Chapter 10: Card Room
Interstellar primarily revolves around a post-apocalyptic world. A virus outbreak has caused human mutations and led to animals taking control of Earth. However, mutated humans either perished or grew stronger, resulting in a conflict between humans and animals. Ultimately, humans reclaimed dominance, established the Black City, and worked hard to restore Earth’s order.
The female protagonist was a natural mutant with the rare ability to give birth to pure, unmutated humans, making her extremely valuable. Because of this, she became a target, necessitating constant protection.
The fourth female character, however, was a plant-based mutant who accompanied the protagonist on her journey to the Black City. Along the way, she fearlessly defeated numerous enemies, only to tragically die about 100 meters from the city. Despite her fate, her character was deeply loved. She was a dodder vine mutant, so crying and entangling were instinctive to her. In her human life, she had been a boxer, giving her a delicate yet naturally powerful persona.
Before arriving, Meng Ying had read the novel and familiarized herself with the fourth female character.
She pushed open the door and entered the audition room, where three people were seated—a director, an assistant director, and a screenwriter. The screenwriter looked slightly surprised upon seeing Meng Ying, while the two directors remained composed. The assistant director flipped through Meng Ying’s resume before gesturing and asking, “How’s your crying scene?”
“How about this scene from when the mutation just started?” The assistant director made a decision with a wave of his hand.
The scene he chose was particularly demanding in terms of crying, as it involved the fourth female character, Jiao Lan, who, when struggling with the consciousness of the dodder vine mutation, sensed its emotions. It was a scene of emotional confrontation, requiring immense tension. Meng Ying had performed crying scenes before, but not as the main character, so it hadn’t attracted much attention. Nonetheless, it wasn’t too difficult for her.
However, in this audition setting, where she had to find the right emotions on the spot and perform in front of the three people who could decide her fate, it was a big challenge.
She nodded and said, “Alright.”
She then chose a spot and sat directly on the floor. With all three of them watching her, Meng Ying placed her hands on the ground and tilted her head back, starting to cry. At first, her tears were silent, but slowly, they became audible. Her body trembled slightly, as if resisting the overwhelming will.
Her hands curled into fists, nails digging into the floor. She tilted her head, biting down on the collar of her shirt, bearing the struggle as tears continued to fall.
Meng Ying was very beautiful, with a gentle beauty that lacked any aggression but drew people’s attention effortlessly.
When someone like her became emotional or cried, the impact was immense. Everyone was focused on her face, her fingers, the way she bit her collar, her neck—mesmerized by it. Meng Ying’s crying scene unfolded in stages. Her fingers lost their grip on the floor as the tears fell faster. She lifted her head again.
Through her tear-filled eyes, she suddenly locked gazes with a pair of raised-eyebrow eyes. She froze for a moment, then focused—Xu Dian was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, wearing a black shirt, quietly watching her cry.
When did he come in? Why is he here?
Meng Ying’s mind faltered for a second, almost losing her emotional focus. She quickly regained composure, bringing herself into the final stage of the scene. She tightly bit her finger, letting out muffled sobs between her teeth.
The two directors and the screenwriter were visibly moved, with goosebumps rising on their arms. But they remained riveted, watching her performance with such intensity. Her acting, her tears, her entire face conveyed such vulnerability that it made them want to rush forward and help her. They were captivated, almost drawn into her emotional state—her feelings were contagious.
Once the scene ended, Meng Ying let go, her forehead beaded with sweat. She glanced at the three people before her, her peripheral vision catching Xu Dian. He was slowly lowering his head, lighting a cigarette. Even his stillness was magnetic.
The director set aside Meng Ying’s resume and replied conservatively, “Very good. Please wait for further notice.”
“Thank you, Director.” Meng Ying wiped the sweat from her forehead and bowed in gratitude.
She then turned and walked out, not glancing at Xu Dian.
After the audition room door closed, the director turned to Xu Dian. “Mr. Xu, what do you think?”
Xu Dian raised his head, curling his lips into a smile. “You decide. Why ask me?”
The director laughed, jokingly adding, “Miss Meng’s crying scene was truly moving.”
The assistant director and screenwriter nodded, exchanging a look before marking something on Meng Ying’s resume. Xu Dian, however, remained silent. He lifted his gaze and scanned the spot where Meng Ying had been crying—the position of her arms, skin, thighs, waist, neck, lips, and cheeks—every detail was even more impressive than in the bed scene.
He tugged at his shirt collar, a bead of sweat appearing on his long neck.
He turned and twisted the doorknob, preparing to leave, but his phone rang from his pocket. He answered it, and the voice on the other end said something.
His expression shifted slightly, and he strode out swiftly.
Meng Ying had left the audition room quickly, her heartbeat racing, nearly twisting her ankle in the process. She had to lean on the door to steady herself, waiting for the pain to subside before she hurried out. Liu Qin was waiting for her at the door, and as soon as she saw Meng Ying, she asked, “How did it go?”
“Wait for the notice,” Meng Ying replied.
“Okay, but how do you think you did?” Liu Qin wasn’t giving up, probing further. Meng Ying linked her arm with Liu Qin’s and smiled. “Maybe an eight out of ten.”
“Only that much?” Liu Qin was dissatisfied, but the two of them had already gone downstairs. Liu Qin answered a call, spat, and said, “The traffic’s bad outside. We’ll have to walk across the road to where the car is parked.”
“Alright.”
The two of them walked out of the lobby and hadn’t gone far when they prepared to cross the road. Suddenly, screams erupted behind them, followed by shouts to call an ambulance and a general commotion.
Meng Ying and Liu Qin turned back simultaneously. Meng Ying instinctively covered her mouth with her mask. At the entrance of the building, a woman in a white dress was sitting on the ground, clutching her stomach. A pool of blood spread beneath her as the surrounding crowd exclaimed about a miscarriage, urging for an ambulance.
From a distance, Meng Ying noticed a faint flash of red near the woman’s ear, but her view was quickly obstructed by the gathering crowd. Liu Qin grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the road. As they walked briskly, Liu Qin muttered, “She must’ve had a miscarriage. That’s terrifying.”
Meng Ying responded with a soft “Mm.”
She quickly refocused her thoughts. Before getting into the car, she vaguely caught a glimpse of a figure in black emerging from the lobby. The car door closed, blocking her view entirely. Meng Ying didn’t linger on it, instead leaning back against the seat, rubbing her neck, and closing her eyes to rest.
The car started and took her home.
Meng Ying still had one day left in her break. Afterward, she had two endorsement deals and some scripts to review and discuss. Her plan was to stay at home and rest. However, Liu Qin called in the evening and suggested they go out to relax. Over the phone, Liu Qin said, “I got a membership card for the top club in Li City. It’s a one-time opportunity. Let’s go play some cards? You’re always by yourself—be careful not to get depressed from being cooped up all the time.”
Meng Ying didn’t have many friends, and Liu Qin was well aware of that.
After a moment’s hesitation, Meng Ying said, “Places like that… If I go out…”
“Don’t worry about it! It’s all people from our company. Someone with a card is already there. Let’s go, I’ll pick you up. Just dress casually—don’t overdo it.”
“Alright.” Meng Ying chose a simple outfit of wide-legged pants and a cropped top that exposed a bit of her midriff. She paired it with white sneakers and a cap.
Shortly after, Liu Qin arrived and seemed very satisfied with her outfit and look.
Once they got into the car, it headed toward the city center. The Starry Sky Club was Li City’s most exclusive club. Entry required an invitation card, which was notoriously difficult to obtain, as the club only issued them through direct invitation.
After arriving at the club, Liu Qin received a phone call. From the conversation, it was clear it was someone from her company. The agency Meng Ying was with was quite small. Due to its size, resources were scarce, and the benefits weren’t great. However, the relationships among the staff, from the boss to the employees, were pleasant.
It was also Liu Qin’s first time at this place. She was nervous as she handed over the card and held Meng Ying’s hand as they entered. The card room was on the third floor, accessible by elevator. Opening one of the doors, they were met with a faint scent of sandalwood. The lighting in the room was dim, and the decor, including carved screens, leaned heavily into a vintage style.
Mixed with the sandalwood aroma was the scent of nicotine—not unpleasant but rather adding a mysterious allure.
Clicking her tongue, Liu Qin remarked, “All the rich heirs of Licheng seem to be here.”
Meng Ying hummed in response but didn’t see any of these young heirs since most were hidden behind screens. Instead, she only heard teasing male voices and occasional female laughter, which added an unexpected charm to the atmosphere.
As they neared the door of their own company’s room, a clear male voice suddenly came from a dark red sandalwood screen nearby:
“Xu Dian, are you planning to destroy us tonight?”
“Exactly, Young Master Xu, you seem to be in a bad mood—we can all see it!”
Hearing this, Meng Ying froze for a moment.
Xu Dian.
He was here? And in a bad mood? Why?
Liu Qin also stopped, surprised. She whispered to Meng Ying, “Young Master Xu, from the Xu family in Licheng… What are the chances? Isn’t he the one who’s really handsome? Can I take a look?”
Meng Ying nudged her. “How would you even look?”
“Like this.” Liu Qin dragged Meng Ying and tiptoed to peek through the eye-shaped carvings on the ornate screen. Each of them peered through one, conveniently positioned at the eyes of an animal design.
Through the opening, they saw Xu Dian leaning lazily against the wall, a cigarette between his lips. He was smoking heavily, exhaling thick plumes of smoke. Holding a card in his hand, his peach blossom eyes were devoid of emotion, his brow faintly furrowed in impatience. It was clear he was in a bad mood.
“Out of all of them, which one is it? But the guy leaning against the wall is really handsome… Is it him?” Liu Qin exclaimed.
It was him.
Meng Ying’s breath caught. She stared at his face and his visibly poor mood. He usually wore a faint, nonchalant smile, even when he didn’t feel like expressing himself. It gave him an air of sophistication and roguish charm. It was rare to see him like this.
What could have upset him? Just as he seemed about to look up, Meng Ying yanked Liu Qin down and said, “Let’s go…”
Liu Qin nodded. The people here weren’t ones to mess with—a glance was enough. She pulled Meng Ying towards their company’s area. Just as they were about to step inside, a man stepped out from the neighboring screen.
The man was dressed in a white shirt and black trousers. His posture was casual, and he locked eyes with Meng Ying. He raised an eyebrow and tapped his phone against his hand, as if trying to recall who she was. Meng Ying didn’t understand his meaning. She merely nodded, hurriedly pulling up her mask, and entered their company’s screen.
Zhou Yang glanced at the woman who had brushed past him.
A few seconds later, realization dawned. He chuckled, turned, and entered Xu Dian’s area, where the mood had turned more somber.
Jiang Yu, seated with his long legs propped against the table, tossed down his cards and said, “Come on, she had a miscarriage. It’s obvious Li Yi isn’t good to her. Why don’t you take this chance to win her back? You’re not completely without hope.”
The other two men remained silent; this wasn’t a topic they could comment on. Xu Dian, with a cigar between his fingers, stayed quiet. His thin lips emitted a faint trace of smoke as he continued to play cards. His expression was dark and slightly hostile.
When Zhou Yang entered, he listened for a while before leaning over to whisper something to Xu Dian.
Xu Dian’s hand paused momentarily, but he quickly resumed his game. His low voice carried a faint chuckle, though it didn’t reach his throat. “If she’s here, then so be it.”
Meng Ying rarely played Dou Di Zhu and was clueless in card games, often making amusing mistakes that entertained her colleagues.
The company boss pointed at Meng Ying, laughing, and said, “Good thing you’re pretty; otherwise, you’d be completely useless.”
The others burst into laughter, with Liu Qin laughing so hard she was making clicking noises. Meng Ying’s face turned red from the teasing, and she felt like quitting. Frustrated, she said, “Can you guys stop laughing already…”
But they only laughed harder. Annoyed, Meng Ying pulled up her mask. Just as she was about to play her card, the laughter suddenly ceased, and everyone stared blankly behind her. She froze for a moment, and before she could react, the card in her hand was taken by a slender, well-defined hand. She jerked her head up and was met with a pair of smiling, peach-blossom eyes.
With her mask on, only her bare face and eyes were visible. There was no makeup—no eyeshadow or eyeliner—just a pair of clear, water-like eyes, so pure that they could draw people in completely.
Xu Dian gazed at her for several seconds, his already faint smile gradually fading. He tilted his head slightly, breaking eye contact, and glanced at the card he had taken from her. “So bad at cards? I could hear your laughter all the way from next door.”
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