Chapter 227: Chapter 227 The Top Male Idol
"Sangsang?" Wen Jiu tentatively called out.
"It’s me." Sang Ning nodded.
Wen Jiu was silent for a moment, then reached out and touched Sang Ning’s face. "Aren’t you the one playing Jiuqiansui? Why are you dressed up like a man?"
Even without wearing height-increasing shoes, Sang Ning was already a little over half a head taller than Wen Jiu.
Now, with Wen Jiu only wearing flat-soled shoes, she looked exceptionally petite standing in front of Sang Ning.
Being gazed at gently by Wen Jiu with her head tilted up, Sang Ning almost felt the illusion that she had really turned into a man.
It seemed like Wen Jiu was still unaware of the internal role switch in their group.
Sang Ning sighed, "It’s a long story. The short version is, while you were away these past two days, Qingyue and I switched roles. He’s playing Jiuqiansui, and I’m playing the General."
"Was it Ma Liheng acting on his own again? I’m going to find him right now and demand an explanation!" Wen Jiu’s emotions couldn’t help but ignite, breaking away from her usual tenderness.
Sang Ning placed her hand on Wen Jiu’s shoulder and pressed down lightly but firmly. "Calm down, Xiao Jiu! The recording is about to begin, and at this point, it wouldn’t make much sense to swap back the roles."
"But Qingyue is completely unsuited for this role." Wen Jiu frowned.
"That’s his problem. As long as I fit the role, isn’t that enough? Don’t worry; I promise I won’t let you down during the performance." Sang Ning deftly pinched Wen Jiu’s cheek.
Ever since that night when she had saved Wen Jiu from a group of teenage troublemakers, Sang Ning increasingly felt that Wen Jiu was a delicate, soft girl who needed careful protection.
Even though Wen Jiu was actually older than her, Sang Ning couldn’t help but see her as a little sister from next door.
Sang Ning headed back to the dressing room. After she left, a disgruntled middle-aged man’s voice sounded in the mentor’s lounge.
"Wen Jiu, are you badmouthing people with no regard for who’s listening? I’m still sitting here properly, but you’re acting like I’m dead, huh?"
Wen Jiu turned around, her expression blank as she looked at Ma Liheng. "Mr. Ma, why didn’t you inform me in advance about the role swap? Technically, I’m Sang Ning’s group mentor and have the right to know about such things."
In the lounge, there were only Ma Liheng and Wen Jiu at the moment. Without others present, Ma Liheng didn’t even try to maintain a facade.
His gaze toward Wen Jiu was full of disdain as he sneered, "Wen Jiu, please understand your position. Don’t think that just because you’ve set up a shabby little artist workshop, you have any say here. Let me remind you who’s really in charge of this show so you can stay self-aware."
Wen Jiu found it amusing and looked deeply at Ma Liheng. "Oh really, who’s in charge? Qingyue?"
Ma Liheng fell silent, his hands clasped over his abdomen. Leaning back on the sofa with his eyes closed, he took on a meditative stance.
**
The second episode of "Who’s the Real Actor?" officially began filming.
The entire recording was tightly paced, with no filler. As soon as the host finished the opening remarks, it was time for the trainees to take the stage for their performances.
Per the pre-recording draw, Sang Ning’s group was scheduled as the fourth to perform.
The first group to take the stage was Qin Kai’s group. Their performance’s theme was idol drama.
The story’s gist revolved around the female lead, who had a long-standing crush on the male lead. At her friends’ urging, she mustered the courage to confess her feelings, only to be cruelly rejected.
The storyline was clichéd and formulaic. The female lead was a wealthy heiress, while the male lead came from a poor family and was a top student.
Although their feelings for each other were mutual, the male lead’s inferiority complex from his upbringing kept him from reciprocating the female lead’s love.
The challenge of this performance lay in the male lead’s ability to depict the restrained, cautious love he dared not acknowledge.
If the actor underdelivered, it might easily come across to the audience as melodramatic or ungrateful.
In other words, the trainee playing the male lead was at high risk of elimination. A single misplaced emotion would land him straight onto the elimination list.
In Qin Kai’s group, both the male and female leads were chosen through internal group voting, and Qin Kai was the popular choice for the male lead.
The female lead paired with Qin Kai was a young actress named Chen Li, who frequently played underground revolutionaries in war dramas.
Chen Li wasn’t very old, only about 24, but her mature appearance in war dramas often gave viewers the impression she was in her thirties.
On stage now, however, she had swapped to a fresh, youthful look. Gone was the matronly hair bun—her sleek and shiny black hair now flowed naturally down her waist.
Paired with a simple white dress, she truly embodied the vibe of a campus drama’s female lead.
The performance was set just outside a library, where Chen Li and a group of friends waited for Qin Kai to emerge so she could hand him a love letter and confess her feelings.
While waiting for Qin Kai to come out of the library, Chen Li’s dialogue with her friends captured the conflicting emotions of a young girl—eager yet hesitant—with remarkable precision.
Sang Ning silently marveled, "Actors from serious dramas truly have exceptional skills!"
However, when the plot reached the moment Chen Li finally built up her courage and handed the love letter to Qin Kai, Sang Ning couldn’t hold it in any longer.
"Senior, I like you. Will you please accept my love letter?" Chen Li’s arm was extended stiffly, forming a perfect 90° angle with her body.
At that moment, her gaze toward Qin Kai showed no hint of shyness or nervousness.
Her eyes and tone were so firm it felt like she was asking, "Comrade, would you be willing to join our ranks?"
The mentors burst into laughter at Chen Li’s performance, and the trainees watching from the sidelines couldn’t help but giggle.
But Chen Li’s mental resilience was impressive; she wasn’t thrown off by the laughter on stage.
Realizing the earlier deviations in her acting, she quickly adjusted her emotions and resumed the performance.
The minor slip didn’t detract from the overall viewing experience, and she successfully advanced.
After her performance, the mentors asked why she had portrayed her emotions the way she did.
Chen Li chuckled at herself. "I’m sorry, but I often pair up with Brother Kai in roles. When I handed him the love letter, it felt more like I was passing him classified information."
Qin Kai humorously played along, extending his right hand to her. "Comrade, nice to meet you. I’m Agent 337."
This exchange mirrored a scene from a spy film where Qin Kai and Chen Li had previously appeared as minor characters.
Chen Li clasped his hand in response. "Agent 337, I’m Falcon."
As Qin Kai and Chen Li shook hands, the camera zoomed in on their interaction. This snippet would undoubtedly make a perfect addition to the final edited broadcast.
As Sang Ning had anticipated, Qin Kai also advanced successfully.
His performance had impressive depth. When his crush confessed her feelings, his eyes first lit up with joy—his unspeakable love finally reciprocated.
Then came struggle and self-doubt. How could someone like him deserve the shining favor of someone as bright as the sun?
Gradually, the spark in his eyes dimmed, until his expression turned indifferent. Despite the lingering struggle in his gaze, he coldly rejected the confession in the end.
Sang Ning couldn’t help but think Qin Kai was a serious-drama actor who had hidden talents for idol dramas. If he seriously pursued a proper idol drama, he might just carve out a prominent place in the year-end rankings of top male stars.