Yuran spoke with a serious face, a natural charm accompanying her stern expression.
Duan Chen also felt that this girl was acceptable.
Zhou Lianjia and Zu Shiting, after hearing Yuran’s words, realized what was expected of them, they were to watch each other’s performance in presence without overlap, ensuring a unique personal style, or else face elimination.
Hearing Xuan Ze’s praise, the implication was more or less the same.
Both of their hearts suddenly leapt, filled with nervousness.
Such a way of auditioning was something they had never experienced before, and seeing how Yuran appeared not to be nervous at all, they couldn’t help but wonder, did she know something?
As soon as this thought occurred to them, they dismissed it.
"Now, let’s begin!" Xuan Ze stared at the three of them and said.
The lights dimmed, leaving only the stage illuminated; in the darkness, Xuan Ze’s voice carried through, "I advocate improvisation, as it is a basic quality of an actor. You all have the script; choose a section to perform."
"Understood," Yuran said. "I’ll take Scene 389."
"Scene 389?" Xuan Ze’s pupils shrank suddenly, his fingers stiffened on the table, and he looked at Yuran with surprise. He did not expect Yuran to choose this scene.
Austin was equally surprised, uncertainly flipping through the script, and expressed slight astonishment, "Tang, this scene..."
"It’s difficult," Xuan Ze evaluated.
Duan Chen’s interest piqued, and he broke into a smile, "Admirable courage, this girl. To audition this scene in such circumstances adds to the difficulty. What is she thinking? Does she really have that much confidence?"
Yuran’s performance began the moment she stepped onto the stage. Ready from the very start, she stood beneath the stage; almost in the instant when the lights crossed, her whole demeanor took an 180-degree turn.
The Yuran from before was agreeable, modest, but the Yuran of the moment, her entire being was enveloped in the elegant sorrow of Mo Yue’s passing. Every step was heavy yet resolute. She looked straight ahead with her gaze, but it seemed more like she was looking at a specific person.
Her face wore a faint smile, but her eyes reddened, her expression managing to blend both joy and sorrow so movingly and impeccably.
Xuan Ze’s pupils constricted sharply, almost losing control and standing up.
Austin shifted from a laid-back posture to sitting upright, his spine straight.
She walked up to the award ceremony’s microphone, smiling like a well-bred young lady from a good family, every inch and stitch was flawless, strictly within the bounds of decorum.
Her voice was choked with subtle sobs, but still, one could feel the trembling of her fingers on the microphone, her gaze fixed and determined as she looked at the audience, beginning her speech.
"I’ve often wondered, when I receive this award, if I would celebrate with him and tell him that I’m ready.
But today, as I receive this award, I no longer have the chance to say those words. Thank you all for your recognition, but now...
...it no longer means anything to me..."
This speech created confusion among the audience, except for the few who knew the truth. She walked off the stage with steps that were equally graceful.
The scene went black, transitioning to a new one.
The stage was set with a new prop, a hospital bed, next to which sat vividly bleeding roses, each petal crying tears of red.
Yuran stood erect in front of the hospital bed, her hand resting on the roses, plucking a petal, her eyes fixed on the white cloth from head to toe. She smiled softly, the smile in stark contrast to the sorrowful emptiness in her eyes, creating an oppressive tension that left one breathless.
"Xuan Che, won’t you... wait for me?"