Reborn as a comedic artist

Cheng Ming wasn't scared off; instead, he moved even closer, his deep eyes filled with concern, yet also with a touch of naivety that was infuriating.

"Brother Shuo, you don't look well. Are you feeling unwell...?"

Wang Shuo rolled his eyes, slammed the shovel into the ground, swayed slightly, and spoke in a hoarse voice, filled with deep exhaustion:

"I'm feeling a bit weak, I've got heatstroke... What are you trying to do now...? Leave me alone, Xiaoming, all I want to do right now is clean up the ash and save up to buy a better camera..."

"I want to tell you, Brother Shuo, I've figured it out...!"

Cheng Ming suddenly raised his voice, his eyes flashing with a fanatical light.

Wang Shuo looked at him like he was an idiot: "You figured it out?"

"I've finally realized that to truly promote the art of photography, you have to pay attention to packaging...!"

Cheng Ming waved his arms excitedly.

What kind of packaging?

Wang Shuo asked the question subconsciously, then regretted responding.

Cheng Ming suddenly leaned close to Wang Shuo, lowered his voice, and mysteriously uttered two words: "Singing...!"

Wang Shuo paused for a second, then couldn't help but laugh.

The laughter was filled with helplessness, even a hint of sympathy. He shook his head, picked up the cement, and was about to leave.

"You might not believe what happened to me today. I was passing by the rehearsal room of Shuyin..." Cheng Ming continued rambling.

"Stop talking!"

Wang Shuo suddenly turned around and interrupted him.

"Photography art plus singing and dancing, do you think it's a good business opportunity...!" Cheng Ming persisted, his eyes filled with a terrifying intensity.

"This is a no-go...! We're studying photography, not singing and dancing! Wake up, will you...!"

Wang Shuo's voice turned cold, filled with despair.

"How do you know it's a no-go if you haven't even tried...?"

Cheng Ming asked back, his tone tinged with grievance.

Wang Shuo took a deep breath, pointed to the steel and concrete scattered all around him, and to the sweating workers:

"I advise you to be down-to-earth. I have a job doing mortar work, 150 yuan a day, room and board included. If you don't like it, take it for now, and stop dreaming...!"

.............

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

Cheng Ming stood there, looking at his brother, whose edges had been worn smooth by life.

The fervor on his face slowly faded, replaced by an unprecedented seriousness.

He straightened his back, his eyes becoming incredibly clear, and said, word by word, "If a person has no dreams, what's the difference between them and a salted fish!"

Upon hearing this, Huang Yuxi, who was filming, suddenly trembled.

Although it's a very old and tired line.

But at this moment, on this dusty construction site, when Cheng Ming spoke these words, they carried a resounding power.

Wang Shuo was stunned.

He looked at Cheng Ming, a flicker of wavering in his eyes, but it was quickly masked by the harsh reality.

"Because of your art, now your camera has been smashed, what dreams are you talking about... Wake up, we need to eat, we need to live...!" Wang Shuo pointed at Cheng Ming's empty hand, his voice trembling slightly.

"You can't say that. My pursuit of art will never stop...!" Cheng Ming remained stubborn.

"That's enough!"

"I'll do my construction work, you do your art. We need to support our families, brother..." Wang Shuo waved his hand sharply, as if shooing away a fly, or perhaps trying to extinguish the embers of resentment burning within him.

After saying that, he bent down and grabbed the heavy bag of cement with both hands.

That bag of cement was like the life weighing him down—heavy, rough, making it impossible for him to straighten his back.

Looking at Wang Shuo's hunched back, Cheng Ming suddenly shouted, "You've carried this camera for four years, are you just going to let it go to waste...?"

The roar resounded like a thunderclap across the construction site.

Wang Shuo's movements stopped.

He had his back to the camera, and his shoulders were heaving violently.

A full five seconds passed.

He turned around abruptly, his eyes red-rimmed, and the veins on his neck throbbing with excitement.

Wang Shuo roared, his voice hoarse but resolute: "Wrong! My skills in carrying the camera have never been wasted...!"

After saying that, he roared and used his strength to hoist the 100-pound bag of cement onto his shoulder, his movements as precise as if he were carrying a movie projector worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Dust flew everywhere.

Amidst the swirling dust, Wang Shuo's figure appeared incredibly tall, as if he were carrying not cement, but his damned, misplaced talent.

Huang Yuxi then made a cameo appearance. Remembering their past friendship, she heard that Wang Shuo was now down on his luck and that his bar business was also in dire straits. She wanted to ask him to film a promotional video and offer some advice.

Wang Shuo seized the opportunity to propose combining photography with singing and dancing.

..........

Sunset West Mountain.

The heat at the construction site finally subsided somewhat as the mixer stopped.

Wang Shuo changed back into his own clothes. Although he was still covered in dust and his hair was full of sand, at least he looked presentable.

He carried several bags of "Jiaozi" cigarettes that Cheng Ming had brought, and distributed them to the workers who were helping out as extras.

"Thanks, gentlemen! I'll treat you to drinks another day!"

Wang Shuo clasped his hands together, his round face beaming with a sincere smile, looking exactly like a construction foreman who had just finished get off work.

"Young man, don't be so polite! Come visit often!"

The foreman took the cigarette, tucked it behind his ear, patted Wang Shuo's broad shoulder, and smiled broadly, his face crinkling with wrinkles.

"I think you've got the build for a job. If you can't find one after graduation, I'll always welcome you. I'll raise your daily wage to three hundred...!"

Wang Shuo's lips twitched violently, and his knees buckled, almost causing him to kneel down.

"Uncle, please have some good wishes for me... I want to live for another two years."

After saying goodbye to their enthusiastic coworkers, the three of them got into Huang Yuxi's little red car.

The moment the car door closed, the noise and heat of the outside world were shut out.

The air conditioner was turned on, and a blast of cold air hit me, giving me goosebumps.

"He's alive..."

Wang Shuo let out a long sigh, slumped into the passenger seat like a lump of mud, and lowered the seat to its lowest position.

..........

Inside the Civic, the poignant "Norwegian Wood" by 500 was being subjected to a devastating attack.

Huang Yuxi truly lived up to her reputation as Wu Bai's nemesis; the tune she hummed was like a kite with a broken string, soaring freely beyond the staff.

Let me pluck your heart and try to melt it slowly.

Every note transition perfectly avoids the original key, directly hitting the deepest pain points of the soul.

Wang Shuo casually propped his legs up on the back of the seat in front of him, looking like a lump of mud.

His face was ashen, and his eyes stared blankly at the roof of the car, as if it were the entrance to paradise.

"Old Cheng, could you ask the counselor to change the song? I feel like my great-grandmother isn't just waving, she's about to come down and pick me up..."

"Just bear with it, the counselor is trying to keep us awake..."

Cheng Ming sat in the passenger seat, looking completely absorbed in the music. She was captivated by other people's singing, but she actually deeply regretted her decision back then.

Wang Shuo muttered something, then rolled over and whispered, "To perk you up? Is this a way of sending you off...? You're going back to school soon, don't look like you're about to poop, it'll be difficult to handle the next scene...?"

"It's going to be tough. That scene was just the prelude. The main focus is on the cinematography, singing, and dancing. Besides the two of us, we also need Zhao Yufeng, Gu Xiao, Lin Yiyi to accompany us, and dozens of extras."

Cheng Ming rubbed his throbbing temples.

Upon hearing the words "extras," Wang Shuo sat bolt upright as if he had risen from the dead, his fat body jiggling three times.

"Old Cheng, those three sisters are incredibly skilled. As long as they don't burst out laughing, there shouldn't be any problems."

But where are we going to find so many extras? And they have to look like villains, preferably with a menacing face that makes you want to call the police.

Cheng Ming turned his head and tapped lightly on the edge of the car window with his fingers.

"Our school has no shortage of people who want to be in the spotlight."

Zhao Yufeng's group of gym buddies, who usually look intimidating, will all come running if you tell them they can get screen time and play "gangster bosses" in videos.

At this point, Cheng Ming said mysteriously, "Besides, we have quite a few enemies in the music department. There are many who want to beat us up. The only uncertainty is how many takes we can get right, and whether our bodies can handle it. After all, filming this kind of thing in real life inevitably involves physical pain..."

Wang Shuo swallowed hard, subconsciously touching the back of his head: "For the sake of art... should I buy some insurance in advance?"

"It's too late. If I don't go to hell, who will?"

..............