Chapter 32: North Electric Preliminary Trial

February 25, 2001.

Winter was nearing its end, yet the wind still howled bitterly.

The gates of North Electric University welcomed a long-absent bustle: young men and women in down jackets lined up densely outside, their breaths puffing white mist, yet their excitement undimmed.

Each youthful face gazed eagerly toward the campus.

At this moment,

there was a gathering of handsome men and beautiful women.

Everyone hoped that, after several months, they would officially enter this prestigious arts university as students.

The North Electric entrance exam had always drawn widespread attention.

Many news media outlets were present on-site—interviewing, photographing, perhaps capturing someone who, in a few years, would rise as a new star.

“Look over there.”

A bespectacled reporter from Sohu tapped his colleague: “That kid’s good—worth snapping a photo.”

The photographer turned his lens and clicked the shutter.

In the frame appeared a boy with an overly soft, pretty face—extremely handsome.

Just as he moved the camera,

his hand froze.

A more striking figure suddenly stepped into view: sharp jawline, straight nose, and an exceptionally novel hairstyle that made his features appear profoundly three-dimensional.

His overall aura was fiercely sharp, like a drawn blade.

His level of handsomeness

instantly crushed the previous pretty boy.

“Click.”

The photographer found a perfect profile and pressed the shutter hard.

Glancing at the photographer a short distance away, Li Luo walked forward slowly, patiently waiting to enter the exam hall.

Though he had full confidence,

to leave a strong impression on the examiners, he’d visited a hairstylist for an American-style spiky cut, making him look even more handsome and fresh.

“Sorry.”

Someone bumped into him, followed immediately by an apology.

“It’s fine.”

Turning back while shaking his documents, Li Luo’s expression showed mild surprise.

The one apologizing was Jia Nailiang; combined with the earlier sight of Bian Xiaoxiao and Wang Luodan, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a wry smile—he’d walked straight into a knife-stabbing nest.

The so-called “knife-stabbing incident”

occurred when Bian Xiaoxiao collaborated with Yin Datian on a drama and suddenly launched an online tirade accusing him of assault and hair-pulling.

The nature of the incident was undeniably vile.

Before the full surveillance footage was released, Yin Datian faced fierce public condemnation—including from people who had regularly interacted with him and called him brother—hence the origin of the “Knife-Stabbing Cult.”

Later, it was proven

that the two had argued, and angered, Yin Datian shoved the other.

Though the incident was clarified,

he never recovered.

Now Li Luo finally understood: among these Knife-Stabbing Cult members, some were surely exploiting the chaos to step on him.

Others had acted on impulse, mindlessly joining the outcry.

Who could have imagined being genuinely betrayed by a crying classmate?

In Li Luo’s view, that woman’s conduct was even more repulsive—no wonder she portrayed Su Meng so convincingly in “Zhengyangmen Down,” yet in person, she was all surface and no substance.

Amid these scattered thoughts,

Li Luo joined the line and walked into campus, beginning his North Electric preliminary exam.

Inside the small auditorium,

rows of waiting candidates sat on chairs, most staring fixedly at the stage, trying to psychologically pressure their rivals.

Several examiners sat up front,

occasionally waving their pens, scoring one candidate after another.

With casual gestures,

they altered individual destinies.

“Next.”

The bespectacled examiner yawned and waved his arm.

“Hello, teachers.”

Li Luo stepped forward calmly from the line, his voice clear and strong: “Candidate No. 27, height one meter seventy-eight, from Gui District...”

Here, candidates were strictly forbidden from stating their names.

A brief self-introduction sufficed.

His Mandarin was already good; after strengthening with the Dialogue attribute, his accent vanished entirely.

His diction was not only crisp but also resonant and powerful.

Below the stage sat several examiners with blank expressions; Huo Xuan, who had dined with him days ago, sat in the center—now radiating unmistakable authority.

Yu Feihong nodded subtly.

A faint smile flickered at her lips.

After hearing the self-introduction, Huo Xuan tapped his fingers on the table: “Next is the three-minute dialogue assessment—novels, essays, or fables are acceptable. Candidate No. 27, prepare.”

The other examiners’ expressions sharpened in focus.

Everyone knew that when Professor Huo became interested, he made this unconscious gesture.

In fact,

Huo Xuan was genuinely intrigued.

He was deeply curious what had led Zhang Zhongzhi to choose this boy, Li Luo, to portray Lin Pingzhi.

Yu Feihong sat rigidly upright,

eyes locked on the stage.

In her heart, an unspoken resentment flickered.

“Alright.”

After a moment’s thought, Li Luo recited a passage from “The Smiling, Proud Wanderer.”

Months of effort had made it second nature.

As the story unfolded, everyone’s attention gradually drew in—he didn’t have the dramatic intensity of earlier candidates, yet his calm, unhurried tone was strangely captivating.

With his foundational dialogue skill enhanced, Li Luo unleashed his full power.

Strong dialogue ability was crucial.

In any film or drama, certain actors spoke in ways that were instantly gripping—clear, comfortable, and deeply infectious.

That was the mark of dialogue skill.

Other actors mumbled indistinctly; without subtitles, you couldn’t tell what the hell they were saying.

Three minutes later, his voice abruptly stopped.

“And then?”

One examiner, unfamiliar with “The Smiling, Proud Wanderer,” asked: “Did Linghu Chong die?”

“Uh.”

Li Luo froze, unsure how to respond.

“Boom~”

The next moment, the room erupted in laughter.

“Quiet, quiet.”

Huo Xuan stood, frowning as he scanned the room.

Once laughter subsided, he nodded approvingly at the stage: “Excellent. Candidate No. 27, you may step down.”

Dozens of envious, jealous gazes instantly pierced the center of the stage.

Jia Nailiang wore a face full of admiration and anticipation; to his left, fifth in line, Bian Xiaoxiao bit her nails, lost in thought.

In a corner nearby, Huang Sheng tapped his fingers on the armrest.

His eyes gleamed.

So far, the best comment any examiner had given was merely “not bad.”

“Thank you, teachers.”

Amid dozens of burning stares, Li Luo bowed, then walked calmly offstage.

Performance—easily secured.

Physicality—the clean, swift long fist routine left Yu Feihong stunned.

Music—“Xiao Fang” made every candidate and examiner exhale in relief.

When he sang “Thank you for your love,” Li Luo nearly cracked his voice, drawing chuckles from everyone; even Huo Xuan inwardly sighed—he finally found something this kid wasn’t good at.

Yet as he watched Li Luo walk offstage with calm composure,

He couldn't help giving him a higher score.

This kid has thick skin.

It's a good trait.