Reborn as a comedic artist

For the next four hours, the Elephant Rehearsal Room was completely transformed into a battlefield isolated from the outside world.

There was no laughter, no horseplay.

There was only the tedious repetition over and over again, and Cheng Ming's almost obsessive pickiness.

"Stop! Sister Panda, the bass line came in half a beat too early, the emotion is off, let's start over."

"Miss Zhao, pull yourself together! I want that heart-stopping pressure, not some wooden fish drum. Let's start over!"

"Fatty, that high note was a bit weak, your breath control is getting worse, try again...!"

Sweat trickled down Lin Yiyi's forehead and dripped onto the bass panel. She bit her lip, her fingers red and swollen from pressing for a long time, but she didn't utter a sound.

Zhao Yufeng's tight T-shirt was already soaked with sweat, clinging to her body and outlining her breathtaking curves. She shook her aching wrists, but her eyes grew even more fierce, and she almost broke the drumsticks in her hands.

Even Gu Xiao, who is usually the most composed, had fine beads of sweat on her forehead at this moment, and a few strands of hair stuck to her cheeks, but she didn't bother to brush them away.

The piece was finally completed at midday when the sun was at its highest.

Cheng Ming put down his guitar, and even though he was a top-tier player, his voice was a little hoarse: "Perfect."

"Splash...!"

When Lin Yiyi heard Cheng Ming say that the song had finally been recorded, she collapsed to the ground, hugging her bass and refusing to move.

Zhao Yufeng threw down his drumsticks, leaned back in his chair, and gasped for breath.

Wang Shuo threw down the microphone, his steps unsteady, and plopped down on the sofa, grabbing a bottle of mineral water from the table and gulping it down.

"Old Cheng... if you don't call a stop soon, I'm really going to go see my great-grandmother...!"

Cheng Ming smiled, walked to the control panel, and skillfully exported and initially mixed the track files he had just recorded.

Although everyone was exhausted, when the final version of "The Wind Rises" flowed from the monitor speakers, everyone's fatigue seemed to vanish in an instant.

The piano in the prelude is as clear as a spring, the bass line lays a solid emotional foundation, the drumbeats are as rhythmic as a heartbeat, and the guitar solo pierces through the fog of memories.

Furthermore, the two individuals' distinctly different voices and contrasting styles complement each other perfectly, making it a decisive factor.

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

However, while the small rehearsal room was immersed in the joy of completing the work, the outside world on the internet had already stirred up a huge uproar because of Cheng Ming's previous groundwork.

"Light and Shadow Tea Party" on a well-known domestic film and television forum.

This forum, which is usually filled with comparisons, box office predictions, and various so-called "industry insider" revelations, was dominated by a single post that occupied the top spot today.

The headline is glaringly red: "A Closer Look at the Recently Viral Sichuan Dialect Videos: Are They Art or Clowns?"

The poster's ID was "Cold-eyed Bystander," and their profile picture was a black and white film reel, exuding a self-righteous sense of professionalism.

The main post, a lengthy piece of several thousand words with detailed illustrations, thoroughly criticized Cheng Ming's previous "abstract" videos, from camera movement and composition analysis to micro-expression management.

"...In conclusion, this so-called 'Cheng Ming' is nothing more than an opportunist who is well-versed in the culture of ugliness."

He not only disgraced Sichuan music, but also desecrated the word "art".

The exaggerated body language and nonsensical lines, aside from trying to grab attention and generate traffic, I see absolutely no professional competence befitting an art student.

Conclusion: This is just a clown desperate for fame.

The replies below have already piled up to a towering height, all unanimously agreeing.

"The original poster is absolutely right! Art students these days are too impatient. They don't want to hone their basic skills; all they think about is taking shortcuts."

"Shu music? Hah, it's long since declined. It's pathetic that this kind of stuff can become popular."

"That guy named Cheng Ming is quite handsome, but unfortunately he's just a pretty face. All he does is create abstract art and play the victim to get attention. If someone like him can become famous, everyone here has a responsibility."

"And that fat guy, he looks greasy. Birds of a feather flock together."

Keyboard warriors' revelry often requires no logic, only an outlet for their frustrations.

In just a few hours, Cheng Ming and his "abstract art" were nailed to the pillar of shame, as if they had become the scum of the entire art world.

……

A week has passed in the blink of an eye.

This week has been a seven-day period of constant gossip and speculation for the people of Shuyin.

For Cheng Ming, however, it was the calm before the storm.

He ignored the online flame wars and spent his time either in his studio or going out to find a secluded spot to go fishing.

During this period, he uploaded the video of "Artistic Essence" at the system refresh point, received 500 art points as a system reward, and then let things escalate.

Until that afternoon.

The studio door was suddenly kicked open with a loud bang.

"It's exploded... Old Cheng! It's completely exploded!"

Wang Shuo burst in like a wild boar out of control, holding his phone in his hand.

Cheng Ming was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed when he was startled by the sudden, violent impact.

"Fatty, if you keep acting like this, I'll kick you out of the team sooner or later..."

"Oh dear, what time is it and you're still worrying about these things...!"

Wang Shuo slammed his hand on the table, causing the water glass on the table to shake violently.

He plopped down next to Cheng Ming and handed him his phone.

"Look for yourself! Those videos, 'Shuyin Art' and 'The True Colors of Art,' have over 30 million views! Especially that video imitating Chow Yun-fat, the numbers are practically skyrocketing..."

The screen was filled with densely packed bullet comments, and the data bars, which were so red they looked like they were about to burst through the screen.

The video shows the classic scene from "A Better Tomorrow" that he and Wang Shuo performed together on the observation deck that day.

At that time, Cheng Ming was dragging one leg and disappeared in a limp. Even through the screen, his silhouette was unforgettable.

Wang Shuo's fingers flew across the comments section.

In contrast to the previously uniform mockery and insults at the "Light and Shadow Tea Party," a bizarre reversal has now occurred.

"Holy crap... that look in his eyes, it gave me goosebumps."

"Who said he was the Joker? His acting skills far surpass those of today's young heartthrobs..."

"Sorry, my voice was a bit too loud earlier. This is seriously bringing Chow Yun-fat to life...!"

"I'm begging for him to debut! His eye acting is amazing! Especially that desolate back view, it made me cry, who understands?"

"I've gone from hating to liking! Turns out the abstract stuff before was just a joke, now that's real talent...!"

Looking at these comments, Wang Shuo couldn't stop smiling.

"These haters are really something. Just a couple of days ago they were shouting for violence, and now they're all posting 'sorry,' don't they feel ashamed?"

While complaining, Wang Shuo grabbed a bottle of water from the side and took a big gulp.

"Old Cheng, you didn't see that 'cold-eyed bystander' poster. He's been bombarded with criticism and the thread is locked now. It's hilarious..."

Cheng Ming subtly withdrew his leg, changed his posture, and his expression remained calm.

"That's normal. That's just how the internet is—an outlet for emotions... What they need isn't the truth, but a target to vent their feelings on."

When you act like a clown, they laugh at you; when you demonstrate your abilities, they elevate you to a pedestal.

These words were too insightful, so insightful that they were somewhat cold.

After all, we've lived through 2026, and we've seen all sorts of storms online.

Wang Shuo was stunned for a moment, looking at his best friend who was too young yet mature, and couldn't help but give him a thumbs up.

"Godfather, please accept my bow. With your mindset, it's a real pity you're not becoming a monk."

"Stop being so glib. How's that matter going...?"

Cheng Ming pushed the phone back.

Upon hearing that it was serious business, Wang Shuo immediately dropped his playful grin.

He pulled a brown paper document bag from the bulging backpack behind him and solemnly pushed it in front of Cheng Ming.

"That woman Gu Xiao... oh no, I mean, Butler Gu is really reliable. She used her connections to expedite this, and it was just delivered."

Cheng Ming took the file bag, used his fingertips to untangle the white thread, and pulled out the documents inside.

Black ink on white paper, bright red seal.

The Chinese version of "The Wind Rises" has a full copyright registration certificate.

Looking at the document, Cheng Ming smiled.

"Everything is ready, except for the final push; it's time for a result...!"

Cheng Ming gently tapped the document on the table, making a soft "snap" sound.

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