Regarding the play’s performance, Gao Shu, Ouwena, and Lin Lang were naturally the undisputed leads.
Because of the teaching director’s decision, Lin Yuan and Yu Zhi also couldn’t escape being cast.
That left three lead roles remaining. However, this didn’t mean others wouldn’t participate in the performance.
Extras, props, costumes, lighting, and all the other complicated work still needed people responsible for them.
But compared to carrying the main roles, the students of Ninth Class undoubtedly preferred working behind the scenes.
—After hundreds of years in Parnaki, they had had enough of the consequences fame brought and didn’t want to return to Earth only to live a life of being noticed everywhere they went.
—Although even without performing, the name “Class 9, Grade 11” was already famous throughout Second High School.
Rui Hang was naturally well aware of the students’ thoughts in the class.
“In the spirit of fairness and justice, first, those who want to act, please raise your hand,” Rui Hang announced.
The classroom fell silent for a moment, then one hand slowly went up.
“Since no one really wants to participate, I’ll do it,” Zhao Yaya lifted the strands of hair hanging by her ear, smiling sweetly and playfully. “I used to be a DM in script murder games, so I do have some experience.”
Rui Hang was very satisfied with Zhao Yaya’s initiative. “Then there are two roles left; let’s draw lots.”
With that, he took out the already prepared lottery box and invited everyone to come up and draw once.
Eighteen students, two roles, a one-in-nine chance.
“God, please don’t let it be me,” Bai Luo clasped his hands skillfully and murmured, “Hopefully, the first two will get picked!”
“Don’t be so resistant, Xiao Bai,” Lin Yuan chuckled. “Acting can be really fun!”
“…Do you honestly believe what you just said?” Bai Luo ignored Lin Yuan, then thought better of it and folded his hands toward Su Mu, the music class representative, closing his eyes devoutly.
Su Mu blinked. “…Bai Luo, what are you doing?”
Without opening his eyes, Bai Luo answered, “Praying to the koi.”
Su Mu: “…Get real! I’m a mermaid!”
“Ah, we’re all fish, not much difference,” Bai Luo replied dismissively, then bowed toward Song Mingzhe.
Song Mingzhe: “…I’m a dragon, not a Chinese dragon.”
“Same thing, same thing,” Bai Luo said unconcernedly.
Lin Yuan: “……”
Lin Yuan couldn’t hold back. “You call yourself Parnaki Amon, a person who manipulates the fate lines, and yet you’re praying to gods and buddhas?”
“You don’t understand, that’s called covering all bases,” Bai Luo said righteously and with good self-awareness. “I have a clear understanding of my own abilities, and anyway, I don’t even have magic now. My Dice of Fate can’t be used.”
Just then, the order of student numbers finally reached Bai Luo.
He took a deep breath, under the blessing of a double buff, and confidently strode to the podium.
Rui Hang watched with a half-smile as Bai Luo put his hand into the lottery box, pretending to stir it around before pulling out a small slip of paper, upon which a vivid red mark stood out.
“Looks like two negatives make a positive,” Rui Hang chuckled, keeping an eye on the class below. “If only you had paid a little more attention to the class lottery while praying, you wouldn’t have had to go through so much trouble. Number 23, Bai Luo.”
Bai Luo: “……”
“Thanks, Bai Luo, for blessing us all not to get chosen,” Su Mu teased cheerfully. “No one picked a role before you!”
Bai Luo: “……”
He painfully swallowed a mouthful of old blood and forced a stubborn smile. “Haha, I fooled you all. Actually, I’ve wanted to get on stage and perform from the start…”
A joyful atmosphere filled the air. The last slip of paper no longer required student number 24, Sun Jingshu, to come up and draw. The final two lead roles went to Bai Luo and Sun Jingshu.
“Wait, Teacher Rui,” Su Mingya raised her hand. “Thunderstorm only has three female roles, but there are five girls in our class.”
“No problem, I anticipated that,” Shen Qiting, who was in charge of the script, pushed up her glasses and said calmly, “Cross-dressing, gender swaps, all are fine.”
With the leads decided, the next step was to assign roles. Fanyi had initially been set to play Lin Lang.
Although Gao Shu wasn’t a fan of “stepmother literature,” he reluctantly obeyed the class arrangement and took on Zhou Ping’s role.
Ouwena wavered for a long time between the roles of Four Phoenix and Zhou Chong, but in the end chose Zhou Chong, who fit better with the “half-sibling” relationship.
The only regret was that, due to the script’s logic and character relationships, she couldn’t portray the role of the “older sister” as she wished.
As for Lin Yuan and Yu Zhi, they respectively chose Zhou Puyuan and Lu Shiping.
Sun Jingshu and Zhao Yaya picked Lu Dahai and Lu Gui, respectively.
Bai Luo: “…Wait! I can understand Jingshu choosing Lu Dahai, both from working-class backgrounds, but Zhao Yaya, you with your big eyebrows and eyes, why did you pick Lu Gui? You should be playing Four Phoenix properly!”
“Acting is all about breaking through oneself,” Zhao Yaya said confidently. “As a DM, how can I pick my role?”
“But I’m picking!”
“It’s just cross-dressing,” Lin Yuan patted Bai Luo’s shoulder in consolation, though the smile on his lips refused to fade. “Are you afraid of cross-dressing in the Second Dimensional world? Come on, hang in there!”
“Let’s congratulate the birth of our heroine,” Rui Hang led the applause, and warm, enthusiastic claps echoed throughout the classroom, the burning camaraderie moving Bai Luo to tears.
Bai Luo: “…Yamei luo!”
……
In an old-fashioned yet luxuriously European-style room, a woman in a long dress sat by the bed, tightly holding the hand of a young man. A tear rolled down the corner of her eye.
“Ping’er, why are you called Zhou Ping? Deny your father, abandon your surname… Wait, scriptwriter.” Lin Lang put down the script. “Why does this feel so off? Are you sure this isn’t a line from Romeo and Juliet?”
“Not just Romeo and Juliet,” Shen Qiting said. “I added some Hamlet elements too.”
“Is this really okay?” Lin Yuan expressed concern.
Shen Qiting stood firm. “It’s a Western fantasy remix; it was never meant to be a faithful remake of Thunderstorm.”
“Then what about this line?” Ouwena came over with the script. “Your father, he is a cruel and autocratic demon! He devours the flesh and blood of this country, devours our flesh and blood… I seriously suspect you’re shading my father, the king.”
“I wrote him with reference to your father— Saint Malo LXIII,” Shen Qiting admitted openly. “Back then, wasn’t it because he was too brutal and politically incompetent that you chose to overthrow him and seize power yourselves? I’ve always felt that while scripts should reference classics, they should also ground themselves in reality. Only by combining with reality can a story be truly moving.”
“That may be true, but shading your own father in the play still feels weird,” Gao Shu flipped through the script, scratching his head and looking awkward.
Ouwena glanced at him faintly. “Do you want me to remind you where you stabbed our dad? You were even more ruthless.”
As one half of the regicide duo, Gao Shu said, “That may be true…”
“Maybe all you cult types care more about appearances?” Lin Lang joined Ouwena in complaining. “Hey, can’t you just be a little sincere?”
“After all, he was father’s favored son,” Ouwena wiped away a nonexistent tear. “Unlike me, a prince gets all the spoils. I just think Qiting’s insults aren’t harsh enough.” She gave Shen Qiting a thumbs up. “I’ll chip in ten more bucks to make the cursing nastier!”
Gao Shu: “…What’s wrong with us soft-hearted cult folks! I was the only one exiled, okay?”
Bai Luo, unusually ignoring the quarrels of the Thunderstorm Trio, shuffled over to Shen Qiting with hesitant steps and looked at her, eyes full of longing.
“Um, Shen Qiting.”
“What is it?”
“L-Lines…” Bai Luo awkwardly pointed at a few lines in the script, unable to meet her eyes. “Can these lines be changed?”
Shen Qiting lowered her head. “Let me see.”
『Four Phoenix: (sobbing) I… I have already…
Lu Gui: (urgently) What?!
Zhou Ping: (grasping Four Phoenix’s hand, with mixed joy and sorrow) Is it true? How long has it been?
Four Phoenix: (crying) Three months』
“The original script was like this. Since the performance time is tight, I shortened some dialogue. Do you feel the character isn’t fully developed?” Shen Qiting asked seriously.
“…That’s not what I mean!”
“His point is, he can’t act out the pregnancy scene,” Lin Yuan, ever the troublemaker, had been watching the interaction between Bai Luo and Shen Qiting and answered teasingly.
Shen Qiting frowned slightly. “You’ve lived for five hundred years; can’t you say such lines openly?”
“Exactly, what kind of Second Dimensional is that?” Lin Yuan chimed in.
“That’s a stereotype!” Bai Luo ground his teeth.
Though Shen Qiting didn’t speak much usually, she had strong creative principles.
Facing Bai Luo’s resistance, she explained while pointing at the script, “This part is the climax of Thunderstorm’s tragedy. Even though we are doing a fantasy adaptation, we can’t lose the core.”
“Look at Yuzushi… Oh right, don’t you love watching that Moe King stuff? They all get transported to another world. How come their cross-dressing looks so natural?” Lin Yuan asked.
“Is that even comparable?” Bai Luo replied weakly.
“But I can make your skirt look better than Moe King’s,” Zhao Yaya suddenly appeared with a tablet and let Bai Luo pick. “I designed several for you; just choose one.”
Bai Luo: “……”
“Try to get into the character,” Lin Yuan rubbed Bai Luo’s belly. “Think about it, the tiny life growing inside you carries the pure bloodline of the Divine Roman Empire’s royal family. The father is the Pope of one of Parnaki’s largest sects, the Destruction Temple. Your half-sister is the Chairman of the Lint Republic. If it’s a boy…”
The rehearsal room suddenly fell into a long silence.
Countless eyes fixed on Ouwena. Lin Yuan stammered, “I remember, Your Majesty, you cleansed Saint Malo’s royal family to ascend the throne, right?”
“Even so, there were ministers eagerly hoping she would have a child soon and pass the throne to them,” Bai Luo added.
Ouwena thoughtfully stroked her chin. “I probably wouldn’t be so twisted as to kill two lives at once, but you’ll probably spend this life trapped in the temple with the child’s father.”
Lin Yuan: “……”
Bai Luo: “……”
Gao Shu: “…What does this have to do with me again!”
Sun Jingshu patted Bai Luo on the shoulder earnestly. “Forget those chaotic cultists and feudal kings. Socialism is better. I’ll take good care of you and the baby.”
Bai Luo: “I haven’t even given birth yet… No, I’m not even pregnant!”
Amid all the noise and chaos, time flew by.
The annual Second High School sports meet was about to begin.