The Fleeting Years of Chinese Entertainment

Having made up his mind, Lin Mo ignored Zhu Yawen's objections and boarded the bus home the next day.

On the way back, Lin Mo even prepared two packs of good cigarettes for the old man, hoping that he would go easy on him when he beat him up.

Just before entering the room, Lin Mo drank another bag of liquor to bolster his courage. Then, burping from the alcohol, he barged into the old man's bedroom with a tragic air of a hero going off to his death!

"You're back?" Lin's father put down the newspaper he was holding and looked up at his eldest son when he heard the noise.

"Ah... I'm back, Dad. Where did Mom go?"

Lin Mo cautiously observed his father's expression, trying to gauge his mood.

"She's not coming back for National Day this year. She said there's some kind of event at school. What's wrong? Are you hungry?"

Lin's father got up to prepare to cook for Lin Mo, but as he passed by Lin Mo, he smelled a fragrant aroma of alcohol.

"Have you been drinking?"

Mr. Lin frowned, but then he remembered that his son was eighteen and an adult, so he decided not to say anything more.

"I...I drank a little, but not much. Dad, don't go cook yet, I'm not hungry. And...I have something I want to tell you."

Lin Mo grabbed his father's arm and casually took out a cigarette he had prepared in advance from his pocket and put it in his father's hand.

Lin's father stroked the cigarette in his hand, and a playful expression began to appear on his face.

"You're quite generous, aren't you? Are you short on cash?"

Lin Mo remained silent and pulled his father back to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Um... Dad! I'm a little short on money. You know, I'm studying acting, right? Lately, I've seen a lot of my classmates get cast in movies or TV shows, so... I'm thinking of trying my hand at acting too, what do you think?"

Looking at his eldest son's ingratiating expression, Lin's father began to ponder.

He had learned a bit about this circle, after all, his own son was going to enter it! As a father, it wouldn't be right for him not to know about it.

So, given my child's current situation, if he wants to act, unless he's unexpectedly chosen by a director, he can only play minor roles. If he wants to play a leading role, he definitely can't do it without spending money.

"So... you're planning to spend some money to grease the wheels? How much do you need?"

Lin's father didn't object much to Lin Mo asking for money. He thought that since his child had embarked on this path, it was always good to "practice" it beforehand. After all, it was just a role, how much money could it cost?

So… under the calm gaze of Lin's father, Lin Mo slowly extended two fingers.

"You mean... two thousand or twenty thousand?"

"Neither."

"How much is that? It can't be two hundred! Can you really buy a character for that cheap?"

Seeing his son's embarrassed look, Mr. Lin's heart began to pound with anxiety.

"It's two million... Hey... Dad! Don't pull your belt!"

As soon as the word "ten thousand" was uttered, Lin's father immediately reached for his waist. Seeing this, Lin Mo naturally turned and ran.

"You little brat! Stop right there... Two million? You don't even have two hundred dollars!" Lin's father shouted as he chased after him.

Lin Mo struggled as he ran, pleading, "Dad, please believe me this once! This time I'm not just spending money to act; I'm investing in the production team. It's going to make money."

"Make money my ass! You spendthrift! Do you even know how much two million is? You actually dare to ask for that? Just wait until I skim two million off your head!"

……

At noon, Lin Mo covered the "whip marks" on his arm and looked at his father with a wronged expression as he ate heartily, while he was even deprived of his right to sit at the table.

After Lin's father finished eating and drinking, Lin Mo thought he could finally sit down to eat, but his father put down his chopsticks and came over, patted Lin Mo's head, and remained silent for a long time.

As Lin—Quail—Mo felt the slap on his head and prepared to face his father's wrath again, his father suddenly pulled a bank card out of his pocket and placed it in his hand.

"Xiao Mo, you've grown up so much..."

Mr. Lin paused for a moment, then said, "Remember to spend money wisely."

Looking at his father's somewhat hunched back, Lin Mo felt a mix of emotions.

Father's love is like a mountain, tall and profound!

Lin Mo stayed at home for one night, and the next day he took his bank card and prepared to go to school.

"Dad, don't worry! This time, your son will definitely not let you down."

Lin's father did not answer, but silently watched the bus carrying Lin Mo drive away before reluctantly walking back.

Upon returning to school, Lin Mo worked tirelessly day and night to finish the script, and immediately went to the door of his directing professor's office.

To be honest, Lin Mo was feeling very anxious and uncertain about whether he could succeed this time.

However, remembering Zhu Yawen's wise saying that one should become famous as early as possible, Lin Mo gritted his teeth and knocked on the office door.

"Enter!"

"Hello, professors. My name is Lin Mo, and I just got into the Performance Department of Taipei Film Academy this year."

As soon as Lin Mo entered the room, he bowed deeply to all the mentors present.

Regardless of whether it will ultimately succeed, we must at least make the right gesture.

"Hello, classmate, what brings you here?" A middle-aged man dressed in black casual clothes stood up and smiled at Lin Mo.

"I am Xie Xiaojing, a professor in the directing department. You can just call me Professor Xie."

Although they didn't know what Lin Mo, a student from the acting department, was doing in their directing department, as a school mentor, their attitude was naturally not bad.

"Hello, Professor Xie. I'm here today to ask for your help. I've written a script and want to invest in making it into a film, but I haven't studied directing, so... so I'd like to ask you professors to come out of retirement and help me, and also to rent some of the filming equipment from our school." Lin Mo bowed to Xie Xiaojing again.

Lin Mo was somewhat familiar with this director, who was from the same period as Zhang Yimou and Chen Kaige, so he began to relax a little.

"Oh? You, a performing arts student, have actually written a script? Can I take a look?"

"sure."

After Lin Mo presented the script to Xie Xiaojing with both hands, he stood quietly beside him like a well-behaved student, waiting for his mentor's "judgment".

A short while later, Xie Xiaojing, having roughly skimmed through Lin Mo's script, looked at Lin Mo with admiration.

"Xiaolin! Your script is good. Although the story structure is a bit simple, it is undoubtedly competent in creating the narrative atmosphere. It is a good script."

Hearing Xie Xiaojing's admiring tone, even the other mentors in the office looked up.