Huayu: Starting with Xiang Yu, the Hegemon of Western Chu

The audition was held at a film and television base in western Beijing.

The base is old, built in the 1990s, with red brick exterior walls and a musty smell in the corridor.

Luo Yifeng's two most recent films are being prepared here.

He has his own fixed room, the innermost one on the second floor. There is an A4 sheet of paper pasted on the wooden door with the words "Do not disturb unless necessary" written on it. He wrote the words himself.

That piece of paper has been up for more than three months.

The four corners of the paper are curled up a bit.

Day .

2:45 PM.

Chen Mo appeared at the entrance of the base.

He was dressed in very ordinary clothes: a dark gray Chinese-style stand-up collar shirt, black trousers, and a pair of very old black cloth shoes.

My hair got cut short.

His beard was shaved clean.

His face was expressionless.

The security guard standing at the door looked up at him and paused for two seconds.

"Who should I look for?"

"Zhu Zhanji audition."

The security guard looked down at the register, turned a page, and stopped halfway through.

He glanced at Chen Mo, then at that column in the register.

That column reads:

"Chen Mo, Zhu Zhanji's audition candidate, 2:50-3:10 PM, second floor, room 201."

The security guard looked up.

"You're Chen Mo?"

"Um."

The security guard paused for two seconds.

He had seen "The Legend of Chu and Han" and remembered Xiang Yu's face.

He was rugged and sharp, with brow bones and cheekbones that looked as if they had been carved with a knife, and eyes that looked like they wanted to devour someone.

The person in front of me.

It's not Xiang Yu.

It is not a shadow of Xiang Yu.

It's someone else.

The security guard didn't ask any more questions. He pushed the register over, and Chen Mo signed it.

After signing, the security guard seemed to want to say something, but didn't; he just pointed to the stairs.

"Second floor, go all the way to the end."

"Thanks."

Chen Mo walked towards the stairwell.

The security guard stood behind him for a while, then suddenly pulled out his phone from the drawer, opened his blog, and searched for the words "Chen Mo".

He wanted to confirm something.

He wanted to confirm whether the person who had just walked past him was the same person as the poster of Xiang Yu on the blog.

After searching, he stared at his phone for a long time.

Then he put down his phone and muttered something.

"Awesome pen."

There were already people in the second-floor corridor.

Four people, sitting in pairs.

The two on the left are men, and the two on the right are also men.

She was dressed quite elegantly.

Some were wearing white shirts with vests, some were wearing navy blue suits, and one even had his hair styled; the smell of hairspray could be smelled from two meters away.

Chen Mo didn't recognize these people.

But they knew Chen Mo.

As soon as Chen Mo stepped onto the stairs, four pairs of eyes turned to him simultaneously.

One of them, the one who was posing, visibly stiffened his expression for a moment.

He glanced down at the script he was holding, then looked up to confirm Chen Mo's face.

Then he slowly stepped aside.

The action of stepping aside was subconscious; he didn't even realize it himself.

The other three candidates also shifted their bodies slightly to make way for the middle of the corridor.

Chen Mo walked past them without looking at anyone.

As he reached the end, he heard a soft murmur behind him.

"...Why is he here too?"

Chen Mo did not turn around.

None of the four people behind him responded to that comment.

The corridor fell silent.

All four of them were doing the same thing: secretly watching Chen Mo's back.

One of them had already mentally prepared himself to tell his agent, "Forget it, this role isn't for me," no matter how well he performed after the audition.

The door to room 201 was closed.

A sheet of A4 paper was pasted on the door, which read "Zhu Zhanji Audition".

Chen Mo stood at the door for a moment.

Then he raised his hand and tapped twice.

"Please come in."

A hoarse voice came from the room.

Chen Mo pushed open the door and went in.

The room wasn't big, just over 20 square meters, with a long table in the middle and three people sitting on one side of the table.

The one in the middle is Luo Yifeng.

This was the first time Chen Mo had met him.

Luo Yifeng was thinner than Chen Mo had imagined.

His hair was gray, his skin was a little dry, and there were two dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing a very old gray sweater with the collar already pilling.

The man sitting to his left was a man in his early forties, probably the assistant director.

A woman, around thirty years old, was sitting to his right, with a laptop in front of her.

All three of them looked up at Chen Mo.

Luo Yifeng looked at him for two seconds.

Then he did something the assistant director had never seen him do before: he stood up.

Luo Yifeng is someone who never stands up during auditions.

He followed Luo Yifeng for over a decade and watched hundreds of auditions.

When a candidate enters, Luo Yifeng always sits down, raises his chin, and says, "Let's begin."

He didn't even look into the candidates' eyes; he looked at the audition footage the candidates brought with them.

He stood up today.

It wasn't enthusiasm; it was an unconscious action.

It's like a person walking on a mountain road who suddenly sees a wild beast he has never seen before standing opposite him; he would instinctively stand up straight.

Luo Yifeng reached out his hand.

"Chen Mo."

"Director Luo."

The two shook hands briefly.

When Chen Mo's hand left, Luo Yifeng suddenly paused for a moment.

When he shook hands, he felt that Chen Mo's palm was cold.

It's strange that the audition candidates' palms were mostly warm and damp when they shook hands, because they were nervous.

The palms of the person in front of him were cold and dry.

Like someone who has just taken a shower, gotten dressed, and is about to sit down and read.

He doesn't look like someone who's about to audition.

Luo Yifeng sat back down.

"Have you read the script?"

"I've seen it."

"How many times did you watch it?"

Four times.

The assistant director flipped through the list in his hand.

"We've prepared two segments: episode eighteen, where the King of Han is captured, and episode twenty-seven, where the Empress is deposed. Which one do you choose?"

Chen Mo did not answer immediately.

He glanced at the script on the table.

Then he said something that no one expected.

"I'm fine with either one, but I'd like to add a scene that's not in the script first."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Luo Yifeng raised an eyebrow.

"Not in the script?"

"Um."

Which section?

"This is the first time Zhu Zhanji has witnessed Zhu Di killing someone."

Luo Yifeng leaned forward slightly.

The assistant director stopped flipping through the script.

The assistant director was familiar with the character Zhu Zhanji.

He spent four months studying the script, and he could recite every scene from every episode. He knew very well that this scene was not in the script.

The script was started on the eve of Zhu Zhanji's ascension to the throne at the age of twenty-two.

The earlier years of adolescence are covered in just a two-minute credits roll and a few flashbacks.

The scene where Zhu Zhanji first witnesses Zhu Di killing someone is not included.

"This scene wasn't in the script," the assistant director said.

"I know," Chen Mo said, "but it's about this character."

The assistant director frowned.

In his eyes, Chen Mo had become a bit arrogant because he won the Huabiao Newcomer Award, and he planned to teach him a lesson.

Luo Yifeng raised his hand to signal the assistant director to be quiet.

"Tell me about it," Luo Yifeng said.

Chen Mo took a step toward the long table.

"When Zhu Zhanji was thirteen years old, Zhu Di launched the Jingnan Campaign."

"From Beiping to Nanjing, countless people died along the way. Zhu Di was a ruthless man. He killed the entire Jianwen Emperor's faction, including Tie Xuan, Fang Xiaoru, and Lian Zining. Fang Xiaoru executed ten generations of his family, totaling 873 people, without leaving a single one alive."

"The historical records do not mention whether Zhu Zhanji was present, but judging from the timeline, Zhu Zhanji was thirteen years old at that time. He was Zhu Di's most beloved grandson. After Zhu Di entered Nanjing, he took Zhu Zhanji with him to stabilize the capital."

"Zhu Zhanji was in Nanjing those days, and it is very likely that he witnessed Zhu Di killing people."

"Or you've seen the body."

"Or at least, I saw the people kneeling by the roadside on the road where Fang Xiaoru was being led to the execution ground."

Chen Mo paused for a moment.

"I want to act out that moment."

Luo Yifeng looked at him.

"How are you going to act?"

"I want to act..."

Chen Mo thought for a moment about how to phrase it.

"I want to act out his smile."

The air in the room paused for half a second.

Luo Yifeng remained silent.

The assistant director didn't say anything either.

The female staff member who was typing had her fingers hovering above the keyboard, but she didn't press any keys.

Luo Yifeng looked at Chen Mo.

"You laughed?"

"Um."

"He laughed when he saw his grandfather commit murder in the street?"

"Um."

Luo Yifeng remained silent for a long time.

He certainly knew what Chen Mo meant.

He's been acting for thirty years; he understands.

When he saw his most beloved grandfather, the gentle grandfather who would hold him on his knees, turn around and kill all 873 people.

He will realize something.

He will realize that the gentlest person in the world can also be the cruelest.

Gentleness and cruelty are not opposites; they are two sides of the same coin.

He won't cry, scream, or run away.

He will laugh.

That smile wasn't a happy smile.

That smile was a "I understand" smile.

Luo Yifeng looked at Chen Mo.

He understood.

But he wanted to give this young man another try.

"How can you be sure Zhu Zhanji was that type?"

Chen Mo did not answer immediately.

He took a piece of paper out of his pocket.

A blank sheet of paper, A4 size, folded in half. It looks like it was taken out of a book.

He pushed the paper to the middle of the table.

Luo Yifeng glanced at it.

There were four lines of text written on the paper.

"Laughing?"

"Were you smiling when you were grilling Uncle?"

"Were you smiling when you deposed the empress?"

"Are you smiling while fighting crickets?"

Luo Yifeng looked at these four lines of text.

I watched it for about ten seconds.

The assistant director peeked over and took a look.

The female staff member also glanced at it.

"The three most famous things Zhu Zhanji did in his life," Chen Mo said, "roasting his uncle, deposing the empress, and cricket fighting. Each of these things, taken individually, is not something a wise ruler should do, but he was still a wise ruler during the reign of Renxuan."

"These three things must have a common starting point."

"This entrance leads to that smile."

"If he only learned to laugh after he ascended the throne at the age of eighteen, then there wouldn't be enough time; a ten-year reign as emperor couldn't contain so much."

Luo Yifeng stared at the paper.

He slowly extended his hand, pressing his index finger against a corner of the paper.

He didn't pick it up.

He simply pressed his index finger lightly on the paper.

The room was very quiet.

Luo Yifeng raised his head.

"play."