Switched Life:I Went Viral on a Family Variety Show
Chapter 208: Audition PK Battle for the Role

Chapter 208: Chapter 208: Audition PK Battle for the Role

Others kept calling him a eunuch, but the way Wen Jiu said "Jiuqiansui" sounded far more pleasing to the ear.

"Teacher Wen Jiu, I want to play this role," Qingyue, who had been silently reading the script, suddenly said.

Qingyue was confident that Wen Jiu would assign him this role. After all, she had already attended Duan Wenhu’s party yesterday and knew exactly whom to favor and whom to ignore.

"You?" Wen Jiu cast Qingyue a sidelong glance, the contempt in her eyes fleeting but unmistakable.

Sang Ning had been watching Wen Jiu intently. She caught the subtle shift in Wen Jiu’s expression and found it surprising.

How could someone as amicable and easygoing as Wen Jiu display such a hostile look toward Qingyue?

At that moment, the screenwriter leaned in and whispered something quietly to Wen Jiu.

Despite Wen Jiu’s unfriendly gaze, Qingyue still believed this role was in the bag for him.

After the screenwriter finished speaking to Wen Jiu, Qingyue pressed his lips together, watching Wen Jiu nervously yet excitedly. "Teacher Wen Jiu, am I okay for it?"

Looking at Qingyue, Wen Jiu’s eyes lost their warmth, but her graceful, slow shake of the head remained elegant. "No, I agree with the screenwriter. Your appearance doesn’t fit the role."

"Why?" Qingyue flared up but tried to control his volume as he argued with Wen Jiu. "A good actor shouldn’t be constrained by looks. As long as they have the skill, they can bring any role to life!"

"And yet even you admitted there needs to be sufficient skill. So tell me, what gives you the confidence to prove you have that skill?" Wen Jiu gently delivered what was essentially a dagger to the heart with her soft tone.

Qingyue froze on the spot. When it came to acting, he was no more than a dabbler, without even a respectable piece of work to his name. How could he even begin to talk about ’skill’?

But so what? Even skill has to bow to capital, doesn’t it?

Taking advantage of Qingyue’s momentary daze, Wen Jiu swept her gaze across everyone. "Do you really have no clue why you’re assigned to this group? When you lack the ability to take on leading roles, then every performance must prioritize presenting the most polished stage effect."

Wen Jiu’s words weren’t aimed at anyone specifically. This was her genuine belief and a necessary reminder for the group.

However, Qingyue didn’t see it that way. To him, Wen Jiu was deliberately humiliating him.

When Wen Jiu and Sang Ning locked eyes, Sang Ning winked at her.

Wen Jiu’s stern face almost cracked. How could she not catch the meaning behind Sang Ning’s look?

Criticize all you want, but spare the collateral damage.

Wen Jiu’s lips curved faintly into a smile as she gently shook her head at Sang Ning, her meaning clear: I’m not insulting you.

"Since Qingyue is so eager to play this role, why don’t we do a script audition and compete for it?" Sang Ning suggested, turning to Wen Jiu.

Sang Ning felt that playing a male role posed enough challenges, but being cast as someone who’s neither fully male nor female threw her into nightmare mode.

Since the screenwriter and Wen Jiu believed her capable of portraying Jiuqiansui, she might as well give it a shot.

If Qingyue wanted it too, then they could compete, and the winner would get the role. It was the fairest approach.

Sang Ning hated the idea of people thinking she had been simply handed the role by Wen Jiu and the screenwriter.

"Fine, I accept the audition challenge!" Qingyue declared loudly.

To Qingyue, Sang Ning was nothing special. He’d seen clips of her acting before, and calling them humiliating would be putting it lightly!

Wen Jiu exchanged a look with the screenwriter, who nodded in agreement.

"Alright, you can each choose a scene from the script and perform it. The decision will be made based on votes from your team members," Wen Jiu said, eager to see whether Sang Ning could deliver a fresh take on the role.

Confident in his abilities, Qingyue raised his hand to go first. He chose the scene where Jiuqiansui meets his end, bidding farewell to his beloved.

Jiuqiansui’s beloved was a palace maid who had entered the palace with him. Though she was kind-hearted and cared for him deeply, she became the sole light in his dark and ruthless life.

Throughout his life, he was merciless, but his only tenderness was reserved for this palace maid. Even in his final moments, his only regret was being unable to protect her.

The palace maid’s name was Qiuqiu. Qingyue picked Wang Qiuhong to play opposite him. Their scene began with Jiuqiansui collapsing after being shot by the General’s arrow.

"Urgh—!" Qingyue overdramatized his agony, producing a sound almost identical to someone burping.

Everyone struggled to suppress their laughter. Even Wang Qiuhong, his partner in the scene, nearly broke character.

But Qingyue himself saw no issue and remained entirely absorbed in his performance. With a pained groan, he collapsed to the ground.

"Xiao Kangzi!" Wang Qiuhong yelled, rushing over to cradle Qingyue.

That was the name Jiuqiansui was given when he first entered the palace. As his power grew, only the Emperor and Qiuqiu dared to call him by it anymore.

In Wang Qiuhong’s arms, Qingyue spluttered, releasing a copious amount of fake blood before looking up with tears streaming down his face.

Sang Ning clicked her tongue in amusement. While Qingyue’s performance was over-the-top, his ability to cry on command did earn her respect.

Qingyue raised a trembling hand to touch Wang Qiuhong’s face, his lips quivering multiple times before he spoke: "Qiuqiu, forgive me. From now on, I can no longer protect you."

"Xiao Kangzi, hang in there! You’re going to be okay!"

Wang Qiuhong was already bawling, pressing Qingyue’s hand to her face, as if the warmth from his palm was her only comfort.

"Urgh—Urgh—" Qingyue unleashed another series of exaggerated blood spurts.

Wang Qiuhong nearly dropped Qingyue to the floor as her hand trembled uncontrollably.

A performer’s partner often relies heavily on their co-actor’s emotional state. Clenching her jaw, Wang Qiuhong barely managed to contain her laughter and stay in character, as Qingyue’s acting was simply... indescribable.

"No, Qiuqiu... It’s already too late for me..." Qingyue became visibly weaker, his voice barely audible. "My biggest regret is not getting you out of the palace sooner. I should have found a husband for you during my peak power, someone who could give you a happy and peaceful life."

"What a pity—" Qingyue turned his gaze to the sky, clutching his chest dramatically. "What a pity there’s no medicine for regret. It’s all too late now—"

With those final words, Qingyue shut his eyes in unwilling grief and remorse, his hand suddenly dropping, signifying his end.

Wang Qiuhong was supposed to cry over his lifeless body, but Qingyue’s performance was so unconvincing that she struggled to feel any genuine sorrow. In the end, she skipped that part entirely, propped Qingyue into a sitting position, and stood up herself.

Noticing Wang Qiuhong had moved away, Qingyue also stood, looking eagerly at Wen Jiu and the screenwriter. "Teachers, what do you think of my performance?"

The screenwriter bit down hard on her lip, suppressing the urge to say Qingyue’s acting had been nothing short of a mental assault.

At a loss for words and growing anxious, the screenwriter gave way to Wen Jiu, who spoke up first. "Sangsang, it’s your turn. Perform the same scene he just did."