Chapter One Hundred and Twenty: Focus! The Main Event Unfolds!

The scores these few received were largely thanks to their director, Wang Dagang, who was truly indispensable for Lin Yubai and Wen Yan. If it weren’t for his eloquence, picking out the few merits in their performance, everyone might have unanimously given them negative points. One must admit: those in the literary world are remarkable. The ability to bend concepts and call a stag a horse is truly impressive.

From this, it's clear the judges aren’t absolutely impartial. At the very least, Wang Dagang will certainly shield Lin Yubai and Wen Yan moving forward. After all, their purpose here is to promote a new show. If the two actors perform poorly, the show’s viewership would be in jeopardy.

Afterward, the other groups took the stage in turn. Their performances ranged from brilliant to lackluster. Some actors managed to turn the tide alone, while others were mediocre overall, lacking any highlights, yet still managed to finish the play respectably.

Overall, the stage effect was quite good.

Soon, it was Bai Ling’s turn!

As Bai Ling prepared to go on stage, the atmosphere in the room became more heated. Not because anyone started cheering or applauding, but because all eyes instinctively fell upon her, the intensity of their gaze creating an invisible pressure that felt almost suffocating.

Clearly, most of the actors participating in the show were well aware of the off-stage tensions. Among so many actors, Bai Ling was undoubtedly the focal point. Their attention was only natural—perhaps they were about to witness a spectacular drama.

Wen Yan’s expression was the most animated. She was worried Bai Ling might perform well, but also remembered the immense difficulty of the script Bai Ling was set to perform—a challenge completely different from everyone else’s. Her face gradually relaxed, convinced Bai Ling would surely fail.

She even looked forward to the opportunity to ask questions, so she could ridicule Bai Ling thoroughly. After all she’d been through, Wen Yan had already abandoned all pretense of cordiality or feigned sisterhood with Bai Ling for the sake of publicity. She found Bai Ling disagreeable; as long as Bai Ling faltered, Wen Yan would be delighted.

Director Wang Dagang, one of the judges, shared Wen Yan’s thoughts. Watching Bai Ling and her group ascend the stage, his eyes narrowed. The upcoming critique would surely be fierce and sharp. Riding on Bai Ling’s popularity, he could stir up quite a buzz for his new show—an opportunity he had no reason to pass up.

Meanwhile, the live comment section was filled with fans’ anticipation and rival groups’ disparagement.

Whether it was Wen Yan’s small circle of fans or Lin Yubai’s supporters, both sides were firing on all cylinders. Even some casual viewers, who’d heard about Bai Ling’s supposed laziness, joined in the chorus of doubts. It’s clear that the more attention one garners, the more trouble comes along with it.

Yet, Bai Ling maintained a calm state of mind from the start. Though the past months hadn’t brought her many experiences, they were deeply profound. If one becomes overly concerned with others’ opinions, letting them affect oneself, that would truly be a mistake.

However, her partners didn’t share this composure. Even Lin Yani, with years of acting experience, appeared nervous. For them, this stage mattered greatly.

Tap!

The lights dimmed, moonlight poured like water. The sound of waves echoed, as if crashing against the deck—steel clashing with iron, evoking a vision of foaming surf.

The actors entered in turn. The audience focused on the plot and stage.

According to their understanding, the opening scene featured Bai Ling as the heroine, Yang Zichao as the male lead, and two supporting actresses, all embroiled in a dispute within the ship’s cabin. The topic, unmistakably, revolved around “women.”

“Fiona! You shouldn’t have acted that way just now!”

“It’s simply disgraceful!”

“So many guests, all laughing at us!”

Lin Yani played the mother of Bai Ling’s character—the stepmother. Her tone was therefore harsh.

Yan Feixue played the stepmother’s own daughter, Fiona’s sister. She echoed, “Mother, she’s always been like this—completely ignorant of etiquette and decorum.”

“Today, our family’s reputation is ruined. I wonder why Father brought her aboard this ship!”

“What will the nobles say about us in the future?”

Their contempt and disdain were unmistakable.

Faced with this, Bai Ling—though angered—also showed helplessness.

In the plot, her character Fiona was reminiscent of Cinderella, raised under persistent oppression from her stepmother and sister.

“If humiliating me, treating me like a courtesan, is truly your wish, then indeed I have acted improperly!”

“Though I am a woman, I am not someone to be trampled upon!”

“I care little for your opinions.”

“Henry, will you continue in silence, as you did just now?”

Yang Zichao played Henry, Fiona’s boyfriend. Compared to the noblewoman Fiona, he was unremarkable—merely handsome. In the story, Fiona was drawn in by Henry’s looks, a hint of talent, and sweet words. Yet at the recent party, she—eldest daughter of a noble family—was harassed by so-called aristocrats.

Henry was unmoved, his face dark, always watching from the sidelines—just as now.

Thus, Bai Ling’s Fiona was filled with resentment and anger. With a few lines, shifting tone and delivery, her dissatisfaction and accusation were vividly expressed.

It may not have reached perfection, but the directors present were captivated. The aura had arisen!

Simply by straightening her back, the Western aristocrat’s elaborate attire was displayed to perfection, and Bai Ling’s Fiona became the center of attention. Her presence instantly overshadowed the stepmother’s complaints and the sister’s sarcasm.

Even Yang Zichao, as her counterpart, seemed “intimidated” into silence. In truth, it was a slip in his performance. Henry’s character would never submit to Fiona, having only been attracted by her status. The audience noticed this, but fortunately, Yang Zichao managed to deliver his lines, albeit somewhat stammered and awkward.

“Fiona, everyone behaves thus. Why must you be so different?”

“Don’t make a scene!”

“Calm yourself!”

Henry retreated, striding away. The stepmother and sister also left.

Fiona stood alone.

Moonlight played, cold and desolate.

Under the lonely moon, waves surged.

The audience’s attention sharpened again.

All that had come before was but a mere appetizer. The real highlight was about to begin: the heroine’s solo dance beneath the moon—the pivotal moment of this classic old film. With no lines, it conveyed the social environment of the time in a searing indictment, and revealed the protagonist’s inner world in full.

It was precisely this scene that allowed the film to win numerous awards, despite an otherwise unremarkable plot. It was not an exaggeration to say the actress carried the entire film with her superb performance.

And this, too, was the difficulty of tonight’s performance!

(End of chapter)