After Transmigrating Back, I Became My Own Stand-in - Chapter 14

Shi Xu had spent a little time getting to know the other actors during the rehearsal walkthroughs. Most people were quite polite; a few were naturally slow to warm up, but they clearly bore no ill-will.

Sun Sitiao, however, was not so easy to get along with.

When Shi Xu first received the script, she did some research and found that she—or rather, Meng Heng—had actually worked with this woman before, having played a bit part in one of Sun’s old idol dramas.

Sun Sitiao had risen to fame much earlier than Meng Heng. She was a graduate of the Opera Academy, similar to Shi Xu’s past experience; she too specialized in female lead roles (Dan). However, she had started taking acting gigs during university, appearing in various famous dramas. Her roles were small at first, but the characters were likable. Eventually, her resources improved, and her reputation remained solid. It was her fans who were terrifying, praising her to the heavens with slogans like: “One minute on stage, ten years of work off-stage for our baby.”

Shi Xu felt that Sun’s resume was respectable enough. After all, she was backed by a major company and had the resources to show for it—she was likely a wealthy socialite herself.

But when Shi Xu tried to shake her hand earlier, she got the cold shoulder.

Sun Sitiao didn’t even bother hiding it; her “Hello” was so icy it sounded like Shi Xu owed her money. Shi Xu racked her brain but couldn’t find any mention of such a “debt” in Meng Heng’s memories. Even during the camera blocking that afternoon, Sun Sitiao had been uncooperative.

Interestingly, Chen Xiaoyin had actually chatted with Shi Xu for a while. Shi Xu found it ironic; this felt more like her actual script.

Under the glare of the live broadcast cameras, Sun Sitiao’s face wasn’t quite as sour, but the audience wasn’t blind—they could tell these two didn’t get along.

[Barrage Comments]:

“I don’t know why, but this is so funny. Meng Heng gives off the vibe that she’s ordering at a restaurant.”

“Haha, ‘Would you like some?’ Sun Sitiao’s eyes look like she’s staring at an idiot.”

“I just saw some memes in Meng Heng’s anti-group. She barely has any real fans, but her ability to act as a cringy, unlikable diva is top-tier.”

“I really feel bad for Sun Sitiao. She’s professionally trained in opera but insists on acting. She was an artist; now she’s an under-the-radar actress…”

Once all the actors had arrived, the four “S-rank” chairs on the luxurious five-person sofa were occupied—a lineup that would make anyone speechless.

Especially since Shi Xu actually had someone bring her a coffee. While the other four didn’t dare drink, she sipped hers comfortably. Meanwhile, the veteran actors—the “childhood memories” with actual acting skills—were sitting on the hard “B-rank” benches. The contrast was so sharp it made the viewers’ fists tighten.

Shi Xu didn’t show a hint of embarrassment: “We’re being randomly assigned soon, right?”

Sun Sitiao, sitting beside her, kept her eyes glued to the split-screen showing the mentors. Before Shi Xu could get awkward, a male actor nearby awkwardly stepped in and hummed in agreement to save her.

There were forty actors in total, with only five S-cards. Some rumors had circulated earlier that no one believed, but now that the rankings were out and the micro-expressions were captured on live TV, it had turned into a “reverse marketing” success.

The production team didn’t forbid phones; the show’s slogan was to present the “most authentic variety show scene.” The massive screen in the waiting room projected the mentors’ feed. The host had already started asking the mentors to press the button. All the names were rolling inside digital spheres on the screen, waiting for the mentors’ selection.

Shi Xu tilted her head and sighed, looking at her S-card. It was luxurious, but it wasn’t cash.

She looked up. During the countdown, Shen Tianqing was clearly being dragged into a conversation. Usually, a livestream would use camera cuts and effects to make things look smooth, but this show seemed to do it on purpose—they couldn’t hear what the mentors were saying, but they could see Chen Caiwei teasing Shen Tianqing.

Chen Caiwei was a high-ranking senior; even Zhao Manchun had to call her “Teacher.”

Back when Shi Xu was desperate for money, she took almost any role. She had even been an extra in Chen Caiwei’s dramas because Chen’s sets paid extras very well. She’d practically finish her shift at one set and walk next door to moonlighting as an extra here.

At first, Chen Caiwei didn’t know. She only found out during dinner when someone mentioned a “very interesting actor who was double-dipping as an extra.” Everyone laughed. Chen Caiwei found it novel and asked who it was. The next day, during a street scene, she saw Shi Xu in rough, short clothes. She asked what role Shi Xu had at the neighboring set.

Shi Xu said she was a stunt double. She was tall, so playing a man among the extras was no problem. When she spoke, her voice was like a spring breeze—open and refreshing. Later, Shi Xu was called in for a ten-second cameo: a female warrior in a hero’s memory.

That movie was later seen by Zhao Manchun, who immediately asked for Shi Xu’s contact info to let her audition for a supporting role. Shi Xu, a Daomadan by training, had a great figure and presence; she wasn’t “soft.” She could do her own stunts without wires, which Zhao Manchun praised endlessly. They collaborated again later.

These memories were over ten years old. Shi Xu didn’t expect to see these people again.

She pulled her gaze back, only to find Sun Sitiao holding her face, staring intensely at the person on the screen. All the other directors had families; there was only one “eccentric” single flower.

Sun Sitiao is definitely looking at Shen Tianqing, Shi Xu thought. My benefactor has quite the romantic prospects.

Normally, as the current “kept” woman, she should feel a sense of crisis. Instead, she felt a surge of excitement as a spectator, thinking her life was about to get a lot less boring.

While Shi Xu was “eating melons” (gossiping), Shen Tianqing was being pestered by her seniors about her dating life. In public, she gave them face and said she didn’t have plans for now.

Despite her words, she propped her chin on her hand and watched the screen. From a high angle, she looked like she was sitting in a blooming flower, her eyes soft and affectionate—looking almost approachable.

But that was an illusion. She was actually thinking about how to settle the score with Shi Xu.

Last time she went to inspect Meng Heng’s “homework,” the girl had actually sung her to sleep. It was the first time in ages Shen Tianqing had fallen asleep without medication, and she had dreamed of Shi Xu for the first time.

She dreamed Shi Xu gave her a hug—a one-time-only hug. It was a firm one, done in the name of a character. Shi Xu’s character was her master; the parting of master and disciple was a lifelong separation. It was the distance between life and death for Shi Xu and her.

Because the dream was so good—and led to other dreams—Shen Tianqing wasn’t that angry when the girl woke her up.

She had been sleeping in Meng Heng’s bed. The room was lit with a scented candle, smelling of bitter tea. The girl handed her her vibrating phone: “Director Shen, a call.”

Shen Tianqing glanced at her. The girl was in her pajamas, and in the warm yellow light, the fear that used to be in her eyes seemed to have vanished, replaced by a helpless compromise.

“Why didn’t you answer it for me?”

Shi Xu smiled: “I wouldn’t dare.”

It was a call from Chen Geni. Shen Tianqing picked up and immediately said: “What kind of mother calls her adult daughter at 2:30 AM?”

Because it was so quiet, Shi Xu could hear the voice: “Sorry to disturb my baby daughter. But we have to go to Hongtian Temple at 3:30. You used to be the one reminding me; how did you forget this year?”

Shen Tianqing sat up instantly, her hair falling over her face. Shi Xu, standing by, rubbed her temples—she was dying of sleepiness.

Shen Tianqing hummed an “Oh.” She didn’t care that her makeup had been removed as she threw on her clothes. Leaving the room, she found Shi Xu pouring a glass of water.

“Safe travels, Director Shen.”

Shen Tianqing buttoned up while pulling her hair out from under her collar. “My car isn’t here.”

Shi Xu: “I don’t have a car.”

Shen Tianqing sneered: “You’ve failed your driver’s test three times already.”

Shi Xu: Meng Heng, you’re really something. She scratched her head: “You’re not going to make me send you on a shared electric scooter, are you?”

Shen Tianqing didn’t expect such a grounded answer. She shot her a look. “No need. The driver will be here soon.”

Shi Xu didn’t know what to say, so she just offered a greeting: “Happy New Year.”

She felt the other woman was in a pretty good mood. Over what? Just listening to some opera?

Before leaving, Shen Tianqing transferred money to Shi Xu and reminded her to practice hard. Shi Xu yawned as she accompanied her to the elevator. When she got back, she checked her phone: 21,000 RMB received.

I am currently 21 years old. She let out a laugh. 21,000 wouldn’t even buy a single square meter of a house. She sighed, feeling her dream of owning a home was a long way off.

I probably can’t even squeeze a house out of serving this benefactor. Better just work hard at the job.

“Alright, directors, please press the selectors,” the host said.

Shi Xu checked the time. Yao Fangfang sent her a link. Since the current camera angle couldn’t see her phone, she clicked it open.

《Compilation of clues regarding ‘Traffic Flower’ Sun Sitiao being ‘kept’ by a benefactor》… [Image] [Image] This is the bracelet Shen Tianqing gave Sun Sitiao back then.

998L: Real or fake? Isn’t Sun Sitiao already quite rich? Does she need to be kept?

999L: Please, that’s the biological daughter of the Zhongxian CEO, the younger sister of the Mingyao Real Estate Mogul, top-tier socialite. Even just for Shen Tianqing herself, she’s a goddess anyone would scream for. So what if she’s been ‘bent’? (PS: More pictures of the Sister, please!)

1000L: Risking my life to leak—Shen Tianqing has a ‘White Moonlight.’ The person died young. Sun Sitiao doesn’t look like her, but her professional background is a huge plus…

Floor 1: Crap!! Need details! Who is the White Moonlight? Where did Shen Tianqing’s ‘widow’ vibe come from? There’s been no source for years—is it really because she lost her ‘husband’?

Floor 2: Husband my foot, she lost her ‘wife’! Isn’t Director Shen a famous Sadist? Who wouldn’t want to be toyed with by a beauty? I confess!

Floor 3: There are many actors with opera backgrounds, but if we’re talking about a White Moonlight who died early, there’s really only one…

Floor 4: Shi Xu?? That really is the ‘tear of the era.’ She was so pitiful and tragic.

Floor 5: Industry insider here, anonymous. I’ve worked with Director Shen’s team. She’s eccentric but actually quite good to actors… no tawdry scandals at all. I heard from a makeup artist that Director Shen has a ‘canary’ now, but the canary isn’t allowed to fall in love with her.

Floor 6: ? Does such a sucker exist in the world? Isn’t being a canary like that a dream?!

Floor 7: Dream my ass, you’d be missing out on a hundred million! Wait, is Sun Sitiao here because she loves Shen Tianqing? Then this show—crap! This is gonna be epic!

After scrolling to the bottom, Shi Xu’s gaze toward Sun Sitiao was filled with pure admiration.

Clearly, my understanding of love is too shallow, she thought.

Just then, the screen announced the members under each mentor. Shi Xu saw her name hanging right under Shen Tianqing.

And the name directly above hers was Sun Sitiao.

This is not like the script they gave me! She stared at the screen, deep in thought. The live camera cut to her face, making her expression look very intriguing. What really set the viewers off was that she actually turned to look at Sun Sitiao.

[Live Barrage]: “Why did Meng Heng suddenly look at Sun Sitiao?”

Sun Sitiao saw this comment on the monitor. She turned her head, and for a split second, their eyes met. Shi Xu reached out her hand: “Hello, teammate.”

Sun Sitiao actually didn’t want to shake hands. She knew exactly who this person belonged to. The fire of jealousy was enough to make her lose her composure, but in that instant, she felt the other woman’s gaze was incredibly familiar.

A moment later, she saw someone on the big screen’s barrage express it for her:

“Meng Heng’s gaze has the exact flavor of my aunties gossiping about me during New Year’s!!!”

Sun Sitiao: Is this person crazy?