*

Without a script or lines, just a single sentence, he was asked to perform this scene, which was indeed not easy.

This means he needs to think of his own lines and imagine the complex psychology of a tyrannical emperor when his power collapses.

After reading the note, Song Beiting slowly folded it in half, then in half again.

Everyone was watching him, but then he suddenly walked to a corner, picked up an ordinary chair, and placed it in the center.

He sat down, casually placing his hands on his lap, one in front of the other, and then closed his eyes.

Three seconds later.

When he opened his eyes again.

His entire aura has completely changed.

He transformed from a decorative actor, whom Zhang Wen and others thought was only suitable for playing a cold and aloof immortal, into an emperor who seemed to have truly once ruled the world.

And that simple chair was transformed into the dragon throne at the pinnacle of power.

His posture remained unchanged, and his face was still the same, strikingly beautiful.

He simply sat there, chin slightly raised, giving people the illusion that he should be wearing a crown and that trembling courtiers should be kneeling at his feet.

Moreover, Zhang Wen felt a tremor in his heart that made him afraid to look him in the eye.

Yes, emperors are not to be looked at directly!

He unconsciously looked away, avoiding those eyes.

This feeling was too strange. The other party was clearly a newcomer actor in his early twenties who had never acted in a serious play, yet he, a director who was used to big scenes, dared not look directly at him.

But the oppressive aura in those eyes was so real, as if they had truly experienced the bloodshed and carnage of the imperial palace.

"Is this... the majesty of an emperor?" the producer murmured to himself, his pen unconsciously drawing many messy lines on the paper.

"My esteemed ministers..."

"You all look quite presentable today."

He spoke, his voice not loud, but it made everyone present, except for Nan Qing, unconsciously tense up.

He leaned forward slightly and began to rhythmically tap his knee with his right index finger.

Every tap was terrifying.

Suddenly, the tapping stopped.

"abdicate?"

He chuckled softly and slowly stood up.

It was just a simple action, yet it made Zhang Wen and the others hold their breath once again.

Song Beiting's gaze swept over Zhang Wen and the others, a beautiful yet chilling smile playing on his lips.

"OK."

He stared at Zhang Wen, taking steps forward, each heavy footstep feeling like it was pounding on everyone's nerves.

Finally, he stopped in front of Zhang Wen.

He lowered his eyes, and the clarity in them vanished, replaced by an extreme, suppressed ferocity that even made the air in the space thicken.

"As long as you."

"To live until then..."

After saying this, Song Beiting suddenly curled his lips into a smile that was breathtakingly beautiful, yet also chilling.

Zhang Wen felt a chill creep up his spine and straight to the top of his head.

When Song Beiting's unfathomable eyes looked down at him, he felt as if an invisible knife was pressed against his throat.

He looked up and met that gaze; the instant their eyes met, he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

He suddenly stood up, wanting to back away, but forgot that he was still sitting in the chair.

"Bang—"

The chair crashed to the ground, and the sound pulled him out of his panic.

At this moment, Song Beiting also took a step back, and in the blink of an eye, he returned to his previous aloof and distant appearance, as if the chilling tyrant had never existed.

"Sorry, I got too into the role."

He spoke calmly, his voice regaining its usual clarity.

Zhang Wen remained silent for several seconds before finally finding his voice. He chuckled dryly and bent down to help himself up in his chair.

"No, no need to apologize, haha, you performed very well."

“Jing Heng, that’s Jing Heng!” the screenwriter suddenly said, his eyes fixed on Song Beiting.

Zhang Wen glanced at her, then turned to look at the producer and assistant director.

"Not bad, the performance just now was just like..." The assistant director frowned, speechless for a moment, feeling that no matter what words he used, they were not quite right.

"Possessed!" the producer interjected.

"Yes, that's right, it's possession!" the assistant director excitedly agreed. "It's like he really was possessed by Jing Heng!"

Before Song Beiting, seventeen actors had auditioned for the role.

Most of the new actors were inexperienced and reserved, portraying the tyrant as if he were a child throwing a tantrum.

The veteran actors are skilled, but they always seem to lack the sharpness that a young emperor should have.

Several actors delivered highly expressive performances, perfectly capturing the tyrant's madness, but something was always missing.

Until Song Beiting appeared.

Zhang Wen still felt lingering fear when he recalled that moment.

When the young actor looked down at him, he truly felt a sense of fear, as if he were being judged by an emperor.

He looked up again at Song Beiting, who was standing quietly in the center.

At this moment, he exuded tranquility, without a trace of superfluous emotion. Seeing this, Zhang Wen couldn't help but show an expression of appreciation in his eyes.

He turned to look at Nan Qing: "President Ning, you have a good eye. Give him some time, and it seems you'll have to change the leader of your Illusion."

With these words, everyone's eyes turned to Nan Qing, who was sitting in the middle.

Although everyone has a lot of contact with Illusion Media, a subsidiary of the Ning Group, the chairman of the Ning Group is generally not someone they can get in touch with.

Those who knew Nan Qing's identity were secretly amazed. With good acting skills, good looks, and the backing of the chairman of the Ning Group, it would be difficult for this young actor not to become famous.

Upon hearing this, Nan Qing nodded, his pride undisguised: "Of course."

The two simple words made Song Beiting, who had been expressionless, purse his lips and unconsciously raise the corners of his mouth. He quickly lowered his eyelashes and did not respond, but the tips of his fair ears turned a thin blush at a visible speed.

This subtle change did not escape Nan Qing's notice, and upon seeing it, the smile in his eyes deepened.

She stood up and straightened her skirt: "Alright, Director Zhang, I won't watch the rest of the auditions. You decide the casting results; I won't interfere."

Zhang Wen didn't hesitate. Since the actors sent by the other party were so excellent, there was no reason not to do a good deed for such a big spender.

"Mr. Ning, you're too kind. Thank you for coming here in person to oversee things today. But I think the role of Jing Heng is already decided."

He glanced at Zhou Jing, who was standing behind Nan Qing, and said, "Zhou Jing, if there's nothing else, why don't you stay here for a bit? We can discuss the contract details later."

Zhou Jing was not surprised at all and nodded with a smile: "Okay."

Nan Qing just smiled and didn't say much. She looked at Song Beiting and said, "Let's go, I'll take you back to the company."

Song Beiting nodded and quietly followed.