Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 7

Meng Manli glanced at the office door labeled “Night of the Murder Chase Audition Room,” confirming the room number. “We’re in the right place. What did you see?”

Shen Shuangjing frowned, her expression doubtful. “Someone I know.”

Meng Manli remained composed, patting her shoulder. “Whether it’s someone you know, a stranger, an ex, or someone who owes you money, you have to go in. Just imagine them as corn or cabbage. Think about that six-figure paycheck.”

The opportunity was right in front of them; backing down now would mean all their efforts had been for nothing.

Shen Shuangjing’s gaze flickered slightly as she remembered she hadn’t yet informed her agent about her marriage. “Sister Manli, I need to talk to you after the audition.”

Meng Manli raised an eyebrow. “Does it involve corn or cabbage?”

“…Yes,” Shen Shuangjing replied, making the dieters in the room feel even hungrier.

Meng Manli gave a thumbs-up.

Without further hesitation, Shen Shuangjing pushed open the door and entered.

Her eyes immediately fell on the woman seated at the center of the room. Though she wasn’t smiling, she radiated an undeniable presence, shining brighter than anyone else in the crowd.

Like everyone else, Shen Shuangjing’s gaze was drawn to her.

In a few seconds, Shen Shuangjing subtly averted her gaze, fixed her eyes forward, and smoothly recited the self-introduction she had memorized.

The casting director nodded slightly, his hawk-like eyes sizing her up like a measuring ruler. He leaned down to whisper a few words to Producer Tang before saying warmly, “Please wait a moment. The actor you’ll be performing with has diarrhea and is in the restroom. He’ll be out shortly.”

Shen Shuangjing nodded, maintaining a detached demeanor as she quietly observed their interaction.

It was obvious that the individuals present held significant positions, essentially the leadership of the production team, wielding the power of life and death over actors’ roles. Yet even these influential figures showed extraordinary attention to Sang Baili, their gestures and tone of voice radiating visible admiration and flattery.

Whether in the entertainment industry or the business world, Sang Baili was a legend. She had shattered box office records and become the youngest billionaire, a self-made force standing at the apex of society’s pyramid.

Sang Baili’s maturity and composure shone through in her work. Her long, chestnut-brown hair, smooth as silk, was neatly styled, conveying a sense of competence and calm. A faint smile played at the corners of her lips, a stark contrast to her usual languid, occasionally flirtatious demeanor.

Yet the two personas didn’t clash.

Her responses were effortless, her demeanor composed. Though her politeness clearly kept others at arm’s length, her words conveyed genuine humility and respect, making it difficult not to feel drawn to her.

She seemed to radiate an inner light, captivating those around her—what people commonly call personal charisma.

Shen Shuangjing noticed the others referring to her as “President Sang,” confirming the clear hierarchy.

As she watched, Sang Baili suddenly turned her head and glanced at her.

Their eyes met.

Shen Shuangjing paused, then offered Sang Baili a faint, private smile. As others turned to look, the smile vanished with lightning speed.

It felt like they were sneaking around right under everyone’s noses.

But she was adhering to Article 39 of their agreement: maintaining secrecy about their marital relationship in public.

Their marriage had been arranged solely to reassure Grandma, and they had avoided any grand ceremony. Otherwise, a year later, when they divorced, the public spectacle would inevitably invite scrutiny and trouble. It was better to keep their relationship hidden from the start, revealing it only to a handful of close friends.

Sang Baili raised an eyebrow, withdrew her gaze from Shen Shuangjing’s face, and said slowly, “Has the actress we’re rehearsing with been in the restroom a bit too long?”

Her seductive voice, like a soul-snatching chain, carried an overwhelming sense of authority.

“It’s been too long,” the assistant director agreed repeatedly, rubbing his temples. “But it’s unfair to her if she’s the only one without a scene partner.”

This is a disaster.

Could the scene partner have gone to the bathroom in the neighboring province? How could they disappear at such a crucial moment? The woman before them was their ideal candidate to play Zhong Zhong. They had even brought the initial contract in a file folder, pending confirmation of her acting skills.

Sang Baili’s slender, elegant fingers casually intertwined, as if she were completely unconcerned. “Why don’t I step in?”

The assistant director fell silent, earnestly considering the feasibility.

The producer chimed in, “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”

Sang Baili glanced at him, her fox-like eyes narrowing dangerously, though she spoke with mock amusement. “It seems my acting skills don’t meet Producer Tang’s standards.”

The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

The air froze solid.

The producer hastily backtracked. “Of course not, President Sang! But Xiao Shen has limited acting experience. I’m just worried she’ll be too nervous acting opposite the Best Actress and won’t perform well. Maybe… I should step in instead.”

Producer Tang, nearing forty, adjusted his toupee and stood up with an air of refined elegance. He reminisced about his younger days when he had been considered quite handsome, though now he was balding and had a beer belly. Playing a beautiful undercover police officer shouldn’t be too much of a stretch, he thought.

It’s just a bit of a sacrifice for Xiao Shen, he mused.

The assistant director tugged forcefully at his sleeve, whispering reproachfully, “Even if you don’t care about our eyes, think about the actress you’ll be working with. This is practically workplace harassment.”

Producer Tang fell silent, stunned by the blunt truth delivered in broad daylight. He reluctantly sat back down, seething inwardly.

The assistant director turned apologetically to Sang Baili. “President Sang, I just had my assistant check again. The actor we were supposed to rehearse with is feeling unwell and won’t be able to make it back. Fortunately, Shen Shuangjing is the last actress auditioning today. Would you mind running lines with her?”

Producer Tang opened his mouth to protest, but the assistant director pinched his thigh hard, silencing him with a sharp glare. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Sang Baili’s response.

Sang Baili nodded. “Everyone’s time is precious. I’ll do it.”

As soon as she finished speaking, her gaze shifted to Shen Shuangjing, her crimson lips parting slightly. “Miss Shen, what are your thoughts?”

Miss Shen had no objections.

“It’s an honor to act opposite President Sang,” she said.

Sang Baili’s lips curved slightly. Today, she wore black eyeliner that extended outward from the inner corners of her eyes, accentuating her regal bearing and radiating allure.

Shen Shuangjing stepped forward to draw a script. She drew the first scene, the first meeting between the third female lead and the first female lead.

The first female lead was an undercover police officer who had infiltrated a bar. To quickly familiarize herself with the bar’s environment and social network, she focused her attention on Zhong Zhong, the third female lead, who had worked there for years and was shrouded in suspicion.

Deliberately orchestrating an “accident,” she struck up a conversation with Zhong Zhong, and the two formally introduced themselves.

Within fifteen minutes, Shen Shuangjing had successfully completed her audition. The casting director immediately offered her the role of the third female lead.

The contract was signed.

The matter was settled.

Still young and not yet adept at concealing her emotions, Shen Shuangjing’s eyes curved into crescents, her cheeks flushed with a radiant joy that emanated from within. Her heart felt like a warm, empty glass jar, brimming with the golden sunlight streaming through the window.

Her solitary figure formed a picturesque scene.

Producer Tang couldn’t help but sigh, “Some people captivate you at first glance, then leave you wondering why they aren’t already famous. But when our team saw Shen Shuangjing, we thought something different: she’s about to explode.”

Timing, location, and talent—Shen Shuangjing possessed them all.

Standing beside him, Sang Baili gazed at the girl’s star-like eyes, unexpectedly luminous in the sunlight. Her thoughts remained unspoken, but a gentle smile played at the corners of her lips.

The producer naturally believed the investors were satisfied with their third female lead; otherwise, they could have vetoed the decision.

Undeterred, he invited Sang Baili to attend auditions for other roles, but she declined, citing work commitments.

“Today’s auditions have shown me an outstanding, mature, and infinitely promising team,” she said, her words brimming with confidence and assurance that there was no need for her to return.

Producer Tang, his eyes brimming with tears, vowed to live up to President Sang’s investment.

The attendees took turns exchanging a few words with Sang Baili before dispersing into their own conversations.

The assistant director spoke briefly with Shen Shuangjing, expressing great confidence in her. “While President Sang is still here, thank her,” she urged. “Anyone could see she deliberately helped you get into character earlier.”

Shen Shuangjing was gently pushed forward.

The assistant director called out, “President Sang, Xiao Shen has something to say to you.”

With that, she retreated into the crowd, her mission accomplished.

Their eyes met. Sang Baili raised her gaze, observing the still-uncomprehending young woman. “What is it?” she asked. After a pause, she added, “Miss Shen.”

Is this the Best Actress’s acting prowess?

Shen Shuangjing noticed neither familiarity nor surprise in her expression.

Miss Shen’s lips twitched slightly, her round, lively eyes betraying her inner thoughts. Yet, unaware of her own expression, she said earnestly and obediently, “Thank you, President Sang.”

Sang Baili chuckled softly, her voice like a teasing hook. “What are you thanking me for?” she asked casually.