Chapter Seventy-Two: Audition

The fact that all the actors were looking in the same direction quickly caught the attention of the crew members. One of them immediately put down what he was doing and walked over, wanting to find out what was going on.

“Jiwon Yin, you’re finally here. The audition for the second male lead has already begun. Please come with me,” the crew member said politely, spotting Jiwon Yin still standing in the corridor with Zhe Chen. He hurried over, greeted Jiwon Yin courteously, and asked him to follow for the audition.

“Zhe Chen, good luck. Do your best!” Jiwon Yin nodded to the staff, then patted Zhe Chen on the shoulder, smiling warmly and encouraging him.

“Neh, senior, I’ll do my best!” Feeling the strength of the pat and hearing the encouraging words, Zhe Chen returned the warm smile and nodded vigorously.

“That’s the spirit. I’ll be off now—see you next time!” Jiwon Yin nodded approvingly at Zhe Chen’s response, waved, and left with the staff member.

Watching Jiwon Yin walk away, then glancing at the other actors as they averted their eyes, Zhe Chen shook his head helplessly. He found an empty seat and sat down to quietly wait for his turn.

Time slipped by as he sat lost in thought. At least an hour and a half had passed since Jiwon Yin left; five or six actors had already gone in to audition. Most came out looking dejected, their spirits visibly low. From their expressions, Zhe Chen could easily guess the outcome of their auditions.

“Is Zhe Chen here? Please come in for your audition!” Just as Zhe Chen was still observing the actors leaving the room, the door to the audition room opened and an actor with his head down walked out. A staff member poked his head out from inside and called Zhe Chen’s name.

“Yes, I’m here. I’ll be right in.” Realizing he was being called, Zhe Chen quickly stood up, brushed off his clothes, and strode toward the audition room.

Inside, Director Wonho Shin and scriptwriter Yoo-jung Lee of the “Reply 1997” crew sat behind a table, watching as Zhe Chen introduced himself. Their expressions barely changed, though Director Shin did raise his eyebrows slightly—an almost imperceptible movement that Zhe Chen nevertheless noticed.

“Yes, Zhe Chen, is it? Try performing this scene,” the director said. Because of Zhe Chen’s recent popularity on YouTube, Director Shin recognized him during the self-introduction and, on a whim, picked up another script from beside him, intending for Zhe Chen to try a different scene.

Zhe Chen accepted the script with both hands, smiled politely at the two of them, and eagerly opened it, reading the scene with care.

The plot was simple: when Yunjai Yoon proposes to Shiyuan Sung, he sees her remain unresponsive, so he suggests several romantic ways to propose, all of which she rejects. In the end, he speaks the most straightforward and direct proposal to her.

After reading through the script, Zhe Chen closed his eyes to ponder the scene carefully.

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“So you’re agreeing to marry me, right? I’ll give you three seconds. If you don’t answer, I’m going to kiss you.” Zhe Chen’s expression grew calm, his tone natural yet earnest.

“One, two...” Counting softly, Zhe Chen leaned forward as if to move closer.

“Look at me when you answer!” Zhe Chen pulled his head back, his tone earnest, his gaze growing intense.

Then, as if he heard some wonderful news, the corners of his lips lifted, a smile emerging, joy flickering even in his eyes.

Watching Zhe Chen’s performance, Director Shin nodded almost imperceptibly, appearing quite satisfied. Sitting beside him, screenwriter Yoo-jung Lee also broke into a smile, as if seeing a character from her own novel step out into reality.

After finishing, Zhe Chen bowed politely to both the director and the writer.

“Very well, Zhe Chen, your performance was quite good. Please wait for our notification,” Director Shin said, reining in his emotions and speaking with a neutral tone.

Knowing that the director and writer still had to deliberate over him and the other candidates, Zhe Chen bowed again and left the audition room.

“What do you think—how does this Zhe Chen compare to In-guk Seo?” Director Shin asked Yoo-jung Lee after Zhe Chen left.

“Personally, I lean toward Zhe Chen. I think this newcomer from LOEN has remarkable acting skills. Both his appearance and demeanor are much closer to my ideal image of Yunjai Yoon,” Yoo-jung Lee replied without hesitation, her voice full of conviction.

Hearing this, Director Shin pondered for a moment longer, then, as if finally making up his mind, nodded to the writer.

After leaving TVN, Zhe Chen originally wanted to treat Jiwon Yin to a meal, but by the time he came out, Yin had already finished his audition and left. Since he still needed to return to the company to prepare for the recording and choreography of his song’s music video, he gave up on the idea and followed Han Zelyu’s car back to LOEN.

“How did the audition go, Zhe?” Han Zelyu asked with a smile in his voice, glancing at Zhe Chen in the rearview mirror.

“I think it went well this time. I really surpassed myself!” Zhe Chen answered casually, absentmindedly fiddling with his long bangs.

The TVN building wasn’t far from LOEN, and after a short drive, Zhe Chen arrived.

The moment he returned, he headed straight for the recording studio. Watching Music Director Pei Zhixi adjusting the track, Zhe Chen couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration—Mr. Pei was truly dedicated to his work.

“Mr. Pei, may I ask why you called me in so suddenly?” After greeting him, Zhe Chen asked curiously.

“I found a spot in the track that still doesn’t work, so I wanted you to come record it again,” Pei Zhixi said seriously, finally turning to face Zhe Chen.

“Yes, Mr. Pei, I understand.” Seeing his earnest expression, Zhe Chen realized he’d have to record the entire song again today. He never expected Mr. Pei to be this strict—there could be no flaws.

After Pei Zhixi explained the problem, Zhe Chen composed himself, cleared his throat, and strode determinedly into the recording booth.

He spent the entire afternoon in the studio, and only when the recording of “Melody” finally met Pei Zhixi’s standards was it finished. Once he had the version he wanted, the director checked the time and, seeing it was getting late, told Zhe Chen to hurry up and leave so as not to disturb his work any further.

Zhe Chen watched Pei Zhixi’s attitude—so quick to cast him aside now that the work was done—and silently grumbled to himself. Still, he kept a smile on his face, politely said his farewells, and then left.