hardly lacking for funds."

With Chen Liwan’s support, everything moved forward smoothly. Although a few investors grumbled at Shuangxing’s firm stance, they could only withdraw their own candidates.

Don’t get the wrong idea—it wasn’t because they were so accommodating, but because Shuangxing’s projects were simply too profitable. Every time outside investment was invited, it wasn’t out of necessity but to toss others a bone, build goodwill. Compared to future gains, a brief dalliance was worth nothing.

What comforted Chen Ruomin, at least, was that although most contestants’ performances were abysmal, a few shone brightly amid the chaff. On the third day’s auditions for "Chronicles of the Qing Imperial Harem," one actress, in particular, caught her attention.

The part being auditioned was the third female lead—Consort Dong’e, Shunzhi Emperor’s greatest love. In the novel, her portrayal diverged greatly from history; she was the main antagonist, exploiting her sisterly bond with the heroine, Empress Xiaohuizhang, to steal her beloved, then framing the Empress for the death of her own son, and using Shunzhi’s love and guilt to push for the Empress’s downfall.

But just as the decree to depose the Empress and install a new one was about to be announced, the ailing Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang suddenly intervened, producing evidence that it was Consort Dong’e herself who had killed the imperial prince, shattering years of careful scheming.

The audition scene was the moment when Consort Dong’e’s true nature is exposed, her confession to the Emperor, and her subsequent banishment to the Cold Palace.

Several actresses performed dutifully. While not all managed tears, the rest conveyed sorrow adequately, and a few with genuine talent captured the touch of desperate passion as Dong’e realized her hopes were lost.

But this particular actress was different. Her earlier performance was measured and composed, but after her confession, once the palace doors closed, she suddenly raised her arms as though cradling a baby, tilted her head, and softly hummed a lullaby, an eerie smile flickering perfectly across her face.

The moment sent a chill down Chen Ruomin’s spine. After the performance, she finally picked up her long-neglected tablet and pulled up the actress’s profile by number.

Xu Xiangwei. Thirty. Graduate of Nancheng Academy of Drama. Ten years in the industry.

Experience: Eighth female lead in the urban drama "Three Women," fifth dog spirit in the online series "A Fairy Cat at Home," sixth female lead in a small comedy... In short, a perennial bit player who’d never appeared in a major production.

Chen Ruomin’s gaze paused at the agency listed.

Shuangxing Elegance.

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. One of her own company’s actresses? Why had she never heard of her?

With her performance, Xu Xiangwei easily earned a spot in the next round. Chen Ruomin glanced up at Zhang Jiang, who was waiting quietly for instructions.

"This Xu Xiangwei—have her come see me."

As a director, Zhang Jiang understood immediately, but after a moment’s thought, he dutifully reminded her,
"Miss Chen, this actress is already thirty."

Thirty, formally trained, a decade of experience, proper looks, and yet after years at a leading agency, she’d never made a name for herself or landed a major role. Either she’d offended someone powerful early on, or her personality was deeply flawed. Even if it was just bad luck, at this age, she was considered past her prime for cultivating new talent.

For actresses, the golden years are few. Even if she lands the part, by the time the show airs and she gains fame, she’ll be thirty-two or thirty-three. What value will she have then?

"I know."
Chen Ruomin leaned back on the sofa, fixing Zhang Jiang with a calm, decisive gaze that brooked no argument.

"Have her come see me. Don’t make me repeat myself a third time."