---
The rest of the auditions moved quickly after Liang Qianyu's part.
The assistant director called in each actress and actor one after another, flipping through names with a polite but rushed smile.
The investors leaned back in their seats, crossing their legs, their expressions a mix of boredom and sharp calculation.
Gu Yanchuan, however, sat unnaturally still.
His brows suddenly twitched.
It was such a small, almost imperceptible movement, but to him, it felt like an invisible thread had just pulled taut inside his chest.
A sense of restlessness began to gnaw at him, as if an unseen shadow was creeping closer.
At first, he tried to brush it off.
Maybe it was just fatigue. Maybe he'd been sitting too long.
But with each passing minute, the unease grew sharper, until the voices around him began to blur.
He didn't hear the next actor's introduction.
He didn't catch the lines she was reading.
—
One of the investors beside him frowned and leaned slightly forward, noticing his blank stare.
"What's wrong with Director Gu today?" he murmured to another investor. "He hasn't given feedback in five auditions."
Another whispered, "Is he... zoning out?"
Another whispered, "Is he unwell? Or is he just being arrogant now that his name guarantees box office success?"
The actress on stage hesitated, biting her lip.
Her hands trembled slightly as she realized no one was commenting.
No suggestions. No critiques. Nothing.
Embarrassment heated her cheeks as silence stretched painfully.
"Ahem," one of the investors cleared his throat.
Still nothing.
A bold investor, Mr. Zhou, who had invested a heavy chunk into the project, raised his arm and nudged Gu Yanchuan firmly on the shoulder.
The director flinched, almost leaping out of his chair.
All heads turned toward him.
The actress on stage blinked, flustered.
Gu Yanchuan's eyes widened when he realized every pair of eyes in the room were locked onto him.
"…Ah…" he began, then forced a smile. "Sorry, I think I'm a little tired. How about we take a short break?"
"Break?" the same investor repeated, brows furrowed. "We're halfway through casting, Director Gu. Are you alright?"
"I'm just a little tired," Gu Yanchuan replied with a tight smile, though his voice lacked conviction.
—
He forced another half-smile, but even the assistant beside him could tell something was off.
The room murmured in agreement, albeit with lingering suspicion.
A few investors stood, stretching their legs, but their narrowed eyes never left him.
They were not pleased.
This was the great Gu Yanchuan—the award-winning director whose dramas had broken records and topped streaming platforms for weeks. A single Gu Yanchuan film could reel in over a billion yuan.
Most of them were only willing to comply because of Gu Yanchuan's sterling track record.
His last five productions had all shattered records, becoming instant sensations in both domestic and overseas markets. Investors made millions off him.
That was why they were tolerating this.
But still—
That didn't mean he could be careless.
"Hah, if it wasn't for his track record, I would've walked out just now," one investor whispered.
"Too arrogant. Just because he's the best director doesn't mean he can treat us like side characters," another muttered.
"We're investing money here. Serious money. He better get his act together."
"This is unprofessional," one muttered under his breath.
"Does he think we're here to cater to his mood swings?" said another.
"We're investing millions. If he wants to act like a prima donna, we can pull funding anytime."
_
Gu Yanchuan ignored the murmurs, quickly excusing himself and exiting the hall through a side corridor.
His hands were clammy.
He hadn't felt this kind of dread in years—not even when his career had nearly been ruined by competitors during his rookie days.
He pushed into the nearest men's bathroom and locked the door.
His reflection in the mirror stared back at him—drawn, pale, and drenched in cold sweat.
He yanked out his phone with trembling fingers and called Fang Zemin. It rang only twice.
"Hello—"
"What the hell is going on?" Gu Yanchuan barked. "Did you resolve the Xu Jiaqi issue? Have you completely lost your mind?!"
—
Fang Zemin fell silent on the other end.
In his luxurious office at Starlight Entertainment, he stared blankly at the wall.
The room around him was deathly quiet.
Xu Jiaqi had refused to show up.
He'd waited for her for days.
When he called her manager Huang Qiming earlier, the reply had been maddening.
"She says she wants to terminate the contract. She's done. I don't think she'll come. Why don't we think... "
Done? Just like that?
That was a blow Fang Zemin hadn't expected.
With the public still in a frenzy over the CCTV footage and rumors swirling around Yan Qingsi, Jiang Xueyi, and Lin Weichen—Fang Zemin had been barely holding things together.
Stock prices were plunging. Shareholders were demanding answers.
Journalists suddenly camped outside their headquarters like vultures.
Everything was on fire.
And now, Gu Yanchuan was on the phone shouting at him like he wasn't already sinking.
—
"What do you want me to do, Gu?!" he finally snapped. "Kidnap her?! Silence her?"
He paused. Then his eyes widened.
That... actually wasn't a bad idea.
Kidnap Xu Jiaqi. Threaten her to testify that what happened with Yan Qingsi had nothing to do with him. Once that was cleared, he'd clean up Jiang Xueyi and Lin Weichen's mess too.
And just like that, the scandals would vanish.
He chuckled.
Then he laughed.
And kept laughing.
"Hahaha—hahaha—hahaha!!!"
"HAHAHA!!!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!"
A long, hollow, maniacal laugh.
—
Gu Yanchuan blinked.
That sound sent a chill down his spine.
Was he... laughing?!?!?
Why was he laughing?...
"Zemin?" he called carefully. "What the hell are you thinking?"
But Fang Zemin continued chuckling, the laughter deepening.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!"
The sound echoed through the receiver like the laughter of a man who had stared into the abyss… and jumped.
"…What the hell…"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"
He laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed, like a madman.
"FANG ZEMIN!! Are you INSANE?!" Gu Yanchuan barked. "This isn't a drama! You've lost your mind!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—!"
"Fang Zemin? Fang Zemin!" he shouted. "What's wrong with you?!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Click.
The call ended.
Gu Yanchuan stood there, phone to his ear, confused.
What the...
Had the stress broken him?
—
He quickly dialed another number. Su Xiao.
The line rang once, then clicked.
"What?!" Su Xiao snapped. "What now?!"
"Fang Zemin—" Gu Yanchuan began.
"I swear I will kill that bastard!" Su Xiao roared. "He's dragged me into this whole mess. That damn CCTV footage went viral, and now..."
Click.
The line went dead again.
Gu Yanchuan was speechless.
What was going on?
Why were they all... losing it?
He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Pale. Sweaty. Eyes hollow.
He touched his chest.
His heart was beating too fast.
This wasn't just stress.
This was dread.
What was this ominous feeling? Why did he feel like something terrible was going to happen?
Was it still because of Yan Qingsi?
—
He walked back out, but instead of returning to the audition hall, he paused near the seating area.
He looked around, spotting his assistant chatting near the corner.
"Come here," he said firmly.
The assistant approached quickly.
Gu Yanchuan lowered his voice. "Tell the investors and all the actors that today's auditions are postponed. We'll resume tomorrow."
The assistant looked shocked. "Director Gu... are you—?"
Gu Yanchuan cut him off. "Just do it."
The steel in his voice silenced further protest.
Without waiting, he turned and walked toward the exit.
The assistant was left standing there, completely thrown off.
What just happened?
—
Still stunned, the assistant did as told. He found the manager of one of the actresses and informed him of the sudden change.
The news spread quickly.
Inside the hall, the investors were in the middle of a conversation when they were interrupted.
"Auditions are postponed until tomorrow. Director Gu said so," the assistant said quietly.
The room fell silent for a moment before the complaints erupted.
One investor sneered, "Is he treating us like amateurs? We blocked our schedules for this."
Another scoffed, "Does he think just because his movies sell, he can do whatever he wants?"
"We're the ones investing millions. He should at least show some respect."
"Maybe we should pull out. Let him direct the film with his own money," someone else grumbled.
There was grumbling all around.
But at the end of the day, there was nothing they could do.
It was Gu Yanchuan.
The man who created cinematic magic.
Gu Yanchuan was the genius director. And geniuses were allowed to be eccentric — as long as they delivered.
They might be angry, but they wouldn't walk.
They stood, adjusted their suits, and began to leave one by one.
The assistant stood awkwardly near the doorway, watching them all pass.
None of this made sense.
Where did Director Gu go?
Why did he seem so... disturbed?
His instincts told him something big was about to happen.
---