Shen Qingyu performed it again, this time without the smile, only looking at an invisible person before him with a barren silence so vast that the whole audition room seemed to empty. "Again." A different version, a different wound, a different ending. By the fifth time, Director He threw the script onto the table. "Enough." The room froze. Director He looked at Shen Qingyu. "You have the role." The assistant hesitated. "Director He, several investors recommended—" Director He interrupted coldly, "Then let the investors act." No one spoke again. Shen Qingyu bowed slightly. "Thank you, Director." Director He looked at him and said, not kindly, "Don't thank me too early. If you ruin my movie, I'll cut you even if filming has already started." Shen Qingyu said, "I won't ruin it." His tone was not arrogant — it was factual. Director He looked at him for two seconds, then laughed. "Good. I hate modest nonsense."

Filming The Silent River was exhausting. Director He was merciless: if Shen Qingyu's expression was off by half a degree, he called cut; if his posture carried modern habits, he called cut; if his breathing did not match the emotional state of the scene, he called cut. The longest scene was filmed twenty-three times. It was a winter night scene by water — Shen Qingyu's character stood beside a frozen river after being abandoned by his family, the costume was thin, the wind was real, and the temperature was below zero. An Alpha actor playing his elder brother had to accuse him: "You never loved this family. You only loved yourself." The line struck too close. The first time, Shen Qingyu's eyelashes trembled, and Director He immediately called cut. "Too much." The second time, he controlled it, and Director He still called cut. "Too controlled." The third time. The fourth. The tenth. The sixteenth. By the twentieth take, Shen Qingyu's lips had gone pale from cold and his fingers were stiff beneath the wide sleeves, and though a staff member wanted to bring him a coat, Director He did not speak and Shen Qingyu did not move.

On the twenty-third take, the Alpha actor said again, "You never loved this family. You only loved yourself." Shen Qingyu stood beside the frozen river with snow falling on his hair and looked at the person in front of him. His face was beautiful enough to seem unreal, but his eyes were empty — not because he did not feel, but because he had felt too much and no one had believed him. After a long silence, he said his line: "Then from today onward, I will." The script had written this line as resentment. Shen Qingyu performed it as release. Director He stared at the monitor. The wind blew across the set. No one moved. Finally, Director He said, "Pass." Only then did Fang Yao rush forward with a coat. Shen Qingyu's hands were so cold he could barely bend his fingers, and Fang Yao wrapped him tightly and frowned. "You could have asked to rest." Shen Qingyu's voice was hoarse. "The feeling would be gone." Fang Yao looked at him, and after a while she sighed. "You're really troublesome." Shen Qingyu lowered his eyes. "Sorry." "I didn't mean it as criticism." He looked up, and Fang Yao said, "Troublesome actors sometimes become great actors." That was one of the few compliments she ever gave him, and Shen Qingyu remembered it for a long time.

When The Silent River was released, no one expected it to explode. Director He had reputation but not mass-market appeal, the topic was heavy, the pacing was restrained, and the lead actor was an unknown seventeen-year-old Omega with almost no fanbase. The first wave of viewers entered the cinema out of curiosity and came out in silence. Then the reviews began. I don't know his name, but the Omega lead destroyed me. That river scene — I couldn't breathe. How is he seventeen? That performance is impossible. He didn't cry once, and somehow I cried for two hours. Shen Qingyu. Remember this name. Professional critics praised him, general audiences discussed him, and film accounts analysed his micro-expressions frame by frame. Clips of him standing in snow, smiling in betrayal, and walking alone through a burning ancestral hall spread across the internet. His beauty brought the first wave of attention, and his acting kept it. Within three months, Shen Qingyu became the industry's most watched newcomer, and within six months he won Best Actor at the Golden Orchid Awards — the youngest Best Actor in the award's history, and the first Omega actor to win the title.

That night, Shen Qingyu stood on stage beneath brilliant lights in a black suit with a pale silver brooch, his hair brushed back to reveal cold brows and bright eyes. Under the camera his skin looked almost translucent, his red lips vivid against the light, and the entire venue applauded. For once, the sound was for him — not for Shen Jianing, not for the Shen family, not for Xie Linchuan. Him. Shen Qingyu accepted the trophy. It was heavier than he expected. The host smiled. "Qingyu, you are the youngest film emperor in Golden Orchid history and the first Omega to win this award. Is there anything you want to say?" Shen Qingyu looked at the audience. Fang Yao sat below the stage with eyes slightly red despite her stern expression. Director He crossed his arms, looking as if he had expected this all along. In the back row, Shen family members sat with complicated faces, and Shen Jianing smiled gently while Xie Linchuan looked at Shen Qingyu with an expression he could not read. Shen Qingyu held the trophy and said calmly, "Thank you to Director He, Teacher Fang, and everyone who worked on The Silent River." He paused. "I will continue acting." No tears, no long speech, no performance of humility. Just one sentence: I will continue acting.

The internet exploded that night — some praised his restraint, some said he was too cold, some said film emperors should have personality, and some said with that face and that acting, personality did not matter. Shen Qingyu returned home after the ceremony, placed the trophy on his desk, looked at it for a long time, and then slept for twelve hours. For the first time in years, he dreamed of nothing.

Success came quickly. Scripts arrived, endorsement offers arrived, and magazine invitations arrived — but so did malice. At first it was ordinary: a young, beautiful Omega becoming film emperor naturally offended people. Some said Director He had inflated his performance, some said the judges wanted novelty, some said Omegas were being politically favoured, and some said Shen Qingyu's face made everyone overestimate his skill. Fang Yao handled it calmly. "Normal," she said. "If no one scolds you, it means you're not red enough." Shen Qingyu nodded. He understood jealousy and gossip — he did not like it, but he could endure it.

Then the rumours changed. Five days before his eighteenth birthday, a marketing account posted a long article titled #TheRealShenQingyu, claiming to expose the truth behind the youngest Omega film emperor. It said Shen Qingyu had bullied his cousin Shen Jianing for years, that he had once clung to Xie Linchuan after their engagement collapsed, that he had accused Shen Jianing without evidence, that he had a terrible temper on set, that he used his Omega identity to gain sympathy while looking down on Betas and Alphas alike, that many classmates from his youth disliked him, and that the Shen family had tolerated him for years because he had lost his parents early. The article was full of vague language — according to insiders, someone familiar with the matter revealed, it is said, a former classmate hinted — with no direct evidence, no names, and no full context, but the writing was clever, and every sentence left space for imagination.

Then edited clips began circulating. A clip of Shen Qingyu walking past Shen Jianing without greeting him, captioned: Film emperor ignores cousin who came to congratulate him. A clip of Shen Qingyu saying "Did I ask you?" from years ago, without the earlier conversation, captioned: This temper since childhood? No wonder people were afraid of him. A clip from the set of The Silent River where Shen Qingyu looked cold after twenty-three takes in freezing weather, captioned: New actor with one award already acting like a big shot. A clip of Xie Linchuan looking uncomfortable beside him at a banquet, captioned: Former fiancé couldn't tolerate him either. By evening the topic had climbed into the hot searches, and by midnight it had exploded. I knew he looked mean. That face really gives vicious Omega vibes. Poor Shen Jianing — he always speaks so gently. So he stole sympathy using his parents' death? Disgusting. No wonder Xie Linchuan cancelled the engagement. The Silent River filter shattered. Character and acting should both matter.

Fang Yao called him at one in the morning, her voice grim. "Don't respond." Shen Qingyu sat by the window of his apartment with his phone in hand, his face pale beneath the screen light. "I wasn't planning to." "Good. The company is investigating the source — some accounts are obviously coordinated." "Mn." Fang Yao was quiet for a moment. "Qingyu, this won't pass easily." Shen Qingyu looked at the city outside, where lights stretched into the distance like a cold river. "I know." "Did you bully Shen Jianing?" "No." "Did you cling to Xie Linchuan?" "No." "Did you cause trouble on set?" "No." "Then remember that." Shen Qingyu's eyelashes lowered. "Teacher Fang." "Say it." "Will remembering help?" Fang Yao fell silent, and that silence was already an answer.

The second day was worse. More accounts joined, anonymous classmates appeared saying Shen Qingyu had always been cold and hard to get along with, and a former Shen household servant — face blurred, voice altered — said in an interview that Young Master Qingyu had a difficult temper since childhood and often made Young Master Jianing cry. A gossip blogger posted that Shen Qingyu's award might have been influenced by capital, though no evidence was provided, and someone dug up the fact that Shen Qingyu's Omega father had eloped with a Beta. The discussion twisted instantly. So his family background is messy too. Like father, like son? Can people with this kind of upbringing really have good character? "Don't bring his dead parents into it." "Why not? Family education matters."