Roy didn't want to admit that he was inferior to anyone—especially not to a man his wife referred to as her idol. He would rather she idolized people from other professions—photographers, musicians, anyone—but not another actor. If someone was better than him in a different field, fine, he could accept that. But when it came to acting, he simply couldn't bear to lose!
On the way home, he had been silent the whole ride until he finally couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Between him and me… whose acting is better?"
Laila, who had been going through some documents, looked up, startled by the sudden question. "Him and who?"
"Zhang! Leslie Cheung!" he said, eyes fixed on the road ahead. The neon lights streaming through the car window cast a shifting glow across his face, highlighting a certain loneliness in his profile.
Laila couldn't help but laugh. "Are you still hung up on that?" She had already noticed his competitiveness while filming Silence. But to think he was still brooding now, even as the film was about to premiere—it was honestly a little surprising.
"I just want to know your answer," Roy said seriously.
If she answered purely as a fan, Laila would've blurted out Cheung's name without hesitation. Don't underestimate the power of a fan's filter—plenty of "talentless" idols still had legions of rabid fans cheering them on. And Cheung's acting could actually hold its own—there was plenty there to brag about.
But Laila wasn't just a fan. She was also someone deeply committed to the craft of filmmaking. And as a wife, she wasn't the type to blindly say, "My husband's the best."
"I think both of your performances are excellent," she replied. "But when it comes to interpreting certain details, your approaches are quite different. That's a natural result of cultural differences between East and West. It's like arguing whether rice dumpling should be sweet or savory. Sweet ones taste great, savory ones taste great too. There's no need to determine which is better, don't you think?"
At a red light, Roy gave her a complicated look. "Isn't this the moment when you're supposed to back your husband? Even if it's a lie, shouldn't you say I'm the better one?"
Laila giggled and ruffled his hair. "I don't say things I don't mean. And honestly, it is hard to judge who's better. Would you really want your wife to lie to you?"
Roy could only give a helpless smile and shake his head.
In truth, if she had immediately said he was better, he probably would've suspected she was just trying to make him feel better. But hearing her thoughtful, sincere answer made it hard for him to keep obsessing over it.
Still… there was one thing he needed to clarify.
"So, am I a sweet rice dumpling or a savory one?"
"...You're a big rice dumpling who likes eating black donkey hooves."
Roy froze. Black donkey hooves? What was that? And a rice dumpling that likes eating something? What kind of rice dumpling has preferences?
"Is it like pork trotters? Are they wrapped inside the rice dumpling?" he asked, thoroughly confused.
Laila couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. She burst out laughing, shaking with mirth, tears nearly coming out.
In the end, Roy never got the answer he truly wanted from his wife. At least his son was more loyal. When Roy asked him the same question, the boy enthusiastically covered his face with saliva—an act of brotherhood, apparently. Looking at his son's toddler version of a domineering CEO face, Roy realized how silly he'd been to overthink any of this.
Who was the better actor? The most straightforward proof would be in the awards. Once Silence entered awards season next year, they'd see who was left standing in the end.
He did acknowledge that Cheung was an excellent actor, with his own distinct style and charm. That enigmatic aura around him was captivating, even to Roy himself, his so-called "rival." But that didn't mean Roy was inferior.
In fact, he had more advantages than that man.
First of all, his existing fanbase. Sure, Leslie Cheung was one of Asia's most famous superstars. But Roy wasn't exactly obscure in the West either. In fact, when it came to movie fans, Roy had far more global followers than Cheung.
Sure, Cheung was also a singer with countless fans enchanted by his voice. But Roy had sung too! And some of the songs he performed were still being passed around today. He simply hadn't pursued a singing career. But if he had, who's to say he wouldn't have become a world-class singer himself?
Second, he had a major edge that the other man didn't—Laila.
He had grown under Laila's guidance.
He had acted in many of her films—even if he wasn't the lead, he would always try to get at least a cameo. Through all that, he had received one-on-one training from her and had learned countless things just by watching her direct others.
Only those who had worked with Laila could truly understand how brilliant she was at managing actors. And he was the one who benefited the most.
She might say he wasn't the best actor, but he would absolutely say she was the best director. After learning under the best for so many years, he had full confidence in his ability to go up against any rival—and beat them with pure acting skill.
As the weather gradually turned cooler, the promotional campaign for Silence also began heating up. What started as traditional publicity slowly escalated to a full-blown media blitz.
During this time, Laila took Roy and Leslie Cheung on a whirlwind tour of several Asian countries. After that, she brought both male leads on a press circuit around the West.
With Laila's own fame and presence, Silence became a highly anticipated film from the very beginning. And the two male leads were constantly swarmed by the media, who were desperate to dig up every possible detail about them.
Roy was relatively better off in this regard. Having been in Hollywood for years, there wasn't much left to uncover about him. Anyone who tried digging deeper would probably receive a polite warning from the Moran family.
Cheung, on the other hand, had a much harder time. Though he'd long been hounded by paparazzi, the Hollywood ones were on a whole other level. Compared to them, the ones back home might as well have had a battle power of five.
And because Western audiences didn't know much about him, there was a lot of fresh dirt to be found, which made him all the more valuable in the eyes of the tabloids.
So during their time in the U.S., while assisting Laila with the film's promotion, Cheung ended up swarmed nonstop by paparazzi. Eventually, he gave up and just stayed holed up in his hotel room, letting his assistant and manager handle everything else.
Among the many promotional avenues, appearing on NBC's late-night talk show was a must.
The collaboration went smoothly. Jimmy knew exactly what questions the audience wanted answered, and Laila always managed to respond in a way that left everyone satisfied.