Rebirth 02, the Celestial Being Told Me to Stop Pretending

The next morning, Lu Chen took Zhao Bo out.

Lu Chen turned up his shirt collar and walked forward, his neck hunched. Zhao Bo followed behind, half a steamed bun dangling from his mouth, and asked indistinctly, "How exactly do you know this person?"

"I don't know him."

Zhao Bo paused in his chewing of the steamed bun: "You don't know them, so why are you going to find them?"

Lu Chen said, "But it's enough that I know him."

Zhao Bo didn't ask any more questions.

The two stopped at the Faculty Building. Lu Chen didn't go directly to Zhang Songwen, but went to the department office first.

"Teacher, is Mr. Zhang Songwen here?"

The administrative staff in the office looked up and adjusted their glasses: "You're looking for Teacher Zhang? He doesn't have any classes today; he should be helping out in the rehearsal hall."

"help?"

"He's the stage manager for the advanced training class's final performance, in the rehearsal hall on the left side of the entrance on the first floor," the administrative teacher said, then added, "If you want to take a class with him, he's there on Tuesday and Thursday mornings."

Lu Chen thanked him and led Zhao Bo towards the rehearsal hall. As soon as they opened the door, they could hear people reciting lines inside.

The lights were dim, and several rows of folding chairs were placed in the corner. In the open space in the middle, a dozen or so students were rehearsing a scene.

Lu Chen glanced around and immediately spotted Zhang Songwen.

He sat in a folding chair, a worn notebook on his lap, a pencil in his hand, writing something down.

He was under thirty, wearing a faded dark blue sweater with an even older plaid shirt peeking out from under the collar. His hair was cut very short, and his face was expressionless.

On stage, a girl was performing a monologue, but her emotions weren't quite there, and she kept stumbling over her words. A boy next to her was trying to act alongside her, but his rhythm was off, and the two of them were getting increasingly tense.

Zhang Songwen put down his pencil, stood up, and walked onto the stage.

Instead of directly pointing out what was wrong, he said, "Say that line again."

The girl repeated it.

"What are you trying to say with that?"

"I...I want to express anger."

"That's not right." Zhang Songwen's tone was calm and unhurried.

"You're saying I want you to see that I'm angry. These are two different things. Anger comes from within, but right now you're only showing the surface."

The girl was stunned for a moment.

"Let's do it again. This time, don't think about acting angry. Just think about why he treated me like this."

The girl took a deep breath and did it again.

This time it's different.

Her voice didn't rise intentionally; it changed from "I'm performing" to "I'm really angry."

"Yes, that's it."

Zhang Songwen nodded, sat back down in the folding chair, and continued taking notes.

Looking at this scene, Lu Chen thought to himself: This is it.

In his past life, he was a producer and had worked with no fewer than a hundred actors and acting coaches, but there were very few people who could explain acting so clearly and simply.

Zhang Songwen isn't teaching techniques; he's helping actors find themselves.

This skill cannot be taught; it can only be acquired through talent and experience.

During a break in rehearsal, Lu Chen walked over.

"Teacher Zhang."

Zhang Songwen looked up at him, his eyes calm.

"Who are you?"

"Lu Chen from the Directing Department."

Zhang Songwen thought for a moment: "The one where we shoot short films?"

"right."

"I watched your film," Zhang Songwen said. "The pacing was good, but the acting was too stiff."

Zhao Bo almost burst out laughing in the back. Lu Chen's short film had been praised countless times, and this was the first time someone had come up and said that his acting was too stiff.

Lu Chen wasn't angry; instead, he smiled and said, "That's why I came to find you."

Zhang Songwen glanced at him but didn't reply.

"Teacher Zhang, may I speak to you in private?"

The two walked to the corridor outside the rehearsal hall.

The corridor was narrow, with posters of past students' performances on the walls, and the lighting was yellowish.

Lu Chen cut to the chase: "Teacher Zhang, I want to make a movie and I need someone to help me train the actors. I'd like to ask you for help."

Zhang Songwen was silent for a few seconds, then slowly said, "You're a sophomore in college, and you want to make a movie?"

"right."

"Where's the money?"

It's currently being sold.

"Where's the team?"

It's currently being assembled.

Zhang Songwen looked at him and gave him a proper smile: "You have nothing, yet you come to me?"

"Because you lack nothing of what I have," Lu Chen said.

"What you lack is not talent, but opportunity."

Zhang Songwen remained silent.

Lu Chen continued, "I've seen the video of you winning the first prize for best performance at the National College Student Drama Festival."

"In 'Farewell My Concubine,' you played Cheng Dieyi. In that scene where I was originally a man, your eyes conveyed three layers seamlessly: from avoidance to confrontation to collapse."

Zhang Songwen's expression finally changed slightly.

"But what are you doing now?" Lu Chen's voice was clear.

"Script supervisor, coordinator, I do script supervision for the advanced training class. I've been teaching acting for three years, and I can't even support myself."

The corridor was quiet for a few seconds.

Zhang Songwen leaned against the wall, looking down at the ground. The light cast a long shadow on the yellowed posters.

"What exactly do you want to film?" he asked.

"A low-budget comedy. Dark humor, multi-narrative structure, about a group of people getting into all sorts of trouble because of a stone," Lu Chen said. "The budget is kept under three million, but the return on investment may exceed expectations."

Zhang Songwen looked up. "Where do you get your confidence?"

Of course, it's because I saw it with my own eyes in my past life: less than 300 in production costs, 2300 million in box office revenue, a return of nearly ten times. But I can't just tell him that directly.

They had to find another excuse.

"Because this type of film doesn't currently exist on the market. It's not that audiences don't need it, it's that nobody dares to be the first."

Zhang Songwen nodded.

He didn't ask how you knew, nor did he question why a sophomore could have such an idea; he was simply seriously considering the possibility of this.

"What are you giving me?" Zhang Songwen asked.

Five percent of the box office revenue.

"No payment?"

"no."

Zhang Songwen fell silent again.

A 5% share of box office revenue means that if the film makes money, everyone benefits; if the film loses money, it's zero.

He now works as a script supervisor and can earn a couple hundred yuan a day.

Lu Chen did not urge him.

"That film you mentioned," Zhang Songwen finally spoke, "have you written the script?"

"An outline has been written, but the details are still being refined."

"show me."

"I'll give it to you tomorrow."

Zhang Songwen nodded, then did something that surprised Lu Chen. He took out ten yuan from his pocket and handed it to Lu Chen.

"Go to the cafeteria and buy two boxed lunches; I haven't had lunch yet."

Lu Chen stared at the ten yuan note for a moment, then took it and smiled.

"Ms. Zhang, are you interviewing me?"

"I'm inviting you to dinner."

Zhang Songwen said, "You invited me to join, and I'll treat you to a boxed lunch. We're even."

Lu Chen went to the cafeteria and bought two boxed lunches and two bottles of mineral water, which cost a total of fourteen yuan, with him paying four yuan out of pocket.

The two sat on the steps outside the rehearsal hall eating their boxed lunches.

The wind was already cool at the end of October. Zhang Songwen pulled his sweater collar up and ate slowly, chewing each bite carefully.

"My mother passed away when I was thirteen," Zhang Songwen suddenly said.

"Late-stage cancer; from diagnosis to death, less than three months."

Lu Chen did not respond.

"Later, I did many jobs: printing factory, beverage sales, air conditioner installation, hotel waiter, restaurant manager, tour guide."

Zhang Songwen poked at the rice with his chopsticks. "He's the best tour guide I've ever been in. He's won the Guangdong Provincial Best Tour Guide award."

"and then?"

"Then I got into the Beijing Film Academy at the age of 24," Zhang Songwen said.

"Others enter university at eighteen, but I didn't arrive until I was twenty-four. I was six years later than others, but I lived six more lives than them."

He looked up at Lu Chen: "Do you know what these past six years have given me?"

"experience."

"Yes." Zhang Songwen nodded.

Lu Chen looked at him and thought: This person is just like me, so poor that all he has left is talent and integrity.

"Teacher Zhang," Lu Chen put down his chopsticks, "I can't guarantee this film will be a success. But I can guarantee that if you work with me, you won't have to be a script supervisor anymore."

Zhang Songwen looked at him for a few seconds, then smiled.

"Show me the script. We'll talk after you've read it."

"OK."

After finishing his boxed lunch, Zhang Songwen stood up, dusted off his pants, and prepared to return to the rehearsal hall.

"By the way," he glanced back at Lu Chen, "the acting in your short film was indeed stiff, but it wasn't the actors' fault, it was your directing's fault. You wanted them to act well too much, and ended up killing them off."

Lu Chen was stunned for a moment.

"Next time we're filming, don't tell them how to act, tell them what to think," Zhang Songwen said before pushing open the door to the rehearsal hall.

Lu Chen stood in the corridor, looking at the closed door, and silently memorized the sentence.

On the way back to the dorm, Zhao Bo finally couldn't hold back any longer: "Brother Lu, do you really think this guy is reliable?"

"Reliable."

How did you know?

"Because he watched my short film, and like you, he didn't praise me; his first comment was that my acting was too stiff," Lu Chen said.

"Everyone is praising me, but he told the truth. That kind of person is either a fool or really smart."

"So which type is he?"

"The kind that really understands."

Back in his dorm, Lu Chen sat at his desk and pulled out the outline of "Diamond" from his notebook.

Zhang Songwen's words echoed in his mind: Don't tell them how to act, tell them what to think.

This statement is more useful than any performance textbook.

He picked up a pen and wrote a line in his notebook: Zhang Songwen, acting director plus four-eyed.

Then he wrote another line: Ning Hao, assistant director.

The puzzle pieces are emerging one by one. Now, he needs to find Ning Hao.

He wants to work with Ning Hao to improve the script.

Lu Chen pulled out the information he had written down in his notebook: Ning Hao, a student in the photography department of Beijing Film Academy, won the Best Director Award at the Beiping University Student Film Festival last year with his student film, and is currently shooting an MTV.

He picked up his phone and found Yang Lin's number.

"Professor Yang, I'd like to ask if you have Ning Hao's contact information in the Photography Department?"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone: "Ning Hao? What do you want with him?"

I want to talk to him.

"Let me ask for you."

"Thank you, Teacher Yang."

After hanging up the phone, Lu Chen leaned back in his chair.

Wang Yan borrowed a computer to surf the internet, while Zhao Bo read a book on the upper bunk. Everything seemed the same as usual.

But Lu Chen knew that some things had changed.

Today he took the first step.