Chapter 12.1 – Stage in the Wheat Field
Lu Tinghan said so, Shi Yuan thought he was really not good at acting, at least not for villain roles.
But the troupe hired him, and he still understood the principle of “getting paid to do things”, so he continued to study the script and thought about how to become more vicious.
It was 12 o’clock, and the script was turned over for a short time and a half. Shi Yuan didn’t hold on and fell asleep on the script with his head down.
Lu Tinghan raised his eyes by chance and saw the young man with black hair and short devil horns. There were a few black scales at the end of Shi Yuan’s right eye, and his skin was delicate ivory white. The contrast was so strong, the black was deep and the white was striking.
That sense of familiarity rushed to his heart again. Like a reunion with an old friend – it’s just that his “old friend” was a bit strange and silly. He would purr when he was happy and knot his tail when he was afraid.
Such a person, whether in terms of appearance or character, would never be forgotten after seeing him. But Lu Tinghan had no impression of Shi Yuan. When he first saw him, his instinctive suspicion and nostalgic emotions were intertwined, and they have never subsided until now.
‘Where have I seen you before?’ he thought.
The pen in his hand paused for a moment, and then continued writing.
When Shi Yuan was finally called up by Lu Tinghan, it was almost 1 o’clock.
He fell asleep in a daze, and with a red mark on his forehead from the pressure, he followed Lu Tinghan out of the study.
Lu Tinghan said, “Good night.”
Shi Yuan rubbed his forehead and said, “Good night.”
He was still wearing the cypress costume. After walking a few steps, he didn’t hear Lu Tinghan’s footsteps. He looked back and saw the man still standing at the door – he was standing against the light, and his face was shrouded in shadow, but his eyes were fixed on Shi Yuan.
Shi Yuan asked him, “What’s the matter?”
Lu Tinghan called: “Shi Yuan.”
Shi Yuan waited for a while but did not hear the second half of the sentence, so he walked wobbling and hugged Lu Tinghan: “Good night oh, if you are afraid of the dark and monsters, you can hug me.”
The light stretched their shadows. Shi Yuan’s costume shape was exaggerated, and the shadow was even more so. His shadow fell on the stairs and merged with Lu Tinghan’s shadow. One was a monster with teeth and claws, and the other was a tall human being, but at this time, they intermingled with each other and were inseparable.
Lu Tinghan was silent for a while: “How about you? Shi Yuan, are you afraid of monsters?”
“Not afraid,” Shi Yuan said.
Lu Tinghan smiled, touched his head, gently pushed Shi Yuan away, and went back to his room.
When Shi Yuan woke up the next day, Lu Tinghan had already gone out again.
After eating breakfast, he squeezed into the bus with the cypress costume and went to the Garcia Grand Theater.
Qin Luoluo asked him to go to Room 201. After Shi Yuan entered, he saw the room was piled up with books and draft papers. The pale man sat behind the desk, writing hard, with words in his mouth.
Shi Yuan asked carefully: “Hello, sir, I’m playing…”
“I remember you,” the man interrupted him. “Of course, I remember you, you sit next to me and wait for me.”
There was no place to sit next to him, it was full of paper and clutter. Shi Yuan finally found a vacant space to sit down. After waiting for a long time, the man suddenly cursed and threw out the pen in his hand.
The black pen exploded with ink and splattered on the wall. He scratched his hair, took a deep breath, and looked at Shi Yuan: “Sorry, I’m changing the script and I’m not in a good mood.”
“It’s okay,” Shi Yuan said.
“My name is Cheng Youwen,” the man said. “I wrote the script in your hand.” He rubbed his face. “Come with me.”
He struggled to get up, picked up the crutches by the table, and limped out the door. It was only then that Shi Yuan noticed that Cheng Youwen’s left leg had no instep or toes. The calf was as thin as a branch and covered with white hair, and the end was a hard sheep’s hoof, which looked extremely bizarre.
He had been infected.
Unlike the mutants, the after-effects of the infection had destroyed his health and ability to walk.
Cheng Youwen struggled to walk to the next room. The room was filled with props for the show, he panted and said, “Let me hear your lines again.”
Shi Yuan read it again.
Cheng Youwen frowned and asked, “Do you know who plays Leo?”
“Leo” was the protagonist of this script.
Shi Yuan shook his head.
Cheng Youwen: “It’s Wolfgang—that’s our chief. You’ve seen his muscles, it takes a great monster to match him. You can’t do it at all, such a tree demon, Leo can hit ten of you with one punch.”
Shi Yuan said, “But, Mr. Wolfgang can really hit ten of me with one punch.”
“Momentum! Temperament! That’s what I’m talking about!” Cheng Youwen hated that iron could not become steel. “You can’t lose your momentum and temperament to him. In order to stay young and maintain your own beauty, the tree demon feeds on human blood, you have to act out the feeling of being soft on the outside, crazy and vicious on the inside!” He pointed to his face. “Shi Yuan, imagine that I am your enemy who killed your father, and you can’t wait to tear me to pieces. What do you want to say at this time?”
Shi Yuan said, “I don’t have a father.”
Cheng Youwen: “What about your mother?”
Shi Yuan said, “I don’t have a mother either.” He added, “I don’t have anyone I hate.”
Cheng Youwen scratched his hair frantically again: “Then you have seen the way others encounter enemies, right? Just imagine how I would react if I met the enemy who killed my mother. What tone of voice would I use? I’m sure I’d eat him alive!”
Shi Yuan said, “You are so pitiful, what happened to your mother?”
“This is an example!” Cheng Youwen was about to scratch his hair into a bird’s nest. “My mother left me behind and ran away when I was one year old. I still don’t know her whereabouts. I don’t have time to care about her life or death. Let’s just assume, just assume, okay? Shi Yuan, what are you going to say if my mom is no longer around?”
Shi Yuan said, “Mr. Cheng, your mother is dead.”
Cheng Youwen: ?
Cheng Youwen: ???
He said: “…Shi Yuan, your EQ is too low.”
Shi Yuan: ?
His tail curled into a question mark in confusion.
Cheng Youwen took a few deep breaths before calming down: “You are hopeless. I, you, I… you let me calm down first.”
“I’m sorry,” Shi Yuan said. “I may really have no talent.”
“No, it’s not your problem.” Cheng Youwen rubbed his brows. “Well, it’s not, maybe you have a problem too, anyway, you don’t fit this role. In terms of setting, the tree demon has a good skin. I originally asked you to try it because of your good-looking face. Alas, Qin Luoluo is really…” He patted Shi Yuan on the shoulder. “I’m quick-tempered, don’t take it personally, don’t apologize to me.”
Shi Yuan asked, “Then what else do I have to do?”
Cheng Youwen thought for a while: “You go backstage to find Tracy.” He turned his head and coughed a few times. “I’ll go back and change the script after calming down. If you have time, you can figure it out again and try your best. What you are going to participate in is the best script in three years.”
He hobbled out on crutches, and turned back when he was about to go out: “Shi Yuan, you are also very miserable. Do you have… Do you have adoptive parents?”
Shi Yuan: “No.” He wanted to tell Cheng Youwen that he really had “no parents” in the literal sense, but he didn’t know how to explain it.
Cheng Youwen sighed heavily and went back to the room.