After Transmigrated as a Black-Hearted Entertainment Boss [Transmigration] - Chapter 17

After confirming the intentions of Gu Nan and Su Jiqiu, Tao Zui set to work contacting the production teams behind the three projects.

Previously, Tao Zui had only gathered information about casting calls or industry rumors through casual chats and scanning his social media feed. Because he hadn’t interacted directly with the producers, he completely lacked first-hand data on the projects.

This was hardly a wise approach. After all, the more time that passed, the more uncertainties would crop up. It was entirely possible that just as he was preparing to reach out, the production would finish its prep work and be ready to shoot.

However, as a former advertising guy turned novice agent, charging ahead recklessly without a shred of preparation simply didn’t match his personality.

Fortunately, apart from Criminal Litigation, the other two crews were in no rush, giving him plenty of time.

The very next day, Tao Zui called the number listed on the casting call for Criminal Litigation to inquire about their preparation progress and fight for a spot for Su Jiqiu.

To his surprise, Criminal Litigation was actually holding a mini-audition!

After getting the details for the audition, Tao Zui hung up and mulled it over for a moment before figuring out the reason behind it.

In legal dramas, the courtroom scenes are indispensable; in fact, they are usually the climax of the entire film. Because of the spatial constraints and the need to build a tense atmosphere, these indoor scenes consist almost entirely of close-ups from the front. If an actor’s performance falls short, it can easily shatter the overall ambiance. Moreover, as a low-budget production, Criminal Litigation would definitely be tight on funds.

Rather than wasting precious time coaching actors on set and delaying the schedule, it made more sense to weed out the weak links during auditions. They might even strike gold and discover a hidden gem.

With that sorted out, Tao Zui immediately sent Su Jiqiu’s resume to the crew. He then notified Su Jiqiu of his audition slot and mentioned it to Gu Nan as well.

The film world was highly exclusionary, and open auditions of this nature hadn’t been seen for several years. Since the opportunity had presented itself, it would be a shame not to go witness it.

Before long, the day of the audition arrived. Su Jiqiu took a leave of absence from school. Early that morning, he and Gu Nan climbed into the Cullinan, with Tao Zui personally escorting them to the venue.

“I checked the venue. It’s a small theater, so this audition will likely be completely open-style. You audition on stage while the rest wait in the audience, which makes it perfect for observing and learning. Of course, performing in front of so many people means the pressure will be immense too.”

As Tao Zui spoke, he caught a glimpse of Su Jiqiu in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, the boy’s small face was written all over with nerves, and his hands were constantly adjusting his glasses—he had pushed those black frames almost to his hairline.

Seeing this, Tao Zui quickly offered some comfort. “Think of it as getting a head start on adapting to an actor’s life. Once you choose this path, you’re destined to be the center of attention. When they shoot a close-up right in your face, isn’t that lens far more terrifying than a crowd of onlookers?”

As a former advertising man, Tao Zui was no stranger to filming; in fact, he was intimately familiar with it. To capture the perfect frame and effect, he had seen almost every shooting technique under the sun, and the close-up “face-shove” was the most common of all.

To the average person, a close-up shot sounds like a selfie—about an arm’s length away. But in reality, for a true close-up feature shot, the camera lens might be less than thirty centimeters from the actor’s nose. And what’s shoved in your face isn’t a tiny phone camera, but a lens the size of a human head. For ordinary people, let alone performing, just managing a natural smile would be considered a gift.

Hearing Tao Zui mention close-up shots, Su Jiqiu adjusted his glasses and muttered under his breath, “At least the lens can’t talk…”

Tao Zui laughed. “If you want to be an actor, how can you be afraid of people talking?”

Seeing Su Jiqiu keep his head down in silence, Tao Zui added, “If all else fails, just pretend they’re vegetables in a field. It fits perfectly since there are so many of them and everyone is dressed up so flamboyantly.”

How can you compare flamboyant people to vegetables? Su Jiqiu’s focus instantly veered off track, and the corners of his lips curled into a faint, involuntary smile.

Catching Su Jiqiu’s expression in the rearview mirror, Tao Zui let out a silent sigh of relief.

Su Jiqiu was a sensitive soul who still possessed the innocence of a child. Spouting grand platitudes about trying your hardest and giving your all would only make him more tense. Tao Zui had no choice but to talk nonsense, but fortunately, he hit the mark.

He didn’t expect a few words to suddenly enlighten the boy, but at least relaxing on the road would keep his muscles from freezing up due to prolonged tension.

By comparison, things had been much easier last time. Before he could even offer much persuasion, Gu Nan had already relaxed.

With that thought, Tao Zui glanced at Gu Nan. At this moment, the future Movie Star was sitting in the passenger seat, completely absorbed in studying the audition script sent by the Criminal Litigation crew.

When invited to audition for Bone, Gu Nan’s script had been pitifully short—even when printed out, it wouldn’t have filled two full A4 pages. But this time, the script Su Jiqiu received was over a dozen pages long, encompassing nearly ten roles of varying sizes, including the male lead.

Reading through the audition script once was enough to get a general grasp of the story.

Perhaps because the screenwriter was female, Criminal Litigation framed its entire plot from the perspective of a female prosecutor. It was a classic “female-centric” film. The remaining roles with significant screen time, aside from the male lead judge, included the male second lead defendant and three witnesses.

After weighing the age, screen time, and highlights of the characters, Su Jiqiu ultimately chose to audition for one of the witnesses. This character was essentially the third male lead—not featuring much screen time, but highly striking and serving as a major turning point in the plot.

To prepare for this character’s audition, Su Jiqiu painstakingly picked apart details from less than a single page of dialogue, expanding the character’s personality and even writing a character biography. His preparation was far more thorough than Gu Nan’s, who had gone into battle the very day after receiving his audition invite.

Yet, the more he prepared, the more nervous Su Jiqiu became. This was likely the psychological weight of sunk costs.

After an hour’s drive, Tao Zui and the other two finally arrived at the audition venue.

The location was clearly a small commercial district converted from an old factory zone. It was a bit remote, but the red-brick buildings from the 1970s and 80s gave every structure a distinct sense of style. Almost all the storefront signs were handwritten and homemade. A closer look revealed that if a building wasn’t an art exam training institution, it was a café or a photography studio—it had the distinct air of a mini-industrial park.

The small theater was nestled in a corner of this park. In the past, it had been a place for factory-wide meetings and enriching the workers’ leisure lives. Now, it was being put to good use, occasionally staging dramas, and was said to be quite well-known in the theater community.

By the time Tao Zui and his companions arrived, the auditions were already underway, and the modest theater was packed to the brim.

“I used to hear people say that all the actors in the country are concentrated in three places: North City, Heng City, and Sea City. I thought that was a bit of an exaggeration before, but seeing this, it really lives up to its reputation,” Tao Zui remarked with some emotion.

For an obscure production crew, a mere small-scale audition session had drawn so many people to the venue. It was clear just how many individuals harboring stardom dreams were drifting through this massive city of North City.

“With so many people, can they finish the auditions in a single day?” Gu Nan hadn’t expected such a crowd either and asked in confusion.

Tao Zui shook his head blankly. “No idea. Theoretically speaking…”

Before he could finish, a man with a staff badge hanging around his neck raised a small megaphone and shouted, “Actors auditioning for the second male lead, numbers eleven through twenty, please come up to the stage!”

Out of the crowd sitting and standing below the stage, ten people immediately stepped forward. They marched up the steps onto the stage and lined up in a row before the production’s main creators.

The director sitting behind the table sized them up for a moment before speaking. “When your name is called, step forward and perform a segment.”

As Tao Zui watched the ten candidates step forward one by one to perform—only for the director to keep one to perform a second segment while eliminating the rest on the spot—his jaw nearly hit the floor.

“You can do it like that?!”

Su Jiqiu had never witnessed such a ruthless display before, and his calves began to tremble. “How can it be like this… Papa… Papa Tao…”

Hearing Su Jiqiu’s trembling voice, Tao Zui snapped his jaw shut. Putting on an air of “there’s nothing your old man hasn’t seen,” he patted Su Jiqiu on the shoulder. “It’s fine. Think of it this way: if you can survive this, what else could possibly stump you in the future? Right?”

Su Jiqiu: “…”

Mom, I want to go home QAQ

“Boss, the guy you had me keep tabs on went for an audition!” The man’s voice over the phone sounded sneaky due to the electronic distortion, which matched his profession perfectly.

Lu Junhao, who looked no older than eighteen or nineteen with his round eyes and round face, sat cross-legged in his chair. A flash of playfulness crossed his eyes. “An audition? What movie? Which role?”

“Well…”

“Old Ghost, you’re a private detective. Is this how vaguely you report back to your clients?” Lu Junhao twirled a pen, his tone casual yet sharp.

“I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare! I was just in a hurry, afraid of delaying your important business!” Old Ghost sat in a coffee shop, looking directly at the small theater across the street. “I’ll go find out right away. But man, this place… the parking fees are way too steep…”

Lu Junhao let out a tsk. “Got it. The money will be transferred to you right away.”

“Thank you, Boss! Boss is so generous!” Old Ghost hung up the phone and scurried over to the entrance of the small theater, only to be stopped by a staff member.

“What are you doing? Who are you? You can’t enter without a badge!”

Old Ghost scanned the sign at the door, then whipped out a pack of cigarettes with a grin. “Brother, I’m an extra. I heard there was an audition here and wanted to try my luck…”

The staff member glanced at the cigarettes in his hand and accepted them half-heartedly. “An extra? Why aren’t you waiting for gigs at the film base instead of running all the way here?”

“Isn’t it because there are too many people waiting for work over there? Besides, who wants to be an extra for the rest of their life, right?”

“That makes sense,” the staff member nodded, glancing back at the small theater. “But even though this is an open audition, the actors’ portfolios were all submitted in advance. They’re going up on stage by their assigned numbers after a round of screening. You’re too late coming now!”

“Ah, shoot! I thought an open audition meant anyone could walk up on stage! Look at the mess I’ve made…”

Old Ghost put on a look of deep distress. After a long moment, he said sheepishly, “Then… could you let me watch and learn from the sidelines? I won’t go inside! I’ll just watch from the doorway! I promise not to disturb the stars while they’re acting!”

The staff member let out a snort. “What kind of stars do you think they are… Fine, just watch from the doorway! Don’t go inside, or I’ll call the cops!”

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t you worry, Brother!”

Having secured permission, Old Ghost hurried over to the theater entrance, peeking inside from behind the doorframe to watch the action.

Before long, he located the target figure, Gu Nan. There was no other reason than the fact that this guy was simply too eye-catching.

In a room packed with handsome men and beautiful women, there wasn’t a single person with a smaller head or more striking features than him. Furthermore, standing right beside him was a beauty whose visuals didn’t lose out to his in the slightest. The two of them were like a pair of magnets, drawing everyone’s gaze.

Old Ghost kept his eyes glued to the doorway for most of the day, but even by the time Gu Nan and his companions left the theater, he hadn’t seen his target step onto the stage once.

Could it be that today… it wasn’t Gu Nan auditioning? But rather that four-eyes guy next to him?

Recalling how the four-eyes guy had walked onto the stage earlier, turning his head back with every step, Old Ghost slapped his own forehead.

Crap! I gave the boss the wrong information! What do I do now? Confess to the boss that I botched it? No, no, no, absolutely not! It wasn’t easy finding such a cushy gig, and the boss pays so generously…

Old Ghost’s eyes darted around. He caught sight of the three figures walking away in the distance and turned back toward his parking spot. Along the way, he pulled out his phone and dialed Lu Junhao’s number.

“Hey, Boss, I’ve got it all sorted out. Gu Nan is auditioning for the third male lead in Criminal Litigation…”