The Male Stand-in Just Wants to Make Money – Chapter 26

Xu Lang lowered his head to glance at his phone, then looked up at the person sitting in the master bedroom, typing on the keyboard.

Two identical voices echoed in his ears, overlapping perfectly.

For a brief moment, the world felt unreal.

Chen Bai had promised to finish the game quickly, since Brother Xu was still waiting in the living room to get the spare key. He didn’t play his usual bait-and-switch tactics but instead rushed through with a sniper rifle, pushing straight to victory.

In just over ten minutes, the match ended.

After saying goodbye to his teammates and the viewers in the livestream chat, he took off his headphones and got up from his seat.

Brother Xu had been very well-behaved—he had said he would wait in the living room, and he actually did.

The moment Chen Bai entered the room, Xu Lang quickly stood up. His face, neck, and even the tips of his ears turned red, and his hand fidgeted unconsciously with the fabric of his school uniform pants.

Not quite the arrogant and rebellious kid that the good neighbor had described.

On the contrary, this younger brother seemed a little… shy.

And slightly afraid of strangers.

Seeing is believing.

Chen Bai didn’t comment on it and simply told the shy brother to wait a moment while he searched for the key.

He occasionally used the spare key, but most of the time, it sat on the cabinet near the entrance alongside his own keys.

Sometimes, though, he would shove it into a coat pocket without thinking.
Other times, it would end up on the coffee table or even a random cabinet in his bedroom.

As he rummaged through his things, Xu Lang hesitated for a moment before shifting his weight slightly.

Finally, when Chen Bai turned to look at him, he gathered his courage and said, “I… I can wait here for my brother to come back.”

A very thoughtful person—no wonder he was the good neighbor’s good little brother.

Chen Bai was genuinely touched but still replied, “I’m going to be playing games. It might disturb your studying.”

According to his current intel, if this good little brother didn’t finish his homework, his phone would probably be confiscated.

“…”

Xu Lang had completely forgotten about his homework.

His fingers tightened around his phone before he stiffened his neck and said in an unnaturally serious tone, “I can’t concentrate on my homework by myself.”

A pure, unfiltered lie—without a shred of hesitation.

Pink Hair paused his search for the key.

“Really?”

Xu Lang nodded firmly.

“Okay then.”

Without a trace of suspicion, Chen Bai stopped looking for the key altogether.

“I’ll message your brother. You can stay here and do your homework.”

Then he pointed toward the kitchen.

“If you’re thirsty, there’s boiled water in the kitchen. The cup with the strawberry pattern is your brother’s. Just give it a quick rinse, and you can use it.”

“…?”

That was too much information in one sentence.

Or maybe he was simply stuck on the words ‘strawberry pattern.’

For a few seconds, Xu Lang was speechless. Eventually, he managed to force out a hesitant, “Okay.”

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he added, “Thank you.”

The pink-haired man waved it off with a “You’re welcome”, then encouraged him with a “Good luck” before heading back into his room—efficient and completely at ease.

Xu Lang sat on the sofa in the living room, feeling slightly dazed.

For a moment, he didn’t know whether to look at his phone or at the real person in front of him.

His brother had told him that someone would be opening the door for him.

But he hadn’t expected that person to live next door.

And he definitely hadn’t expected it to be Chen Erbai.

——No wonder the clothes looked familiar. No wonder the voice was too familiar.

It felt surreal.

But it was real.

If he had known earlier that his brother knew Erbai, and if he had known Erbai was the person next door,

Then he wouldn’t have waited until today to come here.

If he had known earlier,

He would have moved his computer—and himself—here ages ago.

At that moment, the person in the master bedroom moved, as if about to turn his head.

Xu Lang panicked.

He quickly put down his phone, pulled out his textbooks and test papers, and grabbed a pen—striking the perfect pose of a serious, hardworking student.

Luckily, the person in the master bedroom only adjusted his headphones and didn’t actually look back.

Exhaling in relief, Xu Lang glanced at his phone, then at the figure in the other room.

After a moment of hesitation, he set his phone aside, left one earbud in, and picked up his pen.

For the sake of keeping his phone… he had to at least pretend to try.

That night, the livestream platform underwent maintenance from midnight to 5 AM, forcing all broadcasts to shut down.

Chen Bai, who rarely ended his streams this early, found himself wide awake—his internal clock completely thrown off.

Then he remembered—there was still a certain high schooler in his living room.

With a glass of water in hand, he got up to check.

The hardworking student was still doing his homework.

His pen tapped rhythmically against the test paper, then he scribbled down an answer before quickly jumping to the next question.

“…”

Chen Bai had to admit—

Not dwelling too long on questions you didn’t understand was actually a pretty good habit.

But skipping even the first major question?

That seemed a little dangerous.

Setting his cup of water on the table, he asked, “Your brother won’t be back for a while. Want to head home and rest first?”

Chen Bai was used to staying up late, but a normal high school student shouldn’t be pushing it this much.

Xu Lang tightened his grip on his pen and insisted, “I’ll do my homework here for a while.”

Bad at studying, but hardworking.

Chen Bai respected that.

He didn’t press further and went back to searching for the missing key.

When he finally found it, he returned to the living room—only to see that his hardworking guest had somehow finished an entire test paper.

Or rather—

He had blindly filled in all the multiple-choice questions and scribbled answers for every major problem.

A speedrun strategy not many people could pull off.

Chen Bai set the key down and asked, “Need help?”

He smiled. “Don’t be fooled by my appearance—I’m actually a pretty good tutor.”

After all, he used to tutor students for money.

But since this was his good neighbor’s little brother, he’d do it for free.

The hardworking student immediately accepted the offer and politely thanked him.

In an attempt to appear less clueless, Xu Lang carefully selected a test paper he had at least tried on, then handed over a pen and draft paper.

In reality, his accuracy rate was no different from guessing.

Pink Hair took the pen and began reading his work.

As the distance closed, Xu Lang subconsciously sat up straight, his back perfectly upright.

“A small ball slides down the curved rail and pushes the wooden block forward… The calculated speed of the wooden block is 83 meters per second.”

Chen Bai glanced sideways. “Do you know Fuxing?”

Xu Lang didn’t actually understand, but he still nodded and said he did.

“Three hundred miles per hour,” Chen Bai stated matter-of-factly. “This little wooden block of yours is moving as fast as the Fuxing Express.”

At this speed, that wooden block could tour the entire country without a problem.

“…”

With this real-world reference, Xu Lang finally grasped the extent of his mistake.

Chen Bai then explained the entire problem step by step.

As Xu Lang watched the same hands that usually tapped on a keyboard or controlled a mouse now holding a pen, carefully writing out formulas, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder.

His favorite streamer was tutoring him in physics.

Chen Bai started from the basic equations, then methodically worked through each formula, explaining how they were derived.

The most incredible part?

Xu Lang actually understood it.

And because it was his favorite streamer explaining it, he listened intently to every word, his thoughts clearer than ever before.

It was strange—how knowledge could enter the brain in such an unexpected way.

By the end of the session, Xu Lang had completed a quarter of his test paper on his own.

No guessing. No blind filling-in.

Just pure problem-solving.

As Chen Bai’s good neighbor finished work and headed home, he paused the tutoring session, took a sip of water, and told Xu Lang to pack up his things.

Surprisingly, the high school student packed his bag painfully slowly, putting away one pen at a time.

Seeing this, Chen Bai casually started chatting, asking, “Your brother mentioned you like playing games. What do you usually play?”

Xu Lang glanced at the pink-haired man curled up on the sofa and replied with the name of his favorite game.

Chen Bai raised an eyebrow, then grinned.

“What a coincidence,” he said. “I play that sometimes too.”

Xu Lang knew that.

And “sometimes” was a serious understatement.

After hesitating for a moment, he finally asked, “If there’s a chance in the future, can we play together?”

“Sure.”

The pink-haired man agreed without hesitation—then casually glanced at the half-packed schoolbag and added,

“After you finish your homework.”

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.

Chen Bai got up to open it, ending their conversation.

Sure enough, his good neighbor had arrived.

And not just that—he had also brought a small cake.

As soon as the door opened, the man greeted Chen Bai, then handed him the cake box.

“This was ordered by the crew tonight.”

Chen Bai accepted it with delight, thanking his kind-hearted neighbor.

The good neighbor’s gaze flicked past him and landed on the high schooler in the school uniform standing inside.

The moment their eyes met, Xu Lang stiffened—then quickly walked over.

As the high school student was led away, he couldn’t resist sneaking one last glance back at the half-open door behind him.

From the doorway, Pink Hair popped his head out, smiling as he waved goodbye.

One door opened.

The other closed.

Inside the apartment, the lights flicked on.

Xu Lang walked in, glanced around, and immediately asked,

“Brother, where’s my cake?”

The man beside him calmly put down his coat and responded,

“There isn’t any.”

Xu Lang: “?”

His brother turned to look at him, then asked, “Where’s your homework?”

“Right here.”

Xu Lang hurriedly followed up, puffing out his chest as he added, “I even finished part of it.”

For once, it wasn’t a lie.

And so, he said it with full confidence.

It was already late at night.

Xu Sinian didn’t press the issue further—he simply told his brother to wash up and get some sleep.

But Xu Lang didn’t move.

Instead, he stood there, backpack still strapped to his shoulders, and cautiously—but boldly—asked,

“Can I go next door again tomorrow? …To do my homework?”

“…”

The next day, Xu Lang reported to the next-door apartment again—backpack and all.

For him, this short holiday turned out to be the most fulfilling one yet.

Some high school students come to the old town feeling like they’re walking to their death, counting down the seconds until they can leave.

Xu Lang?

By the time he had to go back, he refused to leave.

He clutched the door handle, asking when he could visit again—and only let go once he got an answer.

And it wasn’t his own door handle he was gripping—

It was the one next door.

Clearly, there was only one person he was reluctant to leave.

Though he never got the chance to play games together with Erbai since he was busy with homework,

Most of their conversations had revolved around solving problems—yet somehow, he still enjoyed every second of it.

He got to eat the food Erbai cooked.

He got to watch him play games in person.

And the sound of the keyboard clicks in real life was completely different from what he heard in the videos.

Even Erbai’s voice was nicer in person.

And—he even smiled at him.

Totally different from his brother.

In the end, the boy clinging to the door handle was dragged into a car and taken away.

Before leaving, he never got a clear answer on when he could come back.

After returning from a job picking locks, Chen Bai found his good neighbor waiting for him.

“No need to cook for three people anymore,” the man said.

Chen Bai blinked. “Brother left?”

The good neighbor nodded. “Time to go back to school.”

Chen Bai sighed. “What a shame.”

High school vacations were way too short.

Just when things were getting fun, it was already over.

His good neighbor responded with a simple “Mm.”

No further comment.

With Xu Lang gone, Chen Bai’s daily routine shifted back—

No more helping with homework.

Instead, he spent his time reading scripts, watching reference videos, and studying historical materials.

He had already memorized his audition script.

Now, he wanted to see how others approached similar roles.

The historical materials weren’t boring, either—some were surprisingly interesting.

The day of the audition arrived.

Chen Bai’s money-making partner went with him, meaning he didn’t have to squeeze into a packed subway.

That extra morning rest time was precious.

The agent, driving without complaint, eventually commented,

“Sooner or later, I’ll have to ask the company to assign you a personal driver.”

Then, after a pause, he glanced over and asked,

“So? Feeling confident?”

Chen Bai wouldn’t make bold claims about something uncertain.

So, he simply responded,

“I’m well-prepared.”

Chen Bai didn’t claim to be confident, and his agent was even less certain.

When he was working on his previous crew, she had been busy with other things and never had the chance to see him act in person.

She had only heard the director’s praise afterward, but without witnessing it herself, she had no idea what to expect today.

The production team for this audition was for a high-profile drama titled “Asking Destiny”—

Big-budget.
Big-name director.
First-rate screenwriter.

Even before filming had begun, it was already clear—this was going to be a major hit.

Industry companies were desperate to secure roles for their actors.

Naturally, competition was brutal.

The two roles Chen Bai was auditioning for were:

1. Fourth Male Lead – a doctor who climbed the ranks from the bottom.
2. Third Male Lead – a noble dandy, not exactly a fan-favorite, but still a major supporting role.

The third male lead had more screen time, but given the scale of this production, securing that role as a newcomer would be incredibly difficult.

The fact that the production team had sent both scripts made it clear—

They were primarily considering him for the fourth male lead. The third was more of a “just in case” offer.

The only silver lining was that his agency was one of the show’s investors—and not just a minor one.

At the very least, they didn’t have to worry about him getting eliminated for political reasons.

But in the end, backing alone wasn’t enough.

He still had to prove himself.

In the car, Chen Bai was munching on a red bean bun, flipping through his script between bites.

After finishing his food, he closed his eyes for a quick nap.

There was some nervous anticipation, but nothing overwhelming.

The audition was being held in a luxurious building in the Cultural Park.

By the time they arrived, a preliminary selection process had already been conducted.

The number of candidates was smaller than expected—

Only a handful of people sat in the waiting area, and most weren’t talking much.

If Chen Bai had browsed entertainment news more often, he probably would have recognized a few familiar faces.

But he didn’t.

His phone was strictly for work chats and the occasional board game.

He had no idea who anyone was.

After checking in with the staff, he found a seat and took a sip of water to shake off his lingering drowsiness.

All around him, people were coming and going—

Every time the audition room door opened, someone else stepped out.

And without fail, their expressions looked grim.

His agent, Gao Qian, had just returned from socializing with some industry contacts.

Leaning slightly toward him, she whispered, “The director is being brutally blunt today. Prepare yourself.”

Pink Hair nodded.

A moment later, the door opened.

It was his turn.

Upon stepping inside, the first thing he saw was the man sitting behind a simple desk setup.

Gray-haired.
A cigarette tucked behind his ear.
Drinking from a water bottle.

The sign in front of him read: Director Zhang Zhi.

Chen Bai had a hunch—

The director was probably drinking water to recharge before delivering his next round of sharp criticism.

His first audition piece was for the fourth male lead—

A doctor who had risen through the ranks on merit alone.

This character had come from the countryside but was well-read and highly skilled.

Even after serving as an official in the capital for years, he had remained untainted by corruption.

But in a world where one was either a fresh breeze or swallowed by the filth,

This doctor had no power, no allies—

And in the end, he became a casualty of political faction disputes.

The scene for his audition was a pivotal moment—

The doctor, falsely accused of conspiring with traitors, had been forced to write a farewell letter in his study before the Jinyiwei arrived to arrest him.

In the center of the audition room stood a table, set with:

A sheet of white paper.
A calligraphy brush.
An inkstone.

A proper scholar’s desk.

Lowering his gaze, he rolled his wrist slightly—then stepped forward.

His simple robes moved with him as he entered the camera’s frame.

At first, his posture seemed relaxed.

But the moment he approached the desk,

His entire presence shifted.

There were no dramatic expressions.

No furrowed brows.
No clenched fists.

Yet, the tension was undeniable—

It radiated from his slowed pace…

From the way his hands, hanging too loosely at his sides, felt as if they might snap at any moment.

Gao Qian watched in silence.

At some point, her arms, which had been crossed over her chest, relaxed slightly.

And in that moment, she finally understood—

No wonder the previous director had praised him.

She had worked with many artists.

Many had tried to become actors.

But this was the first time she had seen someone with such natural talent.

The room was dead silent.

The only sounds were the camera clicks and the soft hum of a laptop fan.

He had pink hair.

He wore casual clothes.

And yet—

The moment he spoke, the moment he picked up the pen—

A scholar came to life.

This scene should have ended here.

But the director, who was supposed to speak, remained silent.

The camera kept rolling.

Gao Qian, who had just begun to relax, suddenly felt uneasy again.

This kind of unexpected delay was a real test of an actor’s mindset.

But Pink Hair had been through worse.

He had worked countless odd jobs.

Faced countless unexpected situations.

His mental endurance was top-tier.

Since no one spoke and no one called “cut”,

He continued.

Without hesitation, he picked up the brush.

With a fluid motion, he lifted his sleeve slightly—then, head bowed, he began writing.

His fingers were long and elegant, perfectly suited to holding a brush.

Dark ink spread across the white paper, revealing three simple characters under the dim glow of his light gray eyes:

【Are you ready?】

The last character was written in traditional Chinese.

“…”

The director coughed lightly and finally said, “Okay.”

The staff’s faces remained neutral.

But under the table, fingers clenched and unclenched repeatedly—

Fighting desperately to hold back laughter.

Mouths curved slightly upward, then quickly fell.

Only then did Chen Bai set down the pen, roll his wrist slightly, and step back.

The segment was over.

Yet, the director gave no feedback.

No criticism.
No praise.

Just a moment of thought—

Before finally saying:

“Try the other role.”

Flipping through the script, he handed it to an assistant.

“Just the restaurant scene,” he instructed.

Then, as he glanced at the serious-looking director,

Chen Bai was pretty sure—

He had just seen the man’s hidden smile behind that beard.

He noticed it.

But the ever-thoughtful Pink-Haired Man chose not to point it out.

The assistant assigned to act alongside him was no stranger to playing last-minute roles.

After briefly scanning the script, he circled around the table and stepped forward.

His role had no lines—just a restaurant waiter, moving a chair and standing by.

While the assistant arranged the chairs,

Pink Hair casually borrowed a script from a lucky audience member nearby,

Rolled it up, and—

Just like that—turned it into a prop fan.

The director said, “Start whenever you’re ready.”

Chen Bai smiled. “Thank you.”

Those seated nearby, enjoying their front-row VIP seats,

Found their ears turning red under the intensity of those light gray eyes.

The man holding the rolled-up script turned.

And with that single movement,

His entire presence shifted.

A dandy was a simple character to describe,

But a difficult one to portray.

This nobleman spent his days in drunken pleasure,

Indulging in luxuries and laziness,

Yet, he was not a mere second-generation rich boy.

He was born into a royal bloodline—his status fundamentally different.

The trick to this character was balance.

Some people acted noble.

Others were noble.

Pink Hair’s mannerisms—the way he moved, the way he carried himself—

Didn’t seem like acting at all.

Watching him, Gao Qian suddenly recalled—

Wasn’t this person also a young master?

The man holding the script sat back on the chair,

Slouched slightly—but not carelessly.

Relaxed, but composed.

With a lazy flick of the wrist, he gestured for the waiter to come forward.

The servant approached, bending down to receive his order.

“He’s good-looking.”

The words were casual—almost as if spoken to himself.

Yet, the moment they left his lips,

He lifted the rolled-up script and tipped the waiter’s chin upward.

The force was neither too light nor too firm—

Just enough to make the waiter lift his head.

And when their eyes met—

The man lounging in the chair gazed down from above.

A pair of light gray pupils.

Pink hair.

An unconcealed scrutiny—

Arrogant. Dismissive. Regal.

That gaze was scalding.

Like heat seeping into the skin.

And then—

The corners of those gray eyes curved into a smile.

The smirk traveled from his eyes down to his lips.

Chin resting on one hand, sleeve slipping to reveal a pale wrist—

He spoke casually:

“Why don’t you stay with me?”

His voice was like shattered jade hitting the ground.

Crisp. Piercing.

Before the sound even faded,

It had already sunk deep into the listener’s mind.

According to the script—

The waiter was supposed to flinch and retreat in panic.

But the assistant didn’t move.

His eyes remained locked on the man in front of him.

Under the soft light, he could see the curve of those long eyelashes,

The sharp line of his jaw—

The lingering arrogance in that smile.

The clip ended there.

The director called “cut”,

And the Pink-Haired Man, still holding the waiter’s chin,

Promptly withdrew his hand.

“My apologies,” he said politely.

“…”

The room filled with muted noise—

The assistant, finally snapping back to reality,

Straightened up and quickly waved his hands.

“It’s fine! It’s fine!”

…That was close!

A second later, he would have almost blurted out “OK.”

What a terrifying guy.

Some actors could pull you into a role in an instant.

But just as easily—they could snap you back to reality.

After standing up, Pink Hair first patted his waist.

Then, as his agent came over to retrieve the script,

He muttered, “Almost got twisted into a knot.”

“Like one of those ugly-shaped fried dough twists that never sell.”

“Even when they’re on discount.”

This damn chair wasn’t big enough—

And sitting in a “stylish” position meant sacrificing his waist.

Considering how many hours he spent gaming, his waist was already in a fragile state.

This… only made it worse.

“…”

This time, someone couldn’t hold back anymore.

A laugh escaped from somewhere in the room.

The serious-looking director quickly pressed his hands against his cheeks,

Trying to hide the corners of his mouth.

Audition over.

Stepping outside the room, Pink Hair finally breathed fresh air again.

As they walked out, Gao Qian recalled the director’s expression,

And already had a good idea of the results.

She didn’t bring it up.

Instead, she tilted her head curiously.

“Your calligraphy is surprisingly good. Did you train?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid,” Chen Bai answered with a smile.

“My grandpa was a calligrapher. He made me practice for a while, so I learned a little.”

A little.

How many times had she heard him say that already?

At this point, Gao Qian had learned her lesson.

She glanced sideways at the Pink-Haired Man and asked,

“What else can you do?”

“Not much.”

Chen Bai casually gestured, indicating a small gap between his fingers.

Still smiling, he replied:

“Just a little.”

Author’s Note:

Chen Erbai’s Universe at His Fingertips.

P.S.: Dear readers, Qingzhou and Brother Xu are two different people!

P.P.S.: (Acting like nothing happened) (Today’s word count) (Acting like nothing happened)