Chapter 57: Once More

Chu Luoxi’s performance was remarkably layered. Even though she was alone, without a single line, she made the audience feel as if a series of events were unfolding before their eyes—vivid and tangible. For instance, after feigning innocence, it was as if she suddenly understood what had happened. Consort Rou, swept along by the crowd’s shock, glanced inexplicably at the tea in her hand, a flash of fear—like aftershock—passing through her eyes. She placed the cup on the table as if it were poisonous, her expression one of lingering dread.

Even though it was a solo act, everyone understood: the tea was suspicious, and it had triggered the incident.

As the crowd was struck by sudden realization, Consort Rou’s response—which had been perfectly normal up to that point—shifted abruptly. Still without lines, she seemed to be verbally attacked, stumbling back a step. Her face betrayed disbelief, anger, astonishment, grievance, and coldness—all laid bare. She deeply captivated the onlookers, and even the cameraman instinctively zoomed in, capturing a close-up of those dazzling, expressive eyes.

Watching intently before the monitor, Qiu Xian suddenly realized that Chu Luoxi’s portrayal of Consort Rou was truly penetrating—she embodied the fragile exterior and steely inner strength of a wise, patient imperial consort perfectly. Qiu Xian, as the director, felt his heart stirred by the actor’s passion and inspiration. Narrowing his eyes, he noticed on the monitor the fleeting hatred in Consort Rou’s gaze, her outward panic masking a chilling composure and confidence. Her red lips parted, but she had not yet spoken.

At that moment, Qiu Xian couldn’t help but play along, abruptly raising his head and singing out, “His Majesty arrives!” The interruption was flawlessly timed, like a stroke of genius.

This sudden exclamation startled the absorbed audience and snapped Huang Zixue, who had been lost in thought, back to attention. It was his cue to enter.

Chu Luoxi’s body seemed to pause for a moment at those words, her presence softening instantly. The fierce, sword-like readiness to speak was swallowed, replaced by a gentle frown as she looked toward Huang Zixue, her eyes suddenly bright.

Internally, Chu Luoxi wanted to complain bitterly—what pause? She had actually trembled, purely startled. The director’s lung capacity was truly extraordinary; he was always shouting around the set, clearly trained by constant practice. If this was the routine, could he at least give her a warning? She had no time to prepare herself. Who usually announces the emperor’s arrival with such a booming, rough, and powerful voice? Her poor heart—how could it not be shocked?

Thinking this, her gaze became even more plaintive, appearing deeply aggrieved. Huang Zixue, now entering the scene, felt his blood stir and was immediately drawn into the drama.

With twenty years of experience in her previous life, her acting had long since evolved; immersive performance was a distant memory. She could act within a play, completely separating thought and expression, so now she was inwardly “cursing” the director who had startled everyone.

Huang Zixue, caught by that loving, plaintive look, felt a jolt in his spirit. Deeply in character, he sensed a pain in his chest, tinged with worry and anger. He wondered if his beloved had suffered some immense grievance to show such an expression.

He gazed intently at Consort Rou, his eyes full of tenderness and pity. As emperor, there were matters he had to restrain; he forced himself to shift his gaze, holding his worry close. Clad in a bright yellow dragon robe, Huang Zixue strode forward with imperial bearing, stepping into the camera’s view.

“Your humble consort greets Your Majesty.” Consort Rou curtsied gracefully, delivering her first line in a voice neither loud nor soft—blending in, not standing out, yet never drowned out.

With the emperor present, that single prop chair naturally belonged to him alone. Chu Luoxi, as Consort Rou, sensibly stepped aside.

Huang Zixue straightened his back, surveying the room with regal authority before sternly asking, “What is all this commotion? What has happened?” As he spoke, he glanced at Consort Rou—the consort he truly loved.

Perhaps their hearts were attuned, for Consort Rou’s gaze awaited his. When their eyes met, her expression dimmed, mist gathering, her innocence and grievance deepening.

Feeling his heart tighten, Huang Zixue was momentarily stunned, gazing at Chu Luoxi, his emotions surging. This—this was a consort attuned to the emperor’s heart, a flower that understood him, the kind of woman a ruler would truly love.

“Cut!” Qiu Xian’s voice rang out, tinged with playful teasing. “I say, Huang Zixue, so you can be dazed by a beauty, eh? We’re supposed to be acting!”

In a normal plot, the emperor wouldn’t be entranced by Consort Rou, but since this was only an audition, Chu Luoxi’s performance was nearly complete. Though not perfectly finished, it hardly mattered.

Faced with this unexpected dark horse, Qiu Xian was delighted, his mood soaring. He couldn’t resist teasing Huang Zixue.

Qi Yue chuckled, a hint of schadenfreude in his eyes as he watched Huang Zixue get caught. Like Qiu Xian, his spirits lifted, and his gaze toward Chu Luoxi was filled with warmth and admiration.

As for the initial disdain and indifference, nobody remembered it now.

After being startled awake, Huang Zixue awkwardly rubbed his nose, casting an apologetic glance at Chu Luoxi. Though he sensed the director had made his decision, he had still disrupted her audition. Normally, there would have been a bit more before the end.

Blinking, the unshed tears vanished from Chu Luoxi’s eyes. She smiled, unbothered.

The rest hardly mattered. If the director was interested, her earlier performance revealed enough. Plans are made by man, but their success depends on fate; in the end, it was out of her hands.

“Oh, that was my fault. Director, shall we try again?” Mistakes during filming are normal; Huang Zixue didn’t feel he was out of line, just embarrassed that he’d been so captivated by Chu Luoxi’s expression he forgot to act.

Tsk tsk, are all the students from the film academy this impressive nowadays?

“There’s no need. This was just an audition.” Qiu Xian laughed, reviewed the playback, then looked at Chu Luoxi with praise. “Alright, Consort Rou is yours. Chu Luoxi, right? You can go home and prepare. Join the crew as soon as possible—our schedule is tight. At the latest, you must join the group the day after tomorrow.”