I have a persona specifically for acting.

“Do you need some time to prepare?”

Director Shi asked with concern over the phone.

From his perspective, switching between two entirely different emotional states must be quite mentally taxing. Audition time is precious, and typically, actors wait anxiously for their turn. However, after the first audition, he was willing to wait for Tong Zhao to be ready, as he just wanted to see her in her best state.

Tong Zhao: [Shuyi, are you ready?]
[I’m fine.]
[If I can help you out this time, that would be great.]

Shuyi smiled.

Ever since returning to her original world and stepping back into the entertainment industry, Tong Zhao had been living a relaxed and healthy life, far from negative emotions. This cheerful mental state nourished the journalist—no, Shen Shuyi—allowing her to rediscover her own name.

All of this, she thought, was the system’s fault.

Back then, the system gave Shuyi a task to hand in three news articles, all on dark and brutal subjects.

But Shuyi was the kindest among them, the one who most wanted to pursue justice.

The public needed the truth, and the higher-ups needed to be held accountable by the people.

If a portion of the population could be saved, if younger generations could be warned, and if the voices of the vulnerable could be heard, she would be willing to risk everything, even if it meant crashing and burning.

Thinking of this, Tong Zhao realized that she, too, had a sense of chivalry.

Tong Zhao thanked the director for his consideration. “No need, let’s go straight into it.”

“Alright, I’ll restart the program on my end.”

Without removing the equipment, Tong Zhao once again drifted into a dream.

…

The familiar time and place.

The luxurious club in Jiang City, outside the Hero Mansion.

“Darling, should I follow you inside later?”

Cheng Siwen asked.

All the backstage staff had their eyes on the main character, not sparing even a glance at him.

Now, facing the same lines and the same situation, what kind of different reactions and choices would Tong Zhao make?

Everyone was shocked to discover—

Tong Zhao’s subconscious had conjured a different outfit!

She was dressed in a Burberry trench coat, underneath a simple white shirt—no extra embroidery or logo, just a plain white shirt. Paired with short black dress pants, her long, slender legs were strikingly eye-catching.

There’s no denying it—her height and exceptional body proportions suited this style perfectly.

…

“Wha-wha-what… how did she manage to achieve such a huge psychological shift in such a short time?!”

The head of the modeling team exclaimed in disbelief.

The more professional someone is, the more they can appreciate the marvel that is Tong Zhao, beyond just her outfit change.

Normal subconscious activity tends to solidify in the short term and flow in the long term.

In simpler terms, the moon may become full, and people may change, but the moon doesn’t go from crescent to full in just a few minutes. It’s like certain flashy, unreliable weight-loss drugs that promise you can lose 30 pounds in three days without exercising—the only possible way to achieve that is through amputation.

This was already beyond his comprehension.

Director Shi frowned and said, “Quiet. Let’s discuss it after we’ve finished watching.”

He didn’t care if it made sense. He was only interested in what kind of effect Tong Zhao would show him in her second audition.

The assistant director nodded.

Even without knowing the full truth, he could sense the subtle changes between the two personalities: “This time, the outfit imagined by Tong Zhao’s subconscious seems to have a higher sense of quality.”

After all, Duan Ge (Tong Zhao’s character) was one of Tong Zhao’s personalities that lived a more austere life.

It was hard enough for her to get a decent meal, let alone worry about picking out clothes. She could accept the concept of wearing clothes that suited the occasion, but she wouldn’t think much about the brand or style—comfort and functionality were more important. However, Shuyi, after helping to broker a ceasefire between two nations and returning to the bustling city to receive recognition, was outwardly adorned in high-end fashion, reflecting the admiration and joy of those around her, even though she felt no inner emotion.

“Does Tong Zhao have bad eyesight? This is the first time I’ve seen her wearing glasses,” an assistant wondered.

Not only was she wearing glasses, but they were heavy, thick-framed, black-rimmed glasses.

Tong Zhao’s small face made the glasses look less awkward, lending her a scholarly air while emphasizing her petite features. The large frames seemed to take up nearly a third of her face, accentuating her fair complexion.

The assistant director was unconcerned. “Maybe it’s just a fashionable accessory with no prescription.”

“Is that even fashionable?” another staff member asked, confused.

“She looks good in them, though.”

The assistant director saw no issue, so no one else dared to point out that the glasses really weren’t fashionable. It was only because she had a good figure that they looked good on her…

A script modeling technician checked the database to see if the glasses had a prescription.

It was possible she had been wearing contact lenses before.

Such small data points wouldn’t impact the overall plot.

But when the technician saw the glasses’ data in the system, they gasped.

In the audition scene:

“This time, I’m not well-prepared, but it’ll have to do,” Shuyi glanced at her naive boyfriend and shook her head. “No, you don’t need to follow me. I used last week’s tutoring wages to buy these smart glasses with a recording function. After I come out, just cross-check the faces I record.”

Assistant Director & Director & Scriptwriter & Staff: “…”

Wait, is this what you call ‘not well-prepared’!?

Tong Zhao did indeed have a budget of under 20,000 yuan, as her character was designed to be a frugal and outstanding university student who worked part-time as a tutor. Because she attended a prestigious university, her hourly wage was quite high. Most of her money was methodically saved for the future, as her character hoped to own a house by the age of 30.

At this moment, the technician who had just checked the database chimed in, “Those smart Bluetooth glasses have an HD camera. If you blink four times, it records a shot. Plus, they use bone-conduction headphones, allowing discreet real-time communication with Cheng Siwen.”

The staff members were speechless.

Smart glasses, well, they aren’t exactly new.

When they first came out, they were overhyped, and when people saw how bulky and unattractive they were, combined with the fact that the functionality was far from the hacker-age technology they imagined, they lost interest immediately. Except for a few tech enthusiasts, most people didn’t pay much attention to them, and few realized that they had since become lighter, more stylish, and affordable.

The database had plenty of models to choose from, but the catch was whether the actor could imagine using them. The first two actors didn’t even think of such a method. They only thought about how inconvenient it would be to secretly take photos with a phone, which is why they figured they had to bring the weakling Cheng Siwen along.

Even Duan Ge hadn’t thought of it.

Director Shi pondered, “But this idea doesn’t disrupt the tone of the movie. It’s very much something Xie Guiya would do.”

It’s a clash between modern technology and traditional martial arts, and the protagonist is a modern-day female warrior.

“Other than having the same face, this performance is completely different from her last audition. I don’t think the Tong Zhao from the previous scene would use smart glasses unless someone gave them to her as a prop,” the assistant director analyzed.

Subconscious creativity varies in strength, and it can be field-specific. For example, someone who has been a civil servant in real life, or whose family has been involved in government, might have a keen sense of navigating social interactions. When their subconscious enters a film setting, they might creatively tweak scenes involving interpersonal conflict, which could lead to script changes.

If these tweaks don’t derail the plot, they can actually be positive, reflecting the actor’s subconscious creativity.

In the world of traditional filmmaking, this would be called “improvisation.”

“I’ll be worried if you go in alone,” Cheng Siwen said. Though he was gentle and obedient to his girlfriend, in the script, he played a righteous character. In reality, he was a young, sunny, and handsome actor. Hearing that his girlfriend planned to face danger alone made him feel uneasy.

But objectively speaking, it was indeed better if he didn’t go in.

So how would Tong Zhao resolve this?

Shuyi glanced at her watch and said, “I’ll give you one minute. Come up with a way to help me without causing trouble.”

Cheng Siwen couldn’t think of anything.

She smiled and logged into a cloud account on his phone. “The photos I take will be uploaded to the cloud,” she said, blinking four times. As expected, within ten seconds, a close-up photo of Cheng Siwen’s face appeared in the cloud photo album. “If I encounter any danger I can’t handle, I’ll snap a bunch of meaningless floor photos. Then you…”

“Call the police?”

“No, you’ll take the pictures of their faces that I uploaded and forward them to your QQ account.”

Shuyi spoke with calm, serene eyes set in her strikingly beautiful face.

She continued, “Think about it. Who am I?”

“The heir to the Xie family!”

Cheng Siwen instantly answered, his face lighting up with excitement, like a fanboy seeing his favorite superhero.

“…I’m a university student from Qin who doesn’t want anyone to know I’m moonlighting as a vigilante.”

Shuyi said, “In modern society, there are no hidden warriors. Even the leader of a martial arts alliance has to work a regular job. They inevitably have an open identity. I don’t need you to call the police. I just need them to know that I have pictures of their faces. I don’t believe all three of them would be indifferent to having their identities exposed.”

“As long as one of them cares, the other two will stop him from doing anything reckless.”

Her explanation woke her boyfriend up.

Putting himself in their shoes, Cheng Siwen realized that the other side would be afraid too. This was Shuyi’s way of handling things.

Convinced, Cheng Siwen no longer insisted on going in with her.

As soon as Shuyi entered, she used her smart glasses to take a group photo of the three men.

When the Ma boxer provoked her, Shuyi quickly subdued him as well. However, unlike Duan Ge, she wasn’t as ruthless. She stopped just before hitting a vital point. “Can’t we resolve this peacefully? By now, it’s clear I’m the heir to the Xie family, right?” The Ma boxer pretended to apologize and beg for mercy, hoping to catch her off guard and strike back. But Shuyi, already prepared, kicked him in the knee, forcing him to kneel!

She stepped on his thigh, blinked four more times, and said in an incredibly polite, gentle voice, “It seems you only listen when you’re on your knees.”

As a journalist, Shuyi was used to facing danger in tough situations during interviews.

She knew how to handle thugs. She wasn’t easy to deal with.

She then told the Ma boxer that she had taken his photo and threatened to uncover his real identity, showing him the cloud album on her phone. “Smashing my phone won’t help. The photos are already uploaded to my boyfriend’s device… Of course, I really don’t want to resort to such harsh methods. My father often says that martial arts gatherings are meant to foster friendship, not to indulge in violence.”

The Plum Blossom Swordsman was stunned, shaking his head, “Matters of the martial world should never involve ordinary people.”

In the story’s setting, the Plum Blossom Swordsman is a high school teacher, not a villain, and he is very reluctant to reveal his identity. This is something the protagonist will discover as the main plot unfolds.

Shuyi mimicked his sigh and said, “There’s nothing we can do. Young people these days just don’t follow the old code of honor.”

As expected, there was no fight. Instead, she cleverly steered the conversation toward the movie’s central plot—the theft case—gleaning a lot of information that shouldn’t have been let slip. The Plum Blossom Swordsman, who had been highly guarded around Duan Ge, opened up to Shen Shuyi like a middle-aged man venting his frustrations.

Even the only true villain, the notorious thief Fu Xuancheng, was subtly influenced by her. He impulsively blurted out something meaningful:

“Maybe the person who stole the artifact didn’t actually intend to frame us.”

Shen Shuyi gave him a long, thoughtful look.

…

The audition ended the moment the protagonist and the antagonist’s eyes met.

The entire casting room could hardly believe that the person who had just auditioned twice was the same actor.

The assistant director no longer accused Tong Zhao of trying to grandstand. Instead, he turned to the director and asked, “Director Shi, what’s your evaluation of her second audition?”