Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

Yu Zheng emerged from behind the monitor, feeling agitated.

The scene we just filmed was a romantic scene between the male and female leads.

We needed Li Yitong to say "I love you" to the male actor, and we had to do many takes.

The time wasted is all money.

Upon reaching the rest area, he said to Li Yitong, who had followed him, "Yitong, how many times have I told you? Lines aren't just something you recite; they need to be delivered with emotion. If you just say 'I love you' in a stiff, emotionless way, the audience won't feel it!"

It's clear that Yu Zheng is angry.

The rest area was completely silent.

The photographer adjusted the camera on his shoulder.

The sound engineer pulled the directional microphone back in.

She looked down at the tips of her embroidered shoes: "I'm sorry, I'll try again."

They didn't let Li Yitong try again.

Because the status wasn't found, no matter how many times I tried, it didn't work.

Yu Zheng asked the script supervisor to bring the script, and opened it:

"I chose you to play Qingcheng because the role required a contradiction between purity and allure. During your audition, when you said 'I hate you,' your eyes were full of love. But now, when you say 'I love you,' there's nothing in your eyes..."

That’s what I said.

Yu Zheng's phone rang. He took it out and saw that it was He Shengming calling.

His tense expression relaxed into a smile.

Li Yitong glanced at Yu Zheng's phone and saw that He Shengming's call background picture had been set by Yu Zheng to a photo of the two of them holding hands and interlocking their fingers when they were young.

"Forget it, there's no point in saying so much. Yitong, you should rest before continuing."

Yu Zheng gave Li Yitong a perfunctory reply, then answered the phone, walked outside, and grinned, "Oh, Teacher He, it's been so long since I've received a call from you. When can we get together?"

After Yu Zheng left.

Li Yitong practices saying "I love you" in front of the mirror.

Her face was painted with half-demon special effects makeup.

His eyes were covered in scales, and the ends of his hair were stained with artificial blood.

Still not in the zone.

She was reciting lines, reading a text, and giving a recitation, but she didn't resemble the female lead in the drama at all.

I've read the script many times.

In the scene being filmed, the female lead, Qingcheng, sees herself in the mirror and suddenly notices demonic markings appearing at the corners of her eyes. Fear, shame, love, and longing should all arise simultaneously.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't act it out.

Just as Yu Zheng said, there was no light in his eyes.

I take out my phone and scroll through my WeChat Moments.

I saw a post on my WeChat Moments from my former teacher at the Beijing Dance Academy.

Click to view the accompanying image.

It's a screenshot from the live stream of the press conference for the launch of "Fighter of the Destiny," showing Jiang Yang singing on stage, surrounded by fans holding up light sticks of Lu Han.

"Did Lu Han have plastic surgery? He's gotten taller and his appearance has changed."

After taking a closer look at the caption of this WeChat Moments post, I understood what was going on.

The text reads: "[The third round of auditions for the Beijing Dance Academy has concluded. As an examiner, I saw many outstanding candidates this year. Two stood out in my mind: a girl named Hao Chun and Jiang Yang. I was surprised to learn that he is also knowledgeable in music and has excellent songwriting abilities. His performance in 'A Little Reunion' was brilliant; he is a promising young talent.]"
This teacher rarely praises people.

Has another genius emerged from my alma mater, the Beijing Dance Academy?

I've heard people in the group discussing this before: Lu Han is releasing a new song today and will sing it at the press conference for the start of filming of "Fighter of the Destiny".

Click to start the live stream.

At first, I just thought the melody was nice.

I graduated from a dance school, but I haven't had any formal training in performance or music. I just thought the melody was nice.

Listen, listen.

When I heard the line, "You can be yourself or just 'you,' someone will love you wholeheartedly," I was captivated. "How many ignorant sins, though past, are never truly forgotten."

"Never forget the past, for it is like smoke in the wind."

I remember when I was ten years old, at my aunt's suggestion, I embarked on the path of learning dance in order to improve my temperament.

I initially studied in amateur classes, but perhaps because I was naturally suited to dancing, my teacher suggested that I apply to a professional school.

After studying dance for a year, I was admitted to Shenzhen Zhen Art School during middle school.

Back then, I was arrogant and thought I had more talent in dance than my peers, and that I would definitely be able to make a good living through dance in the future.

That was also my first time studying in another city.

Eight students from other places lived in one dormitory.

As we age, our bones gradually harden, making stretching more painful and demanding.

Once, when everyone made a mistake, the teacher punished them by making them do the splits, with their legs placed higher than usual and their heads touching their buttocks when bending backward. The pain made all the girls cry.

I kept smiling.

I silently swallowed all my homesickness and feelings of grievance.

Back then, my eyes shone with light.

During a high-intensity practice session before the entrance exam for the Beijing Dance Academy, she fell from the air during a somersault, resulting in cracks in her toes and waist bones.

The doctor said that if I continue dancing, I might become paralyzed.

To prepare for the exam and to pursue her dance dream, she still insists on exercising for more than ten hours every day.

When I got home that evening, my parents took hot towels and ointment and lovingly massaged me.

The lingering effects of that incident haven't healed to this day; I still have a persistent back injury and habitually twist my ankle.

It wasn't until I got into the Beijing Dance Academy that I realized what it means to be outmatched and have a higher level of understanding.

Back home, I was a genius; at the Beijing Dance Academy, I became mediocre.

After graduation, I wanted to open a teahouse that combined dance with my studies, and I had even chosen a location.

By chance, I helped a friend from the film academy shoot a short film that lasted a few minutes. It was then that I suddenly had a breakthrough in acting, and I resolutely gave up my teahouse project and plunged into the entertainment industry.

I was invited twice by scouts from South Korea's SM Entertainment, but I didn't want to go and declined.

I still remember that summer six years ago in Hangzhou, when I was filming a promotional video by West Lake, wearing 10-centimeter high heels.

The director complained that his face was too round and made him dance in circles under the scorching sun, even though he had only eaten half an ice cream that day.

What followed were several years spent as an extra on film sets.

Having studied dance, I have no background or connections.

A flexible waist makes somersaults easy, but in a film crew, a dance certificate is useless. There are supporting roles among supporting roles, and even a chance to appear on screen has to be fought for.

During the most difficult time, in order to save on rent, I shared a 14-square-meter shared apartment with five other girls.

The toilet door wouldn't close, and the girl next door was crying in the middle of the night. All I could do was put in my earplugs, turn over, and continue memorizing my lines.

During that dark period, I fell in love with night running. I would run until dawn, my face covered in sweat and dust, looking disheveled. But as I ran, I felt that there was still hope for me.

A dance certificate is just a piece of paper on a film set, just like a dream is just empty talk in the face of rent.

Li Yitong put on her headphones and turned up the volume.

With each line of lyrics sung by Jiang Yang, a deep drumbeat would resound.

"To be born a human being is no crime."

Boom!
You don't need to apologize.

Boom!
"If the noise doesn't stop."

Boom!
"Let me keep you company in peace."

Then came the sudden burst of music in the chorus: "Which rose has no thorns..."

The drumbeats quickened.

dong dong dong...

He raised his hand to his chest and realized it wasn't the sound of drums, but his own heartbeat. (End of Chapter)