After Transmigrating Back, I Became My Own Stand-in - Chapter 19

Shi Xu thought she had misheard and froze for a moment.

But now, everyone was looking either at her or at Shen Tianqing, who was walking toward them. Sun Sitiao was staring at Shen Tianqing with wide eyes, her entire being perfectly illustrating her unrequited obsession.

Shi Xu: “You’re going to demonstrate personally? But I haven’t even memorized the lines.”

She even let out a yawn. That “sweet girl” persona she had been forced to maintain was now shattered and nearly non-existent. In the live comment section, her dedicated thread was full of insults.

【Meng Heng really looks like she has no ambition at all. A famous director is personally guiding her, and she looks like she’s not even interested.】

【The filter is broken… Meng Heng has a great face but really can’t be carried. I think even Shen Tianqing will struggle to teach her.】

【Director Shen actually stopped slacking off… making Sun Sitiao, watching from the back, look so pitiful… why bother?】

Shen Tianqing: “You talk too much.”

Yuan Qi, standing nearby, couldn’t help but giggle.

The rehearsal room wasn’t equipped with costumes or props, and to an outsider, it might not look like much. However, once they entered the state, people found themselves drawn in.

The room was heated. Under her coat, Shen Tianqing wore a long-sleeved shirt and trousers with slits at the calves; she looked exceptionally relaxed.

Shi Xu knew she couldn’t escape it. “Alright, let’s go.”

In the eyes of others, she was as thin as a rail and looked like she had no strength. This scene was a hug after an argument—the heartbroken sister-in-law being held by the younger sister-in-law.

Jiang Xiu wasn’t very old; she married at twenty-five, and Li Xin was sixteen that year. A nine-year gap represented completely different paths in life.

When Shi Xu played the younger sister-in-law years ago, she wasn’t exactly young herself.

She originally thought playing a young girl would feel off because she didn’t look like a “sweet girl,” but the director had chosen her specifically.

She was taller than Zhang Quan, and in this scene back then, the director required her to hug the other person firmly.

The argument segment had many lines. Neither Shi Xu nor the onlookers expected Shen Tianqing to enter the state so quickly.

Her lines were flawless—steady yet carrying a strong sense of emotional turbulence—accompanied by eyes that reddened instantly and a tear that fell as she turned her head.

Shi Xu reached out to grab her. Li Xin was naturally strong and not a frail girl; in the Li family, even the brother looked more delicate. She grabbed Jiang Xiu’s hand and called out, “Sister-in-law!”

As the other woman struggled, Shi Xu pulled her directly into a hug. This hug had taken a long time to film back then; Shi Xu remembered being nearly exhausted. It was a relationship based on mutual dependence—too much would feel greasy, too little would look wooden. Preparing intense emotions over and over for retakes is draining; she could barely remember exactly how they finally passed the scene.

She was half a head taller than Shen Tianqing. When she held her, it didn’t feel like she was trying to crush the other person into her chest; instead, it was like a child wanting to nestle into the other’s embrace. She hugged the other’s waist, leaned her head against the other’s chest, and called out “Sister-in-law” again with a choked voice.

They were too close. Shen Tianqing had a perfume scent that made one feel drowsy—the base note was even like agarwood, giving Shi Xu the feeling of being in a Buddhist temple. Her hand moved slightly, dutifully playing the role of the rookie, Meng Heng.

“Relax a bit, don’t be so stiff.”

Shi Xu hummed in response. Once she adjusted, Shen Tianqing told her to start over.

“I just hope…”

The posture wasn’t particularly “beautiful”; back then, it relied on the two actors’ forms and camera angles to present it.

“Hope you have a better life…”

As the scene ended, Shen Tianqing pushed her away immediately, making Shi Xu feel like a complete “prop.” She didn’t look at Shi Xu but turned to the stunned Yuan Qi, taking a tissue from a staff member. “Did you see my expression?”

“Don’t just stare blankly.”

She even mimicked Yuan Qi’s expression from earlier.

【Meng Heng is just sht. Someone like her can debut and act in one drama after another? She hasn’t even memorized the lines as well as Shen Tianqing!】

【I sincerely apologize for my previous insults toward Director Shen. I’m so sorry; I didn’t realize your temper was so good when you’re directing.】

【Oh my god!! Meng Heng’s acting is so inconsistent. Honestly, the moment she pulled her was so Alpha, but the next second her voice ruined the immersion. Can’t she speak properly??】

【I’m dying, Yuan Qi is stunned. A master-class demonstration—I’d be under huge pressure too!】

【Don’t you guys think Meng Heng actually isn’t that bad?】

Yuan Qi’s acting was more expressive and needed someone to lead her, but her scene partner was Shi Xu playing Meng Heng—someone who deeply understood the “primitive” characteristics of staring blankly and gaping. She oscillated between “decent” and “rotten,” almost as if she had the word “Rotten” tattooed on her forehead. The livestream for this rehearsal room was scrolling with rows of “We’re doomed” comments.

Shen Tianqing didn’t say anything else and stepped out first.

A week of rehearsal passed with directors rotating to give guidance and groups checking out each other’s progress. By Thursday, the 1:1 sets were built. Modern technology allowed for a complete recreation of the scenes; Shi Xu felt the most exquisite one was the interior for the campus drama.

Yuan Qi: “Xiao Heng, how do you think you’re performing?”

Shi Xu: “Terribly.”

The production script didn’t provide an elimination list to ensure everyone’s expressions remained authentic, but Yuan Qi felt she was a “dead woman walking.”

Shi Xu: “It’s okay, there’s another round. You won’t be eliminated until the second round ends anyway.”

Shi Xu patted Yuan Qi’s shoulder. She felt the other girl was more nervous than she was. With a smile on her face, she asked: “Why are you more anxious than I am?”

Yuan Qi pinched the hem of her clothes. “It just feels like everyone is so talented.”

The comment section was lamenting: “Can you please bring this natural state into your acting?!”

The internet had been mocking her “blind acting” for a week, but the person involved seemed to completely ignore it. On camera, the two girls leaned together to talk, but the specifics couldn’t be heard, and the music in the rehearsal room was loud. However, everyone could see that Meng Heng seemed to be comforting Yuan Qi.

【She’s really so confident. I’ve seen Sun Sitiao’s livestream rehearsal; it’s much better than hers.】

【Our Sister Heng could play the female lead even if she came in dead last (doge face for safety).】

【I have no expectations for what this show can produce, but I’m looking forward to Meng Heng’s benefactor being exposed and Shen Tianqing’s ‘crematorium’ drama.】

Shi Xu found playing Meng Heng quite exhausting, but in the eyes of others, she was Meng Heng. That bit of “coldness” being acted out as “poker-face” was considered normal, not to mention the muffled voice when running lines with Yuan Qi, as if she had something in her mouth.

“If everyone is talented, then just learn from them.”

Shi Xu pulled a coconut candy from her pocket and gave it to her. Yuan Qi sighed. “I’m so afraid of Director Shen coming to inspect.”

Shen Tianqing was there every day, truly providing guidance, which was actually quite beneficial for the trainees. But Yuan Qi said the woman’s tone was so calm it was hair-raising, “as if she could scatter my ashes the next second.”

Shi Xu laughed uncontrollably. “Why would she scatter your ashes?”

Yuan Qi: “Her advice hits the nail on the head, but even though her expression isn’t fierce, I feel like if I don’t act well again, she’ll scatter my ashes.”

Shi Xu maintained a peaceful mindset. “This isn’t something that can be rushed. Take it slow. Don’t worry, in the individual rankings, I’ll definitely be at the bottom.”

She was super confident in her own “acting”—perfect “blind” acting.

Saturday of the new week arrived. A week of continuous livestreaming had built up massive momentum for A World from a New Line. The number of people registered for the new livestream exceeded ten million. This time, the actors were all in the waiting area. Shi Xu was wearing a faded T-shirt, a very simple look that made her look like a student, but she was the one being insulted the most for the promotional posters released the day before.

This had caught the production team off guard; they hadn’t realized during their background check that the movie Evening Breeze still had active fans online.

Their group was the last to perform. From the waiting room, they could see the main stage performances. Unlike their group, the oldest film aside from Evening Breeze was only five years old. With live music, the urban plots looked quite convincing. One group playing a mother who lost her child was very infectious; Yuan Qi was moved to tears just watching.

Shi Xu: “So impressive.”

When she clapped, her movements were very small, as if restricted by her oversized sleeves, but it looked incredibly pretentious. Sun Sitiao, sitting nearby, glanced at her and took a deep breath. Although she wasn’t aiming to stay, she was terrified of being in a group with this person in the future.

The scores for the first few groups were quite objective, and the directors’ advice was constructive. Shi Xu watched the screen and smiled as she listened to Shen Tianqing’s razor-sharp evaluations. Her impression of Shen Tianqing was divided: on one hand, she saw her as the child she knew before she left; on the other, she was trapped in Meng Heng’s identity and had to view the woman as a “canary” would.

Shen Tianqing, as a benefactor, wasn’t a bad deal for Meng Heng. There was no actual physical relationship, and the woman seemed to hate trouble even more than she did.

The real Meng Heng had left because of the pressure of Shen Tianqing’s personality and the hopelessness of her life, but the biggest factor was her own resignation—since there was nothing to miss, she might as well leave.

Shen Tianqing had indeed grown into a completely different adult than the one Shi Xu had once imagined.

The score cards could be reshuffled after each group. After four groups, the cards had changed significantly. But some people remained unchanged—like Yuan Qi, who was still a B.

When it was Shi Xu’s group’s turn, the music started early. The previous comedy theme shifted abruptly to a period piece, which was actually refreshing. Yuan Qi hadn’t acted much and had only played minor roles like the “second female lead in a romance,” so she was clearly out of her depth.

“Sister-in-law, I’ve finished my exams. You don’t have to be this good to me.”

Shi Xu’s lines were very “slice-of-life.” She looked at her admission letter under the lamp, her hands trembling slightly, but her facial expression showed no emotion.

“Xiao Xin, why do you say that? It’s only right for your sister-in-law to be good to you. You’ve gotten into university; relax a bit. Guimei next door has already gone out to play.”

Yuan Qi’s styling for a thirty-year-old was fine, but her temperament wasn’t mature enough, making her look stiff. When the roles were announced, many complained that Meng Heng should have played the sister-in-law instead.

“Sister-in-law, I have something to say to you.”

Li Xin looked up. The background was a room; she sat at a desk where the lamp didn’t even have a shade, and a few insects fluttered around. Summer had arrived, and the sound of frogs outside was noisy. Jiang Xiu sat by her bedside. “What is it? Tell me.”

“Sister-in-law, if I go to university, will you be home alone?”

Shi Xu looked up. In the previous weeks of rehearsal livestreams, the audience had grown numb to Meng Heng’s “acting.” Even though she had improved under Shen Tianqing’s “torture,” it still felt disjointed.

But the close-up shot showed her face—now stripped of its usual “sweet” makeup—with a hint of heroism. It truly had a bit of the old Shi Xu’s flavor.

Li Xin was someone who looked indifferent but was actually very independent. Back then, when her parents wanted her brother to go to school instead of her, she made a scene, going to the village chief, begging the teachers and the principal.

Her relationship with her brother wasn’t good; Li Qianbing was refined but spoiled. He only graduated high school and didn’t even get into university, yet his parents praised him endlessly while telling Li Xin to give up.

Family is sometimes a cage. Li Xin knew this, but she couldn’t leave. She hadn’t expected time to crush her father’s spine, or for her brother to die young, leaving a young widow and eventually seeing their mother off.

Li Xin thought her sister-in-law would leave when her brother died. But Jiang Xiu didn’t. When their mother died, she thought she’d leave then, but her sister-in-law still stayed.

She didn’t understand her. She felt she was too useless. With such a good chance, she could just remarry; why stay trapped here with her and pay for her schooling? In the early part of this role, all the silent shots were actually a kind of bewilderment toward Jiang Xiu.

The first time Li Xin felt loved in her life was also through Jiang Xiu. Others didn’t want her, but she wanted her sister-in-law.

“Where else could I go? I’ll wait at home for you to come back.”

Li Xin grabbed Jiang Xiu’s hand. “No.”

Jiang Xiu let out an “Ah” and looked up. In the original film, the actress had a natural womanly charm—pure yet seductive—but Yuan Qi lacked that. She was too “green.”

Shi Xu sighed inwardly, but on the surface, she showed a clumsy anxiety: “You can’t stay at home!”

Normally, this scene would have been Shi Xu’s perfect performance of “playing Meng Heng,” but the next second, Yuan Qi forgot her lines. She just stared at Shi Xu.

Shi Xu: “…”

“Sister-in-law, come with me to the provincial capital!”

She gripped tighter. Yuan Qi broke free, stood up, and turned away. “I’m not going.”

Holy mother, why did she get the lines wrong! Shi Xu kept her expression and simply stopped following the original film. “Sister-in-law, I don’t need you to give me living expenses for university. Why don’t you go to night school? Didn’t you say you wanted to continue…”

“I…” Yuan Qi was so anxious her voice trembled. Shi Xu thought: You’re even more of a ‘prodigy’ than I am; a complete mess.

“Are you going to remarry then?” Shi Xu simply said the other’s line for her. The line was supposed to be: “Xiao Xin, once you go to university, I can finally remarry with a clear conscience.”

Yuan Qi hummed an “Mmm.” Shi Xu stood up and faced her. “That’s not what you said before.”

Yuan Qi was barely 1.6 meters tall; in this small space, Shi Xu’s presence was very oppressive. Yuan Qi moved away. “What can I even do…”

【She forgot her lines! She forgot her lines!! I’m shocked. Yuan Qi, you looked so capable but you’re even worse!】

【Meng Heng actually acted quite well… shocking. Her live performance is better than the rehearsal; how did this happen…】

【Yuan Qi’s performance of the sister-in-law’s breakdown had zero emotional impact… I even wanted to light a cigarette.】

【Crap, why was I actually moved by Meng Heng’s hug? Is this the kind of period piece they could broadcast on the big screen back then? I only felt that she loved her so much she wanted to take her to the city to study…】

【Shocking, Meng Heng’s eyes are red… that moment really looked like Shi Xu. Why has no one said she looks like Shi Xu!!】

【Fans discussed it during the talent show, but there was no marketing. A crappy company… her features look like her, but she followed the ‘sweet girl’ route; later, the makeup made her look even less like her.】

【Help, I actually think Meng Heng is so fucking ‘Top’ (Alpha)… her voice is even hoarse, she wants to fly away with her, wuu wuu.】

Shi Xu was halfway through the performance when she realized she might have overdone it. But it was too late.

On the mentor bench:

Zhao Manchun: “I couldn’t tell before, but Meng Heng has quite a bit of explosive power.”

Ji Qiao: “Yuan Qi forgot her lines just now, didn’t she? If I hadn’t read the script, I would have been swept right along. It was very natural.”

Chen Caiwei turned to Shen Tianqing. “Little Shen, what do you think?”

Shen Tianqing had a smile all over her face, but her hand was gripping her marker so hard she nearly poked a hole through the card.

“Excellent. So, was your previous claim that you couldn’t memorize lines just an act?”

Not long after, the “Hot Search King” Meng Heng hit another target. But today’s title was a bit funny:

#MengHengIForgotMyLinesIWasActing#