I have a persona specifically for acting.

Chapter 13



The agent tried to persuade Tong Zhao for a while but couldn’t change her mind.

Coincidentally, the assistant director from the crew of *Countdown 72 Hours*, who was a friend of hers, was contacted to find out why the invitation was extended to Tong Zhao. The assistant director explained straightforwardly that the team felt Tong Zhao was particularly suited for the role, especially since Xu Zhu, who plays the younger sister in the female lead’s role, strongly recommended her!

Well, it seemed like the whole world had lost its mind.

Sister Chu felt like she was the only sane person in the world, surrounded by confusion.

Sister Chu had no choice but to call Tong Zhao again: “It’s strange, the assistant director from *Countdown 72 Hours* said they thought you were perfect for the role, and it seems that Xu Zhu, who plays the second female lead, strongly recommended you. Do you know her?”

Tong Zhao: “Yes, I know her. We have a grudge.”

“Oh, a grudge? No wonder… huh????”

As Sister Chu was surprised, Tong Zhao had already figured it out—

Xu Zhu was plotting something.

A good lead role opportunity is something a newcomer would dream of. Moreover, Feng Yanqi’s character is outstanding, and if performed well, it could overshadow everyone else. Xu Zhu personally endorsing it likely means she wants to use this opportunity to undermine Tong Zhao.

But can Tong Zhao really perform well?

Xu Zhu doesn’t think so.

On the other end, the agent’s displeasure was evident: “It’s a good thing I asked; otherwise, we would have stepped into a pitfall. I’ll decline the invitation now. We won’t work with Xu Zhu or any of her associated projects in the future.” Sister Chu didn’t delve into the details of their grudge, as such situations are too common in the entertainment industry. She always respects the artists’ wishes, and being forced into roles is the worst thing.

“There’s no need to decline. I’m taking this role.”

Based on Tong Zhao’s understanding of Xu Zhu, she isn’t someone who would rely on underhanded tactics.

Using such a direct approach means her options for covert actions are limited.

That’s a good thing.

Tong Zhao sat on the bed, applying transparent nail polish while discussing the details with her agent over the phone.

Consort Chen was displeased: “Red isn’t pretty at all. It’s like not wearing any at all.”

Han Zhi: “I think it looks quite good.”

Consort Chen: “Who’s playing the role this time? Is it the Lu surname or Xiao Ge?”

After hanging up the phone, Tong Zhao finally had time to join the meeting: “Originally, Lu Xianchang would have been fine, but now that I know it’s my cheap stepsister playing the lead role’s younger sister… It can only be Duan Ge.”

A female reporter commented wryly: “If Old Lu were in the role, Xu Zhu wouldn’t last five minutes. She definitely wouldn’t be able to handle the protective sister scenes.”

Lu Xianchang had no way to refute this.

She hated being betrayed by acquaintances the most and probably couldn’t stand Xu Zhu bouncing around in front of her for even a second in the indulgent movie. The drama would be too severe, though the entertainment value would be high…

“Duan Ge, is that alright?”

From the depths of her subconscious, a gentle, slightly hoarse voice surfaced:

“Of course, I’m very willing to serve Zhao Zhao.”

Duan Ge.

Her voice had become slightly fragmented due to a mild infection from the zombie virus.

Tong Zhao’s mission in the post-apocalyptic scenario was not to pursue anyone but to save three key characters. She also managed to establish a settlement in the apocalypse and, as a side note, caused the heroine who was supposed to be happily paired with the male lead to fall for her instead… but that’s another story. In any case, among her many derived personalities, this one had the strongest protective instinct toward women.

“Alright, thank you.”

In the dead of night, only her sea of consciousness was lively.

Tong Zhao hugged her knees and let the nail polish on her hands dry, as if embracing herself.

@Countdown72HoursV:

The last piece of the fugitive team puzzle has been found [heart][heart]

[Give me three minutes. I need to know the details of this actor in three minutes.]

[How can you discuss things if you don’t finish talking, big brother? Don’t you want the water that’s coming to you?]

[“It’s rare to find an actor who can portray Feng Yanqi well! Lin Shu and Chen Yijie are both quite capable, but weren’t their schedules mismatched?”]

[Look, the official account just followed a new actress!]

One word wakes people from their dreams. The name in the latest follow on the official account dazzled netizens—

@Tong ZhaoV

Is it actually her?

Since she had just debuted, many people didn’t even remember her name, only her face. As soon as they saw that delicate face, they knew it was the Consort. She had a high approval rating from the public.

High approval rating aside, the image of Consort Chen and the character Feng Yanqi just doesn’t match!

In a semi-reality show film like “Countdown 72 Hours,” each actor gets a corresponding character template but no specific action instructions, only general guidance.

In contrast, in “The Chronicle of Emperor Ming,” actors know exactly what to do at certain times and places.

In “Countdown 72 Hours,” actors have a lot of freedom within a set framework, so some predecessors have delivered particularly impressive performances. For example, in “The Court of Storms,” the high degree of freedom allowed for intense rivalries that escalated to the level of six great kingdoms, which is still fondly discussed by drama fans today.

[Oh, this?]

[No, you can’t just pick someone based on recent popularity; it’s a recipe for disaster!]

[You need to think carefully. Feng Yanqi has the heaviest workload in the drama. If the lead actress can’t handle it, the whole group could face a disastrous ending.]

[Consort’s agent, please be more thoughtful. Don’t just grab at the first opportunity; you need to use your brain.]

[Agent: Use my brain? What does that mean?]

……

Seeing these doubts about the agent’s choices, Chu Jie’s mood deteriorated slightly.

She had put a lot of thought into it, but the artist has her own ideas.

Tong Zhao felt that this role was tailor-made for her, so what could she do?

With the Tong family’s connections backing her, Chu Jie inexplicably found herself on this fast track, and the production team quickly confirmed Tong Zhao’s leading role. The promotion followed swiftly, making everything feel like the joy of “having influential people making things happen.” Xu Zhu’s plan to tarnish Tong Zhao’s reputation and make her untouchable was to boost her fame before the shoot began.

In “Countdown 72 Hours,” besides the lead character, there are also two other female roles.

If Tong Zhao doesn’t perform well, the spotlight will shift to Xu Zhu, so the current promotion is definitely not a waste, but rather a significant gain. Xu Zhu knew Tong Zhao too well. Even if Tong Zhao was indeed quite stubborn, her stubbornness was of the high-born kind.

Just like a delicate and fragile violin, even if it produces a powerful melody, it’s still not the same thing.

In Xu Zhu’s eyes, Tong Zhao was still the same as before—unable to handle provocations.

A little agitation or provocation would make her stubbornly accept a challenge with slim chances of success.

She simply wouldn’t be able to perform well in “Countdown 72 Hours.”

The comments on that Weibo post were chaotic, with the majority expressing disapproval of Tong Zhao’s casting.

As a newcomer, Tong Zhao was discussed with a somewhat condescending tone. Most people mocked her for overestimating herself, daring to take on any role, and being overjoyed at landing a leading role without considering if she was capable of handling the type of character.

[Trying to plant trees in the Empress’s heart, growing some pressure trees.]

[Not interested in watching anymore. Does anyone want the movie tickets I won from the lottery?]

[I want them! Why would anyone not want to watch? I’m curious to see how the Empress performs in an apocalyptic survival film. Isn’t the appeal of a live-streamed, instinctual movie in the unpredictable excitement of what might go wrong next?]

The forums were abuzz with heated discussions.

The director didn’t hire any trolls, but Xu Zhu did invest a bit to stir things up, adding fuel to the fire. The criticism was incessant.

“Let’s open the discussion: what kind of plot twists do you expect from this apocalyptic film?”

“Laughing my head off, wasn’t Sister Tang still hyping up this role a few days ago? The choice of the lead actress is just ridiculous.”

Tang Jingjie, the male lead of “Countdown 72 Hours,” was making his debut as the main character. Fans had been excited for days, only to be met with this shocking turn of events—

From a highly anticipated Valentine’s Day release to what looks like a guaranteed flop.

Which fanbase can tolerate this?

Sister Tang couldn’t take it and had to rush to the production team, privately messaging the director to reconsider.

The director, an old-school type, felt that today’s star-chasing young girls were naive and preferred to listen to familiar opinions. Since the familiar source was one who had received benefits from Xu Zhu—using Tong Zhao meant the entire promotion was taken care of by capital—it seemed like a good deal. The director shut down his Weibo and stopped paying attention.

With nowhere else to turn, Sister Tang and her team didn’t give up and desperately sought out a final option.

So, Tong Zhao opened Weibo and found that both her private messages and comments were flooded.

They were all pleas for her not to take the role.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.