Chapter 24: The Fallen Child Star (24) Part 1

Half an hour later, the car arrived at the recruitment market.

Located in a small town near the seaside villas, the recruitment market wasn’t large. At Wen Qiu’s suggestion, the group toured the entire market from start to finish.

The production team had clearly made arrangements in advance, as there were numerous short-term jobs available with daily pay, including positions for extras and general workers in large film crews.

Wen Qiu’s group decided to apply as zoo tour guides, while Shi Qingqing’s group chose a dance studio. Xu Weiheng and Xu Yiyuan, almost simultaneously, opted to join the film crew.

After selecting their respective jobs, the four groups set off again.

Upon arrival at their destination, the casting director appeared and led everyone into the film base.

The crew Yao Rong and the others joined was producing a historical drama set in the Republic of China era, titled ‘Glorious Youth’. This TV series was a tribute to the nation’s founding, depicting students’ struggles to save their country during a time of crisis. Consequently, many of the background roles were perfectly suited for Xu Weiheng and Xu Yiyuan.

“We’re about to shoot a scene where students are being suppressed during a protest,” the casting director explained. “We happen to have two student leader roles still uncast. Here are your scripts. You can memorize your lines while getting your makeup done.”

After assigning roles to Xu Weiheng and Xu Yiyuan, the casting director arranged for Xu Ji to work in logistics. Then, turning to Yao Rong with a smile, he said, “Hello, Teacher Yao.”

Yao Rong returned the smile. “Hello.”

“It’s like this,” the casting director said, rubbing his hands together. “I heard you’re skilled at wood carving. As it happens, someone from our props department is out sick for a few days. Would you be interested in helping out there?”

Compared to manual labor, working in the props department was certainly easier. Yao Rong had no objections.

However, she still negotiated for some flexibility: “I’ll complete the tasks assigned to me, but could I occasionally step out for a walk?”

The casting director happily agreed. “Of course. Do you need anything from our crew?”

“No,” Yao Rong shook her head, explaining further, “I’ve just never watched my son act before. I’d like to go see.”

For the convenience of the live broadcast, Xu Weiheng was given a private dressing room.

Sitting in the room, Xu Weiheng reviewed his script. He was to play a student leader who gets captured and imprisoned while covering his classmates’ retreat. The character had only three scenes and three lines, so Xu Weiheng quickly memorized the script.

However, because the character’s role was so brief, the script provided no background information beyond stating he was a student leader.

As the makeup artist worked on his face, Xu Weiheng closed his eyes, following the artist’s movements. In his mind, he began to sketch out the character’s mannerisms and demeanor, trying to flesh out the role as much as possible in the shortest time.

After the release of the post-apocalyptic disaster film ‘2050 II’, numerous online criticisms had targeted his acting. Some claimed, ‘His acting dragged down the entire crew’ and, ‘His performance was far worse than Xu Yiyuan’s’.

Faced with these harsh and biased comments, Xu Weiheng had never publicly defended himself. Although his acting wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t outstanding enough to be widely acknowledged by the public.

Now that he finally had a chance to prove himself, he had to give it his all and seize the opportunity firmly.

As the makeup artist was finishing his hair, someone opened the door. “Is Xu Weiheng ready? You’re on in one scene.”

“Ready,” Xu Weiheng responded, thanked the makeup artist, and stepped out with the script in hand.

His dressing room was at the far end of the corridor.

Through the camera following closely behind him, all viewers in the live broadcast could see clearly:

Xu Weiheng pushed open the room door and stood still for a few seconds. He then carefully folded the script and tucked it into his pocket. Step by step, he walked forward, passing through the narrow, dark passage, and pushed open a heavy wooden door.

In an instant, dazzling sunlight poured in from all directions, like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea.

The young man, dressed in a Zhongshan suit and wearing a black navy cap, seemed to smile.

“The sunshine is beautiful today,” he mused.

As he spoke, the camera slowly panned up from his back.

The sky, which had just experienced a light drizzle, had cleared. The sun hung high in the horizon.

The azure sky seemed as if it had been washed clean, bright and clear.

[The sunshine is really beautiful today]

[Sunshine is beautiful +1, the sky in coastal cities looks clearer than inland]

Countless comments on the live stream echoed Xu Weiheng’s sentiment about the weather. Only a few viewers subtly sensed his inner feelings while analyzing the scene that had just been captured.

[I don’t know why, but watching Xu Weiheng walk from that narrow, dark corridor into the bright studio made me feel like crying]

[After being drowned by public criticism, Xu Weiheng is finally back here—congratulations!]

Five minutes later, all departments of the crew were ready. With a call of ‘action’ from the stage manager, everyone seemed transported back to the turbulent Republic era.

Xu Weiheng’s character had no name. Dressed in typical student attire of that time and clutching a thick stack of flyers in his arms along with an old bag full of newspapers that weighed heavily on him—almost enough to bend his back—he still stood tall and straight.

He walked silently for a moment before suddenly stopping as if sensing something beneath him. On the floor lay several flyers trampled by multiple footprints. If he took another step forward, he would surely step on them too.

But those flyers represented hours of hard work he and his classmates had put into copying them by hand.

After pausing for less than two seconds, he quickly bent down to pick up each flyer carefully, brushing off dust before rushing forward again.

[!!!]

[Is it just me? I think Xu Weiheng did really well in this scene; why did people always criticize his acting?]

[I don’t understand acting but I think he performed well +1]

“Great! That scene’s a wrap!” the director’s voice came from behind the camera. He replayed what they had just filmed and added: “We’ll need to reshoot a close-up of you bending down later.”

Bending down to pick up flyers wasn’t even in the script; it was an improvisation made by Xu Weiheng based on the circumstances. This adjustment took only two extra seconds but solidified his character in that moment entirely.

Xu Weiheng bowed deeply: “Thank you, Director.”

The director waved him off: “You did great just now. Keep it up for the next scene.”

[The director praised Xu Weiheng; looks like he really acted well!]

[Honestly I know nothing about acting but seeing Xu Weiheng’s scene made me feel bittersweet; I empathized with him for just a moment.]

Xu Weiheng thanked the director again. During that last scene, he hadn’t thought about how he should act or whether he would mess up; he simply immersed himself fully into performing.

When completely absorbed in acting once more, Xu Weiheng realized he had rediscovered something lost long ago—

His love for acting.

With time before his next scene began, Xu Weiheng planned to find Yao Rong to share his joy before preparing again. But just as he took two steps forward, Yao Rong suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Xu Weiheng exclaimed happily: “I was just about to look for you!”

Yao Rong clapped her hands with a beaming smile: “I was watching you act from under that tree; you were fantastic!”

Hearing this made Xu Weiheng’s eyes light up: “I felt great too.”

Before Yao Rong could ask anything further, he excitedly said: “Did you see me bend down to pick up those flyers?”

Yao Rong nodded affirmatively.

“I have to tell you—actually that action wasn’t scripted! I didn’t mean to add anything extra but while walking I realized if I didn’t stop soon I would step right on them. Then I got into character and felt so bad about it that I instinctively bent down to pick them up.” His excitement bubbled over as this was unlike him normally.

[Wow! You designed that yourself? Impressive!]

[I thought that shot flowed naturally earlier; now hearing Xu Weiheng’s explanation makes me realize how well he handled it.]

While Xu Weiheng rambled excitedly about his experience, Yao Rong listened attentively without interrupting, her praises occasionally whispered softly.

With her encouragement fueling him further, enthusiasm grew within him as well.

After quite some time passed by, he suddenly realized: “Am I holding you up?”

Yao Rong assured him: “Of course not! I finished my morning tasks already.” She had made sure to clear her schedule just for this moment together with him.

Only then did Xu Weiheng feel at ease.

“Xu Yiyuan—”

“Xu Yiyuan, are you ready? You’re on in five minutes!” the stage manager called out.

Yao Rong raised an eyebrow and asked Xu Weiheng, “Shall we go check it out?”

“Sure, let’s take a look.”

Xu Yiyuan was feeling incredibly anxious. He had been secretly observing Xu Weiheng’s performance from the shadows.

Despite his two years in the industry, Xu Yiyuan knew he couldn’t match Xu Weiheng’s performance. He hadn’t forgotten all the self-promotion he’d done.

His reputation had already taken a significant hit. If his acting fell short of Xu Weiheng’s now, public opinion would turn against him fiercely.

For a moment, Xu Yiyuan even considered quitting. But it was his turn to act, and whether he performed or not, the outcome would likely be equally dire.

At least by acting, there was still a chance for redemption. Xu Yiyuan tried to comfort himself with this thought.

However, he had forgotten one crucial thing: he had enjoyed smooth sailing for far too long. Now, faced with adversity, he simply couldn’t adjust his mindset in just a few minutes.

His acting skills were already mediocre. Without the right state of mind, he could only deliver a fraction of his potential. This was especially apparent in his first scene, which mirrored Xu Weiheng’s – running through the streets distributing flyers. The side-by-side comparison was brutally unforgiving.

Even though the director of “Glorious Youth” wasn’t being too strict due to the live broadcast, he was visibly frustrated by Xu Yiyuan’s performance.

[Xu Yiyuan’s acting is terrible! During such chaotic times, these students were risking everything, yet he’s smiling as if it’s some teen idol drama!]

[Thanks, I’m cringing so hard I could build a castle.]

[Seriously? With that level of skill, he dares to market himself as a good actor?]

It took five takes before Xu Yiyuan finally got through the first scene.

He hurried off the set, feeling like everyone around him was mocking him.

With this mindset, his performance in the second scene worsened even further, requiring eight takes before wrapping up sloppily.

By 5 PM, the Wen Qiu and Shi Qingqing teams, having completed their tasks and received their pay, arrived at the set.

As soon as they entered, they sensed the strange atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” Wen Qiu instinctively lowered her voice.

“Aunt Yao is over there. Let’s go ask her,” Shi Qingqing pointed at Yao Rong, who was waving at them.

“All finished?” Yao Rong asked as they approached.

“Yes, we’re done,” Wen Qiu smiled, then asked what everyone was waiting for.

Yao Rong explained, “We’re waiting to shoot the last scene of the day, which is also the only scene where Weiheng and Xu Yiyuan act together.”

Wen Qiu raised her eyebrows; they had arrived just in time for some excitement.

The final scene involved Xu Weiheng and Xu Yiyuan being apprehended by police officers on the street. When the director called ‘Action!’, flyers were blown everywhere by wind machines as Xu Weiheng and Xu Yiyuan led the students in evading the pursuit of the patrol.

Compared to the previous scenes, this one was much more chaotic and prone to issues.

The director frowned as he watched for a few seconds, then couldn’t help but call “Cut!”. He restrained his temper and said to Xu Yiyuan, “You’re the student leader. You’re leading them in a retreat, don’t charge forward so aggressively.”

Xu Yiyuan pressed his dry lips together, “Got it, Director.”

But in the subsequent takes, there were two more cuts.

The director had no choice but to let everyone take a five-minute break to adjust.

Xu Yiyuan kept his head down, his expression gloomy.

As Xu Weiheng was about to pass by him, Xu Yiyuan suddenly turned off his microphone and coldly said, “Back in ‘2050 II’, your acting was clearly about the same as mine. I don’t accept this.”

Xu Weiheng stopped in his tracks.

He was half a head taller than Xu Yiyuan and looked down at him.

“Whether you accept it or not, this is the reality. Xu Yiyuan, you’ll never understand what I’ve been through to stand here again.”

With those words, Xu Weiheng straightened his tilted black navy cap and walked over to greet Wen Qiu and Shi Qingqing, leaving Xu Yiyuan standing there, lost and defeated.