Chapter 93: Do You Know Who I Am?

The assistant sitting next to Wu Yuchen, following protocol, said: “Why don’t you start with a self-introduction?”

“I’m Li Xiaoran, twenty years old, and previously…”

Wu Yuchen waved his hand directly to cut her off—he knew exactly what Li Xiaoran was like.

Wu Yuchen stared at Li Xiaoran before him and asked:

“When did you get this haircut?”

“Last night,” Li Xiaoran replied without hesitation, slightly shaking her head to show it off to Wu Yuchen.

Wu Yuchen nodded silently. Li Xiaoran’s original shoulder-length hair had been cut more than half off, and she’d gone out of her way to style it this way—combined with her determined gaze, he already had his answer.

He then told his assistant to continue with the audition process and said nothing more, half his attention on Li Xiaoran’s audition, the other half already drifting to other thoughts.

For 99 percent of female actors in China, the dream role is undoubtedly the “Mou Girl.”

The three most successful Mou Girls are Gong Li, Zhang Ziyi, and Zhou Dongyu.

Gong Li was chosen by Zhang Yimou flipping a coin—he was torn between her and another actress, Shi Ke, and the coin landed on Gong Li.

Gong Li actually took the entrance exam for the Central Academy of Drama three times; even on her third attempt, she fell short by eleven points and was only admitted after the school made a special exception. She wasn’t the top performer in her class and was repeatedly rejected during auditions. After being cast as the lead in “Red Sorghum,” many at the school still doubted her ability—until the film won awards and silenced them all.

Zhang Ziyi, as she herself admitted, was at the bottom of her class and didn’t know how to act when she joined the set. Even after a month of life experience, her first scene on set required forty-five takes. Later, during tear scenes, she couldn’t cry at all—until Zhang Yimou had everyone leave and left her alone on the mountain at night, where the howling wolves finally frightened her into tears. But after “My Father, My Mother,” Zhang Ziyi finally woke up.

Zhou Dongyu, the “Little Duck,” was truly selected from complete amateurs and praised as exceptionally gifted, yet even during “Lover’s Concerto,” Zhang Yimou made her redo a single shot over a hundred times.

One thing must be acknowledged: Zhang Yimou truly has an uncanny ability to unearth an actor’s potential—he can transform them completely.

For a film, initial casting is important, but the shaping of many outstanding roles—or the growth of many great actors—depends heavily on the director’s polishing and guidance.

Granted, Li Xiaoran’s current acting is nowhere near Ning Jing’s, or even close to Yu Lan’s—but from the single look of utter determination she gave just now, from her willingness to chop off her long hair and dye it into a fiery red afro, he knew her longing and resolve for the role of Lola.

The aura she now radiated was increasingly aligned with Lola.

All these thoughts boiled down to one thing: Li Xiaoran was his woman. After she’d gone this far, how could he possibly refuse her?

The original director and lead actress of “Run Lola Run” were also a couple—why can they elevate their girlfriend, but he can’t let Li Xiaoran play the role?

Didn’t Zhou Dongyu’s selection as lead spark a storm of criticism?

From appearance alone, Li Xiaoran lacked a fraction of the physical power Yu Lan had, but she brought more vitality—and her fit for the role surpassed second-choice actresses like Chen Shasha and Mei Ting.

Wu Yuchen decided to treat the million-yuan fee he’d planned for Gong Li as just film stock costs—and spend it all on training Li Xiaoran.

Outside the meeting room, Jiang Qin and Chen Shasha waited.

Chen Shasha’s face was already tense and frustrated—just seeing that girl walk past had left an indelible impression; she couldn’t shake the feeling that the girl was simply more suitable. Even she felt it—how would the director see it?

Jiang Qin showed no expression on her face, but inside, she was far from calm. That girl’s entire look matched the script’s description of Lola perfectly—how could that be coincidence?

She must have read the script in advance!

Where did she get the script? Was she connected to someone powerful? Or did she have some personal relationship with Wu Yuchen?

These questions kept swirling in Jiang Qin’s mind, making her increasingly agitated.

Unconsciously, the door opened, and Li Xiaoran stepped out, her fiery red hair drawing everyone’s gaze again.

But Li Xiaoran paid no attention to them. She walked to the wall, crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back against it, one foot planted, the other pressed flat against the wall—radiating pure indifference.

At that moment, Jiang Qin scrutinized Li Xiaoran again. Beneath the fiery hair was a beautiful face, but what drew Jiang Qin’s gaze most was her voluptuous figure—the full, high curves supported by her arms made Jiang Qin involuntarily feel inferior—there was too great a gap. Yet it also stirred a stronger sense of threat within her.

Just then, Li Xiaoran seemed to sense something, tilted her head slightly, and met Jiang Qin’s gaze. Her chewing motion slowed slightly.

The two women stared at each other—five seconds, maybe fifteen—then simultaneously looked away.

Seeing Li Xiaoran hadn’t left after her audition, Jiang Qin grew even more irritated. She exhaled deeply and said to Chen Shasha beside her:

“Shasha, why don’t you go home first? I’ll tell you the moment I hear anything.”

Chen Shasha hesitated. She’d wanted to wait and try to catch Wu Yuchen’s eye again, but now that Jiang Qin had said it, she nodded.

Another hour passed. Everyone had finished their auditions and left. Wu Yuchen walked out with a few others, instructing them on tomorrow’s auditions for the male lead and supporting roles.

“Alright, if you haven’t been contacted yet, try again. Follow today’s process.”

Just as they stepped outside, he noticed Jiang Qin and Li Xiaoran standing in the hallway—his heart skipped. Why hadn’t either of them left?

Jiang Qin saw Wu Yuchen’s companions greet him and leave, then stepped forward and whispered: “Who is that girl over there? How did she know exactly how Lola should dress?”

At that same moment, Li Xiaoran walked over with long strides.

Seeing Li Xiaoran approach, Wu Yuchen held his breath for an instant, then smiled easily:

“This is my sister Ranran.”

“Ranran, this is Jiang Qin.”

Hearing Wu Yuchen’s introduction, Jiang Qin suddenly remembered: last year, on Wu Yuchen’s birthday, he’d called a “Sister Ranran,” saying she was his cousin.

Her heart instantly relaxed—all her earlier irritation vanished, replaced by embarrassment. She’d been looking at the woman with hostility just moments ago.

And this was the first time she’d met Wu Yuchen’s family—she absolutely had to make amends, or she’d leave a bad impression!

Jiang Qin quickly switched to a shy, apologetic smile: “Sister Ranran, I didn’t know it was you—I would’ve greeted you right away!”

Li Xiaoran raised an eyebrow, watching Jiang Qin now humbly deferential, and hearing her say “Sister Ranran”—a strange, satisfying thrill surged through her.

Still, she asked: “Do you know who I am?”

Jiang Qin smiled sweetly:

“Wu Yuchen’s cousin—he mentioned you once, but he never said you were an actress. I think you’re perfect for the lead. The moment I saw you, I thought Lola had stepped right out of the script!”

Hearing Jiang Qin praise her so openly, Li Xiaoran felt a strange, pleasant warmth. She nodded, then gave Wu Yuchen a playful glance.

Seeing Li Xiaoran say nothing, Wu Yuchen quickly told Jiang Qin:

“Qin Qin, you don’t need to wait—I still need to discuss the lead role with Ranran.”

Jiang Qin nodded obediently. She’d wanted to ask about Chen Shasha, but now she knew the lead was definitely this “Sister Ranran.” Still, she felt no jealousy—after all, they were family!

After Jiang Qin left, Wu Yuchen took Li Xiaoran to a hotel room he’d rented for these days of auditions.

As soon as they entered, Li Xiaoran lunged at him. Her legs, strong from dancing, lifted her off the ground, wrapping around his waist as she pulled his neck down for a fierce kiss.

Wu Yuchen held her against the wall. Hours passed. Soon, they rolled onto the bed.

…

Lying in Wu Yuchen’s arms, Li Xiaoran slapped his hand that was wandering over her chest:

“Cousin? Is this how you treat your cousin?”

Wu Yuchen didn’t let go, grinning:

“Plenty of people do worse—even today, in some places, cousins still marry.”

“You’re shameless,” Li Xiaoran laughed, scolding him.

Then she shook her head again, her hair brushing his skin, and asked with a smile:

“Looks good, right?”

Wu Yuchen clicked his tongue.

“To be honest, this haircut’s terrible.”

Li Xiaoran froze. Was he also saying her performance didn’t meet Lola’s standard?

Seeing her expression darken, Wu Yuchen guessed her thought—he kissed her cheek:

“Before filming, I’ll get a professional makeup artist to redo your look. This street-level work won’t cut it.”

“Really?!” Li Xiaoran burst into joy, flipping over to pin him down, looking down at him with bright, delighted eyes.

“Don’t you want to act?”

“Yes yes yes!” Li Xiaoran laughed, kissing his face repeatedly.

Wu Yuchen held her and smiled: “If you want something, just tell me! Why hide it? What if you didn’t even pass the first round? I’d end up with you hating me without even knowing why.”

“You were going to invite Gong Li and Ning Jing—I couldn’t compete with them…”

“But when you said neither could come and we’d hold open auditions, I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

“I love Lola so much. For the past few days, I’ve been running every day, training—while I ran, I imagined how Lola would act. If you’ll teach me, I swear I won’t be worse than anyone else!”

Wu Yuchen smiled, rubbing her red hair. In personality, Li Xiaoran truly had Lola’s relentless, single-minded drive.

Poor acting didn’t matter—Li Xiaoran wasn’t like those post-era actresses who were lazy and unteachable. Left to her own devices, her later performances were no worse than those from the Beijing Film Academy’s Class of ’96.

So what? Teaching a female actor?

Wu Yuchen now had the resources to properly train her. If money ran out, he’d add more—he’d make sure she played Lola perfectly!

The next day, after the male lead auditions, some still hadn’t left.

Sun Honglei begged Wu Yuchen: “Wu Dao, just give me a chance! I grew up among thugs—I know exactly how to play one!”

“You’d turn into a gang boss—no money, just kill the boss and take over. Your vibe’s all wrong,” Wu Yuchen waved him off.

“No way, Wu Dao! I’m a coward—I wouldn’t even dare raise my head if told to crouch!”

Seeing Sun Honglei still pleading, Wu Yuchen patted his shoulder and sighed:

“Hong Lei, it’s not that I won’t give you a chance—it’s your height and build. They rule you out.”

“This film is about Lola saving her boyfriend. The male lead, as the one being saved, can’t be taller or more imposing than the female lead—you’re too tall.”

Sun Honglei, hearing Wu Yuchen say it so plainly, stopped arguing. He sighed sadly, then forced a smile:

“Wu Dao, if you ever need someone for a fitting role, I’m always ready!”

Sun Honglei had now acted in two of Wu Yuchen’s films. “Car 44” made him famous at school—teachers and classmates praised him, and he no longer felt ashamed of being a “listener.”

“The Night the Comet Came” not only won Best Picture at the Sydney Film Festival, but also earned solid box office and reviews in China, prompting other crews to approach Sun Honglei.

Sun Honglei knew who had transformed his career. When news came that Wu Yuchen had won a major award at the Tokyo Film Festival, his trust—and even worship—of Wu Yuchen became absolute. He’d do anything to act in his films.

After finally seeing off Sun Honglei, Wu Yuchen turned his thoughts again to the male lead.

The male lead was a thug who lost his boss’s money and was threatened with death unless he recovered it—hence Lola’s endless running.

Besides not being much taller than Li Xiaoran, the actor couldn’t be too handsome; he had to embody the thug’s aura, yet not be so repulsive the audience hated him—the balance had to be perfect.

In the end, Wu Yuchen chose Fu Dalong.

His physical appearance meets the requirements, and his acting is excellent; his age is also just right.

Duan Long actually came to audition too, but to be honest, in terms of audition performance, Duan Long currently falls short of Fu Dalong. Fu Dalong’s extensive acting experience since childhood is simply beyond Duan Long’s reach.

Fu Dalong can portray a retired soldier brimming with grit in *The Tianshun Dog*, appearing towering and formidable, yet also play the humble, subservient shopboy Liu Liu in *Young Bao Qingtian*—truly adaptable, never feeling out of place.

After seeing his audition performance, Wu Yuchen had already decided he was the male lead.

As for Chen Kun, not to mention whether Cui Xinqin will let him go, his acting is currently far inferior. He has no intention of taking on another burden while guiding Li Xiaoran.