The moment the name "Le Hailey" echoed through the room, the screenwriter seated beside Yan Aldrich noticed a distinct twitch in his fingers resting on the table.
Le Hailey, momentarily lost in thought, was startled to find her turn had arrived so quickly. She handed her belongings to Xiaoru and approached the platform.
Only as she ascended the stairs did the realization hit her: she was about to audition in front of Yan Aldrich. He was her husband in name, but the relationship felt utterly unreal. Performing before him now? Pretending she wasn't nervous was impossible. An impulse to flee seized her. But then she recalled Danny’s words about this rare opportunity. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to climb step by step onto the platform.
A stagehand came to fasten her wire harness, remarking, "You're so thin! Waist even smaller than Jiang Hui's!" Le Hailey kept her gaze lowered, avoiding Yan Aldrich's direction, and offered only a faint smile. In the entertainment industry, being called thin was a compliment. Television widened proportions; only the truly slender looked good on screen.
"Alright," the stagehand said, giving the harness a final tug. Seeing her beauty, he added kindly, "Good luck."
Le Hailey offered a brief, grateful smile. Looking down at the crowd below, the distance reduced faces to indistinct blurs.
The anonymity strangely eased her anxiety towards Yan Aldrich.
He dares to watch? Then I dare to act.
With a surge of resolve, she leapt off the platform with a dancer's lightness.
A jarring, agonizing jolt seized her waist.
She whipped her head back, bewildered, to look at the wire rigging. She'd barely cleared half a meter when the harness abruptly jerked taut, leaving her suspended mid-air.
Panic flashed over the stagehand's face. He frantically cranked the winch, but a gear seemed jammed, refusing to budge.
The harness wires were thin for post-production editing, meaning her entire weight hung on a slender band digging agonizingly into her waist.
Pain lanced through her like a breaking spine.
Weakened by the strain, her grip failed. The blunt prop sword slipped from her fingers, clattering loudly onto the concrete below.
As everyone stared, frozen in shock, Yan Aldrich was already on his feet.
Just a second later, the jammed gear suddenly freed itself. The winch, wound too tight by the stagehand's frantic efforts, spun wildly.
The pressure on her waist vanished instantaneously. Her body plummeted towards the ground – headfirst.
Because the platform was only three meters high, no safety mats cushioned the fall. Below her lay only unyielding concrete.
To provide ample space for the audition, the crowd stood far back, leaving a large, empty center area. In that split second, rescue was impossible.
Though the height wasn't extreme, falg headfirst from suspension guaranteed injury. A flurry of thoughts raced through Le Hailey's mind.
Only one penetrated the haze: Protect my face! It was her only defense.
She threw her arms up, shielding her face, squeezed her Aldrichs shut, and braced for impact.
Her clenched teeth anticipated the jarring crunch of bone on concrete—
The fall was swift, gravity pulg her down. But the expected agony never came.
Instead, she crashed into a solid Aldricht unexpectedly warm embrace.
No one in the stunned crowd quite saw how Yan Aldrich moved. One instant he was standing; the next, a dark-suited blur shot across the space.
He intercepted Le Hailey's plummeting body, absorbing the full force of her impact with his own. He crashed onto his back, arms locked tightly around her, shielding her completely.
The jarring impact and sudden pain wrenched a slight grimace from Yan Aldrich, but his hold on her didn't loosen for an instant.
Le Hailey was enveloped in the familiar, subtle scent of his cologne. Recognition dawned – Yan Aldrich.
Her cheek pressed against his chest, she could feel the powerful, frantic beat of his heart beneath her ear, accelerated by adrenae and fear.
Her hand rested on his chest; through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could almost feel the hard muscle beneath.
Yan Aldrich looked down, his features taut. Seeing Le Hailey's face drained of color, he feared injury. His voice was low, urgent. "Are you alright?"
Le Hailey stared up at him, dazed, seemingly unable to process what had happened.
He... caught her? Yan Aldrich caught her?
His face was mere inches away, impossibly handsome as ever, his skin flawless. But the usually cool, detached gaze in his phoenix Aldrichs was now sharp with palpable anxiety.
His warm breath fanned her forehead, Aldricht her entire body felt weightless, disconnected, as if floating on clouds.
The frozen silence shattered as people surged forward, crowding around them.
"Young Master Aldrich! Young Master Aldrich! Are you alright?"
"Your spine! Is your spine okay? Should we call an ambulance?"
"Someone get help!"
Yan Tingcher ignored the barrage of frantic questions. His gaze remained locked on Le Hailey's face, demanding reassurance.
Slowly, Le Hailey surfaced from her daze. She shook her head. "I... I'm okay."
Her thoughts were still a tangled mess. Yan Aldrich saved her? Why? Theirs was a marriage of convenience! Shouldn't they be pretending not to know each other?
The intensity in his Aldrichs moments ago sparked a flutter of confusing panic deep within her.
He’s gay, she forcibly reminded herself. He doesn’t like women! Don't misunderstand! Don't be absurd!
The thought brought a pang of unacknowledged disappointment, which she quickly buried.
Director Zhang shoved through the crowd, his plump face slick with sweat, panic radiating from him. "Young Master Aldrich! Young Master Aldrich! Are you unharmed?
That sounded awful! Could your spine be injured? Stagehand! Where's the stagehand?! Call 120! Now!"
His career flashing before his Aldrichs; Yan Aldrich injured during his audition? He'd be finished.
Yan Aldrich shot him an icy, impatient glare. "I'm fine. No ambulance." His tone brooked no argument.
Supporting Le Hailey, he rose to his feet. Her legs were still shaky, so his arm remained securely around her waist, letting her lean into him.
Dust marred the expensive fabric of his bespoke suit, Aldricht it did nothing to diminish his imposing aura. No one dared reach out to assist him.
Le Hailey lifted her head, catching the onslaught of gazes – curious, jealous, scrutinizing. Reality snapped back. She pushed gently against Yan Aldrich, creating distance.
Xiaoru finally fought her way through the throng. Seeing Le Hailey pale and trembg, she gasped, rushing to her side and grabbing her arm. "Hailey! Oh god, are you hurt?!"
Le Hailey gratefully shifted her weight onto Xiaoru, stepping fully out of Yan Aldrich's embrace. She kept her Aldrichs downcast, addressing him formally. "Thank you, Young Master Aldrich."
Yan Aldrich's gaze turned frosty.
She dared to pretend not to know him?
The exhaustion of his overnight flight back solidified into cold fury.
But seeing the tremor that still ran through her slender shoulders, the gering shock in her downcast Aldrichs, he couldn't bring himself to unleash it on her.
He turned his head sharply. The icy calm in his Aldrichs ignited with a dangerous flicker of anger, landing squarely on Director Zhang.
"Is this the level of safety assurance Film Mountain provides?"
His voice was a razor-sharp icicle, cutting through the murmurs.