“Forget it, let’s just go.”

Andrew Brooks bent down and rolled up both pant legs, revealing her pale calves. As she stood up, she noticed the other person staring blankly at her legs and couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and annoyed. “What are you looking at?”

“Why are your legs so thick?”

“Bang!”

Before the umbrella could hit him, that guy had already darted away. “Hurry up, or we’ll be late.”

What an annoying guy! The girl pursed her lips.

Along the way, the two of them carefully avoided the puddles, but by the time they reached the Overseas Chinese Building, they were still damp all over. Brian Clark stood at the door of the room and knocked three times.

“Knock knock knock!”

No one knows who made the rule, but you always have to knock three times.

“Come in!”

He pushed the door open and entered. Inside, it was just like yesterday: a few desks, a set of sofas, and audience letters packed everywhere in burlap sacks.

In addition to Teacher Bai and Teacher Zhang, there was now a short man with jet-black hair and a gentle, refined demeanor, who didn’t look very old.

Brian Clark recognized him at a glance—this was the director, Peter Smith. He looked young, but was actually already fifty-two. At the same time, Peter Smith was sizing them up—or more precisely, sizing up Andrew Brooks.

Of medium height, pale and thin, with a hint of shyness on her face. She just stood there at the door, her light green clothes half-soaked, holding a dripping umbrella in her hand...

He was moved and had already made a basic judgment: not exactly pretty, nose too high, but this delicate scholarly air was truly rare.

Back when Andrew Brooks sent her letter, she’d included a few photos and a little poem she’d written herself, “I Am a Willow Catkin.” It was these things that initially impressed the selection committee.

These days, when casting actors, there’s no concept of acting skills—the standard is just one word: resemblance!

Whether in appearance or temperament, they tried to find actors who fit the role as closely as possible. So when Peter Smith saw her in person, he immediately gave her extra points.

“Hello, Director!”

“Hello, Director!”

Both sides greeted each other and sat down on the sofa.

Peter Smith was a very approachable person. He said, “Both teachers have told me about your situation. Actually, this is my fault—I didn’t make it clear in the letter. We won’t start recording actor auditions for a few more days. You’ve come early. Can you wait here for a bit?”

“……”

Andrew Brooks was always awkward around strangers. She instinctively glanced at Brian Clark, and when he didn’t speak, she said softly, “We only took three days off. We have to go back the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.”

Director Wang thought for a moment and said, “Then let’s have a brief chat, and you can go back and wait for our notice.”

The girl immediately felt a bit disappointed, thinking she probably didn’t have a chance. Then she heard him ask, “Which role do you want to audition for?”

“I—I want to play Lin Daiyu. I think Lin Daiyu has a natural poet’s temperament, romantic and sentimental. I like her poems and have copied them into my notebook… She’s like a lotus flower rising unstained from the mud, living only for herself…”

“……”

Director Wang listened to her simple, naive answer without much expression, just nodding from time to time.

“There’s some understanding there—not bad.”

He gave a brief evaluation, then turned his attention to the other young man. “And you, Brian Clark, right? Which role do you want to play?”

“I quite like Jia Yun.”

Hmm?

The three teachers were stunned. They’d received thousands of letters and met hundreds of audience members. Every girl said Daiyu or Baochai, every boy said Baoyu. Suddenly, someone mentioned Jia Yun.

Peter Smith became interested. “Then tell me, why do you like Jia Yun?”

“Jia Yun is a descendant of the Jia family’s fifth branch. His father died young, and he lives with his widowed mother in difficult circumstances. He gave gifts to Sister Feng and got a job tending flowers and plants, and later recognized Baoyu as his godfather. On the surface, he seems shameless and scheming, but everything he does is to change his life—or rather, his fate. Most importantly, he never hurts anyone else.”

Brian Clark spoke at a steady pace, each word clear. “In the last forty chapters continued by Gao E, after the Jia family’s downfall, Jia Yun hangs out with Jia Qiang and others, and even plots to sell Qiaojie.

But in the early Zhipi manuscripts, Jia Yun is highly praised, with the word ‘chivalrous’ used throughout. For example, there’s a line, ‘Brother Yun chivalrously visits the temple,’ meaning that during the Temple of the God of Prisoners incident, it was likely Jia Yun who brought Hongyu to rescue Baoyu and the others.

In the Gengchen manuscript, it also says, ‘A filial son is admirable. After the fall of Rongguo Mansion, he will surely accomplish something,’ and so on.

So I really like Jia Yun. He’s not resigned to his fate and wants to change it. He’s realistic, but also loyal and righteous—a true example of someone wise to the ways of the world and skilled in human relations.”

Whoa!

Not only did Andrew Brooks stare at him with wide eyes, but even the three teachers were amazed. Peter Smith couldn’t help but turn his head to look at Bai and Zhang—was this the “great letter, mediocre in person” guy you were talking about?

The two of them were also frustrated. Damn, he wasn’t this impressive yesterday!

Peter Smith pondered the meaning behind his words and asked, “So, you don’t like Jia Baoyu?”

“Not really.”

Brian Clark paused and said, “First, as an artistic figure, Baoyu is certainly a great success. But analyzing his personality, I find it hard to like him.