Chapter 86
At the Film Hub, Gu Xingshi arrived at the audition room with Shen Hanyuan.
Fleeting Light’s script was written by Yu Youxia and a few others, but the director was someone Gu hadn’t worked with before.
Her name was Li Xue, a renowned director who had spent years working exclusively in the television drama industry. Li wore a simple outfit, her hair cut short in a sharp, no-nonsense style that added to her commanding presence.
As soon as she saw Gu, she approached him warmly. “President Gu, I’ve heard so much about you!”
Gu shook her hand and was surprised by her firm grip.
Li Xue, in turn, was taken aback. She’d assumed Gu Xingshi was just another rich young CEO; she hadn’t expected his palms to be rough with calluses.
After releasing her hand, the system chimed in: [Li Xue’s story is actually quite inspiring. It’s hard enough for female directors to make a name in this industry, and she wasn’t even formally trained. She started as a camera assistant and worked her way up, entirely on her own merits.]
[Li Xue is known for her fierce independence and has a deep disdain for favoritism in casting. A few years ago, she even broke up with a younger boyfriend she’d been spoiling, just because he asked for a role in her drama. She threw him out on the spot.]
Gu Xingshi was aware of this story, which was part of why they’d chosen her as the director. If it weren’t for her principles, he could have placed Shen Hanyuan directly into the cast instead of arranging an audition.
With her experience, Li Xue could guess Gu’s intentions the moment he brought someone with him.
Although they hadn’t collaborated before, she knew of his reputation as someone who respected the creative process and didn’t interfere unnecessarily. Yet seeing him here now, she wondered if he was just like the other meddling investors she’d dealt with.
Feigning oblivion, Li Xue deliberately avoided bringing up Fleeting Light.
To her surprise, Gu directly addressed it. “Director Li, I understand you haven’t settled on an actor for Xie Sui’an yet. I happened to find someone suitable, so I wanted to bring him over for an audition, just to see if he might fit.”
“President Gu, Xie Sui’an may not have many scenes, but he’s a crucial character. Not just anyone can…” Li Xue’s words trailed off as the term “audition” registered.
Hadn’t Gu brought Shen here to secure the role directly? Why would he bother with an audition?
Gu nodded earnestly. “Of course. This is your production, so I fully respect your expertise. We’ll follow the normal audition process.”
This left Li Xue genuinely surprised. She couldn’t help but ask, “What if I don’t think he’s a good fit?”
Gu replied, “If you find that Shen Hanyuan doesn’t perform well, by all means, pass him over.”
Li Xue felt her tension dissolve, replaced by a faint sense of embarrassment. She realized she’d misjudged him—President Gu was exactly as respectful of the creative process as rumored, and her own assumptions had been too hasty.
Far from being offended, Gu assured her he understood her caution and even praised her dedication, attributing it to the high quality of the production.
With his sincere praise, any remaining reservations Li had melted away, along with her initial bias against Shen Hanyuan.
She turned to Shen. “Have you read the audition script?”
Shen nodded. “Yes, I’ve gone over it thoroughly.”
Since Gu had suggested him for Xie Sui’an, Shen had been reading the original novel and audition script repeatedly. He had even discussed it with other actors at the company—particularly Qin Wen, who had given him valuable insights.
This experience made Shen feel deeply appreciative.
At his previous company, competition was fierce, especially among actors with similar profiles. Open discussions were rare; it was already considered good fortune if no one sabotaged you.
But LeShi was entirely different.
Not only did the agents collaborate with each other, but the actors supported one another as well.
At first, Shen Hanyuan had felt slightly out of place at LeShi, but he had since adapted completely.
In fact, he noticed that discussing his roles with others was helping him break through some small barriers in his acting.
Just then, Li Xue asked him what he thought of Xie Sui’an’s character.
Shen responded smoothly, and his answer took her by surprise.
She had asked other actors the same question during auditions. Most gave empty answers, while some simply repeated popular interpretations from online comments. Only a few offered unique insights, but even those had left her unsatisfied.
Shen, however, offered a fresh perspective on Xie Sui’an that even Li Xue hadn’t considered.
More importantly, he accurately grasped the core of Xie Sui’an’s character.
Though he hadn’t yet begun his audition, his understanding of the role set him apart from the others she had seen.
She gave Shen an appraising look, then glanced at Gu Xingshi. She had heard about Gu’s knack for spotting talent, though she had been skeptical. Now, she was beginning to believe it.
As a result, she found herself eagerly anticipating Shen’s performance.
For the audition, Shen would start with a scene where Xie Sui’an and the protagonist drink together under the moon. In this scene, the protagonist, frustrated and anguished, confronts Xie Sui’an, accusing him of shirking his duty to the world by choosing a life of quiet seclusion and indulgence.
What the protagonist doesn’t know is that Xie Sui’an has already tried, with all his heart, to save the world but failed. His pain runs far deeper than the protagonist’s, though he hides it behind a serene, indifferent exterior.
During the protagonist’s scolding, Xie Sui’an doesn’t defend himself. Instead, he simply pats the protagonist’s shoulder and leaves with the remaining wine.
Afterward, he sacrifices himself for the people, and his departure leaves an enduring scar in the protagonist’s heart—a loss he can never forget. This scene, beloved by fans, remains a source of unresolved sorrow in their hearts.
The challenge of this scene lay in conveying Xie Sui’an’s sense of desolation alongside the subtle connection he shares with the protagonist. It wasn’t a romantic relationship, but the nuance required was difficult to capture.
At first, Shen’s performance was competent but unremarkable.
However, as the assistant director, acting as the protagonist, berated him, Shen lowered his eyes, his lashes trembling ever so slightly. In that fleeting moment, he composed himself, raised his head, and offered the protagonist a gentle smile.
His gaze was shattered yet still tender.
In that moment, even Li Xue felt the assistant director—whose face she was entirely familiar with—seemed to take on a newfound depth and handsomeness.
Shen hadn’t spoken a word, yet the atmosphere enveloped everyone, transporting them into the scene.
Suddenly, they all understood why, after Xie Sui’an’s death, the protagonist could never let go of his memory.
Gu Xingshi couldn’t help but marvel, Is this the power of a natural CP aura?
Li Xue was equally astonished.
While there were actors with more refined technique, Shen’s ability to create such chemistry with his scene partner was exceedingly rare.
But this elusive chemistry was difficult to replicate, and she couldn’t be sure if another actor would evoke the same effect.
Li Xue had encountered this dilemma before, where she struggled to let go of a specific feeling. Yet, she hesitated to make a final decision.
Sensing her uncertainty, Gu said, “Director Li, may I offer a suggestion?”
Li Xue nodded eagerly. “Please, go ahead.”
Gu continued, “I assume you’ve cast several other actors already. Perhaps you could have Shen run scenes with them as well, to see if he suits the role.”
Li Xue was stunned.
This would certainly raise the difficulty level for Shen!
After all, some of the confirmed cast members were veteran actors with remarkable skills. Shen Hanyuan, with only a handful of acting credits, might not be able to hold his own against them, which could end up reflecting poorly on him.
Did President Gu really have such confidence in Shen Hanyuan?
Gu Xingshi: Well, actually, he was more confident in Shen’s “natural CP aura.”
With Gu’s suggestion and Shen Hanyuan’s agreement, Li Xue gladly went ahead with the plan.
And as soon as the auditions began, Li Xue was floored.
How could there be an actor who could establish such rich chemistry with every single scene partner?
There was a subtle intensity to Shen’s performances—suggestive of romance but not overtly so—that created a delicate, profound connection with each character. One misstep would make the character too bland, while overdoing it would feel forced.
Striking the perfect balance was one of the greatest challenges of playing Xie Sui’an, but Shen Hanyuan pulled it off effortlessly, giving just the right amount of nuance.
If Li Xue had felt any reservations before, she was now thoroughly convinced of Gu Xingshi’s discernment.
This role of Xie Sui’an truly seemed tailor-made for Shen Hanyuan.
As a result, Shen secured the role without a doubt.
Once he heard the news, he finally allowed himself to relax.
Gu Xingshi smiled and said, “Congratulations. Go home and start preparing.”
“President Gu…” Shen looked at him with gratitude, nearly moved to tears.
If it weren’t for Gu, he wouldn’t have even had a chance to audition.
His success was due to LeShi’s supportive environment, where talented colleagues and mentors helped him without reservation.
Gripping Gu’s hand firmly, Shen said, “President Gu, I’ll give this role everything I’ve got. I won’t let you down!”
Just then, Wen Yue entered the room, witnessing Shen’s heartfelt handshake with Gu.
A handsome young man, holding Gu Xingshi’s hand and looking at him with such deep emotion, surrounded by an air of unmistakable pink-tinted warmth.
Wen’s steps faltered, and his expression grew visibly colder.
He picked up his pace, covering the distance to Gu in a few strides.
Gu, still encouraging Shen, looked up in surprise at Wen’s sudden arrival. “President Wen, what brings you here?”
Suppressing his urge to glance at their clasped hands, Wen replied in a low voice, “I had some business nearby and heard about the audition, so I thought I’d stop by.”
Then, with what seemed like casual curiosity, he turned to Shen. “Is this your new artist? I don’t recall seeing him before.”
Gu replied, “This is Shen Hanyuan, a newly signed artist with his own manager—not one of mine directly.”
As Gu Xingshi introduced them, he said, “Hanyuan, this is President Wen.”
Feeling the pressure emanating from Wen Yue, Shen instinctively released Gu’s hand and greeted him respectfully, “Hello, President Wen.”
The sight of their clasped hands disappearing improved Wen Yue’s mood. “President Gu and I go way back. You don’t need to be so formal with me.”
Gu glanced at Wen in mild surprise.
Wen remained calm, adding, “With our companies working so closely together, isn’t that right?”
Gu: “…”
Shen Hanyuan suddenly sensed that his presence might be unnecessary, so he politely excused himself.
Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he caught Wen Yue’s approving look.
Wen Yue: At least he has some sense.
Much better than Meng Yuansheng and the others.
After Shen left, Gu Xingshi raised an eyebrow, his smile faint. “So, were you really just ‘passing by,’ President Wen?”
Wen hesitated before responding directly, “No, I came specifically to find you.”
Gu froze slightly, surprised by Wen’s straightforwardness.
The memory of their last encounter at the Wen estate resurfaced, and a hint of pink tinged his ears.
Wen’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “Xingshi…”
Gu quickly steadied himself, responding with a playful tone, “I’m honored.”
Wen sensed Gu’s guarded response and sighed inwardly, though he wasn’t surprised.
Due to his past—having lost both parents and grown up constantly working various jobs without a stable home—Gu Xingshi was cautious and guarded about love, something he’d had little exposure to.
He resembled a beautiful, alert little fox, always cautious, tentatively extending a paw. At the first sign of danger, he would dart back into his den, denying others the chance to approach.
Yet Wen knew that if this little fox ever entrusted his heart, he would give himself completely.
From the day he’d fallen for Gu, Wen had understood that capturing this fox would require immense patience.
So, he willingly shifted the conversation. “I came by to check out the latest developments on the digital engine. Want to join me?”
Surprised, Gu asked, “Is it ready this soon?”
Wen nodded. “If it’s successful, Fleeting Light will be able to use it, and the VFX production time will improve dramatically…”
The thought of such technology made Gu momentarily forget his previous unease, and they walked toward the digital lab, engaged in lively discussion.
Meanwhile, Tang Ling adjusted his glasses and reached out to add Gu Xingshi’s new assistant on WeChat.
“It’s a pleasure,” Tang said, hinting at something more. “We’ll be coordinating quite a bit from here on.”
The new assistant looked bewildered. “???”
*
Under the eager anticipation of netizens, Fleeting Light finally released its first teaser trailer.
The opening shot immediately conveyed a rich, detailed atmosphere, immersing viewers in the world of the series. Then the protagonist appeared, and through his perspective, the story’s landscape unfolded.
With youthful ambition, he vowed to save the people.
After a series of heart-pounding scenes, a voice asked, “Do you have any regrets in this life?”
The protagonist fell silent for a long time before softly responding, “Yes.”
The background music slowed, tinged with sadness, and in the protagonist’s memories, he returned to that small courtyard.
Under the moonlight, a gentle and handsome man silently accepted the protagonist’s accusations without a hint of resentment, only smiling faintly as he patted his shoulder.
His gaze held a multitude of emotions—satisfaction, sorrow… and yet, it seemed almost empty, as if he saw only the person in front of him.
Finally, he lifted the half-filled jug of wine and slowly walked away, his solitary figure fading into the night.
As the protagonist’s voiceover whispered, “That was the last time I saw him, and I regret never finishing that half jug of wine with him.”
*
The trailer’s views shot past a million within hours, and the comment section was filled with emotional outbursts.
[Aaaahhh the iconic drinking scene under the moon!!!]
[This is the feeling! This is exactly the Xie Sui’an who would linger in Lu Huai’s memory for a lifetime!!!]
[The way Xie Sui’an looks at Lu Huai… I’m dying here! The chemistry is insane!]
[Who’s the actor for Xie Sui’an?! He looks like he just walked out of the book!]
[I have sinned. I doubted this actor when I saw the initial photos, thinking he didn’t fit my image of Xie Sui’an. But now? I’m a believer! He is Xie Sui’an!]
[I’ve watched the trailer at least ten times. If the crew doesn’t release the full episodes soon, I’ll starve for lack of ‘spiritual nourishment’!]
[Girls! Go watch the wrap-up special! There’s so much good content!]
*
The wrap-up special included behind-the-scenes footage and candid interactions among the cast members.
In the story, Xie Sui’an was a beloved figure for everyone, sharing screen time with nearly every main character.
As Xie Sui’an’s actor, Shen Hanyuan’s on-set presence was substantial, and each time he appeared, the atmosphere seemed to shift entirely.
[Aaaahhh, Xiao Yuan fixing brother Yu’s costume—so sweet!]
[Xiao Yuan and LeLe even have matching water bottles! They’re so in sync during filming, like an adorable little couple!]
[Out of the way, fake ships! The official CP is undefeated!!!]
A simple, ten-minute wrap-up special quickly turned into a chaotic CP frenzy centered around Shen Hanyuan, with fans debating which pairing was truly “canon.”
As the online debates raged, Fleeting Light finally premiered.
As the year’s most highly anticipated drama, Fleeting Light shattered popularity records upon release, with comment sections brimming with excitement.
[Finally! I’ve been waiting forever!]
[The trailer was killing me—I’ve been checking every day for the release!]
[I’ve watched the wrap-up special so many times it’s worn out. Now I finally have fresh content to ship!]
[I came here for Xie Sui’an—my eternal ‘white moonlight’!]
And Fleeting Light did not disappoint. With a solid script, stellar performances, and incredible visuals, the series quickly skyrocketed to the top, solidifying its status as the year’s hit drama.
Particularly, Shen Hanyuan’s portrayal of Xie Sui’an, though limited in screen time, became a sensation. Every time he appeared, he trended on social media.
[Xie Sui’an is absolutely perfect! Shen Hanyuan is incredible!!]
[I finally understand that saying: ‘You shouldn’t meet someone too extraordinary in your youth, or you’ll spend the rest of your life unable to find peace.’ Oh, my dear Sui’an!]
Outside the drama, the hottest topic became the fervent debate among fans about who was truly Xie Sui’an’s “one true love.” The debate even bled into discussions about the actors themselves.
[It ‘has’ to be our brother Yu! Hasn’t everyone seen the behind-the-scenes for Episode 11? Brother Yu’s gaze never left Xiao Yuan during the scene, and as soon as they finished, Xiao Yuan went straight to him. If that’s not real, what is?]
[Xiao Yuan and LeLe are the sweetest couple!]
[Isn’t anyone shipping brother Xiao Wu and Xiao Yuan? The senior-junior dynamic with that soul-deep connection in the drama—it’s simply divine!]
[Am I the only one who thinks…they all match? Can we just have a Shen Hanyuan for each household?]
[I’m all for it! Who’s with me on the ALL-Yuan ship?!]
[Shipping them all is the only way to a balanced CP diet!]
*
Under Zhou Chengyan’s expert PR guidance, this CP frenzy extended far beyond the characters in Fleeting Light. Shen Hanyuan was paired not only with his current co-stars but also with characters from other series.
Fans could find wholesome, quirky, innocent, or spicy ships—whatever their heart desired.
Of course, fans who originally shipped Shen Hanyuan with Guo Zhang weren’t happy.
They argued fiercely that ‘their’ pairing was the real deal, but quickly found themselves overwhelmed.
[Who do you think you are, trying to stick to our Xiao Yuan?]
[Who even is Guo Zhang? Do they as handsome as brother Yu? Are they as gentle as brother Xiao Wu? No? Then back off.]
[A word of advice: take a good look at Guo Zhang first. Is he worthy?]
A few of Guo Zhang’s loyal fans tried to fight back, but they were no match for the sheer volume of fans defending Shen Hanyuan’s other pairings.
Watching this unfold, Shen Hanyuan felt deeply moved.
It was exactly as President Gu had predicted.
In the past, he’d tried hiding and avoiding, to no avail. CP fans argued relentlessly, everyone was at his throat, and the online abuse never stopped.
But now, he has transformed into the entertainment industry’s “heartthrob”—the one and only “white moonlight” of the domestic scene, the undisputed “King of CPs.”
Everyone was praising him, debating who truly deserved to be by his side.
The trait that once troubled him had now become his defining characteristic.
Eventually, there was even a saying in the entertainment world: If you haven’t had a random CP edited with Shen Hanyuan, you aren’t truly famous.
Thanks for the chapter! I don’t understand the shipping of real people, but as long as it’s in good fun with no harm or expectations towards the real people, that more acceptable I guess.