After Transmigrated as a Black-Hearted Entertainment Boss [Transmigration] - Chapter 9

Tao Zui: “Nervous?”

Gu Nan: “…I’m okay.”

Tao Zui glanced at Gu Nan in the passenger seat, the corners of his mouth curving slightly but saying nothing. ‘Okay,’ he says, yet he’s gripping that phone so hard it might start sweating…

However, it wasn’t just Gu Nan; Tao Zui himself felt a bit restless. After all, he was an accidental agent who only knew the entertainment industry through theoretical knowledge. Whether this circle was truly as bizarre and kaleidoscopic as the rumors suggested—those doubts made it impossible for him to remain perfectly composed.

He carried the fates of five people on his shoulders. It felt similar to when his parents died unexpectedly, leaving him to raise his younger brother (who had just started middle school) while he was only a sophomore in college—but this was much heavier.

Five people… yeah, they’re definitely a bit heavier than one.

Driving away these distracting thoughts as if mocking himself, Tao Zui focused on the road ahead. “Do your best and leave the rest to fate. You give it your all; I’ll handle everything else.”

Hearing those words, for some reason, the heart that had been drifting since Gu Nan received the script suddenly settled. He finally felt a sense of groundedness.

“Setting everything else aside, the character you’re auditioning for fits you perfectly,” Tao Zui said, turning the steering wheel.

“Mm,” Gu Nan replied softly, the profile of the third male lead from Day and Night surfacing in his mind.

A youth in his early twenties drifting on the streets. A brawler, a thug, a henchman for a drug lord—but also the police’s deepest-planted informant. He isn’t an undercover cop; he lacks that shred of righteousness. Yet, he isn’t a pure villain either, retaining a sliver of conscience. He dies in a rain-drenched alley right at the start of the film. The undercover officer who was his sole contact goes missing, and his identity—like a floating piece of duckweed—is revealed bit by bit as the police hunt for the killer, eventually dragging the entire drug network down with him.

The third lead doesn’t have much screen time, but he is the crucial thread connecting the entire film. The plot begins with him, extends to the missing undercover cop, then the drug lord—every step linked until the final confrontation.

When Tao Zui said the role “fit” Gu Nan, he didn’t mean Gu Nan was a delinquent. Rather, Gu Nan had lived at the bottom of society; he knew the postures and forms of those on the margins. Even if he was just imitating, he could make it hit home.

Soon, the car stopped in front of a four-star hotel. Looking at the less-than-glamorous entrance, Tao Zui couldn’t help but sigh, “No one has it easy.”

It was said that Jiang Qisheng had begged everyone he knew to scrape together 30 million yuan for this movie. While not a tiny budget, it wasn’t high for a feature film either. No wonder the director in the original novel was always complaining about a lack of funds.

But no matter how down-and-out the director was, someone was willing to invest tens of millions in him. Taoli Entertainment, meanwhile, had to rely on selling its own houses. Comparing the two, Tao Zui felt he was the more pathetic one.

Shaking off these thoughts, Tao Zui led Gu Nan to the designated suite and knocked on the door exactly on time.

As the door opened, Tao Zui saw three men in the living room. Aside from the one who opened the door, the other two were sitting on the sofa. All three were middle-aged men who looked somewhat similar in their attire at a glance. However, he immediately identified the two on the sofa: Director Jiang Qisheng and actor Wang Minda. The one at the door was likely the casting director.

Tao Zui put on his “professional” brilliant smile, reaching out warmly but without servility. “Director Zheng, hello. I am Gu Nan’s agent, Tao Zui.”

Casting Director Zheng’s eyes lit up. “You know who I am? Hello, hello!”

Actually, I just deduced it. Tao Zui ignored the question, maintained his smile, and shook his hand. “Hello.”

“Come, come, let me introduce you. This is the director of our film, Jiang Qisheng, Director Jiang. And this one… I probably don’t need to introduce him? One of our male leads, Teacher Wang Minda.” Perhaps because he was happy to be recognized, Director Zheng made the introductions with exceptional enthusiasm.

Tao Zui politely shook hands with both, then stepped aside to reveal Gu Nan. Gu Nan didn’t freeze up; he bowed ninety degrees and greeted them one by one: “Director Jiang, Teacher Wang, Director Zheng. I am Gu Nan.”

Jiang Qisheng sized Gu Nan up, looking more satisfied by the second. He smiled. “Hello. Then, let’s not waste time. Prepare yourselves and let’s begin?”

“Alright.” Tao Zui found a seat on a single sofa near the window. The others sat as well, leaving Gu Nan standing alone in the cleared-out living room.

If Gu Nan had only been slightly nervous on the way there, at this moment, his heart was pounding uncontrollably. He didn’t even know where to put his hands or feet.

Sensing Gu Nan’s state, Tao Zui spoke up in time: “Director Jiang, which scene would you like to see?”

The audition script provided only two segments—one with dialogue and one without. The non-verbal one was undoubtedly harder. On the way over, they had agreed to perform that one. Tao Zui asking now was just to give Gu Nan a moment to breathe. Even if Director Jiang unexpectedly chose the dialogue scene, they were well-prepared and didn’t fear a surprise check; they only worried about nerves affecting the performance.

Director Jiang pondered for a moment, looking at Gu Nan. “Let’s do the scene where ‘Bone’ encounters Teacher Wang after beating up his lackey. Teacher Wang, I’ll have to trouble you to act alongside Little Gu.”

Wang Minda smiled affably and stood up. “No problem.”

“Bone” was the character name for the third male lead, and Wang Minda played the lead undercover cop. In this scene, Bone beats up a subordinate who was caught using drugs. As he walks out of the dark alley, he runs into the undercover cop. The cop lights a cigarette for him and asks why he was fighting. Bone just smiles, says nothing, and staggers away with the cigarette in his mouth.

In the movie, this scene takes place in the first half. It is the moment where Bone, acting as the lead that exposes the entire drug organization, shifts the focus toward the undercover officer.

In Director Jiang’s mind, this was Bone’s “highlight” moment. He had to be ruthless—the “evil” of the man had to show through the raw, physical violence of the fight. But at the same time, a sliver of goodness had to peek through his refusal to let his subordinate use drugs. More importantly, there was something hidden beneath that goodness.

He didn’t expect Gu Nan to portray the deepest complexities of the character; showing that second layer of conscience would be enough. Among actors in the right age range with the right look who were also affordable, there weren’t many choices. He was willing to lower his standards slightly. Having Wang Minda act with Gu Nan was also a hope that the veteran’s superb acting would pull the newcomer into the role.

Hearing Director Jiang choose this scene, Gu Nan felt a sense of relief—the other shoe had dropped. He gradually calmed down. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back to the hallway of the suite, treating it as the exit of a dark alley, and gave a slight bow to Wang Minda.

After the veteran nodded in response, Gu Nan adjusted his posture. With a slightly hunched back, he walked toward the living room. As he walked, he carelessly felt around his pockets as if searching for something.

He’s looking for a cigarette! Wang Minda followed the lead perfectly. He stepped forward with a teasing expression: “What’s the situation? Why such a big temper?” While speaking, he naturally took a cigarette from his pocket and handed it to Gu Nan.

Gu Nan didn’t answer. He took the cigarette, placed it in his mouth, mimed lighting it, and took a deep breath. Then, he tilted his head slightly, gave Wang Minda a small nod, and a faint smile.

His movement was like a thank you, but his expression carried a hint of playfulness. Most captivating, however, were his eyes—void of joy or sorrow, as calm as still water.

Seeing those eyes, Jiang Qisheng sat bolt upright. His gaze was locked onto Gu Nan, and he didn’t make a sound even after Gu Nan staggered all the way to the window.

Gu Nan was a bit confused.

Technically, after the cigarette light and the few steps, the scene should have ended. But no one shouted “Cut” or “Stop.” The silence was terrifying. He could only stay in character, walking until he reached the window with nowhere else to go. Only then did he look back at Tao Zui with unease.

That look—slightly aggrieved, slightly confused—snapped Tao Zui out of his shock. He finally understood why Gu Nan would eventually become the youngest Triple Crown Movie Star!

This level of acting wasn’t just “God’s gift”—it was as if God were chasing him down, begging him to eat a full imperial banquet!

Receiving Gu Nan’s SOS look, Tao Zui immediately cleared his throat to break the silence. “Ahem, Director Jiang…”

“Great!”

To Tao Zui’s surprise, Jiang Qisheng interrupted him. The director slapped his thigh and beckoned Gu Nan over frantically. “Come, come, Little Gu. Take a look at this scene. Can you give me ten minutes to prepare?”

Gu Nan walked over, dazed. Looking at the new plot segment on Jiang Qisheng’s phone, he nodded. “I can.”

Just like that, Jiang Qisheng had Gu Nan perform three scenes in a row, nearly testing every major moment for “Bone.” By the time the next actor arrived for an audition, the director was still holding Tao Zui’s hand, hinting strongly: “You guys head back first. I expect we’ll be in touch by tomorrow morning at the latest. Yes, in touch!”

Tao Zui understood perfectly. He shook Jiang Qisheng’s hand. “Then we shall wait for the good news, Director Jiang.”

Once they were in the car, he told Gu Nan directly, “You can start preparing to join the crew. We’ll hire a temporary assistant once we get to the film city. I’ll have Zhang Ling make a list of what you need to bring.”

Gu Nan licked his lips and whispered, “The results aren’t out yet.”

Tao Zui turned the wheel onto the main road, a confident smile on his face. “Director Jiang won’t choose anyone else but you. Only you can portray that sense of desolation.”

It wasn’t just that sliver of kindness or the necessary ruthlessness; it was the desolation of a small figure at the bottom of society, like rootless duckweed drifting with fate.

However, Tao Zui didn’t receive a call from Jiang Qisheng until the following afternoon.

If it had been an open casting call, waiting a few days would be normal. But Gu Nan had received an audition invitation. Usually, this meant the director invited a few preferred actors to perform. If they didn’t find anyone suitable, they would then consider expanding the search or holding open auditions.

After an audition like this, whether a candidate is chosen or rejected, the process is very fast. What usually takes time is the contract negotiation afterward.

Given Jiang Qisheng’s attitude yesterday, Gu Nan’s chance of landing the role was at least 90%, if not 100%. To be passed over like this… it was almost certainly unrelated to the actor’s performance.

Tao Zui’s expression turned grim. After much thought, he didn’t call Jiang Qisheng directly. Instead, he called the casting director, Director Zheng.

Since both sides knew the purpose of the call, it didn’t take long for Director Zheng to follow Tao Zui’s lead and give him the inside scoop.

“Director Jiang was indeed very satisfied with Little Gu. But Young Tao, you know that making a movie isn’t just about the right person; there are many factors involved… Don’t be too anxious. Little Gu has such acting skills at a young age; his future is limitless. At the very least, he’s made a mark on me, Director Jiang, and even Teacher Wang. You don’t know how long Director Jiang praised him in private after the audition. Sigh, I can only say the timing wasn’t right.”

The timing wasn’t right… After hanging up, Tao Zui stood by the floor-to-ceiling window for a long time.

He didn’t dare ask too bluntly, fearing Director Zheng would say they passed because Taoli Entertainment had too much negative news.

But then he remembered—in the original novel, when Gu Nan acted in Day and Night, it was also Taoli Entertainment that signed the contract with the crew. Although the agent in the book cursed Gu Nan for taking outside work, they didn’t stop him from acting.

If it wasn’t because of Taoli Entertainment, and it wasn’t because of Gu Nan himself… then where exactly did things go wrong?