17: Silent play shocked the audience

Lin Da sat stiffly on the wooden chair, holding the now cold tea.

The lights in the meeting room seemed to dim, enveloping him in a lonely shadow.

He didn't immediately start reciting his lines. Instead, he slowly raised his head, his gaze fixed on the void, as if penetrating the walls of the meeting room, seeing the layered palaces deep within the Forbidden City at night, and the little prince imprisoned in the cold palace.

His eyes were cloudy and sorrowful, like a dry well, bottomless.

What kind of desolation was that?

It was the despair of watching the sapling he had poured half his life's effort into nurturing about to be ravaged by merciless wind and rain.

It was the sense of fate, knowing it was impossible yet still trying, ultimately powerless to change anything.

More than that, it was the silent accusation of his own fate as a eunuch, an old servant barely surviving in the cracks of power.

Lin Da's lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only let out an almost inaudible sigh.

This sigh, light as air, yet like a huge rock, heavily struck the hearts of everyone present.

Zheng Guofeng's brows unconsciously twitched, and a strange light flickered in his eyes.

Qin Ya instinctively held her breath, her hands clasped tightly together.

The two screenwriters, even more so, widened their eyes, afraid of missing any detail.

Lin Da's performance continued.

He slowly lowered his head, his gaze falling on his hands, which were covered in wrinkles and age spots. Those hands, once strong and nimble, had once wielded a sword for the little prince and mended his clothes. But now, they could only powerlessly hold a cup of cold tea.

His shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably.

Not because of the cold, but because of a sorrow and helplessness that permeated from his very bones.

He seemed to see the little prince's innocent smiling face and hear him calling "Wei Companion" in his tender voice. Those warm images, at this moment, were like sharp knives, cruelly carving into his heart.

"Your Majesty…"

Lin Da finally spoke.

His voice was hoarse, dry, with the slowness and fatigue characteristic of an old man, yet it contained an unspeakable depth of affection and pain.

Just two words perfectly conveyed the complex yet genuine father-like and minister-like affection that Wei Zhongxian, the old eunuch, held for the little prince.

"This old servant… is useless…"

He lowered his head again, his forehead almost touching the cold teacup. His shoulders trembled even more violently, and suppressed sobs spilled from deep within his throat, intermittent, as if weeping and complaining.

He didn't wail or beat his chest.

That extreme sorrow was slowly released by him in an extremely restrained manner.

It was a pain that penetrated to the bone, a silent cry, a tearful accusation against the injustice of fate.

The meeting room was dead silent.

Everyone was deeply captivated by Lin Da's performance, as if they truly saw the old eunuch sitting alone in the palace at night, tormented by his inner struggles.

Every subtle expression, every trembling fingertip, was full of drama.

He didn't need a hysterical outburst to clearly convey the turbulent waves within the character's heart to every audience member.

This was acting!

This was the realm a truly good actor could achieve!

In Zheng Guofeng's eyes, a light shone brighter and brighter. He even unconsciously leaned forward, afraid of missing any subtle part of Lin Da's performance.

He had seen too many actors audition for this scene.

Some cried bitterly, acting as if insane; others feigned profundity, their faces expressionless.

But no one could portray the inner world of Wei Zhongxian so profoundly and movingly, in such an understated yet powerful way, as Lin Da did.

Lin Da's performance continued.

He slowly raised his head, his cloudy eyes already brimming with tears. But the tears never fell, only swirled in his eye sockets, reflecting his inner struggle and unwillingness.

"This old servant is unwilling… so unwilling…"

His voice was still hoarse, but it carried a hint of defiance.

He suddenly placed the teacup in his hand on the small table with a soft "bang."

This movement was abrupt and forceful, like a sudden clap of thunder, breaking the previous silence.

It was also like the last spark of resistance erupting from the old eunuch in despair.

His eyes, at this moment, also became sharp.

No longer the previous sorrow and helplessness, but with a hint of the ruthlessness and decisiveness of a power-player.

He seemed to have made a crucial decision in an instant, even if this decision would lead him to eternal damnation.

This emotional shift was completed in just a few seconds, yet it was fluid and natural, without any trace of artificiality.

Everyone present felt a jolt in their hearts.

This Lin Da's understanding of the character and control of emotions had simply reached a masterful level!

Finally, Lin Da slowly stood up, his hunched back seeming to straighten a bit at this moment.

He looked towards the void again, his eyes filled with complex and unreadable emotions. There was decisiveness, tragic grandeur, and also a hint of… calm acceptance of death.

He opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something more, but in the end, it only turned into a long sigh, full of a sense of destiny.

The performance was over.

Lin Da slowly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his gaze had returned to his own calm and clarity.

He bowed deeply again to Zheng Guofeng and the others.

The entire meeting room remained silent.

But this silence was different from the previous silence.

The previous silence was filled with scrutiny and expectation.

But the current silence was filled with shock and… a hint of disbelief.

Everyone was still immersed in Lin Da's silent performance just now, unable to recover for a long time.