Chapter 41: Performance

She had to appear naive and innocent, while also expressing all the complex negative emotions born from such an environment.

But children these days, especially these little child stars, have been pampered and protected from a young age—how could they possibly embody such emotions? If they used an older child, the contrast envisioned in the script would lose its powerful impact.

And if they chose a child who had already experienced too much, then that natural innocence would be gone. Most crucially, the third female character must be visually stunning and likable. It’s precisely because she’s beautiful and lost her parents that the subsequent chain of events is triggered.

In this drama, the biggest highlight is the stark contrast between the two male leads’ families—the clash between high-intelligence crime and upright justice. The faint warmth and transformation that eventually arises from the cold and harsh atmosphere is a key appeal of the series. Yu Mozhi fits the early characteristics of the second male lead very well: indifferent, aloof, emotionally detached from others, always handling things with ease.

But within the industry, there were plenty of rumors—things like Yu Mozhi being emotionally lacking when it came to warmth and interpersonal interactions. For a long time, his acting path had become rather fixed. That was why the director had never considered him before.

It just so happened that day, Yu Mozhi had checked his email—a mailbox he hadn’t opened in forever—and saw the casting call for the third male lead. So he was given a chance.

At this moment, Yu Mozhi was performing a scene where, as the mastermind behind the scenes, he watches a violent incident unfold in a dark alley and turns to leave, only to briefly lock eyes with the male lead who has just arrived with the police.

It was a simple scene on the surface, but as the second male lead’s first appearance, it carried a lot of emotional weight and nuance.

Yu Mozhi stood in the center of the room. His gaze suddenly changed—from calm and emotionless to cold and careless in an instant. A faint, ambiguous smile played at the corners of his lips, filled with the cruelty of someone who treats life like a game. It was as if the tragedy unfolding before him was nothing more than an everyday event.

That look sent chills through everyone present. Director Kong’s eyes even flashed with excitement.

When Yu Mozhi turned, he seemed to sense something. He slightly tilted his head toward the front right, as if locking eyes with someone. His scarlet lips curled subtly, yet his eyes held no emotion. Every movement danced dangerously close to the edge of the audience’s nerves.

The short performance ended, and Director Kong slapped the table.
“Good!”

Yu Mozhi withdrew his villainous aura and returned to a calm, ethereal demeanor—as if a celestial being had descended. Standing in the center, he calmly answered several of Director Kong’s questions.

Satisfied with the responses, Director Kong tapped the table lightly twice with his fingers, then suddenly said,
“Show me the other scene—the one I sent you earlier. The one where you reflect the emotional change after rescuing the child.”

It wasn’t enough to just match the early characterization. The warmth that this villain gradually reveals later in the story is also a very important part of the show.

The little girl sat to the side, watching. Her big, shiny eyes lit up and she clapped enthusiastically after her father finished performing. But when she heard this request, she clearly noticed that Uncle Liu, who was sitting next to her, suddenly tensed up.

Yu Mozhi paused for a moment on the other side. When he looked up, Director Kong’s brows slowly furrowed.

The little girl cupped her hand over her mouth, trying to whisper to Liu Wu,
“Uncle, what’s wrong?”

But even though she lowered her voice a little and covered her mouth, the effect was not what she hoped for—everyone in the room instinctively turned to look in their direction.

(End of Chapter)