The plump orange tabby lay on the ground for a while, watching the two-legged creature nearby who shows no intention of picking him up. Narrowing its eyes slightly, it seemed to be plotting something.

Just as Yuan Xi thought the fat tabby was about to reach out a paw toward him, the aunt walking ahead turned back.

“Oh, Fatty, there you are! This is a guest, so don’t make trouble. Come on, let’s go inside and have some fish snacks.”

The moment the orange tabby heard the words “fish snacks,” its half-closed eyes lit up with obedience. Abandoning its act, it stood up, trotted over to the aunt’s feet, and let out a sweet, syrupy meow.

The aunt bent down to pick up the orange tabby, then glanced apologetically at Yuan Xi. “Sorry about that! Fatty often tricks the old master and the young master into giving it fish snacks. So, when it’s outside, it sometimes tries its luck with strangers, hoping to score some treats.”

Yuan Xi: … No wonder it’s so plump—still eating like that.

“N-No problem. Fatty is really adorable.”

As if it understood Yuan Xi’s compliment, Fatty glanced at him and let out another soft, sweet meow. Its fluffy demeanor tugged at Yuan Xi’s heartstrings, making him feel a surge of warmth.

After leading Yuan Xi through the door, the aunt’s eyes landed on an elderly man sitting on the sofa.

Although he was over sixty, Xu Guoyi still looked incredibly energetic. His hair was streaked with gray, but his sharp, bright eyes exuded vigor. When Yuan Xi met his gaze, he couldn’t help but think of his old school principal.

“Hello, Teacher. My name is Yuan Xi. My manager is Chen Yang, and I’m a new talent recently signed by Xingyao Entertainment.”

Yuan Xi stood obediently in front of Xu Guoyi, patiently waiting for his evaluation.

His demeanor was respectful, and his gaze held a sense of curiosity and longing for the wider world. There was no hint of calculation or superficial flattery in his eyes, unlike so many others. He genuinely treated Xu Guoyi as a teacher, while presenting himself as a student.

Xu Guoyi nodded inwardly, his opinion of Yuan Xi rising a notch. However, he wasn’t entirely satisfied with Yuan Xi’s introduction.

“I know all that. But, kid, you didn’t mention your relationship with Yunzhou. Chen Yang alone wouldn’t have been able to connect you to me. And… Fu Yunzhou told me your tuition fees were paid from his account.”

Xu Guoyi scrutinized Yuan Xi from head to toe, his sharp gaze fixed on him, curious to see how Yuan Xi would respond.

Yuan Xi froze for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by the revelation that Fu Yunzhou had actually paid his tuition. He’d assumed it was just a joke. After all, for training and education of this sort, it was usually the company footing the bill. But now it seemed…

This teacher standing before him must be quite influential.

“Yunzhou is my boss. I used to be his assistant. Later, when he changed jobs, he handed me over to Chen Yang. Maybe… it’s because he’s a generous boss?”

After finishing his explanation, even Yuan Xi himself felt that the excuse sounded weak.

Unexpectedly, after hearing Yuan Xi’s weak excuse, Xu Guoyi chuckled a few times and chose not to press further.

“I heard you like acting? Let me make one thing clear: I’m very strict when it comes to teaching. I don’t care what your relationship with Yunzhou is. I won’t go easy on you.” Xu Guoyi said, his tone turning serious as the humor faded from his face.

Xu Guoyi came from a theater background, a field that demands exceptional acting skills.

Known for his stern and traditional demeanor, Xu Guoyi was especially rigorous in his teaching. With his students, regardless of age or gender, he maintained a strict approach. If something wasn’t up to standard, he wouldn’t hesitate to offer harsh criticism, sometimes even reducing students to tears.

However, Yuan Xi knew none of this.

Hearing the seriousness in Xu Guoyi’s voice, Yuan Xi put aside his initial nervousness and matched his teacher’s earnestness. “Understood, Teacher! I will work hard and learn everything I can!”

After this brief exchange, Xu Guoyi began to ask about Yuan Xi’s background and skills.

In both his past life and this one, Yuan Xi had zero foundational training in acting. It only took a few short performances for Xu Guoyi to pinpoint the issues in Yuan Xi’s technique.

Acting isn’t something that can be mastered overnight. For someone like Yuan Xi, who was starting from scratch, building a solid foundation was essential.

“Yuan Xi, right? Why don’t you tell me your understanding of acting?” Xu Guoyi didn’t immediately critique Yuan Xi’s performance. Instead, he approached the topic conversationally, gesturing for him to sit. “Go ahead, take a seat.”

Yuan Xi found a single armchair and sat down, falling into a brief silence.

Understanding acting?

He had never really thought about it. To him, acting was simply fun—a chance to transform into various characters instead of being confined to just one image. Those who could seamlessly adapt and control their performances seemed incredibly impressive to Yuan Xi.

His expression turned a bit confused. “Acting… I think it’s about interpreting a character,” he said slowly. “Bringing different characters’ stories to life. It’s not just a way to challenge yourself but also a way to learn a lot of things.”

“Learn a lot of things? Like what?” Xu Guoyi raised an eyebrow, surprised by Yuan Xi’s answer.

To many, acting was just a craft—a tool for earning a living. It involved portraying various characters and telling different stories. Since every story was unique, it required a deep understanding to truly bring a character to life.

But now Yuan Xi had mentioned “understanding many things,” which piqued Xu Guoyi’s curiosity.

Yuan Xi nodded, his expression serious. “I think every character has a unique story. There are many experiences we’d never encounter in our daily lives, but they appear in scripts. Acting allows us to imagine how we might react in those situations. Plus, since each story is different, we might need to meet and learn from people connected to those experiences to understand them better.”

“Many people go through things we’ll never face in a lifetime. But for actors to improve their craft, they need to explore those experiences firsthand. Only by seeing and feeling them can they truly grasp ideas we’d never think of on our own. I don’t know much about actors—most of what I know comes from snippets online—but I’ve heard many respected veterans say that a good actor must connect with the kind of person they’re portraying and experience their life.”

Yuan Xi’s earnestness shone through as he spoke, his eyes reflecting a genuine passion for acting.

When he talked about acting, it wasn’t about fame or popularity but a pure desire to portray diverse lives and stories.

Xu Guoyi’s eyes softened, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “So, you’re saying you don’t want to make big money or gain massive popularity?”

Yuan Xi tilted his head, pondering seriously before shaking it. “Not really. High popularity means more scrutiny, and everything you do gets followed. It feels like there’d be no privacy, which doesn’t sound great. Besides…”

He hesitated mid-sentence, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Besides, I… like men. If I were really famous, dating would probably become a hassle.”

“Haha!” Xu Guoyi burst into laughter, clearly amused. He gave Yuan Xi a teasing glance but didn’t press the matter. Instead, he shifted his focus to critiquing Yuan Xi’s acting.

“Your earlier performance? It can only be described as a complete mess. That said, it’s understandable—you’re starting from zero. You’ve never studied acting, so you lack both experience and technique. These flaws are natural for someone with no training.” Xu Guoyi said, his critique straightforward but not overly harsh.

After their conversation, Xu Guoyi assessed Yuan Xi’s potential and began tailoring a personalized teaching plan.

By the end of the morning, Xu Guoyi had crafted a plan that addressed Yuan Xi’s weaknesses and suited his abilities. Yuan Xi stayed for lunch, and after eating, resumed lessons in the afternoon.

Yuan Xi approached his lessons with utmost seriousness. He was well aware that he couldn’t compare to those who had graduated from prestigious acting academies, so he knew he needed to put in extra effort to catch up.

Noticing Yuan Xi’s dedication and determination, Xu Guoyi also became more earnest and patient in his teaching.

The afternoon passed quickly as the two immersed themselves in teaching and learning. When the driver arrived to pick up Yuan Xi, he was still deeply absorbed in the “ocean of knowledge.”

The housekeeper had to come upstairs to snap both teacher and student out of their focused states.

Glancing at the sunset outside, Yuan Xi stood up apologetically and said goodbye to Xu Guoyi before leaving.

When the driver brought Yuan Xi back to the main residence, Fu Yunzhou had yet to return home. The housekeeper had already prepared a hearty dinner, likely knowing Yuan Xi would need nourishment after a long day of study. Many of the dishes were specifically chosen to boost brain function.

Yuan Xi thanked Aunt Zhang with a grateful smile. After a full day of learning, he felt the need to recharge his brain—he was sure today had been the most mentally draining day of the month.

After washing his hands, he sat down at the dining table. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he noted it was already close to 6 PM.

“Where’s Yunzhou? Hasn’t he come back yet?” Yuan Xi asked, glancing at the empty dining table where he sat alone. He couldn’t help but look toward Aunt Zhang.

After arranging the dishes on the table, Aunt Zhang turned back toward the kitchen. Hearing Yuan Xi’s question, she called out from a distance. “Yunzhou is busy with work at the office today. He might be back quite late. You go ahead and eat first.”

Yuan Xi glanced at the time, his fingers brushing over his phone as a trace of worry crept into his heart.

He knew Yunzhou had started a new job today, but he didn’t know what it entailed. Back when he was Yunzhou’s assistant, Yunzhou’s schedule was rarely this hectic. But now…

Staring at his phone, Yuan Xi furrowed his brows tightly, his face full of hesitation.

“Should I call and check on him?” he muttered.

Caught in his internal conflict, Yuan Xi noted that Yunzhou hadn’t called him either. Glancing at the tempting spread on the table, Yuan Xi took a deep breath and put his phone down. “I should just eat first. If he’s busy, it’d be bad to disturb him.”

Resolving to wait, Yuan Xi reluctantly picked up his chopsticks and began eating absentmindedly.

When Aunt Zhang returned from the kitchen, she noticed Yuan Xi’s bowl of rice had been poked into a mess, and only a few bites of the dishes had been touched. His gaze kept drifting toward the phone beside him, as if he were waiting for someone to call.

“If you’re that worried, Xiao Xi, why not just call Yunzhou and ask?”

Aunt Zhang’s tone carried a hint of amusement, and her eyes held a gentle smile. When Yuan Xi looked up and saw her expression, his face instantly turned bright red. He waved his hand awkwardly, stammering in a small voice. “No, it’s not… I wasn’t…”

Seeing Yuan Xi’s flustered state, Aunt Zhang chuckled softly, shook her head, and turned to leave.

“Alright, alright, I won’t bother you. Call him and find out, and while you’re at it, ask if he wants me to save him some dinner.”

Yuan Xi opened his mouth, wanting to explain further but Aunt Zhang had already walked away briskly, disappearing from sight before he could say anything more.

Left alone in the quiet dining room, Yuan Xi glanced down at the food in front of him, then up at the clock. His fingers hovered over his phone as he hesitated, taking a deep breath before finally opening Fu Yunzhou’s contact and dialing the number.

Holding the phone to his ear, he listened to the steady beep-beep of the ringing tone.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

Fu Yunzhou’s magnetic, slightly deep voice came through from the other side: “Xiao Xi, what’s the matter?”

For a moment, Yuan Xi was completely caught off guard, as if Fu Yunzhou’s voice had struck a chord within him. He found himself momentarily speechless. After a few seconds of fumbling to recover, he finally managed to speak in a soft tone.

“Um… what time will you be home? Should I save some dinner for you? Also, don’t forget to grab something to eat in the meantime. If you eat too late, your stomach might not handle it well.”

=^_^=