LAVW – Chapter 155 Tiger Tiger

Ever since discovering the cheetah Lancel’s “little secret,” Shi Qian could no longer look at serious, respectable musicals the same way again.

After all, something so far beyond his understanding—he had lived several lifetimes, yet this was still the first time he’d ever encountered it.

But perhaps the meaning of living a few more lives lay precisely in constantly coming to know “new things” and “even newer things.”

Shi Qian steadied his mood and followed along as they changed venues, once again witnessing what people meant by “other people’s animals.”

Listening to a choir sing hymns in a church, going to the Golden Hall to hear a top-tier orchestra perform, watching ancient mime plays…

The cheetah Lancel displayed a familiar air and an attitude of earnest appreciation. The most outrageous part was—he actually seemed to like every single performance, much like how Lancel liked looking at beautiful women.

Shi Qian was curious. “Ho ho?”

Do cheetahs have a literary, artsy side too?

Lancel lifted a paw and slapped it against the tiger’s face, quietly reminding him—“Wow.”

Probably meaning: shut up, don’t interrupt him while he’s listening to poetry.

Shi Qian fell silent, lay off to the side, and watched the moon outside the window.

Opera troupes and vocal music were still fine—music knows no borders. A good melody is something everyone can enjoy.

But poetry was different. Separated by culture and accumulated tradition, it was hard for different people to share the same taste. Shi Qian really couldn’t appreciate those long, awkward, tongue-twisting poems.

Two days later, Merlin received new information and prepared to take Shi Qian to fight for a role. That meant Shi Qian would have to say a brief goodbye to Lancel and Hans.

When Merlin mentioned having business to attend to, a hint of surprise appeared on Hans’s face, then turned into a smile.

“What a coincidence. I was just about to say that Lancel and I also have some serious matters coming up.”

“Yes, what a coincidence,” Merlin said, genuinely surprised. “Once things settle down, let Qian and Lancel play together again. They seem to get along really well.”

Hans nodded, stroking the cheetah with one hand as he said, “Of course. Qian counts as Lancel’s first true friend.”

As a leopard who had always been somewhat unconventional, Hans often worried that Lancel might feel lonely on a spiritual level.

Shi Qian and Lancel looked at each other. Different shades of disagreement flashed through both their eyes.

Lancel felt that he was in no way comparable to this young tiger—he was clearly more steady, elegant, and mature. Unlike this tiger, who was obviously a greenhorn at first glance.

And Shi Qian felt that he himself didn’t play around nearly as wildly as that cheetah did.

He was an honest tiger, after all. How could he be mentioned in the same breath as that scummy cheetah Lancel?

The two animals turned their heads away without the slightest reluctance, each going back to their own homes.

The new information Merlin obtained came from the food-stall auntie at Snack Stall No. 107.

After taking over the street market, the Hong Gang discovered they had gained a very powerful ability—smooth information flow.

Even if someone was just eating grilled cold noodles and chatting casually at a stall, they could pick up news about which film crew was about to start shooting, which crew was having trouble with actors, or even which crew’s boxed meals tasted the worst.

They were all trivial bits of information, but once collected and compiled, they allowed one to clearly see the entire foundation of vast Hollywood from behind countless indispensable small figures.

The good news the auntie brought back was this: a famous director wanted to shoot a film somewhat like a dual–male-lead story, and one of the roles belonged to an animal.

Although there was a high chance that this so-called “dual male lead” would be heavily watered down, for Shi Qian, such an opportunity was still exceedingly rare.

Animal actors were often just embellishments.

In this world, Shi Qian could never finish watching all the excellent films with human leads—but once it came to animal actors, he had already swept through all the high-quality works in a short period of time.

And with Shi Qian’s current memory, after watching a work twice, it would already feel dull to him. He could clearly remember how many passersby appeared, how many men and women among them, their heights, builds, and clothing—what was there left to watch? He might as well play it out in his own head.

After getting this news, Guan Yunfei had people inquire and verify it from all sides. The information was true.

After ruling out Jack’s involvement, the opportunity naturally fell into Merlin and Shi Qian’s hands.

At present, there was still no concrete news about the crew—it might not even have been fully assembled yet. Merlin’s plan was to bring Shi Qian along to test their luck first and get their faces known by the famous director.

On a sun-drenched day, golden light poured down from the sky. Five hundred meters away from Hollywood’s tallest building, Merlin’s car was parked in a space.

One person and one tiger were doing stakeout work like paparazzi.

Sneaky and furtive, they looked just a little perverted—certainly not like good people.

Shi Qian knew opportunities in Hollywood had to be seized, but he hadn’t expected things to be this competitive.

Before any news even leaked out, they already had to go directly and “auditioned” with the director.

About half an hour later, Merlin’s face lit up with excitement. “He’s here, he’s here! Director Laman is coming out.”

She patted Shi Qian. “I’ll go down first and say a few words to Director Laman.”

It wasn’t convenient to bring the tiger along directly—they were afraid of frightening the big director or his assistants. In Hollywood, bad outcomes sometimes didn’t come from big issues but from small details. Merlin’s understanding was still superficial, but she knew the principle of trying not to offend anyone.

Shi Qian nodded solemnly and watched Merlin leave.

Once Merlin disappeared from sight, a tiger paw pushed the window open, ears pricking up to listen in on the scene.

Before long, Merlin returned with a smile.

“All set. Director Laman agreed to give us a chance.”

Shi Qian played along enthusiastically, widening his eyes as if hearing it for the first time.
“Roar.”

Really? You’re amazing.

Merlin happily brought Qian along, following Director Laman and the others at a respectful distance as they entered a nearby grand hotel.

Shi Qian quietly kept pace, casting a few glances at Director Laman along the way so he wouldn’t fail to recognize him next time.

Of course, there were quite a few people secretly sizing him up as well. As insiders of the industry, most of them had heard of the still-red-hot “Will.” Seeing with their own eyes a tiger with almost miraculous acting skills, they couldn’t help but sneak a few looks—and, out of politeness, worry a little about their own safety.

All the way to the private room, the usually assertive hotel staff who never allowed animals inside failed to appear. Instead, there was only a manager respectfully leading them the entire way.

At the door, the impeccably dressed manager courteously pushed it open. “Director Laman, our boss is waiting inside.”

Shi Qian: No wonder—so it’s someone else’s own hotel.

But in an occasion like this, was it really convenient to bring Merlin and him along?

Just as Shi Qian was puzzled, Director Laman stepped inside, and they followed behind.

When they reached the doorway, Shi Qian and Merlin stopped at the same time.

Hans inside the room, and Merlin and Shi Qian outside—six eyes filled at once with shock and surprise.

So it turned out they were all busy with the very same matter!

Hans was surprised that the information and opportunity he had obtained at great expense were something Merlin had also managed to hear about.

However, his moment of astonishment lasted only an instant. In the blink of an eye, he composed himself and politely greeted Director Laman.

Merlin walked in, awkward and silent.

Just like her position in the industry—being a well-behaved, unobtrusive nobody.

As for Shi Qian, facing Lancel’s disdainful sniff, he complained inwardly: What a coincidence—like coincidence opening the door for coincidence, coincidence all the way home.

Lancel was a little displeased at his companion’s distraction. “Wow~ oh~”

Shi Qian replied, “Roar.”

Amid the leopard’s cry and the tiger’s roar, only Hans, Merlin, and Director Laman wore relatively natural smiles.

Director Laman briefly explained his ideas. True to the irony of his name, his progress bar was anything but slow—it was advancing rapidly.

Although the crew hadn’t been fully assembled yet, he had already contacted many old partners and had nearly enough manpower. As for the script, it was in its final stages and only needed last adjustments, to be handled by an old collaborator who had once conquered the box office charts together with him. Investment, of course, was no concern for a famed director…

After laying everything out, Director Laman saved his final thought for last. With a slightly awkward smile, he said, “The initial inspiration for the script came from The Morbis Realm. I’m a fan of the show as well.”

As he spoke, Director Laman’s gaze shifted to the two animals playing nearby.

Shi Qian noticed that most of Director Laman’s attention was on him.

Could it be that when Director Laman was creating, the one he projected himself onto was him?

Shi Qian glanced at Lancel and felt he might be overthinking it.

Having his acting buffed was one thing—but gaining an edge even in key casting decisions felt a bit much. Originally, buffed acting versus sheer money power barely counted as a fair, evenly matched competition.

Shi Qian nudged the innocent, clueless Lancel with his head and prepared for a solid cuddle, putting some force into it.

Caught off guard and squeezed into the corner, Lancel: ?

Lancel suddenly sprang into action, leaping out of the handlers’ control and pouncing straight onto Hans.

Someone was startled by the cheetah darting past and let out a cry of alarm.

Shi Qian froze in place.

The young tiger sighed, raised a paw, and rubbed his ears. “Rawr.”

In this lifetime, he really didn’t want to play with people who were too normal anymore.

Hans had the others escorted out and began a brief discussion with Director Laman.

Truth be told, Hans wasn’t too fond of Director Laman’s approach.

He had spent a large sum of money precisely so Lancel could enjoy an early audition.

Though never stated outright, there was an implicit condition—exclusive rights.

If Lancel turned out not to be suitable, and the director’s stature was a bit lower, Hans could still use his money power to have the director and crew modify parts of the project to serve Lancel.

Ever since discovering Lancel’s talent, Hans had set himself a small goal: to cultivate a star leopard—preferably one even more famous than humans.

Up to now, he had been working toward that goal.

Sometimes he failed, sometimes he succeeded. And as of today, Lancel was the most famous animal actor.

Of course, given Director Laman’s stature, the likelihood of making major changes just for Lancel was slim. Still, Hans believed Lancel’s strength was enough, so there was no need to worry too much.

Who would have thought a roadblock tiger would suddenly appear—one whose acting might be even better?

Shi Qian felt that Lancel was the proverbial “other people’s child,” and Hans, observing him, also realized that although this tiger was young and often mischievous, he was more perceptive of human ways.

Out of consideration for Tiger Qian being Lancel’s friend, Hans gave a bit of face and spoke amicably, suggesting that everyone compete fairly.

Director Laman was also satisfied with this outcome. Looking at Hans, he said, “When the time comes, the producer, screenwriter, and casting director will all participate in the audition selection. I believe the results will satisfy everyone.”

With more people involved, the outcome wouldn’t be overly influenced by him alone.

Merlin listened the whole time—sometimes awkward, sometimes happy, sometimes curious. The expressions on her pretty little face shifted visibly, like a palette changing colors every moment.

After the negotiations concluded, it was time for a more pleasant and relaxed meal.

Hans patted Lancel’s backside, signaling him to get down, and discreetly pounded his own leg a few times.

His leg had gone numb from being sat on by the cheetah.

But it was nothing serious. Hans kept a gentle smile on his face as he conversed, his posture upright and elegant.

That was, until he noticed—

The white tiger’s azure-blue eyes were staring intently at his leg-pounding hand, shining like two blue lightbulbs.

Hans: …

Hans silently withdrew his hand.

Shi Qian: Stingy.

What is there that we low-to-the-ground players aren’t allowed to see?