SAE CH6

“Jiang-ge, have this iced Americano first to line your stomach. Later, there will be a boiled egg and a small dish of nuts for you.” At 8:30 in the morning, Little Zhou had already knocked on the apartment door, prepared breakfast for Jiang Fanxing, and was ready to take him to class.

Jiang Fanxing looked at the iced Americano in front of him, his mouth twitching slightly.

Since he was no longer suffering the bitterness of interning at the law firm, he now had to suffer the bitterness of black coffee.

In life, one must always endure some form of bitterness.

When Jiang Fanxing arrived at the classroom under his assistant’s guidance, several people were already there waiting.

The person in charge of teaching them was a veteran actress who had never been particularly famous.

The general public probably couldn’t name her, but they had more or less seen her characters in various dramas.

Before coming, Little Zhou had already given him a detailed introduction to Teacher Wang’s background. She was considered a forgotten pearl in the acting world; she was extremely talented in performance and, more rarely, very good at teaching others. She was more meticulous than those famous acting coaches in the entertainment industry, and she even had a background in traditional opera.

It was just a pity that after her opera troupe disbanded, her income dried up. She later transitioned into acting but could only run around as an extra and take on minor roles. In truth, it’s even harder for middle-aged and elderly actors—especially female actors—to make a mark. Scripts suitable for middle-aged and elderly actors almost exclusively feature male roles. A large number of slightly older actresses simply cannot get any roles, let alone someone with Teacher Wang’s plain looks.

Shen Tianqing had occasionally visited his artists on set and discovered Teacher Wang’s excellent acting skills, immediately signing her on with a high salary. If there were good script roles suitable for her to shine in, Shen Tianqing would help push for her; if not, she would stay at the studio and help train the artists.

In Shen Tianqing’s words, the standard training from formal academies couldn’t teach much in just three short months. A talented individual like Teacher Wang, who came from an unconventional background, could better help artists find their “feel” for acting.

Teacher Wang hadn’t disappointed Shen Tianqing’s expectations. Her teaching level was remarkably high, often managing to take terrible acting skills and elevate them to a “barely usable” state.

This was already quite impressive.

However, there were many acting coaches in the industry who specifically made a living this way. Teacher Wang wasn’t young anymore, and her energy was limited, so she had never really heavily promoted herself.

The first time she laid eyes on Jiang Fanxing, Wang Xu knew why Shen Tianqing insisted on signing him even during these difficult times.

From an appearance standpoint, Jiang Fanxing had a very bright future.

He was good-looking, but not the kind of universally beloved, dazzlingly handsome guy. Instead, his brow and eyes were beautifully formed and looked quite classical. His face shape was also very smooth; he practically needed no micro-adjustments and only required appropriate makeup and subtle cosmetic dermatology to improve any minor flaws. This kind of appearance was suitable for both ancient and modern styling, meaning his range of roles would be broad. He wasn’t just an “atmospheric handsome guy.” Add to that the fact that his height wasn’t so extreme that finding a female co-star would be difficult, and he was quite a catch.

Those top-tier handsome guys and beautiful girls in the entertainment circle often got labeled as “Visual Overlords” (Yanba). Even if they deliberately dressed down, they couldn’t convincingly play ordinary people. Yet, countless good scripts in the industry often start from the perspective of an ordinary person, as that’s what gives the audience a sense of immersion. Jiang Fanxing’s type was excellent: with the right styling, he could look stunning, but he could also look clean-cut and ordinary. His plasticity was extremely strong.

For an artist, having strong plasticity is far more important than just being good-looking.

“Sit down,” Wang Xu gave Jiang Fanxing a faint greeting.

Jiang Fanxing glanced at the other three artists in the classroom, knowing that the four of them were the entirety of the studio’s talent pool.

“Actually, everyone naturally knows how to act. Just like when you were a kid and broke something at home; if you didn’t dare tell your parents, you would lie and pretend you didn’t break it,” Wang Xu smiled softly. “Even when watching TV as a kid, you’d drape a bedsheet over yourself and play the swordsman or princess from the drama. That’s because, as children, our sense of ‘self’ isn’t heavy, and we easily imitate others. Therefore, to learn acting well, the first step is to learn to hide ‘yourself’ and imitate someone else. The very beginning of acting is imitation—”

Teacher Wang was truly impressive.

Jiang Fanxing took notes diligently below. Back in university, he was one of those ruthless people who always sat in the first row during lectures.

After one class, Wang Xu called the four students up one by one to perform.

It didn’t matter if their performance was bad; the priority was to practice more and learn to act in front of people.

The first one, naturally, was the newcomer, Jiang Fanxing.

“You have very beautiful eyes,” Wang Xu praised without hesitation. Jiang Fanxing had an eye shape somewhere between phoenix eyes and apricot eyes. “This gives you recognizability. If your eyes can act, you can quickly break through the siege. But if your eyes lack emotion, you’ll immediately look dull and lifeless, becoming the poster child for bad acting.”

“You haven’t officially debuted yet. If you get labeled with ‘bad acting’ on your very first drama, who knows how many detours you’ll have to take in the future,” Wang Xu gave her routine advice. “Back then, Yi Zhu and Qin Shi’s talent for acting was actually quite good, which is why they managed to stand out—”

“I know that. If their acting hadn’t been decent, how could they have scammed Shen Tianqing so thoroughly? Even with the studio on the verge of collapsing, they wouldn’t have let me pick up the scraps,” Jiang Fanxing replied.

“Don’t say that in front of him,” Wang Xu coughed lightly. “How is your family background? Don’t misunderstand, it’s just that an actor generally needs enough life experience to perform better. Usually, children from exceptionally wealthy families, who have been pampered by everyone around them since childhood, find it harder to grasp the essence of acting.”

It’s like how a child who has grown up surrounded entirely by love finds it difficult to understand dark, jealous, or painful emotions. In acting terms, that’s equivalent to welding the window shut before even opening the door to acting.

“My family is considered well-off, I suppose. When I was young, I lived in an old-style residential building, and later we moved into a modern apartment building. My parents are both staff workers in a small county town, so I’ve seen a bit of everything,” Jiang Fanxing replied.

When he was little, his family had gone through a period of hardship. The main issue was that both his grandparents had fallen seriously ill when he was young, and back then, the medical insurance system wasn’t as comprehensive as it is now, so it easily dragged a family down.

“Hmm, try acting out something simple first.” Wang Xu thought for a moment, turned on the screen in the classroom, and randomly selected a clip of a domineering CEO for Jiang Fanxing to watch. “Let’s start with the simplest: the domineering CEO. These characters are far enough removed from the audience that you can rely solely on imagination, making them the easiest to play.”

Jiang Fanxing stared at the clip, his expression gradually stiffening.

We’re starting with something this cringy right off the bat?

He finally managed to get through the morning classes and took a short nap, only to prepare for the afternoon singing and dancing lessons.

Jiang Fanxing briefly greeted the other three artists in the studio, not rushing to build good relationships with them. After all, the studio’s resources were limited, and he was here to grab the lion’s share. As long as they didn’t openly oppose him in private, that was already pretty good. For now, treating them as regular colleagues was enough. Best not to make things awkward; the morning had been awkward enough.

His fat-loss lunch actually showed a bit of human rights—he finally saw some meat. Even though it was just chicken breast, at least there was protein.

Yet another day of starving.

Just sleep. Once I’m asleep, I won’t be hungry anymore.

Misfortunes never come singly. While taking his afternoon nap on the sofa next to the training room, Jiang Fanxing was awakened again by the thump-thump-thump of music.

Jiang Fanxing, currently in his irritable, carb-deprived phase, exploded instantly.

Do you have any public decency?! It’s nap time!!!

What does ‘nap time’ mean? Did you not learn this in elementary school?!

Jiang Fanxing angrily pushed open the door to the dance studio to see who the “King of Involuted Hard Work” inside was.

If he remembered correctly, it was the colleague whose stage name was Chen Kele, though his real name remained unknown.

Jiang Fanxing had done his homework. This Chen Kele actually had some skills. His original appearance when he debuted wasn’t outstanding, but his dance foundation was very solid, so he was entirely focused on becoming an idol. However, the domestic market offered very few stages suitable for idols. Shen Tianqing had finally managed to push him into a survival show, where he ended up being labeled “royal family” (a trainee with strong company backing) by outsiders and squeezed into the final debut spot by the skin of his teeth.

For idols originating from survival shows, forming the group is their peak; after that, it’s a constant downward slope.

What’s worse, in this group—whose name Jiang Fanxing couldn’t even remember despite his specific research—there was an absolute center named Qiu Songsheng, who debuted with an insurmountable lead. Not only was he excellent at singing and dancing, but his looks were also leagues above the rest. One person’s traffic was higher than the combined traffic of everyone else in the group.

As a result, this idol group, which barely had any chemistry to begin with and hailed from different companies, essentially disbanded in less than a year. Although they claimed to be “flying solo but not disbanding,” in reality, there was no difference from disbanding; it was just a nicer way of putting it.

The other party finally stopped after dancing for a good half hour. Jiang Fanxing stood there silently holding his coffee. Hehe, finished dancing right as nap time ended. In his mind, he was already rehearsing various scenarios of defending himself in court after committing a murder.

“Did I disturb your rest? I’m sorry, I haven’t had any schedules recently, so I wanted to learn a bit more.” Chen Kele knew who Jiang Fanxing was. The three of them had already gossiped about him in their private group chat. This guy was the artist Shen Tianqing heavily favored. Not only did he receive a contract treating him as the “Top Brother,” but he was also being personally managed by Shen Tianqing. There were even rumors that Shen Tianqing had personally gone to persuade his parents to get him to sign (this is how rumors start).

In contrast, his own debut felt completely pointless. The studio had pushed quite a few resources his way, but he hadn’t managed to hold onto them. Now, he was practically forgotten; if he got three to five minor gigs a month, he’d thank the heavens.

“You dance very well. I suggest you stop dancing,” Jiang Fanxing said unceremoniously.

If hard work were enough, there wouldn’t be so many people in the entertainment industry relying on metaphysics and finding masters to change their names.

He hated colleagues who blindly “involuted” without considering the situation. If you want to work hard, fine, work hard after hours. Why disturb other people’s naps?

Perhaps it was because Jiang Fanxing’s aura was intimidating yet he was still so good-looking, or perhaps Chen Kele was simply desperate enough to try anything, but he tentatively asked, “Um, would you be interested in… ‘selling rot’ [queerbaiting/shipping] with me? You see, we’re senior and junior brothers from the same studio—”

The words were already out of Chen Kele’s mouth. Although he felt a pang of regret, his rationality told him this was his best chance to turn things around.

Jiang Fanxing was clearly brought in by Shen Tianqing to replace Qin Shi, and in the future, he might very well skyrocket to fame. If he could manage to form a shipped couple with him, countless schedule opportunities would naturally come knocking.

“Jiang-ge, why are you here? Chen-ge, my apologies, Jiang-ge is cutting carbs right now, please bear with him—” Little Zhou barged in like a godsend, directly cutting off Chen Kele’s words. As Shen Tianqing’s trusted aide, Little Zhou clearly knew that Shen Tianqing had no intention of renewing Chen Kele’s contract, so there was absolutely no way he would let him cling to Jiang Fanxing for hype.

Running a studio was for making money, not doing charity. If Chen Kele couldn’t rise after being fed so many resources, Shen Tianqing was out of options too.

Little Zhou wasn’t worried about Jiang Fanxing suffering a loss; he was worried that Jiang Fanxing’s sharp tongue might provoke Chen Kele into a physical fight.

“How presumptuous. There’s no need,” Jiang Fanxing gave no face whatsoever. He shipped himself for money, not to play bodhisattva. “However, since we are colleagues, I suggest you don’t bother shipping CPs. This track is too crowded, and you won’t be able to stand out. Your looks are only average, but your body is quite good. I suggest you try showing off your abs and becoming a ‘Male Bodhisattva’ idol; maybe you can rise to prominence that way.”

“Jiang-ge, Jiang-ge, what are you saying?” Little Zhou was so anxious he was almost ready to cover Jiang Fanxing’s mouth.

Sure enough, dieting too hard has activated Jiang Fanxing’s ‘kill gods, slay buddhas’ mode.

He’s clearly losing his mind; otherwise, how could he offer such ice-cold advice?

Chen Kele fell silent for a moment, seeming to actually consider it.

Hey, hey, hey, don’t actually believe him!