Chapter 127: Talent and Dedication
The next morning, the weather was clear and pleasant.
By the shimmering artificial lake, willow branches sprouted fresh buds, their tips swaying gently on the water’s surface.
Inside the iron fence by the lake, an elderly man in a leather jacket and a refined, graceful young man dressed in casual attire sat across from each other, with two freshly brewed cups of tea placed in front of them.
The fragrance of tea lingered in the air.
The young man looked helpless. “Director Lu, even if April Fool’s Day is coming up, you can’t just deceive an innocent and diligent junior who has been working so earnestly for you, can you?”
Lu Yong asked, “Innocent and diligent? Who?”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
Beside him, Dou Fei struggled to hold back his laughter, nearly suffocating, and had to cough to cover it up.
Then he said, “Xizhao, the teacher really isn’t lying to you.”
Xie Xizhao’s expression showed hesitation.
Lu Yong asked him, “Do you know Yu Lin?”
Xie Xizhao’s gaze froze for a moment.
After a brief pause, he hesitantly said, “His relationship with the one who just won the Tianzhao Award for Best Actor is…?”
The film and television awards he had encountered varied in different worlds, but their essence remained largely the same. They generally consisted of numerous common awards and a few prestigious, top-tier accolades.
In this world he lived in, the film and television industry had three major awards of high prestige.
For television, these were the Tianzhao, Stellar, and Qingyang Awards.
These three awards were considered equally prestigious, and winning one was extremely difficult. Securing the Best Actor award in any of them essentially meant earning the title of TV Emperor.
“Oh.” Lu Yong said calmly, “You could also just assume it’s a coincidence of names.”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
How sharp-tongued.
At this point, beating around the bush was meaningless.
He let out a slow breath and said in a solemn tone,
“Alright, just tell me—how much investment do I need to bring?”
He should probably check his bank balance when he got back.
Lu Yong burst into hearty laughter.
Then he said, “You brat, always quick with the comebacks. Relax, you don’t need to bring any investment to join the production, and there aren’t any shady industry rules either.”
Just as he finished speaking, the doorbell rang.
Dou Fei got up to answer it.
When the iron gate opened, an elderly man in a wheelchair was pushed in by his assistant.
His face was chiseled like it had been carved with a knife, his features deep-set, his gaze sharp. It was clear that in his younger years, he could have easily been considered a ruggedly handsome leading man. But now, time and illness had taken their toll on his appearance.
Although his eyes still held a piercing intensity, weariness had settled into his face.
As he entered, a cool breeze drifted in, making him cough twice.
And the moment he crossed the threshold, Xie Xizhao had already stood up.
“Director Hong,” he greeted.
—
Hong Wu had arrived in a hurry.
Though his health had forced him into retirement, he hadn’t distanced himself from the industry in the slightest.
His students, his former collaborators, his network within the field—
Every single one was something he still worried about.
He carried a certain old-school industry air, with a bit of that “veteran meddler” attitude. That very afternoon, he was scheduled to head to a film set to deal with a troublesome issue.
So, the moment he sat down, he wasted no time with pleasantries and got straight to the point about the project.
A suspense drama.
Two male leads.
The cases would unfold in an episodic format, with an overarching main storyline.
One of the male leads was the captain of the criminal investigation team, while the other was the mastermind behind all the cases. Yu Lin had already been cast as the mastermind.
The drama was scheduled to begin filming at the end of the year, and the script was still being refined.
However, the screenwriter was someone Hong Wu knew—a semi-expert in criminal investigations—so the script’s quality was guaranteed. Yu Lin had agreed to share equal billing, but the production team was being extremely careful with the casting of the other male lead and wanted to finalize the decision as soon as possible.
Since Yu Lin was half a student of Hong Wu, his team had approached Hong Wu for a recommendation.
And the person Hong Wu had recommended—was Xie Xizhao.
“Any other questions?” Hong Wu asked.
He spoke just as he wrote on social media—always concise and forceful, his tone perpetually bordering on cold. But only Lu Yong knew that this coldness was actually a sign of nervousness.
At their level, this was how things worked.
If you couldn’t afford to lose face, you put up a front. Even if you didn’t actually feel that way, your demeanor could still seem like the dead of winter.
Lu Yong shook his head internally, choosing not to call him out on it.
In fact, he was quite curious—what would Xie Xizhao’s first question be?
Moments later, he got his answer.
Xie Xizhao didn’t seem bothered by the blunt, straight-to-the-point way they were speaking. After thinking for a bit, he finally asked,
“Is Teacher Yu… aiming for an award?”
Everyone was momentarily stunned.
A few seconds later, Hong Wu was the first to react. “Yes.”
“He doesn’t have great luck with awards,” he said succinctly. “Di Shuo is a highly distinctive role. If played well, it’s bound to shine. And the drama itself is a serious one—a genre that award judges tend to favor.”
His tone was as cold as ever, making it impossible to tell whether he approved or not.
But Xie Xizhao let out a breath of relief.
It felt exactly as he had expected.
—
Everyone in the entertainment industry knew about “award luck.”
Simply put, whether a drama or film an actor starred in would flop or explode in popularity was already a mystery, and even if it became a hit, whether they could actually win an award was another unpredictable matter. Yu Lin was one of those actors with notoriously bad award luck.
He had just won Best Actor at the Tianzhao Awards, but in reality, he had already starred in numerous blockbuster dramas.
Xie Xizhao had skyrocketed to popularity with just one role—Jing Yin. But for Yu Lin, roles of that caliber? He had already accumulated five or six.
And yet, for various reasons, this year was the first time he had finally won a major industry award.
It was fair to say that his achievements and his actual body of work didn’t quite match up.
At thirty-five, Yu Lin was still in his prime. But having always pursued serious drama roles, he was clearly different from actors who thrived on commercial popularity. Xie Xizhao guessed that, given his current situation, he must be feeling quite anxious.
And when you’re anxious, you work harder.
Choosing the right script matters. Choosing the right role matters even more.
Compared to the righteous criminal investigation captain, the villainous big boss role was far more likely to showcase an actor’s skills. If the character was stylish enough, they’d even generate more buzz. Take Jing Yin, for example—that was proof enough.
In comparison, his own role was at a disadvantage.
No wonder the production was willing to offer equal billing.
Now that he had confirmed this, the feeling that this opportunity had fallen from the sky for no reason finally faded a little.
But before he could fully process it, Hong Wu suddenly spoke, as if he had read his mind:
“Your role isn’t easy to play either. Dou Fei’s image doesn’t quite fit, and I had him audition for a few scenes, but it still felt off. This character is very layered—not just righteous, but also needs a bit of reckless, streetwise swagger.”
Xie Xizhao was momentarily stunned.
Meanwhile, Dou Fei silently gazed at the sky, his face already full of frustration.
Coming from an acting family, he had grown up in a pure and structured environment. He wasn’t the type to wallow in self-pity, but being called out so bluntly by a senior like this… well, it was definitely embarrassing.
After a brief pause, Xie Xizhao finally spoke.
“I understand.”
He hesitated for a moment, then politely asked, “When would my audition be scheduled?”
Worried that Hong Wu might misunderstand, he added, “I’m currently in my post-hiatus phase, and my TV network schedules are all set in stone. It’s hard to move things around, so I’d need to arrange my time in advance.”
Hong Wu paused for two seconds.
Then he said, “You don’t need to audition. You’re a perfect fit.”
His tone was firm and unyielding.
Xie Xizhao: “…”
After a moment of hesitation, he finally asked, “Do I… really look that much like a troublemaker?”
Dou Fei, caught completely off guard, choked on his water.
Hong Wu stared at him, momentarily unresponsive, his expression still stiff and rigid.
And then Lu Yong burst into laughter, slapping Hong Wu hard on the shoulder.
“Old Hong, what did I tell you?”
He grinned. “When you mess up, you gotta own up to it. I told you to apologize, but instead, you just awkwardly followed the kid’s account and ran off. And now you can’t even string three words together? See? Now the poor kid thinks you’re insulting him!”
Hong Wu’s face flushed red.
He opened his mouth to say something, but when he met Xie Xizhao’s clear, innocent gaze, the words just… wouldn’t come out.
A moment later, he finally managed, “No.”
He hesitated briefly before adding, “I’ve seen your acting. You’re a perfect fit for the role.”
Back when Lu Yong made that phone call, Xie Xizhao had already vaguely guessed that this sudden casting offer wouldn’t be so simple.
During the later stages of filming “Seeking Immortality,” he and Lu Yong had become true friends despite their age gap.
Unlike Dou Fei—who was still in the learning phase—Xie Xizhao had already reached a level where he could converse and engage with Lu Yong as an equal. Because of this, Lu Yong’s favoritism toward him was even more obvious than with Dou Fei.
But even so, Lu Yong had constantly reminded him of just one thing:
“Young man, you have to learn patience.”
Patience didn’t mean a lack of confidence.
On the contrary, it was because he believed in Xie Xizhao so much that he didn’t want him to be worn down by failures and setbacks too early in his career. This industry was cruel—to reach the top of the pyramid, talent and skill alone weren’t enough. Luck and opportunity mattered just as much.
For Xie Xizhao, “Super Rookie” had been that first golden opportunity.
And in the film industry, Lu Yong had meant for him to wait for another opportunity on this path as well.
Lu Yong supported him and was willing to send scripts his way. But an equal billing role alongside a Best Actor winner was far beyond what Lu Yong could arrange for him alone.
And then, just a few days ago, Dou Fei had suddenly begun hinting at things, casually asking Xie Xizhao about his opinions on Hong Wu.
That was when Xie Xizhao had already started to sense something coming.
He knew that the opportunity he had been waiting for… might finally be knocking on his door.
Still, speculation was one thing—he hadn’t expected Hong Wu to personally ask Lu Yong to act as the middleman.
Nor had he expected that before they even met, Hong Wu would already promise him equal billing.
Nor that, despite his poor health, Hong Wu would personally come to meet him.
All these things combined made Xie Xizhao feel both surprised and deeply moved.
And now, Hong Wu’s final words confirmed his suspicions.
Xie Xizhao let out a slow breath.
“Thank you,” he said.
Even as the past was brought up, Xie Xizhao wasn’t naïve enough to think that Hong Wu was offering him compensation.
Hong Wu’s commitment to his principles wasn’t an act. That was simply the kind of person he was. Acting was sacred to him. Even if he had truly felt guilty toward Xie Xizhao, he wouldn’t have made amends in this way.
There was only one possibility.
Both the follow and this casting offer were because Hong Wu had watched his performance—and had decided that he was capable.
The moment Xie Xizhao uttered his “thank you,” Hong Wu’s expression finally softened.
He said, “That day, I was wrong.”
His words were direct and to the point.
Xie Xizhao neither agreed nor disagreed. Instead, after a moment of thought, he simply said, “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, Director Hong.”
Hong Wu looked at him and let out a short laugh. “Then you don’t know me very well.”
“Back then, I really did think Old Lu had lost his mind—ruining his own reputation. I picked apart your performance more than once, and when he called to explain, I didn’t even listen.”
He paused. “If it weren’t for later…”
Later, what happened?
He had seen a familiar drama title and a familiar name trending on social media. And he had recalled what Lu Yong had told him.
They had been close friends for years, often arguing but always standing firm on their principles. This time, Lu Yong had broken one of his own rules.
Hong Wu had wanted to know why.
The result was, unsurprisingly, exactly as he had expected.
The trending clip had been short. But afterward, he had gone and searched for the full series of “Seeking Immortality.”
Seventy to eighty episodes.
He had watched them all—without skipping.
As a director, he saw things differently from the average viewer.
He saw the effort and dedication his old friend had poured into this project.
And he saw something else, too.
That young actor—whom he had once nitpicked at relentlessly, even going so far as to complain that he looked too good—had displayed a remarkable presence on screen.
That presence had a kind of magic, capable of wiping away all preconceived biases.
And Hong Wu knew exactly what it was.
Talent.
And dedication.
—
By the end of the meeting, Xie Xizhao and Hong Wu had talked about many things.
It was clear that Yu Lin’s team had given Hong Wu significant authority in decision-making.
And it wasn’t just because of their mentor-student relationship—but also because Hong Wu would be serving as a special consultant for the drama, lending it his credibility.
That meant he had absolute control over casting.
And he used that power to show unwavering trust in Xie Xizhao.
He said, “I can tell you’re a good kid, with the right mindset. The reason you can play a convincing villain isn’t because you think like one—it’s because you have the skill and technique to bring it to life. Those same skills will be more than enough for Huo Xiangyang.”
Huo Xiangyang—the character that had been offered to Xie Xizhao.
It wasn’t just an acknowledgment of his acting ability—but also a testament to his character and integrity.
Xie Xizhao felt almost embarrassed by the praise.
And then—Hong Wu immediately switched gears.
Without hesitation, he began critiquing him from another angle.
“I don’t know who trained you, but it’s obvious you took an unconventional path. You’ve had no systematic theoretical guidance. And another thing—some of your performances rely too much on technique. On the surface, your emotions seem full, but in reality, you haven’t fully connected with them. I can tell you resist certain roles because you disagree with their actions, but acting isn’t about keeping that distance—”
He ranted on and on, his words growing increasingly sharp and relentless.
In the end, it was Lu Yong who kicked him out.
He felt both amused and exasperated. “Alright, whatever you want to say, just chat on WeChat later. I’ll send you Xizhao’s contact. Stop lingering in my house and nagging.”
Only then did Hong Wu finally relent.
After he left, Lu Yong turned to Xie Xizhao and said, “Just take half of what he said seriously. That guy is obsessed with acting—he practically expects actors to lose half their lives for a role. You’re still young; don’t let him push you too hard.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “But some of what he said is worth listening to, especially the performance techniques.”
Xie Xizhao knew Lu Yong was worried that Hong Wu’s influence might be too strong on him. Although he wasn’t someone who was easily swayed, he still appreciated Lu Yong’s concern. He thanked him and left Lu’s residence.
—
When he got back, Xie Xizhao informed Fang Qingqing about the role offer. Naturally, she was both thrilled and surprised. However, she still asked, “Since this project is being positioned for awards, do you think…”
She was worried that his character might end up being a mere plot device.
Xie Xizhao replied, “There will definitely be some of that, but the gap won’t be too drastic. After all, it’s a co-lead role.”
There was one more thing he didn’t say.
No matter what, a lead character’s arc had to be complete.
Any gaps in character depth could be made up for with strong acting.
Hearing this, Fang Qingqing felt a little more at ease. She noted down the contact details for the production team, then asked thoughtfully, “Since filming starts at the end of the year, and TP just wrapped up their comeback, what’s your plan for this in-between period?”
She suggested, “How about joining a variety show?”
Xie Xizhao chuckled. “After half a year of doing variety, am I supposed to transition into a full-time variety star?”
Fang Qingqing let out an awkward “Eh.”
“I just think you’ve been working too hard.” She admitted sincerely.
Xie Xizhao had been in the industry for three years and had barely taken a day off.
Variety shows were easy money and required little effort. Fang Qingqing actually wanted him to maintain his exposure while getting some rest.
With his current popularity, he could appear on the hottest variety shows across all major TV networks. Choosing a slow-paced, widely loved show wouldn’t be a problem at all.
Xie Xizhao simply said, “I’m fine.”
He still wasn’t too fond of variety shows. After thinking for a moment, he added, “I’ll pick a short drama. Director Hong’s project might start filming earlier than expected, so I should leave some buffer time. If it still begins at the end of the year, then I’ll take a vacation.”
—
Xie Xizhao had only made a casual remark, but he hadn’t expected Fang Qingqing to show up the next day carrying a huge stack of scripts.
Watching her place them on the conference room table, he was so stunned that he forgot to sip his coffee.
“…All of these?”
“These are the ones submitted for you recently.” Fang Qingqing replied. “Probably since ‘Seeking Immortality’ aired. I sorted them by lead roles and episode length last night, but I brought them all so you can take a look.”
With Xie Xizhao’s current popularity and portfolio, taking anything below a lead male role would be a step down.
But he had always been very selective, and even she couldn’t predict his decision.
“I’ll take a look,” Xie Xizhao said.
And with that, he dove in.
He remained completely still for the entire afternoon, immersed in the scripts.
When Fang Qingqing returned to check on him, his coffee cup was already empty, sitting lonely on the table. Beside it, Xie Xizhao sat deep in thought.
Noticing her arrival, he snapped back to reality. Then, he picked up a script, handed it to her, and said—
“This one.”
Fang Qingqing took it with a bit of nervous anticipation, and her first instinct was to check the lead status.
Male lead.
She let out a sigh of relief.
‘Thank goodness,’ she thought.
She had already prepared herself to talk Xie Xizhao out of a questionable choice.
Then, she continued reading.
She reached the first sentence of the plot summary:
“Eighteen-year-old Tao Yan has a secret—he is raising a talking cat.”
Huh?