Mr. Huo, my wife is offering 1000 billion for divorce!

When Zheng Qian swiped her card and pushed open the wooden door of the rehearsal room, the old fluorescent light tubes overhead could be heard crackling.

In front of the mirror wall, Professor Xu was redesigning the movements for Chekhov's "The Seagull". The circle of more than a dozen students suddenly burst into applause - the girl in the white dress had just finished reading Nina's famous monologue.

"Stop." Professor Xu suddenly tapped the floor with the script. "The emotional intensity is enough, but your eyes are looking for the camera."

The girl blinked blankly.

"Drama is not a close-up in a movie or TV show. Your pain should fill the entire theater." When the old man turned around and saw Zhen Yan standing in the shadows, his cloudy eyes suddenly lit up. "It's just right. Let your senior sister demonstrate the farewell scene in the fourth act."

As Zhen Yan knelt in front of the prop bench soaked in moonlight, she suddenly remembered the avant-garde drama she had rehearsed by the Suzhou River in late autumn last year.

At that time, she was wearing a costume swollen by rain and screaming Nina's lines into the freighter's whistle until her throat tasted bloody.

"You brought Nina back to life." Professor Xu whispered as she finished the last sentence.

Thunderous applause broke out at the scene. Zhen Yan came to her senses, stood up, bowed to the audience, turned around and walked off the stage, and waited until Professor Xu finished the class before walking forward.

"Professor Xu..."

Professor Xu interrupted her, "I know what you are going to say, just do what you want to do and don't worry about anything else."

Zhen Yan was stunned for a moment, "How do you know?"

"Your eyes told me that eyes can speak."

When Zhen Yan walked into the rehearsal room, her eyes were filled with confusion, confusion about herself and confusion about the future.

Professor Xu smiled and patted her shoulder gently. "Come on, I believe you will succeed."

After she left, Zhen Yan took a deep breath and turned to leave.

On the way back, Zheng Qian received a notice from Director Wang's assistant.

It says "Female No. 2 Shen Bingqing" followed by three eye-catching alternative names, and the last one in brackets says "recommended by the investor."

"The final round of auditions will be at 10 a.m. tomorrow." Zheng Qian looked at Zhen Yan, "I just heard that Lin Ruoxuan took Mr. Zhou to Director Wang's studio."

As the nanny car passed through the tunnel under the river, Zhen Yan rested her forehead against the cold glass window.

The lights in the tunnel formed a flowing galaxy in the darkness, and her expression gradually became empty.

The next day, they arrived at the set two hours early, only to find that Lin Ruoxuan's RV had already been parked in the VIP parking space.

A row of haute couture clothes of the season are hung in the dressing room, and a makeup artist is applying the third layer of concealer on the face of a newlywed - it is said that this is an internet celebrity who was inserted by a certain video platform.

"Director Wang has temporarily changed the audition format." The executive producer shouted over the loudspeaker, "All candidates are waiting in the lobby. Enter the performance cabin in order according to your numbers."

When Zhen Yan's canvas bag hit the metal detection door, the book "An Actor's Self-cultivation" fell to the ground with a bang.

She bent down to pick it up, but heard the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5 above her head.

"What a coincidence, Miss Zhen." Lin Ruoxuan's diamond bracelet brushed against the back of her hand. "I heard that the final review will record a reaction shot. You'd better..." She suddenly lowered her voice, "cover the scar on your neck more carefully."

The performance cabin is a hexagonal space for holographic projection.

The moment Zhen Yan stepped into the cabin, the surrounding walls suddenly turned into an unfinished building in the rain. This was the highlight of Shen Bingqing discovering her lover's betrayal.

She instinctively reached for her ring finger—there should have been a prop ring there, but what the stagehand handed her was a real utility knife.

"Start!" the command came from the headset.