When the words Young Alexander were spoken, the entire stadium stirred.
Everyone present remembered twelve years ago, when Sophia had been just seven years old. That role—her first acting breakthrough—was like a gift to the entertainment world.
She had disguised herself as a boy, stepping into the role of the future First Emperor.
And in those first three episodes of the TV series The Qin Empire, Sophia showed the audience something they had never expected: the aura of nobility, the elegance of history, and the majesty of an emperor rising.
Her performance stunned everyone.
Lines she delivered at that age still echoed in memory:
"This story that began with the sword will also end with the sword."
"Pride in the wilderness—you are not worthy of being my enemy."
"On the day I return to the world, all disobedient ministers shall die."
"Within a hundred miles, women, children, livestock, all will be burned to ash, and no grass shall grow for ten thousand years!"
Though only a child, she seemed like the First Emperor himself, stepping out of the annals of history.
---
On the Happy Family stage, host Hai Tao's round face softened with nostalgia.
"I remember that year," he said. "The series itself wasn't even very good. But Sophia's few appearances—just a handful of lines, a few commanding expressions—made the whole show unforgettable."
The audience murmured in agreement.
Scholars and educators had been shocked when her background was revealed. She had no training. No acting lessons. No formal cultural or artistic education. She had never attended a concert, had never watched a stage play, had barely even seen a film in a proper theater.
And yet—she had performed like an emperor.
"How was it possible?" the people whispered then, and they whispered now.
---
Dr. Harris, the former hospital director who had once overseen Victor's drug trial, spoke carefully from his seat.
"I'll say something others may find inappropriate," he began. "But could it be… that her performance had something to do with Victor?"
The audience stilled.
Dr. Harris continued: "I saw him once, enduring his illness. In that moment, his presence… it was like a movie scene. The force of his will was overwhelming."
The hosts exchanged glances and smiled faintly, leaving the question hanging.
Meanwhile, Charles, Clara White, and Principal Carter all looked conflicted.
Because the truth was, Victor at that time looked nothing like an actor. By the time Sophia was seven, he was already fat from the experimental drugs, often greasy from his work repairing cars or delivering food, always dirty and tired.
No aura. No nobility. Nothing emperor-like.
Sophia herself said nothing. But her silence was enough—it showed her agreement. She had never once seen her father as domineering or majestic.
Her memories of those years were nothing but alcohol, mental illness, and shame.
---
The playback shifted.
The program moved to its next segment, showcasing new contestants.
The first contestant had been about education. Sophia's brilliance had eclipsed it.
The second had been about music. Sophia's Under the Sea crushed it.
The third was about confidence and performance.
03 Contestant: Jiang Yue. A middle-aged, elegant woman in a high-end designer gown. Her background was prestigious. She was the director of a university acting department, earning over a million a year. Her husband was a successful businessman.
Together, they lived in a luxurious suburban villa, complete with both mahogany-style and European-style living rooms.
Her son's name: Adrian.
He had inherited her good looks, though his skin was pale, his frame thin, giving him an air of fragility.
At age seven, his parents enrolled him in a specialized performance class. By age ten, he had qualified as a child star. When The Qin Empire was being cast, he auditioned for Young Alexander.
---
The playback rolled.
Director Wallace, respected and stern, sat before him. He nodded, motioning for Adrian to begin.
The boy stood tall, expression brimming with confidence.
"Gu is Alexander, Guhui is the greatest king under heaven!"
His tone was exaggerated, his gestures overly dramatic. He radiated self-assurance, but it felt hollow, inflated.
Director Wallace frowned.
"Continue," he said.
"I am the Proton…" Adrian began again, but Wallace cut him short.
"Continue."
Again and again, ten times in a row, the director demanded more. Each time, Adrian repeated his lines with growing impatience. By the tenth attempt, his face was tight with anger.
Finally, Director Wallace shook his head.
"You are unqualified."
His voice was cold, absolute. He waved his hand. He did not need to flatter wealthy families. He did not need to bend.
Adrian forced a smile. "Thank you," he said, bowing politely. He walked out of the room with grace.
But outside, once certain no one was watching, his face twisted.
"Damn director! What rubbish! I acted perfectly. Who does he think he is? I've never been treated like this in my life!"
His voice was bitter, dripping with fury.
The playback ended.
---
Back in the stadium, Jiang Yue's face turned pale. She had known her son had failed the audition, but she hadn't known the program had captured his angry outburst afterward.
On the surface, her son had been polite. Behind closed doors, he was venomous.
Her forced smile revealed her shame. She thought of him now—studying abroad, calling her only to ask for money, his life drifting further into decline. The connection was obvious. He had never recovered from the blow of that rejection.
---
The jury shook their heads.
Sophia, however, watched intently.
This was the boy who had once competed with her for the same role. He had every advantage: wealth, training, connections. And yet, he had failed.
Her voice was calm but sharp:
"He had never suffered before. Everyone around him protected him, praised him. One setback, and he lost respect for the world. He looks gentle, but in truth, he is fragile."
The crowd erupted in agreement.
"Polite on the surface, cursing behind your back? That's worse than failure."
"Exactly. Sophia fought for the same role at the same age—she succeeded because she had strength."
"It's not about money or training. It's about character."
---
On Douyin, more than three million people were watching the live broadcast. The barrage of comments filled the screen.
"I still remember! Twenty years ago, child stars were everywhere. Most were polished performances, but Sophia was different—she lived the role."
"Yeah, all the rich kids, all the children from art families, they lined up for the role of Alexander. And Sophia, born at the bottom, with a father half-mad from illness, crushed them all."
"It's unimaginable. She had nothing, and yet she was the emperor."
"I can't wait for the next playback. At seven years old, she lived with a father unraveling from mental illness, and still, she bloomed. How did she persevere?"
"Respect. Pure respect."
---
The curtain froze again.
The question lingered in the stadium, whispered across the internet:
Can someone really calculate all this?
Could a man as broken as Victor truly have sown the seeds of an emperor's aura in his daughter?
Or was it Sophia alone—her will, her brilliance, her strength—that made her into what she became?
The debate had no answer.
Not yet.
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