He plays Feng Yuxiu, and his girlfriend is a fairy-like beauty.

Simultaneously.

When Zhang Yu received the call, she was squatting on the balcony of her rented apartment, smoking.

It's called a balcony.

It's actually just an iron frame that extends less than half a meter out.

Two T-shirts that weren't completely dry were hanging on the clothesline. Below were the community's trash cans, and above that, three or four identical metal racks were sticking out.

The voice of his girlfriend, Zhou Xiaoyi, came from inside the house.

"Zhang Yu! Your phone is ringing!"

Who is it?

"I don't know, it's an unfamiliar number!"

Zhang Yu stubbed out her cigarette, turned over, and jumped into the house.

A landline number from Beijing was displayed on the phone screen.

He answered the phone, and a capable female voice came from the other end.

"Hello, are you Ms. Zhang Yu? I am Director Ye Mo's agent."

Zhang Yu's fingers, which were holding the phone, paused for a moment.

Ye Mo.

The director of "Raging Storm".

"it's me."

"Director Ye is preparing a film with a realistic theme, and he would like you to audition for a role in it."

Zhang Yu stood in the living room of her rented apartment, with a takeout box left over from yesterday at her feet that she hadn't had time to throw away yet.

He looked down at the old watch on his wrist, its dial worn and scratched. The second hand was still ticking, but he felt as if time had stopped for a moment.

My heart was filled with unease for a long time.

Ye Mo! He's the hottest director in the industry right now, bar none.

He single-handedly made several supporting characters in "The Storm Riders" famous.

After suppressing his excitement, he said...

"What role?"

"A patient."

"What illness?"

"Chronic myeloid leukemia, the character is named Peng Hao, nicknamed Yellow Hair. He doesn't have many lines, but every scene he plays is crucial."

Zhang Yu remained silent for a few seconds.

He recalled his last serious role on the stage, where the performance fee for one show wasn't even enough to cover a month's rent.

Now is the chance.

When is the audition?

Next Wednesday.

"I will definitely be there."

After hanging up the phone, Zhou Xiaoyi peeked out from the kitchen doorway, still clutching a half-peeled potato in her hand.

"Who is it? What Ye Mo?"

"Ye Mo, the director of 'The Storm,' wanted to make a movie and asked me to act in it."

The potato in Zhou Xiaoyi's hand fell into the sink with a thud.

She didn't pick it up, but stared at Zhang Yu for three or four seconds.

"Say it again?"

"Ye Mo asked me to act in a movie."

"The Ye Mo who made Zhang Songwen famous? The Ye Mo who cast Jia Bing as a mob boss?"

"It's him."

Zhou Xiaoyi came out of the kitchen, wiped her hands on her apron, sat on the sofa, and took a deep breath.

"Then what are you standing there daydreaming about? Hurry up and go read the script!"

"The script hasn't been sent yet."

"Then let's go see a movie! Watch everything Ye Mo filmed before! Didn't you say Zhang Songwen prepared for two months before playing Gao Qiqiang? You prepare for two months too!"

Zhang Yu watched her pace back and forth in the living room, gesturing wildly as she said, "Should I buy you some loquat seeds to soothe your throat?" and "I'll take time off to go to the audition with you next week," and her eyes were filled with heartache.

They have lived in this rented house for almost three years.

She never complained.

But he knew about her college classmates in her social circle.

Some couples post photos of their property deeds, some of their new cars, and some of their honeymoon photos from the Maldives.

Zhou Xiaoyi has never posted anything online.

If we're talking about sunbathing, then it's all about sunbathing.

He walked over, picked up the potato that had fallen onto the edge of the sink, and put it back in her hand.

"I will win."

......

the other side.

Zhang Songwen received the script.

He read it for the first time in his study at home.

After finishing the script, he closed it, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling for a long time.

Cheng Yong.

A middle-aged loser selling Indian herbal oil.

His hair was messy, he had a beer belly, his clothes were sloppy, he exuded a vulgar, street-smart vibe, spoke rudely, and had the air of a down-on-his-luck, greasy middle-aged man.

These are just appearances.

What about inside?

He was disillusioned in middle age, divorced his wife, and his son stayed with his ex-wife, who planned to immigrate abroad with their son.

My elderly father has a cerebral aneurysm and urgently needs surgery, but we can't afford the medical expenses.

I owe three months' rent, and the landlord is blocking my door every day to urge me to pay.

Life is a mess, and a single straw can break the camel's back.

Then he discovered Indian generic drugs.

It wasn't to save people.

It's for making money.

Zhang Songwen put the script on the table, stood up, walked to the mirror, and looked at himself in the mirror.

Gao Qiqiang transformed him from a gentle and refined teaching assistant into a ruthless and cunning gangster boss.

This time, he wants to transform himself from a respectable actor into a greasy loser.

It's not the kind of oily look that comes from makeup.

It's the kind of mark that comes out from the cracks in your bones, the marks left on your body after being repeatedly crushed by life.

Zhang Songwen set off early the next morning.

First stop: the entrance of Yanjing Cancer Hospital.

He squatted down next to the jianbing (Chinese crepe) stall across the street, observing the people walking out of the hospital.

Some people were wearing masks and walking heavily, some were pushing wheelchairs with patients receiving IV drips on them, and some were squatting by the roadside making phone calls while wiping the corners of their eyes with the back of their hands.

He squatted there all day.

The next day was another whole day.

On the third day, he went to a shop selling aphrodisiacs.

The shop owner was a bald man in his forties, wearing an old T-shirt with a deformed collar. He sat behind the counter, watching short videos on his phone while picking his nose.

Zhang Songwen spent an afternoon in his shop and bought one bottle of magic oil, two bottles of magic oil, and three bottles of magic oil.

The shop owner finally couldn't hold back any longer.

"Big brother, how much do you want to buy?"

"That's enough! How long have you been running this shop?"

"It's been more than ten years."

"How's business?"

"Enough for a meal."

Zhang Songwen glanced at the old, cracked leather shoes on his feet, then at the enamel mug on the counter that had been used for who knows how many years, before turning his gaze back to his face.

The temperament of this person.

That's exactly what Cheng Yong needs.

Life has worn down all the edges of us, but we still have the will to keep going just to survive.

A week later.

Nanjing.

The crew of "Dying to Survive" booked an entire floor of a budget hotel as their preparation base.

The production manager converted the conference room into a makeshift meeting room.

When Ye Mo arrived, the conference room was already filled with people.

He pushed open the door, but before he even stepped inside, he stood at the doorway and glanced at the people inside.

Zhang Songwen had a head of messy hair, with the ends flipping outwards, clearly indicating that he hadn't taken care of it in a long time.

His face is much rounder than when filming for "The Storm" wrapped up.

Wearing an old polo shirt with a misshapen collar from washing, his stomach stretched the shirt a bit tight, and next to him was a plastic bag that didn't contain a script, but a bag of aphrodisiac oil.

Seeing Ye Mo come in, he raised his hand and scratched his messy head.

Wang Chuanjun sat by the window, looking a little thinner than he had been on the day of the audition.

He hadn't changed his old plaid suit, his cloth bag was on his lap, and his glasses were as thick as the bottoms of two bottles.

Zhang Yu stood in the corner.

She dyed her hair a dull yellow color, and she didn't know if she dyed it herself or if the hair salon did it. A few stray hairs were sticking out next to her ears.

Wearing a faded old denim jacket, he was looking down at the script when he heard the door open and then looked up.

He looked like he had just come out of an internet cafe in some third-tier city.

Ye Mo stood at the door.

His gaze swept from Zhang Songwen to Wang Chuanjun, from Wang Chuanjun to Zhang Yu, and then from Zhang Yu to Zhou Yiwei and Tan Zhuo, who were sitting upright beside him.

Zhou Yiwei is slightly more normal.

Tan Zhuo was wearing an old sweater and holding an unlit cigarette in his hand.

She said it was to find the feeling of the role.

A single mother who pole dances in a bar; cigarettes are her props.

Ye Mo stood there for about three seconds, then turned to look at Sister Zhang who was following behind him.

"Is this some kind of meet-and-greet, or a Beggars' Sect convention?"

......