Damn It! The Main Shou Turned Me Gay! (Showbiz) - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Mysterious Main Character

Unfortunately, this popular drama’s third male lead clearly lacked the ability to read the room.

Wu Tianyi lit up with joy the moment he saw Qi Wenyen respond, barely able to suppress his excitement as he explained, “Editor Qi, I’ve studied your script. I think Feng Xiao is a free-spirited gentleman, so I emphasized the laughter scenes in my performance—”

Qi Wenyen gave him a cold glance, a flicker of disdain flashing in his eyes.

He didn’t know why, but an inexplicable surge of irritation suddenly rose in his chest.

So he went with it and snapped:

“Who asked you?”

Wu Tianyi froze on the spot.

Qi Wenyen rubbed his temple impatiently and followed up naturally with, “Feng Xiao is carefree, not brainless! Director Song next door is casting a warrior monk. If you want to laugh like a maniac, go bother their crew. Don’t act deranged in mine!”

His harsh words filled the room like a slap, leaving everyone speechless.

Qi Wenyen instantly regretted it. Damn, he’d gotten too worked up and completely forgot to stay in character… Would they realize he wasn’t the real Editor Qi?

However, Song An seemed unfazed by the scene.

“Xiao Wu, Editor Qi’s just a bit blunt. Don’t take it personally. We saw your performance. If there’s any follow-up, we’ll contact you.”

Truthfully, Song An was finally breathing a sigh of relief.

Because the Qi Wenyen he knew was finally back.

He had thought it odd—how could Qi Wenyen stay so calm when it came to his own script?

But Wu Tianyi, relying on his connections, stubbornly said, “It’s fine if Editor Qi doesn’t choose me, but I want to stay and watch. I want to see what’s so special about the person he does pick!”

The casting director inhaled sharply at the tension and quickly changed the subject “Speaking of which… Editor Qi, how did you know about Director Song’s casting needs?”

Qi Wenyen blinked, taking a beat longer than usual to process the question. …Wasn’t he inside a novel? Why had other memories suddenly surfaced just now?

A moment later, he shook his head as if remembering something.

Qi Wenyen smiled, “We talked a bit before.”

Could this be… the legendary influence of the world’s consciousness? Was this world aware that he had zero professional knowledge and would eventually blow his cover, so it had transferred some of the real Qi Wenyen’s memories to him?

That had to be it.

How else could he suddenly remember details of this script?

The tension lingered, but Director Li An didn’t want to outright contradict the investors. He had no choice but to grudgingly allow Wu Tianyi to stay and observe.

Knock knock.

There were two polite taps on the door.

The casting director called out, “Come in.”

Chu Zhiyu stepped inside with composure, bowed respectfully to the panel, and greeted them, “Hello, directors and teachers. I’m Chu Zhiyu.”

Li An flipped to the corresponding résumé in his hands and instantly brightened. Finally, a well-mannered and good-looking guy.

Qi Wenyen glanced up, just in time to lock eyes with the newcomer.

His voice sounds nice.

That was Qi Wenyen’s first impression.

And he’s… stunning.

The second thought surfaced right after.

Chu. Zhi. Yu.

He couldn’t explain why, but the name struck a familiar chord. Or maybe it was just especially pleasant to hear?

He searched his memories but found nothing related and had to let it go.

For once, Li An, feeling good about the candidate, asked two warm-up questions before the audition began.

“You’re the internet-famous campus heartthrob who went viral because of a group project, right?”

But the polite young man didn’t immediately answer.

Li An looked up, confused—and found Chu Zhiyu staring intensely… at Editor Qi beside him.

Li An: ??

That look was so intense, it could’ve been a perfect close-up shot in a drama. Audiences would’ve shipped it like crazy.

Li An nudged the distracted Qi Wenyen hard, giving him a pointed look as if to say: What’s going on?!

Qi Wenyen had looked at the newcomer once and returned to flipping through the script. But now, confused by the nudge, he looked up again—and once more met Chu Zhiyu’s unwavering gaze.

He coughed awkwardly and tugged at his face mask.

Seeing that Editor Qi didn’t respond, the casting director had no choice but to step in. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

What’s with every contestant today having a backstory?!

Chu Zhiyu didn’t push back, just nodded. Then he suddenly said, “Director Li, could I ask the teacher to your right to help with the scene?”

Totally reasonable. Some actors struggled with miming and needed scene partners. The crew often prepared people for that.

But almost no one directly asked the head screenwriter.

Qi Wenyen didn’t mind. He nodded casually and stood.

Li An glanced over and added, “We’ll record a short audition clip—Qi, if you don’t mind taking off the mask?”

He had a feeling this Chu Zhiyu kid was definitely going to make it into the cast. Even if not the male lead, that face alone was enough for a supporting role.

And getting Qi Wenyen to take off his mask? With a face like that, it’d be great promotion for the crew!

As soon as Li An said that, Chu Zhiyu’s gaze zeroed in on Qi Wenyen’s face like a laser.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Qi Wenyen’s hand froze mid-air as he reached for his mask.

“What? Never seen a screenwriter with two eyes and one mouth before?”

Li An laughed, “Not one as good-looking as you.”

Chu Zhiyu’s fingers curled slightly, the moisture on his palm betraying his nerves.

Qi.

His heart pounded like a drum. Half hope, half anxiety. He stared at the young screenwriter walking toward him—

And in his eyes, the composed adult gradually morphed into a smaller, younger version—sunny, with a carefree smile:

“Xiao Yu, why are you alone again? Didn’t I tell you to come find me if you wanted to play?”

“Chu Zhiyu?”

A clear voice pulled him out of his memories.

He steadied his breathing and fought to keep his voice from trembling with joy. “Yes. Thank you for helping with the scene, Editor Qi. I’m ready.”

Behind them, Wu Tianyi dragged a chair and sulked loudly behind the casting director, muttering, “Why does he get all this special treatment? Making everyone wait, even asking Editor Qi to help?”

Even though he thought he was whispering, the room was quiet enough that everyone heard.

Qi Wenyen, already done with him, smiled and clapped back, “Can irrelevant personnel please mute themselves?”

Chu Zhiyu’s head snapped up, eyes gleaming like a loyal puppy finally picked up from the streets. He blinked at Qi Wenyen and chirped:

“Thank you, Editor Qi!”

Qi Wenyen coughed again and rubbed his nose awkwardly. “Well, no time to waste. Let’s get started.”

The audition officially began.

Chu Zhiyu quickly snapped into character.

He chose the most basic folding fan from the props provided.

Holding the fan in one hand, he positioned himself to Qi Wenyen’s right and gave a light flick, as if brushing someone’s hand aside.

He cast a quick glance back at his “courtesan” Qi Wenyen, then turned to Li An and the panel, arching a brow:

“In my territory, throwing a tantrum? Have you truly thought this through, my good sir?”

Though the tone was playful, his eyes were full of warning.

A moment later, Chu Zhiyu stepped back, bowed politely, and said, “Thank you, Editor Qi. Thank you, teachers. That concludes my performance.”

Li An’s eyes lit up. He blurted, “Still a bit raw, but the emotion’s there!”

And honestly, he did capture a bit of Feng Xiao’s spirit.

Chu Zhiyu nodded, not making excuses. “I’m not professionally trained. My agent got me a teacher, but I’ve only been studying for two months.”

As he spoke, his eyes kept sneaking glances at Qi Wenyen, now seated again.

Li An chuckled warmly. Two months? He had real talent—and what this field lacked most was natural presence.

Though… why did this kid keep staring at Qi?

Li An nudged the contemplative Qi Wenyen. “Editor Qi? Thoughts?”

Qi Wenyen gave him a look. The only thought he had was: Can’t you people leave this salted fish alone?!

Before he could give some half-baked answer to dodge the question, Wu Tianyi suddenly jumped in:

“Director Li and Editor Qi really think he outperformed me? He didn’t even have any memorable moves or standout traits!”

Li An facepalmed.

The casting director looked like he wanted to vanish into thin air.

Qi Wenyen took a sip of water.

Then another.

Still couldn’t hold back.

Enough was enough. Worst case, he could always rent out his villa and live off the cash. He wouldn’t starve.

And with that, Qi Wenyen unleashed the fury.

He propped his head on one hand, calmly turned to Wu Tianyi, and said with biting sarcasm:

“The worst kind of acting is when a dumb actor suddenly thinks he’s a genius. Sure, your version of Feng Xiao was memorable—I’m sure when this drama airs, you’ll get plenty of roles… for characters with cognitive issues. After all—”

“Directors love authentic performances, don’t they?”

Wu Tianyi turned red with rage. “Don’t think just because you had one hit you can walk all over the industry!”

Qi Wenyen’s smile was lethal: “Then please, walk out. My humble production can’t handle such a towering presence like yourself.”

“You—!”

Wu Tianyi’s chest heaved. If he could land better roles, would he even be here?

This was Qi Wenyen’s new script, after all. Even some already-famous actors had considered auditioning. They just didn’t think someone from the open call could steal the male lead slot—until Chu Zhiyu showed up.

But things had gone too far. Even if he wanted to stay and aim for a supporting role, he had completely lost face.

All he could do was storm out and slam the door behind him.

With the eyesore gone, Li An was ecstatic. “Looks like Editor Qi really liked you. Come on, let’s add each other on WeChat. It’ll be easier to contact you if anything’s finalized.”

Chu Zhiyu tuned out the second half of that sentence, replaying just one line in his head:

Editor Qi really liked you…

Liked you…

His cheeks flushed as he shyly glanced over at Qi Wenyen again, hinting,

“The moment I saw Editor Qi, I felt like we’d met before—like a long-lost connection. I really, really like Editor Qi!”

Qi Wenyen’s eyes narrowed. A line from the novel suddenly surfaced in his mind—

“…the pitiful boy who was once coerced by the evil screenwriter was no longer a helpless victim. Thinking back to the role he’d fought tooth and nail to get, he narrowed his eyes and smirked coldly: ‘Editor Qi, don’t blame me for not cherishing the past… feelings… huh.’”

The main character lured the side character into a fake seduction scandal on purpose?!

Alarms blared in Qi Wenyen’s mind.

Sh1t—don’t tell me Chu Zhiyu is the mysterious, censored protagonist?!