Chapter 56
Chapter 56: A Flawless Protagonist
After leaving Isabella's art-filled studio, Lina's mood was clearly much lighter than when she had set out.
It was not only because she had a gold note with an enormous denomination tucked away in her pocket, but also because she finally no longer had to wander around wearing that battle-damaged witch robe.
The three of them hailed a magitech taxi carriage—a mode of transportation with a retro appearance that was actually propelled by magic-powered drive wheels beneath its chassis, designed specifically for respectable people who did not want to squeeze onto public buses.
The carriage passed through the bustling Fontainebleau Avenue before turning into a quiet and spacious tree-lined road.
This was Sycamore Street, Gaul City's famous wealthy district.
The noisy sounds of everyday city life quietly faded away here, replaced by the rustling of the wind passing through the leaves of the towering sycamore trees.
The buildings lining both sides of the road were no longer tightly packed shops, but garden villas with their own private courtyards. Behind wrought-iron fences, carefully trimmed hedges and blooming flowers did an excellent job of protecting their owners' privacy.
The carriage finally came to a stop in front of the gates of No. 36 Sycamore Street.
It was a typical Valentina-style villa, with pristine white exterior walls and a roof covered in deep-blue tiles. Several vines of blooming white roses wound around the ornate black iron gates, creating a uniquely elegant atmosphere.
Lina paid the fare and stepped forward to ring the doorbell.
A moment later, the gate slid open soundlessly. An elderly butler dressed in a tailcoat, his hair combed with meticulous precision, appeared at the entrance.
The old butler's eyes immediately fell upon Lina, who stood at the front of the group.
The special aura that Lina exuded while wearing her new outfit caused the butler to unconsciously straighten his back, and his tone became exceptionally respectful.
“Good afternoon, esteemed lady.” The old butler bowed slightly. “You must be the visiting film star from Yunque whom Miss Hepburn mentioned, the one who came from afar for a collaboration? May I ask which film company you are the leading actress of? Please forgive my poor eyesight; I failed to recognize such a superstar with such a unique temperament at first glance.”
Clearly, Isabella's design had been too successful. Combined with Lina's natural calm (slacker-like) aura, it caused this butler, who was accustomed to grand occasions, to directly mistake her for a celebrity of the same status as his mistress.
Behind her, Annie could not help covering her mouth as she laughed, while Sibyl turned her head away, trying not to laugh as well.
Lina silently sighed to herself. The saying that clothes made the person really was true.
“You flatter me. I'm not a film star.”
Lina elegantly took out the invitation letter, still carrying a trace of perfume, from her handbag and handed it over.
“My name is Lina. I've come at Miss Hepburn's invitation.”
“Ah... so it's Miss Lina!”
The old butler accepted the letter. After seeing the wax seal on it, the expression of “receiving a superstar” froze on his face for a second before quickly transforming into an even warmer smile, though a hint of surprise appeared in his eyes.
He had obviously heard of the strange title “Slacker Witch,” but he had never imagined that the witch his young lady described as “having unique insights but living simply” would be the fashionable young woman with such outstanding presence standing before him.
“My apologies. It's simply because your bearing is far too extraordinary.” The butler bowed apologetically and stepped aside with a welcoming gesture. “Miss Hepburn has been waiting for quite some time. Please, all three of you, come in.”
After passing through the meticulously maintained front garden, the three were led into the first-floor hall of the villa.
The hall's decor was luxurious without sacrificing elegance. A massive crystal chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, refracting dazzling rays of light. The floor was covered with a thick dark-red Persian carpet that felt soft underfoot, muffling every trace of footsteps.
Several enormous oil paintings hung on the walls. One of them was a still from Hepburn's breakthrough work, ‘Valentia Holiday’—she wore a simple white dress and looked back with a smile capable of captivating all who saw it.
A faint fragrance of incense lingered in the air, blending with the rich aroma of black tea.
“Miss is currently changing clothes on the second floor. Please wait a moment.”
The butler guided the three of them to a set of sofas and seated them before skillfully pouring steaming hot black tea and serving an exquisite three-tier dessert stand.
“When Miss Hepburn learned you were coming, she specifically canceled an afternoon script discussion meeting,” the butler added with a smile. “She said that rather than listening to those screenwriters argue until they turned red in the face over a few lines of dialogue, chatting with you would be far more interesting.”
Lina picked up the delicate bone-china teacup and took a sip of the fragrant black tea. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
This was bad. It looked like her “economics master” persona had become completely established. She would have to be careful when they met later and make sure she did not expose herself.
“But Roland, I still don't understand.”
Accompanied by the crisp sound of heels striking the marble staircase, a somewhat hurried female voice came from the corner of the stairs.
The speaker was a young woman with short chestnut hair and thick round-framed glasses.
She was carrying a thick stack of scripts in her arms and closely followed beside Hepburn, her brows tightly furrowed and her tone filled with confusion.
“Vivian was the winner of last year's ‘Golden Rose Awards.’ Her acting is flawless, and she's beautiful enough as well. As for Elena, her box-office appeal is universally acknowledged. I don't understand why you think neither of them is suitable to play the female lead of ‘Blue Rose.’ This is our studio's biggest project for next year.”
“Vivian is too passionate, like the midday sun. As for Elena... her beauty is too compliant. She's missing a certain ‘thorn.’”
Roland Hepburn slowly descended the staircase.
If, during their first meeting at the café, she had been like a wildflower blooming quietly in a remote town, then at this moment, this top actress renowned across the continent finally revealed her true bearing.
She wore a dreamlike pale-blue evening gown. Layer upon layer of delicate gauze formed a flowing skirt reminiscent of the tranquil waters of the Rubis River outside Gaul City, gently rippling with each of her steps.
Rather than overshadowing her beauty, the elegant color palette made her exquisite golden hair and blue eyes appear even more holy and noble, like a golden sunrise emerging above the sea in the early dawn before the starlight had fully faded.
However, the screenwriter named Sophie was still preoccupied with the casting issue.
“But the protagonist in the script is a contradictory character to begin with. She has to be noble yet decadent, naturally carrying a faint melancholy and a touch of mystery... Where in the world could you find someone like th—”
Sophie's words came to an abrupt halt.
Because she followed Hepburn's gaze toward the lounge area of the hall.
There, a black-haired girl had just set down her teacup and slowly risen to her feet.
In that instant, this award-winning screenwriter who had spent years struggling in the film industry felt her heart skip a beat.
Within that hall filled with luxurious warm-toned decorations, the girl was like a musical note that did not belong to this world, abruptly yet perfectly embedded into the scene.
She was like the distinct black and white keys of a piano, drawing people into intoxication with a melody that was both soothing and mysterious.
Sophie's gaze lingered on the girl for a long time, yet she could not look away.
She found herself unable to come up with a single word to describe her. Every adjective seemed too shallow.
What she saw was a sense of story.
A sense of detachment, as though she stood outside the world's clamor, coldly observing both its splendor and decay. A sense of mystery, as though she stood in the light while the shadow beneath her feet was connected to the abyss.
The girl slightly turned her head, her faintly upturned golden eyes sweeping over the two people on the staircase.
The script in Sophie's hand nearly slipped to the floor.
This was the Blue Rose she had been searching for.
That mysterious flower that existed only in dreams.
She did not need any lines, nor any acting skill. As long as she stood there, she was the tragic protagonist who could move countless hearts.
“...I see now.”
Sophie pushed up the glasses on the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. The face that had previously been filled with doubt now held nothing but pure amazement.
“Compared to her, Vivian really is too noisy, and Elena truly is too vulgar.”
The young screenwriter closed the folder in her hands and turned toward Hepburn beside her, sincerely sighing in admiration.
“Your eye for talent is still frighteningly sharp, Miss Roland.”
Hepburn's lips curved into an elegant smile upon hearing that.
She did not respond to the screenwriter's praise. Instead, gathering the pale-blue skirt in her hands, she quickly walked toward that black-and-white “Blue Rose.”
“It's been a long time, Lina.”
There was genuine delight in Hepburn's voice as she extended a hand clad in a long velvet glove. Her manner was intimate without being improper.
“And these two lovely friends as well. Welcome to my ‘temporary haven.’”