Chapter 123: Thankfully, I Wasn’t Too Caught Up in the Act

(1/3)

The slap came out of nowhere, crisp and ringing, loud with pure hate.
It was like water slowly filling up until, all at once, a sluice gate snapped open and it all rushed out in a flood.
Before that moment, she had already drawn everyone’s emotions close and spread them through the room.
That slap, at just the right instant, let all those feelings burst loose.

When the sound of the slap landed, every heart in the room seemed ready to leap out of the chest.
Damn, that felt good.
It was such a satisfying blow.

Even Shi Heng was so carried away that he half-raised a fist in response.
The only person who truly lacked that immersion was likely Qinze, the one who had been slapped.
Was that even in the script?
And he realized, too, that he couldn’t possibly hold his own with her performance.

He even had to admit the slap was damned excellent—himself.
Still, he kept his professional discipline and continued the scene with Jiang Sui opposite him.

He gripped Jiang Sui’s hand hard, eyes dark with fury. “How dare you strike the Son of Heaven?”

Jiang Sui, as Chen Wanwan, stared at him with wild, frenzied laughter. “What is it, Your Majesty? You mean to behead me as well? Then why not kill me too, so this humble concubine may be reunited with her family? What do you think?”

That gradual shift of expression, that deranged ferocity, poured out her fierce hatred and love for the emperor with total clarity.

(2/3)

Chen Wanwan was the legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Zhongyuan and the reigning Noble Consort; she possessed a proud bearing of her own.
Even if her whole family had been annihilated, even if she had been betrayed by the one she loved, that proud spine still stood unbent.

“Chen Wanwan, do not think I am afraid to kill you!” the emperor said coldly. “I have known long ago everything you did to Ruyan. In this court, in this palace, how many lives were taken by you and your father? You should have died already!”

At his words, Chen Wanwan’s heart sank to ash.
The pride on her face vanished in an instant, as though a hard shell had shattered.

She stepped back several paces, and the sharp turn in her mood made everyone’s chest tighten, as if they wanted to slap that bastard emperor themselves.

For a moment, no one even remembered that Jiang Sui was merely playing the third-billed lady.

“I may have killed them. So what of it? Shouldn’t those who blocked my path die too?” she said through hatred, then laughed through tears at herself.
“Now, this humble concubine wishes only to ask one thing… Did you ever, truly, love me?”

Her tears were broken and trembling as she looked at the emperor with her last scrap of hope,
as if she knew death was imminent and yet still dared to expect a miracle.

The emperor portrayed by Qinze showed a flicker of emotion then.
“There is no.”

He still said coldly, but dared not look at Chen Wanwan again.

Chen Wanwan drew in a long breath, shut her eyes, and wore only a sarcastic smile.
“The love of an emperor,” she murmured, “is utterly, utterly false.”

The audition scene was over.

(3/3)

But the director forgot to call “Cut.”
Everyone had been so drenched in the emotional swell that no one came back to themselves right away.
Only when Jiang Sui smoothly returned to her normal face, brushed the tears from the corners of her eyes, and stepped out of character, did the room wake up.

Jiang Sui thought to herself: Thank heaven I didn’t sink too deep into it, or I might have skewered the emperor with a knife before I could stop myself.
In the inner palace, survival depends entirely on acting.
If your acting is only a little off, you can’t escape a beheading.
This was exactly the sort of role made for her profession.

“Excellent, excellent!” the director clapped, pleased. “Jiang Sui, you’ve made me see you in a new light. You did wonderfully!”
Director Lin joined in the clapping, and everyone else clapped with equal excitement.
Shi Heng laughed, clearly proud to be part of it.

Yet part of him felt strange. In the script, with similar lines, the third-billed lady had seemed merely vicious.
But once Jiang Sui played her, the malice was not just malice. It gave people such a fierce sense of identification, making them feel she had done nothing wrong—as if it was exactly as it should be.
Even the scene where that noble consort had just stabbed the emperor seemed completely fitting, with no jarring discord.