I became a movie star at the age of three; Dilraba and I are childhood sweethearts.

It's like a stone forcibly stuffed into an exquisite jewelry box, out of place, yet incredibly hard.

This character is named Cuiping.

He also thought of Li Ya, that fanatical and insane opponent who regarded the interests of the Party and the state as his highest belief.

I thought of Lu Qiaoshan, I thought of Xie Ruolin...

Each character is vivid and three-dimensional, together forming a complex and unpredictable spy war drama.

Xiao Chen suddenly opened his eyes, and deep within them burned the flame of creation.

He immediately sat up straight and took out his laptop from his bag.

Wang Jinhua, who was sitting next to him, had just finished making a phone call. When she turned her head, she saw Xiao Chen looking like this.

She paused for a moment, then understood.

She was all too familiar with that look in her eyes.

Every time Xiao Chen showed that focused look in his eyes.

This means that a work that will once again shake the entire industry is about to be born.

She didn't say anything to disturb him, but silently gestured to the driver in the front seat, signaling him to drive more steadily.

Inside the carriage, only the rapid tapping of keyboards could be heard.

Xiao Chen's fingers danced across the keyboard, and lines of text quickly appeared on the screen.

[Title of the TV series: Lurking]

[Synopsis: In 1945, on the eve of Japan's surrender, Yu Zecheng, a Kuomintang intelligence agent, undergoes a profound transformation after witnessing the murder of his compatriots and learning the true identity of his fiancée, Zuo Lan...]

He was completely absorbed in his own world.

The light and shadow outside the car window swept across his handsome profile, casting a light shadow on his thick, long eyelashes.

At this moment, he shed his superstar aura.

More like a devout creator, he is using words to build a brand new, breathtaking world.

……

The headquarters of Shishiba Culture occupies the top three floors of Beijing's CBD.

Wang Jinhua's office boasts a huge floor-to-ceiling window, offering a panoramic view of most of Beijing's bustling cityscape.

However, at this moment, the most eye-catching thing in the office is not the bustling traffic outside the window.

Instead, it was the boy sitting on the sofa, so focused that he seemed to be isolated from the world.

A laptop sat in front of Xiao Chen, his long, slender, fair fingers flying across the keyboard, leaving a trail of afterimages.

The crisp, rhythmic tapping sound, like rapid drumbeats, echoed densely in the excessively quiet space.

When Wang Jinhua pushed open the door, this was the scene she saw.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on his body.

The boy lowered his head slightly, his profile so handsome that he resembled a god from ancient Greek mythology, flawless and perfect.

Even after seeing this face for over a decade, Wang Jinhua still feels amazed at certain moments.

She walked quietly, her high heels making no sound on the soft carpet.

She had just finished dealing with a tricky artist contract dispute.

I received three more international long-distance calls, and I was in a state of high excitement.

But the moment she stepped into the room and saw Xiao Chen, her heart, which had been pounding rapidly because of work, miraculously calmed down.

This boy possesses a natural, strange, and soothing power.

Just then.

"clatter."

As the last syllable fell, Xiao Chen's finger stopped on the Enter key.

Almost at the same second, Wang Jinhua also hung up the phone, her face filled with barely suppressed joy and excitement.

"Xiao Chen, I need to talk to you!"

"Aunt Hua, I also have something to tell you."

The two spoke at the same time, then looked at each other and smiled.

The extreme silence in the air was broken, and a kind of intimate understanding flowed through it.

Wang Jinhua sat down opposite him, habitually picked up the coffee on the table, took a sip, and then smiled and said.

"You go first."

Xiao Chen didn't stand on ceremony; he simply turned the laptop around so that the screen was facing Wang Jinhua.

On the screen is the script that has just been completed.

Two large, bold characters, seemingly carrying an invisible sense of oppression, were the first thing that caught Wang Jinhua's eye.

[Infiltration]

Wang Jinhua was stunned for a moment.

As one of the top agents in the country, she has handled at least eight hundred, if not a thousand, scripts.

Just by looking at the title, she can roughly judge the type and commercial potential of the script.

Espionage?

This subject matter is not easy to film.

It's too righteous; young people won't like to watch it.

If it's too remote, it's likely to fail the review.

However, she did not immediately express her opinion because the script was written by Xiao Chen.

The name itself represents a miracle.

Her gaze continued downwards, sweeping over the story outline.

In just a few hundred words, a treacherous and deadly world of imposters slowly unfolded before her eyes.

Wang Jinhua's expression visibly changed from serious to deeply shocked.

She saw Yu Zecheng struggling between faith and emotion.

I witnessed Cuiping's unconventional yet incredibly resilient vitality.

I witnessed Li Ya's moth-to-a-flame obsession and madness...

Every character is so vivid, as if they could step off the page at any moment.

Silence fell over the office once again.

After a long while, Wang Jinhua slowly exhaled, looking at Xiao Chen with a complicated expression.

"Another... story that could be deified."

Her voice trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly.

Wang Jinhua asked the most crucial question.

"Who are you planning to cast in the role?"

The role of Yu Zecheng is too heavy.

He is reserved and profound, dancing on the edge of a knife and walking on the edge of a cliff.

Without sufficient life experience and maturity, one simply cannot sustain it.

Several names of talented middle-aged male actors in China flashed through her mind, but she rejected them one by one.

They are skilled actors, but they all seem to lack the complex temperament of Yu Zecheng, who possesses both the elegance of an intellectual and the ruthlessness of a covert agent.

Xiao Chen raised his eyes, his dark pupils reflecting the light from the screen, and calmly uttered two words.

"I'll do it."

Wang Jinhua thought she had misheard, and she even picked at her ears.

"What?"

"You said...you'd play Yu Zecheng?"

She looked at Xiao Chen's face, which was excessively young and still carried the air of a youthful handsomeness, and felt a little absurd.

"Xiao Chen, you must be joking."

"The character Yu Zecheng in the script is already in his thirties when he appears on screen. He has experienced war, witnessed life and death, and his thinking has undergone a huge transformation."

"You're only eighteen years old!"

This isn't because she doesn't believe in Xiao Chen's acting skills.

After all, he is the youngest Oscar-winning actor in the Chinese film industry and is a recognized genius.

But some things cannot be fully compensated for by acting skills.

Those are the marks that time leaves on a person.

An 18-year-old boy is to play the role of a seasoned agent struggling to survive amidst disguise, deception, and death threats.

That's too risky!