Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

Chapter 156 Awkward Yet Sincere Efforts
When Tian Xiwei arrived at the gate of Tongliang Middle School, it was not yet time for the evening self-study session to end.

The security room was lit by a dim, yellow light.

She emerged from the half-open wrought iron sliding gate and looked around.

In front of me was an eight-meter-wide cement road, with tattered New Year's Day ribbons wrapped around the bare branches of the sycamore trees along the roadside.

Looking to the left, there is a 20-meter-long school wall, with cigarette butts and milk tea cups at its base.

I didn't see Jiang Yang's silver Corolla.

I didn't actually recognize the Corolla logo; I only recognized the Toyota logo and the silver body of Jiang Yang's car.

To the right is a cluster of old-fashioned shops built in the last century.

There's a Chenguang stationery store with its glass doors plastered with "Final Exam Sprint" signs, a Typhoon Shelter milk tea shop, and a bookstore selling educational supplements.

I've walked this street for almost three years, and I know exactly what every shop sells.

Before Jiang Yang arrived, she quickly jogged into the Typhoon Shelter Milk Tea shop:

"Two cups of bubble tea, hot."

Carrying two takeout bubble teas, I returned to the school gate to wait.

When you practice folk dance, you get used to standing with your heels together and your toes naturally apart.

Fingers unconsciously tangled around the backpack strap.

The final exams for this semester are in a few days, but that's not important. What's important is the art exams in a little over two weeks.

In the dance class, most students applied to the Sichuan Conservatory of Music and the Art College of Chongqing University.

These are local art colleges in Chongqing, where a high percentage of applicants are from, and the academic requirements are relatively low.

If your professional skills meet the minimum requirement and your academic score reaches 300, you can be admitted.

My parents also suggested that I apply to a local university, to be on the safe side.

My family wasn't wealthy; we were just ordinary working-class people living in an old-style tenement building.

My parents fully support my desire to learn dance.

I enrolled myself in a children's dance class in elementary school, and I changed my dance clothes and shoes three or four times a year. The annual expenses amounted to 20,000 yuan.

I took private lessons at a professional institution when I was in high school.

Medical expenses for my own meniscus injury, covered by annual dance student-specific insurance.

When I was little, I didn't understand and thought everyone had these things.

I only realized when I grew up that it was all built with money.

Every time I ask my parents how much money I spent, they always say it wasn't much and that I shouldn't feel pressured. They tell me to just tell them if I need money.

I did some calculations myself last month.

It's already over 100,000.

When I was little, I felt that my parents were supporting my hobbies and interests.

I later found out that my parents had emptied their savings to support my dream.

My younger sister doesn't have these hobbies. She always says that she's satisfied as long as she can watch cartoons and read comics.

Is it really?

Tian Xiwei did not think so.

Once, my parents took my younger sister to watch me perform at the organization. When my sister saw me on stage, wearing my costume and shining brightly, she couldn't hide her longing for me.

But when she heard that the outfit cost 400 yuan, my sister said she wouldn't learn to dance anymore, because 400 yuan could buy a lot of comic books.

I've always felt indebted to my younger sister.

I may have robbed my sister of her dream.

Because of the family's financial situation, they could only support one child to learn dance.

If I hadn't been born, or if my sister had been born first, it's possible that my sister would have been the one to go down this path.

My parents support me, my sister understands me, and all I need to do is try my best.

How fortunate to be born into such a family.

The parents' lie about concealing the true cost of the expenses.

The younger sister, trying to hide her envy, was very sensible.

The feeling of being supported by the whole family, both fortunate and guilty.

I must be successful in the future.

It's for myself, but even more so for my family.

The mirrors in the practice room never lie; they can reflect a swan's neck as well as a meniscus injury.

When Tian Xiwei registered for the art exam, she did not listen to her parents' advice and applied to local schools.

Because I know that my professional skills and academic performance are up to standard, and I understand the importance of my first degree.

No matter how strong your professional skills are, companies only recognize academic qualifications when hiring.

What I really wanted to apply to was the Beijing Dance Academy, the top dance school in China.

Unfortunately, the Beijing Dance Academy only admits a handful of students from Chongqing each year, and the professional requirements are extremely high, which I cannot meet.

So even if you register, you probably won't dare to go to the art exam.

The brutal struggle behind dreams. Local universities, considered as backup options, are not enough; top universities, however, are too intimidating to apply to.

They are targeting two other institutions.

They are Shanghai Theatre Academy and Nanjing University of the Arts, respectively.

Tian Xi looked around and then towards the intersection.

The first car waiting at the red light had an illegible license plate and logo; all that could be made was that it was a sedan, and its color was silver.

Suddenly, I recalled the silhouette of the headlights being cut off at the entrance of the side alley four days ago.

The mint in my mouth had already melted.

I exhaled and smelled it; it was refreshing.

I touched the milk tea; it was still warm.

A clumsy yet sincere effort.

"It's a pity that time is too tight, otherwise I would definitely go home and take a shower. I still have sweat from dance practice on my body. I hope Jiang Yang won't smell it later."

Zip up your school uniform to the collar to try and prevent your sweat odor from escaping.

Looking down at her toes, she breathed lightly.

Control your emotions and don't be nervous.

Strive to present your best self.

Jiang Yang, who was waiting at the traffic light, did not notice the commotion at the entrance of Tongliang Middle School. He was looking at the group messages displayed on his phone.

It's Zhao Jin and Mai Jian's QQ group.

After Yang Chaoyue bought the new iPhone 6, he temporarily gave the old flip Nokia to Zhao Jinmai to play with.

There were only three people in the group: Jiang Yang, Yang Chaoyue, and Zhao Jinmai.

When Jiang Yang saw the group name "[Three Scoundrels]", he immediately left the group.

I'm currently living here and people call me "teacher," and at university job fairs they call me "boss." In the end, I'm treated like a nobody in Zhao Jinmai's group chat.

Zhao Jinmai sent a message: "I'm going home tomorrow, and I won't have my phone to play with anymore. I just found out that my mom has actually learned how to use QQ. The first message she sent me was to remind me that it's the last day and I need to focus on my studies when I get home. My mom has changed, but not much."

The message included tags for Jiang Yang and Yang Chaoyue.

Yang Chaoyue sent a hugging emoji.

Jiang Yang did not reply.

These two sleep in the same bed, so why do they need to chat in the group?
I don't understand what these underage kids are thinking.

Zhao Jinmai posted another message: [“Being a child is so tiring. In my next life, I want to be a happy little dog. @Jiang Yang, stop pretending to be dead.”]
Yang Chaoyue sent a message: ["If you see me on the street, remember to bark, I'll take care of you."]
Jiang Yang typed back: [“I’ll give you a big one.”]
Zhao Jinmai: [“@Jiang Yang, are you even human?”]
Yang Chaoyue: ["+1"]
When the red light turned green, Jiang Yang put away his phone, shifted gears, and stepped on the gas.

As I slowly pulled up beside Tongliang Middle School, I saw Tian Xiwei waving in her school uniform, her smile beaming and revealing two shallow dimples.

He subconsciously wanted to speak in the Chongqing dialect, but before he could finish, he changed his mind and switched to standard Mandarin: "Jiang Yang, long time no see."

"Have you been waiting long, you old man?" Jiang Yang chuckled, unlocking the car door as he did so.

"I didn't have to wait long; I just arrived myself."

"Come up and set it up."

The Corolla's windows weren't tinted, so Tian Xiwei could see that Jiang Yang was the only person inside.

Yang Chaoyue, who had helped him last time, was not in the back seat, nor was the little girl who snored loudly while sleeping in the passenger seat.

She placed her hand on the car door handle and paused for a second, but did not open the car door.

In the end, I chose the back row, thinking it would be more polite.

As soon as they got on the bus, Jiang Yang said, "Tian Xiwei, come sit in the front. What are we doing chatting in the back? I need your help later. It's something related to dance."

"Okay, okay."

Open the passenger door and get in the car.

Tian Xi fastened her seatbelt. Unlike that night when she cried her heart out in the alley, she got into the car silently, her face grim, and stared out the window, lost in thought.

While waiting for Jiang Yang, I recalled my behavior in Jiang Yang's car last time and felt ashamed.

It may have left a bad impression on Jiang Yang.

That wasn't the person I usually am, nor was it the person I am in private; it was a version of myself that I never knew before.

This time, Tian Xiwei did not sit with her back against the seat back; she only sat on the front two-thirds of the seat.

When fastening your seatbelt, slightly raise your wrist and let your fingertips droop.

Knees together at an angle, toes turned inward, subconsciously straightening the lumbar spine.

The backpack was a dance bag style, placed on her lap, with the corner of her flowing sleeves peeking out from the unzipped zipper.

Jiang Yang's phone rang.

It's a message from Zhang Ruonan: ["Boss, I'm ready. I can dance for you anytime."]
I glanced at the time; it was exactly 10 o'clock.

Jiang Yang really likes employees who are punctual.

The "harvesting" attribute works very well.

"Jiang Yang, bubble tea, bought from the Typhoon Shelter shop at school." Tian Xiwei handed a cup of bubble tea to Jiang Yang.

(End of this chapter)