Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

The incident in Chapter 224 hurt me deeply.
"It's okay, Teacher Huang, I have the strength." Tian Xi's voice suddenly rose, eager to prove herself.

Huang Lei interrupted, saying, "Clearing the area requires order. Good coordination leads to high efficiency. You are Xiao Jiang's people, and I'm worried you might get hurt. Please sit down for a while."

"Okay...okay." Tian Xi nodded with a slight pursing of her lips.

Let's chat for a bit.

She would secretly smile when she heard Huang Lei praising Jiang Yang.

A sense of pride.

She felt Huang Lei's concern for her, and understood that Huang Lei's attitude towards her was based on Jiang Yang's concern.

They also realized just how capable Jiang Yang was on set.

A simple audition.

One suggestion was to clear the area.

Director Wang Jun, producer Xu Xiaoou, and art director Huang Lei, who is also a well-known actor, all helped out.

Tian Xi sat for a while, but didn't stay still. She got up and went to the door to observe how the film crew cleared the set.

It was discovered that the director had divided the production crew into three groups.

Group A is responsible for moving large furniture items such as sofas.

Group B is responsible for dismantling the wall decorations and lighting fixtures.

Group C cleaned the floor and put away the carpets and electrical wires.

The three groups acted simultaneously.

Obstacles such as coffee tables and dining tables can be quickly transported using metal-wheeled trolleys.

The TV cabinet and bookcase were moved as a whole to the hallway.

Quickly tear off the picture frames and posters from the wall.

Finally, spray water on the ground to prevent dust.

Liu Haochun lay on his side in the audition hall, listening to the noisy sounds from next door.

The sounds of screws being tightened, floor scraping, and Blu-Tack peeling off posters...

She closed her eyes.

Awaken your true self by following the methods taught by Jiang Yang.

As the memories deepened.

The chaotic sounds from the audition hall next door gradually faded and subsided.

Images flashed through my mind.

I remember my pink ballet flats from junior high school. The satin toes of the shoes were worn raw by the wooden floor, just like my disheveled state that I couldn't hide no matter how hard I tried.

After being criticized by the teacher in front of everyone that day, I squatted in the locker room and scratched at the glue on the soles of my shoes with my fingernails until my fingertips turned red.

When he got home, his father glanced at it and said:
"Your shoes are worn out from all the jumping, which shows you have no talent at all."

Once, I participated in a children's dance competition in the city and happily returned home with a second-prize certificate.

The father stuffed the certificate into the drawer in front of him and said:
"It's not like we're number one, what's there to brag about?"

Liu Haochun hunched his shoulders inward, leaning against the wall as if he wanted to shrink into it.

At my junior high school graduation ceremony, I stood in the center as the lead dancer.

I knew Dad would come.

She rehearsed again and again, hoping her father would see her performance.

There were no mistakes in the performance that day.

During the curtain call, I caught a glimpse of my father in the audience, looking down at his phone.

After the show, my father frowned and said:
"So what if you're the lead dancer? You're still useless if you fail your academic subjects."

Liu Haochun's neck was tilted back against the wall, as if an invisible hand was choking him.

Bit your lower lip.

I tried not to cry.

Knowing that they would receive a signal from Jiang Yang soon and would have to continue performing.

Since leaving home to study at the Affiliated High School of Beijing Dance Academy, I've had less and less contact with my father.

I gradually came to realize that not every father praises his daughter.

Try to understand that your father is just that kind of person.

They have high expectations of themselves.

They don't easily offer praise.

but.

Every time I go home for holidays or Chinese New Year, I still feel sad when I hear my father praising other people's children.

Dance shoes, certificates, scores.

Psychological violence is gradually becoming a tangible pain.

Every attempt to gain her father's approval only deepened the wound.

"Ring ring ring, ring ring ring ring ring..."

A clear bell rang out, echoing.

This instantly brought Liu Haochun's thoughts back to reality.

Jiang Yang had previously reminded himself that if he heard this kind of phone ringing, he should push open the door and enter the audition hall.

I didn't tell myself how to perform next.

Just be yourself.

Liu Haochun opened his eyes, ending his recollection, and accepted reality.

A long, trembling exhale.

Then replace sobbing with inhaling deeply.

It can soothe your mood in seconds.

Get up.

Open the door to the side bedroom.

A dim light greeted us.

Looking up, Liu Haochun was somewhat taken aback, and his hand holding the door froze.

The sofa that should have been in sight is gone.

The picture frames on the wall and the cabinet next to the sofa have also disappeared.

The furniture is gone.

All the windows were covered by blackout curtains. The only light source came from a projector lamp on the ceiling, illuminating a telephone booth in the center of the living room.

The frame is made of lightweight aluminum alloy square tubing, making it easy to move and disassemble.

The base consists of a wooden board and casters.

Easy to move.

The wheels are locked.

Sandbags were placed inside to prevent the actors from tipping over when they pushed the door open.

The phone inside has a hidden Blue Family module; it looks like an old-fashioned handset phone, but it's actually a walkie-talkie.

It features a directional microphone at the top. This facilitates sound pickup, avoids ambient noise, and ensures clear delivery of lines.

The ringing came from inside the phone booth.

Although they had met before, Jiang Yang changed the living room set when he was acting with Tian Xiwei.

I noticed that the set for my performance had changed, and I still felt a little out of place.

It's like suddenly entering a place beyond reality.

"Ring ring ring, ring ring ring ring ring..."

The ringing continued.

Liu Haochun stepped toward the phone booth, landing heel first, then his entire foot on the ground, gradually getting used to it.

Arrived at the phone booth.

He picked up the receiver, held it to his ear, and heard a familiar voice: "Haochun."

It's Jiangyang's timbre.

But the tone of voice is very similar to my father's.

His voice is slightly nasal, a little deep, and slightly hoarse. When he calls his own name, he always likes to add an "ah" sound at the end.

I understand Jiang Yang's intention.

Because they cannot appear on camera, cannot make eye contact with themselves, and need to stay in one place.

Therefore, Jiang Yang arranged this way of acting with himself.

In the phone booth, she talks to Jiang Yang, who is playing the role of her father.

"Dad," Liu Haochun called out.

"How are things in Beiping?"

"pretty good."

"Do you get along well with your classmates at school?" Jiang Yang asked.

"pretty good."

How is your teacher to you?

"pretty good."

"Do you like the school food?"

"pretty good."

Repeating it four times is good; gradually increase the speaking speed and decrease the volume.

A habitual answer that masks one's true feelings.

Liu Haochun lowered his eyes: "It's fine, everything is fine."

Done.

A self-deprecating smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Actually, not everything is good.

I've had conflicts with classmates, and I've been wronged by teachers.

She just knew that her father could ask, but she couldn't tell him.

Once it's spoken out, the outcome will only be worse.

Liu Haochun's fingers unconsciously coiled around the telephone cord.

The embodiment of anxiety.

His shoulders were hunched.

A habit formed when I was scolded as a child.

When I was a child, I thought my father was a hero. But I don't know when it started, my father stopped being my support. When I encountered difficulties, he would stand on the opposite side and berate me for deserving it.

Just like the conversation I have when I receive a phone call from my dad at school.

Chatted for a while.

Jiang Yang said, "I'm a bit busy here. Is there anything you want to tell me? If not, I'll hang up now."

Hearing that his father was about to hang up, Liu Haochun suddenly held his breath.

Liu Haochun subconsciously wanted to say the word "no".

Because the way Jiang Yang talked to me was so much like my real-life father.

The words were left unsaid.

Suddenly, he remembered what Jiang Yang had told him earlier.

Stop suppressing your emotions.

You need to express your true self from the bottom of your heart.

Suddenly, she understood why Jiang Yang had asked her several times before whether she was willing to trust him.

Jiang Yang is helping himself.

All I could do was entrust my trust to Jiang Yang.

Then he took a deep breath and trembled.

Physiological struggle before deciding to break the habit
"Dad, I have something to tell you."

"Oh, what is it?"

Suddenly, a scene flashed through Liu Haochun's mind: five years ago, when he was in junior high school, the time his teacher called his parents in. "Back in junior high, there was something that I find hard to let go of... that thing..."

That’s what I said.

Liu Haochun's voice suddenly choked up.

Strangely enough, even though five years have passed, when we talked about it again, my breathing became disordered: "That incident hurt me a lot."

"Because of me?"

"Yes."

(End of this chapter)