Reborn as a comedic artist

The air on the campus of Shuyin seems unusually restless today.

In the past, when Cheng Liming walked on the road, he would at most attract some admiring glances.

But today, the situation has completely changed.

I had barely taken two steps into the school when I was overwhelmed by the feeling of being stared at like a giant panda.

"Look! It's Cheng Ming!"

"Holy crap, it's really alive! Taller than in the video! Those legs are so long...!"

"Ahhh! Senior Cheng! Look this way...!"

Several girls carrying books, who were walking demurely, suddenly became excited as soon as they saw Cheng Ming.

Even more audacious, several female students rushed forward.

"Senior! I'm a vocal music major. Can I add you on WeChat? I'd like to discuss high-note vocal techniques with you, even tonight...!"

"Senior! These are cookies I made, I saved them especially for you!"

"Cheng Ming! I want to have your babies...!"

A piercing roar came from behind the crowd, startling Cheng Ming so much that he stumbled.

Looking back, I saw that the person who shouted was a burly man with a thick beard.

Cheng Ming's lips twitched violently.

When did the atmosphere of Shu music become so... wild, like in later generations?

He could only maintain an awkward but polite smile, quickening his pace as he weaved through the gaps in the crowd.

"Excuse me, excuse me, thank you, thank you for your kindness, but please, no need for the monkey, the country doesn't allow keeping wild animals as pets..."

Having finally broken free from the girls' encirclement, before she could even catch her breath, she was met with the gazes of her male comrades.

Those eyes held envy, jealousy, a bittersweet longing to take their place, and pure admiration.

"Damn it, he's handsome, and talented too! How are we supposed to live?"

"Stop being so sour. Those people are practically fed by God, while we have to beg God to give us food. How can you compare?"

"Sigh, I'm really impressed by that song 'The Wind Rises,' I listened to it on repeat all night last night..."

Listening to these discussions, Cheng Ming's head, which had been heavy from a hangover, miraculously cleared up considerably.

A surge of heat called "vanity" rose from his dantian and shot straight to the top of his head.

You know what?

This feeling is fucking awesome.

Even with Cheng Ming's composure honed through two lifetimes, he felt a little lightheaded as he walked.

This feeling of being the center of attention and cherished by the whole world is indeed addictive.

However, Cheng Ming quickly regained his composure.

Because we've arrived at the administration building.

.........

Administration building, top-floor conference room.

Even before entering, you could hear the sound of someone banging on the table through the heavy solid wood door.

"That's a promising talent my media studies institute has its eye on!"

"Bullshit! Those are artists!"

Cheng Ming stood at the door, took a deep breath, and adjusted his expression.

Push open the door and enter the room.

The conference room, which was originally as noisy as a vegetable market, seemed to be muted the moment the door opened.

Five pairs of eyes, ten gazes, like searchlights, all focused on Cheng Ming.

Zhao Zhiqiang sat in the main seat, clutching his weathered thermos tightly. When he saw Cheng Ming enter, the principal's eyes instantly changed from anger to kindness, a change of expression as swift as a Sichuan opera master.

"Oh, Xiao Cheng's here! Come quick, come quick, sit here...!"

Zhao Zhiqiang was the first to stand up, his gentle tone belying his image.

The four Vajra warriors, who were originally on the verge of exchanging blows, now all sheathed their fangs.

They sat upright, trying their best to show the demeanor of teachers, but the occasional glances they cast at each other still concealed a hidden danger.

Cheng Ming did not sit down.

He stood at the end of the conference table, bowing slightly, his face displaying just the right amount of humility and apprehension.

Having experienced the complexities of modern society, he knew all too well how to handle such situations.

Speaking to people in a human language and to ghosts in a ghost language—that's a fundamental skill.

"Deans and principals, we apologize for keeping the teachers waiting..."

Cheng Ming's voice was clear and his posture was very humble: "I took a few phone calls on the way here, all of them were random business collaborations, which took up my time. I'm really sorry."

Upon hearing "business cooperation," the deans' ears immediately perked up.

Li Baoguo coughed lightly and asked tentatively, "Cheng Ming, which companies have approached you? You'd better keep your eyes open and not be fooled by those profit-driven businessmen."

"Don't worry, Dean Li."

Cheng Ming smiled, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, his eyes sincere: "Those so-called S-level contracts and multi-million dollar endorsements, I had my friends turn them all down..."

hiss--!

A collective gasp filled the conference room.

A multi-million dollar endorsement deal? You turned it down.

Zhang Shengli's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He wanted to say something with a look of disappointment, but Cheng Ming's next words shut him up.

"A person should know their own limitations; students know their own worth..."

Cheng Ming turned around and bowed deeply to Wang Jianhua:

"My modest achievements today are all thanks to Professor Wang's meticulous guidance. Without the relaxed environment provided by the photography department and Professor Wang's trust, I might still be lost..."

This flattery made Wang Jianhua feel very comfortable, and his old face beamed like a chrysanthemum.

He glanced smugly at the other three, as if to say: See? These are my own students!

Before anyone else could react, Cheng Ming turned to Zhao Zhiqiang.

"Of course, it is also inseparable from Principal Zhao and the school's visionary leadership and full support. It is the fertile ground of Sichuan Conservatory of Music that has given me the nourishment for my creations..."

Zhao Zhiqiang finally put down the thermos in his hand and nodded with a face full of relief.

This child is so sensible! He's found a brighter future...!

Having laid the groundwork, Cheng Ming changed the subject, his expression turning serious.

"Dear teachers, the reason I'm here today is to report to the school on my plans for the future..."

The atmosphere in the meeting room instantly became tense.

Is this a sign that they're going to set conditions?

Do you want money? Power? Or an independent studio?

The deans held their breath, each calculating in their minds the bottom line the school could offer.

Cheng Ming paused, his gaze becoming deep, as if piercing through the walls of the conference room and looking into the distance.

"I overheard some of the argument between the deans earlier."

"In fact, whether it's music, photography, or media operations, in my view, they are all just means, not ends."

"Although I have gained some fame now, I am very clear that this is just a temporary surge. My foundation is not enough, and my experience is still too shallow..."

At this point, Cheng Ming chuckled self-deprecatingly:

"If I'm in a rush to cash out and debut now, I'll just become a fast-moving consumer good on the capital assembly line. In a year or two, I'll be drained of my value and then thrown into the trash heap...!"

These words were a wake-up call.

Li Baoguo and Liu Jianjun exchanged a glance, both seeing the shock in each other's eyes.

Is this really the kind of insight a college student in his early twenties should have?

To maintain such a clear mind in the face of immense temptations of fame and fortune is simply extraordinary!

........