Chapter Twenty-Five: Audition

Groups of auditionees underwent rigorous evaluation, but the results were far from satisfactory. Most emerged with downcast expressions, some girls still had tears clinging to the corners of their eyes. Director Wang Zhang’s nearly harsh guidance left everyone with heavy hearts, and the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

"It’s your turn, Qing," Yan Lin reminded softly at her side.

Rong Qing removed her oversized black-rimmed glasses, making her appear rather youthful. She rubbed the corner of her eye and put away the script in her hand. Completely calm, she entered the audition room without a trace of anxiety.

Inside, the space was vast, offering ample room for actors to perform. Three judges sat at the review table. In the center was the renowned director Wang Zhang, his hair cropped short and brows slightly furrowed. The moment the girl entered, his deep eyes caught her, the black irises sparkling with faint starlight. He pursed his lips and, picking a scene at random from a stack of scripts, tossed it to Rong Qing. "You’ll audition this segment. Ten minutes to prepare."

The lines were brief, mostly relying on physical expression. It was a midsummer night: Ling Fei sat on a bench outside the study hall, foolishly waiting for the promised rendezvous that never missed. Mosquito bites covered her legs in red welts, but her heart brimmed with sweetness and nervousness, glancing repeatedly at the doorway in hope of seeing a familiar silhouette. Yet Chen Hao, preoccupied with Li Mengjie, never appeared...

Rong Qing took off her coat, tied her hair into a ponytail, and wore a thin shirt with faded jeans, embodying the youthful vigor of a student. She half-sat on the bench, her knees shielding a book. With her eyes cast down, toes swinging, and palms clenched with tension, she occasionally glanced up, betraying anticipation and nervousness.

The unspeakable, conflicted longing was vividly portrayed through her narrowed gaze. Gradually, she relaxed her taut posture and, in a disappointed yet smooth Beijing accent, murmured, "Why… hasn't he come yet…" A subtle disappointment clouded her eyes.

Time passed, and she kept scratching her swollen ankle, the book in her hands never turning a page. The silent night deepened, and the loneliness around her intensified. Finally, the flame of hope in her eyes extinguished, and the suppressed feelings weighed painfully upon her heart.

Ling Fei, dragging numb legs, slowly walked away. That thin, lonely figure lingered in memory, unforgettable.

A round of applause burst from the other two judges, who rose in excitement, lavish in their praise. "Wang Zhang, this girl is a true talent. Her emotional impact overpowers all the other candidates. Her consummate acting made me believe for a moment that Ling Fei was real. Remarkable—she is Ling Fei!"

"Who would have thought, in a materialistic society like this, to find a girl so dedicated to her craft? Child, your future has no limits," an elderly man with graying hair said, his eyes full of admiration. Even having received the highest praise, Rong Qing remained unruffled; this, he thought, was the mark of a true star. "Zhang, if you don’t speak up, I’ll bring her under my company and take her back to the United States. She’ll outshine anything you can achieve here."

Wang Zhang’s expression changed instantly, his composure lost, eyes flashing with satisfaction, though he stubbornly said, "Rong Qing, you were outstanding. But don’t think you’re guaranteed the role; there are still many candidates." Despite his obvious approval and the belief that he’d never find a better Ling Fei, he insisted on making things difficult.

"I understand. I will keep working hard," Rong Qing replied with a smile, her eyes glinting mischievously.

Director Wang Zhang blushed deeply, glaring fiercely at her. "Out you go—the next candidate is waiting!"

As the door closed behind her, raucous laughter erupted inside. "Wang Zhang, you old fox, blushing like a schoolboy! Hahaha..."

Rong Qing, as she shut the door, wore a fox-like smile—completely different from her earlier modest and respectful demeanor.

Outside, waiting candidates watched Rong Qing’s relaxed face; their tense smiles faltered. Jealousy and envy flickered across their expressions, some even glowering with resentment. Han Xiyun’s eyes reddened, her face full of unwillingness.

Meanwhile, in the conference hall of the Huo Corporation’s headquarters, the five titans of the group sat around a lavish oval table. There was Gu Lingfei, CEO overseeing petroleum and energy; Yan Dong, the boss controlling half of Asia’s underworld and arms smuggling; Xing Hao, general manager of the leading entertainment, media, and telecommunications company; Li Mingze, head of Asia’s largest restaurant chain. At the head of the table, clad in a black trench coat that accentuated his powerful physique—a figure as if sculpted by the gods, stern and alluring—sat Huo Lingtian, the seventh-generation leader of the Huo family.

The Huo family’s industries spanned every field, reaching every corner of the globe. Each sector was managed by four leaders groomed by each generation’s patriarch, who coordinated the corporation’s affairs. As a hidden ancient clan within China, their wealth remained undisclosed, never accurately estimated by Forbes. Publicly, they were known as owners of a major electronics company.

Any one of these five would rank among the world’s richest. It was common knowledge that, since the founding of the nation, the Huo clan’s secret wealth wielded irresistible power.

Every six months, the other four would gather at the Huo building for a final annual summary. Huo Lingtian never interfered in their management; mutual trust and reliance bound them, driving the rapid, dynamic growth of this ancient and secretive family.

On the wide LCD screen, the annual industry report was displayed. Who would have imagined that the heads of five world-leading companies would meet to discuss such matters? The power of this clandestine family was beyond imagination.

－－－－－－End of aside－－－－－－

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