Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

She looked at herself in the makeup mirror.

His face was covered in demonic markings, his hair was stained with blood, and his eyes, which used to shine brightly in the training room, were now dull and lifeless.

Suddenly realized something.

"I've always been waiting for someone to say, 'You're good enough.'"

They wait for the director's approval, for the audience's approval, for a role to prove themselves, but forget to ask themselves if it hurts.

My fingers gently stroked my waist.

There is an old scar from dancing there, which aches faintly on rainy days.

Jiang Yang's voice came through the earphones again: "You can be yourself or just 'you,' someone will love you wholeheartedly."

Li Yitong smiled with tears in her eyes.

I always think about becoming a better version of myself, but I never think about whether I am already good enough as I am now.

Suddenly, I remembered that in the first few years after I embarked on my dance career, I went back to my hometown of Jinan during a holiday from Shenzhen Art School. When I got home, I saw my mother looking through old photos of me learning dance. As she looked at them, she fell silent.

As the mother rummaged through the pages, tears streaming down her face, she suddenly asked herself, "Xuexue, can you please stop learning dance?"

Looking back now, I understand how my mother felt at the time.

I feel uneasy about being alone in another city. It's nearly 2,000 kilometers from Shenzhen to Jinan, and I can only go home during winter and summer vacations.

That day, my mother had a long and earnest talk with me, and in the end, we argued and I said to her, "I will never give up."

She even said something hurtful to her mother: "I'm never coming to this house again!"

Mom said, "Fine! Then you must never come back to this house in your entire life!"

Then, carrying the rebellious spirit of her childhood, she went to the train station, where her father saw her off onto the train.

Just as the train started moving, my phone rang. It was my dad calling, but when I answered, I heard my mom's voice.

I then realized that my mother had arrived at the train station.

But the train had already started moving.

It was 2002. Accompanying passengers were also allowed to enter the station. When I turned around and looked out the window, I saw my mother running along the train tracks, wearing a pair of pajamas from home. She was running and crying, holding my father's phone and talking to me.

I can't remember much of what was said now.

Because it was all sobbing.

I only remember a few lines that left a deep impression: "I'm sorry, Xuexue... Mommy is sorry... Mommy shouldn't have said such harsh words to you... Xuexue..."

My mother's tears were like a river flowing backwards, washing me, now grown up, back to my childhood.

The harsh words spoken in youthful spite become thorns that pierce oneself as an adult.

I was twelve years old then, holding the phone, running towards the back of the train, my voice trembling with tears as I spoke: "Mom, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have treated you like that..."

I feel guilty towards my mother.

There are also concerns.

Because it was very dangerous, there was a train track, but luckily Mom caught Dad just before she was about to fall.

Recalling the scene, the mother in her pajamas chased after the train, outrunning all the elaborately dressed superheroes.

At that time, I only had one thought in my mind: I wanted to go home, I didn't want to go to Shenzhen anymore, and I didn't want to learn dance anymore.

But the train had already started moving and couldn't stop.

Just like my own life.

After finishing his phone call, Yu Zheng pushed open the door and came in, tapping his palm with the script roll: "Yi Tong, how's the emotional build-up going?"

Li Yitong got up and chatted with Yu Zheng for a few minutes.

Finally, I turned my head to look at myself in the mirror.

I saw myself on the day I graduated from the Beijing Dance Academy. Sunlight streamed through the glass window of the practice room as I completed my final whip turn in front of the mirror. How simple happiness was back then.

On the day before the entrance exam for the Beijing Dance Academy, the doctor warned that continuing to dance might lead to paralysis. She bit a towel and continued to stretch her legs, fearing that she would be eliminated.

The back injury reminds me that I once bent my back for my dreams.

Now, looking at herself in the mirror with the demon tattoo on her face, Li Yitong is afraid of being rejected again. She remembers her parents massaging her back late at night, her mother saying, "Daughter, if it hurts, come home," to which she shook her head and said, "I can manage."

Now I suddenly understand that stubborn love never needs anyone else's approval.

I remember running until dawn, sweat mixed with tears, thinking, "I'll give it my all one more time, what if I can do it?"
At this moment, Li Yitong looked at her half-demon makeup in the mirror, longing to find the Li Yitong who dared to tell her that she was worthy.

She walked towards the mirror.

The first few steps were stiff, but the steps gradually became lighter.

The stranger in the mirror is actually the person I most wanted to be when I was young.

She touched the spot on her injured back with her fingers, took a deep breath, which turned into a long, trembling exhale, and said softly, "I love you."

That is to say, to give a hearing.

It's also a message to the rebellious, stubborn, and unwilling-to-give-up self reflected in the mirror.

"I love you."

Hear the words.

Yu Zheng was slightly taken aback.

That's the feeling—fear, shame, love, longing. It's all the emotions Qingcheng experiences when she discovers she's a half-demon and faces her lover in the script.

"Yitong, hold onto this feeling, let's start filming now! Let's get started!"

The makeup artist quickly touched up Li Yitong's makeup.

They went to the palace to film a scene.

A few minutes later, Yu Zheng, sitting in front of the monitor, shouted, "Okay, cut! Yi Tong, that's a wrap! This clip has to be kept!"

He took out his phone and called He Shengming: "Teacher He, I just got a call from you, and all my actresses' acting skills have improved dramatically. So, we should keep in touch..."

Return to the lounge.

Li Yitong opened Jiang Yang's Weibo and wrote a comment on the latest post using her alternate account:
[Thank you for letting me hear this song. Ten years ago, that little girl who cried while practicing her legs in the dance studio but dared not stop, has finally dared to say 'I love you' to herself in the mirror today.]
Before discovering Jiang Yang, he had composed a song.

It is the stars and the sea.

I listened to it once and was stunned for a long time.

Suddenly, a thought popped into my head: could I buy Jiang Yang's songs?
This song was written, composed, and arranged by Jiang Yang, and is sung by Lu Han and Jiang Yang. It is also Lu Han's new song.

Lu Han must have secretly spent money to buy the copyright to Jiang Yang's song.

Can I do it myself?

The thought had barely crossed my mind before it faded away.

Jiang Yang's songs must be very expensive; I'm nowhere near as rich as Lu Han.

Why not give it a try? What if I can actually afford it?

While Jiang Yang is still a new singer and not yet very popular.

Let's find out first.

I didn't send Jiang Yang a private message because I could imagine that Jiang Yang's Weibo private message page must be bombarded by Lu Han's fans.

They found an artist named Yang Chaoyue who had signed with Jiangyang Company.

Send a private message to Yang Chaoyue: ["Chaoyue, hello, I'm Li Yitong, an actress, currently filming 'Demon Girl' in Hengdian."]
Yang Chaoyue replied: ["Hello."]
It was followed by a handshake emoji.

Li Yitong sent a message: ["I would like to ask how much it costs to buy a song composed by Jiang Yang?"]
Yang Chaoyue replied: [“One billion.”]
PS:

Thank you to Tu for the 19 monthly votes.

Thank you to the 17 monthly votes from the expert!

Meng Ziyi: "Thanks to Teacher Mao's dog for feeding me a razor blade... We always think that we will be treated kindly if we change the stage, but we forget that the keyboard has no boundaries."

Liu Haochun: Thank you Xiaolu Paihuai for giving me a talisman... I always live a life I don't even recognize because of other people's comments.

Bai Lu: "Thank you, Jinmailang, for feeding me a little chicken leg... If you run slowly, all you hear are idle gossips; if you run fast, all you hear is the sound of the wind."

Taibai knelt in gratitude. (End of Chapter)