Brother Dao Took the Entertainment Industry by Storm, Fans Beg Me Not to Kill Anymore

Chapter 651: The Audition Underway, A Debate of Right and Wrong

Qiu Zhenlong had clearly done his homework on Xiao He.

Most of Xiao He's current period dramas were in the wuxia and xianxia genres, featuring common action sequences, with a smaller proportion of dialogue-heavy scenes that didn't require particularly outstanding performances. But "Imperial Enterprise" was different—it was, on the whole, a slow-paced historical drama. Many of its plot points revolved around dialogue-heavy scenes, which demanded strong command of lines and acting skills in that arena.

This was the trickiest kind of scenario.

If the acting was good, a dialogue-heavy scene could still be intensely riveting for the audience. If the acting was bad, it was like a meeting of wooden dolls, guaranteed to put people to sleep.

So when Xiao He saw it was a dialogue scene requiring strong line delivery and a certain level of acting nuance, he instead felt a sense of "just as I expected."

After receiving the audition script, they didn't give Xiao He much time to prepare.

Almost as soon as Xiao He had skimmed through the content once, the staff member urged him to enter and get ready.

Xiao He frowned slightly. "What about these lines?"

Although he would have done some preparation in advance, lines for this kind of dialogue-heavy scene were both numerous and complex. There was no way they could memorize everything beforehand.

The staff member quickly explained, "The lines will be on a monitor on stage. Teacher Xiao can read them while performing."

Xiao He nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Got it. Thanks."

He was led to the door of a meeting room.

Soon after, he formally entered.

-

The room was empty, with only the faint hum of the ventilation system's airflow.

A few tables and chairs were scattered haphazardly around. In the distance sat several audition judges, silent, calmly watching the young man in the center of the space.

There was no period set here, no actors for opposite scenes—just him alone.

Yet, as he casually flicked his wrist, brushing at a non-existent sleeve, his simple casual wear seemed to transform in an instant, becoming the imperial robe of the supreme ruler, the Son of Heaven.

Without any superfluous body movements, merely lowering his eyes slightly, that terrifying aura burst forth.

"The Chancellor claims he harbors no selfish thoughts."

His voice was not loud, his pace unhurried, the tone slightly heavy at the end. He made no deliberate attempt to raise it for majesty, but every word was crisp, carrying the power to pierce the heart. "I believe him."

With those words, the young man had already sat down on the chair in the center.

Now, as he lifted his eyes again, his face no longer bore the immaturity of youth. Instead, it had gained the sharp edge of an emperor. His gaze was unusually calm, without fury, yet it carried an invisible sense of oppression.

It was the composure and restraint of an emperor who had risen from a military background, after two years of quiet contemplation.

"But the Chancellor has forgotten that I, and you, both crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood. You see the people's suffering, and I feel it more keenly than anyone... But under the guise of benevolent governance, you are actually abandoning military readiness and neglecting defense. For the Great Qing as it stands, this is still far too hasty."

The young emperor raised his hand, pointing toward the empty air, his tone now heavier with weight. "A child weeps clutching his father's corpse; a widow sobs leaning against a crumbling wall. You said, 'The empire was won on horseback—can it be governed on horseback?' * Do you think I don't know the world needs rest and recuperation?"

*"The empire was won through military force; how can it be governed through military force alone?"

"If the border defenses are weakened, foreign enemies will surely come. If the laws are broken, powerful ministers will surely rise. If invaders knock at our gates, and the frontier army has no food, and the garrison soldiers have no weapons—who will defend our land? If the flames of war reignite, and the people are displaced, their homes destroyed by fire, then where is the 'rest and recuperation' you speak of?"

The emperor's words were deliberate, forceful, and resonant. Finally, he stood up again, carrying the confidence of a military man and the responsibility of an emperor. There was no wavering in his eyes, only a weariness that was barely perceptible.

As if hearing the Chancellor's response, his fingertips tightened slightly, his aura growing tenser. But in the end, he simply turned slowly, facing the judges' panel. His figure was solitary but not hunched, and his voice carried only a faint trace of hoarseness: "If I show no mercy to the people, it is also for the people's sake."

"Chancellor, you are not wrong. It is simply that our paths are different, and our aims are different."

Finally, he turned to face the judges' panel, his gaze boring straight into Qiu Zhenlong seated among them. He maintained his upright stance, but the determination in his eyes was ultimately replaced by an indescribable sense of release, as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted.

At that moment, he suddenly realized that he and the Chancellor would inevitably drift apart due to their differing political views. Yet he also understood that this was a debate without right or wrong, only opposing positions. No matter whose path was ultimately taken, it still signaled the final curtain fall on their bond as ruler and minister.

What a pity. In the end, past loyalties always serve only to prove the emperor's lonely, solitary fate.

The young emperor slowly closed his eyes, not uttering another word.

-

When Xiao He opened his eyes again, the judges before him were all applauding softly.

For an actor who could reach this stage, their infectiousness was anything but ordinary. The historical screenwriter beside them was already teary-eyed. For someone like them, who had deeply researched and understood this history, the scene before them represented not just a debate without right or wrong, but also an emperor's lifelong regret—the beginning of his journey toward becoming a lonely ruler, unburdened by attachments.

So, seeing Xiao He's brilliant performance, combined with the historical facts in their mind, a screenwriter who loved that era's history was crying outright.

This made the others present seem rather cold. After watching Xiao He's performance, they all lowered their heads to take notes, not saying a word. No one knew what they were writing, and no one immediately offered any comments.

Xiao He stood in the center, feeling a bit awkward.

The good news: He had made someone cry.

The bad news: Why wasn't anyone else crying?!

This made him and the crying screenwriter look so awkward together!

Xiao He swore it was the longest three minutes of his life.

After three minutes, Director Qiu Zhenlong in the center finally put down his fountain pen, his expression unreadable as he stared at the young actor in the middle.

Xiao He instinctively straightened his back.

"Do you know how to ride a horse?"

Qiu Zhenlong suddenly asked.

Xiao He immediately replied, "Yes, I do."

"Archery?"

"Yes, I can do that too!"

...

Qiu Zhenlong fired off a series of questions, even asking about skills completely unrelated to period drama filming, and Xiao He gave an affirmative answer to each one.

After all, those skills were all on his resume.

But in the end, Qiu Zhenlong just snorted with a laugh, his tone carrying an unknown hint of mockery. "And calligraphy?"

"I know a little."

"A little?"

Qiu Zhenlong raised an eyebrow at this seemingly different answer, and directly gestured for the staff on the side to bring out paper, ink, brush, and inkstone, telling Xiao He to write on the spot.

"I don't know if you saw it when you came in, but downstairs, there's an authentic calligraphy piece by Emperor Chen. Write that same phrase for me. Let me see if your 'a little' is an exaggeration, or a downplaying of your skill."

This time, Xiao He was sure. Qiu Zhenlong was mocking him. It seemed he didn't trust the resume Xiao He had submitted, thinking all the skills listed were just exaggerated boasts—pure bullshit.

But if that was the case... then that was perfect!

Xiao He was afraid he wouldn't be able to show enough, that he'd lose out to those competitors next door!

When it came to skills...

Director Qiu, name whatever you want, I've got it!

And even if I don't, I can still make it happen!