"Hello! Ms. Congee Tree—I've long admired your work!" the sound engineer said, extending his hand.

Luo Xiaolu, never one for celebrity airs, politely shook it back.

Ever since accidentally breaking the general manager’s hand last time, she’d reflected deeply. She’d even practiced at home, mastering the perfect grip strength for every scenario. Now, no matter the surprise, she’d never tighten her hold recklessly again.

*So this is Ms. Congee Tree’s hand?* Soft. Tender. Something she’d only ever touched in dreams.

Damn. She’d never wash this hand again.

In under three minutes, the sound engineer went from casual observer to devoted fan to full-blown obsessive—a rite of passage for every Congee Tree follower.

Meanwhile, voice actresses began trickling into the venue, arriving from studios across the city.

No doubt about it: *July is Your Lie* was the industry’s hottest project. Studios sent talent to audition even before receiving scripts.

Attendees were either fresh newcomers or rising stars—no big-name veterans. Understandable. Established talents rarely lowered themselves to compete in open auditions.

Thus, this audition had become a fiercely watched battlefield.

For a hit like *July is Your Lie*, especially with the beloved character Lavender, landing a role meant stardom. No newcomer wanted to miss this.

The venue was packed. Many had traveled all the way to Chiba City. No one dared skip this chance.

Truthfully, a project this popular should’ve hired veteran stars.

But—

This was NB Studio!

The NB Studio that churned out anime yearly. The NB Studio that squeezed every drop of profit from production!

Open auditions were their perfect scheme: snag decent talent at bargain prices. A classic NB move.

Especially since *July is Your Lie*’s novel already had massive built-in hype. Star power wasn’t even necessary.

Just then, a man pushed the door open.

Only sound engineers, directors, the author, or executives could enter the booth. He hadn’t wandered in by accident.

This was Chen Chuan, NB Studio’s sound director, overseeing today’s auditions.

"Director!" Lvye stood instantly to greet him. The sound engineer rose respectfully too.

Clearly, he ran the show today.

"Hello! I’m the original author, Congee Tree!" Luo Xiaolu smiled, offering her hand.

"I’m Director Chen Chuan."

He stated it bluntly, no honorifics.

Then he strode to a chair, sat, and turned his gaze outside—completely ignoring Luo Xiaolu’s hand frozen mid-air.

What the hell?!

Luo Xiaolu stared. As someone used to command, she’d never been dismissed like this by a man.

The last person who tried that wept bitterly.

She nearly snapped—ready to turn this punk into an orphaned mute—then caught herself and activated "forced calm"...

How dare he ignore Sister Congee Tree?! Did he have a death wish?!

The sound engineer fumed. Chen Chuan always acted superior, leveraging seniority to boss around juniors, hitting on girls at every audition. Leaving underlings like him to seethe with jealousy.

And now he dared pull this with *Ms. Congee Tree*? Who did he think he was?!

Just as he braced to confront him, he turned—and saw Luo Xiaolu biting her finger with a wounded pout, big eyes glistening...

Adorably explosive!!

Stunned, the engineer blinked—and in that instant, Luo Xiaolu straightened up, face graced with an elegant smile, restored to goddess composure.

What just happened?

His worldview shattered. He needed an eye exam.

Unaware, Director Chen Chuan kept his back turned. He had no idea how dramatically the past minute had unfolded behind him—or how twice he’d teetered on the edge of the underworld.

Today, he was in a foul mood.

Yes. He was targeting Congee Tree.

As NB Studio’s sound director, he held absolute authority over auditions. His word was law. His judgment was sharp. He’d earned his place.

But this time? The company invited the *author* to oversee the process.

What nonsense?

Some wet-behind-the-ears novelist, clueless about production, here to critique *his* work? What was *he* then?

If she stayed quiet—fine.

But what if she nitpicked the actresses? Questioned *his* calls?

Heaven forbid.

He was used to criticizing others—not being criticized.

Damn it. She’d better behave. Or he’d flatten her later.

Meanwhile, voice actresses in the recording booth noticed the scene.

Separated only by soundproof glass, they had a clear view of the booth next door.

Some recognized the director and engineer—but the other two women sent them into a frenzy.

One girl in a dress radiated artistic grace. Every gesture, every motion embodied the perfect modern bishoujo.

Wasn’t this the legendary author, Congee Tree?

A girl this stunning must command a bride price in the hundreds of thousands!

Many attendees had read the novel specifically for this audition—and became devoted fans.

That tiny online video clip had been replayed endlessly. A true fan could recognize Congee Tree from a single glance, a breath.

"I heard Ms. Congee Tree would be here today… and it’s *real*!"

"No way! It’s really Sister Congee Tree herself!!"

"Oh my god—I’m already nervous! Sister Congee Tree’s watching my audition!"

"I *have* to get a photo with Sister Congee Tree!"