Reborn as a comedic artist

The next day, at six o'clock in the morning.

The horizon was just beginning to lighten, and the entire city was still shrouded in a thin layer of bluish-gray morning mist.

The streets were deserted. Apart from the occasional taxi passing by, the only sounds were the "swish" of sanitation workers' brooms sweeping the ground, monotonous and regular, like the breathing of the city as it slept.

Wang Shuo is currently resting and recuperating in his studio.

Meanwhile, Cheng Ming was already fully prepared and ready to go.

Today's scene doesn't require as many people; it focuses on an "immersive" experience, and tests the subtlety of acting skills and the conviction to talk nonsense with a straight face.

So the only people on site were Li Feng, who was carrying the machine, and Huang Yuxi, the counselor whose major was relevant to the job, who was pulled in after a round of screening to do manual labor and part-time narration.

"Cheng Ming, why did you have to pull this stunt so early in the morning...?"

Huang Yuxi held a few crumpled sheets of printed script paper in her hand, yawning, her usually bright eyes now looking somewhat dazed.

She still wore her usual simple outfit, but couldn't hide her慵懒 (yōnglǎn, meaning lazy or languid) and 君姐 (jūnjiě, meaning mature and sophisticated) vibe.

"Advisor, this is what you call the sacrifice of art."

Cheng Ming was giving a final "aging treatment" to a broken bicycle by the roadside—which was basically just smearing more dust on it.

He was dressed exceptionally "plain" today, wearing the same vest as Wang Shuo, camouflage pants, and yellow rubber shoes. His hair was also messy, making him look like a down-on-his-luck young man who had just been beaten down by society.

But it was this simple outfit that instantly energized Huang Yuxi.

I usually only pay attention to my appearance and neglect my figure!

Now it seems this guy is truly slim when dressed, but muscular when undressed.

Having missed the chance to fully appreciate it last time, I couldn't resist taking advantage of the opportunity and instinctively pinched Cheng Ming's arm twice.

Unfortunately, he was met with disdain from the latter.

"Alright, everyone to your positions. Li Feng, are the cameras set up?"

"OK, we can start filming anytime." Li Feng made a gesture, and the camera was already pointed at the dilapidated-looking bicycle.

"Action!"

With a low shout from Cheng Ming,

The innocent naiveté that originally belonged to college students vanished instantly, replaced by a numbness and helplessness born of experience, with a deathly stillness in their eyes that seemed to have "seen through the world's illusions."

Huang Yuxi took a deep breath, adjusted her demeanor, and instantly switched from her slightly magnetic Northeastern accent to the deep, story-filled voice used in CCTV documentaries:

"Around six in the morning, just as dawn was breaking...!"

In the shot, Cheng Ming straddles the dilapidated bicycle.

"Master Ming, who had just turned eighteen a few years ago, began his busy day on his energy-efficient and environmentally friendly vehicle...!"

As Huang Yuxi's contrasting narration ended, Cheng Ming pushed off with both feet.

"Squeak—"

The bicycle let out a tooth-grinding groan and began to move erratically.

Cheng Ming hunched over, his legs pedaling mechanically, his figure appearing particularly thin on the empty street.

The morning breeze ruffled his hair. This scene, unlike Wang Shuo's hysterical outburst yesterday, exuded a subtle and poignant sadness.

It was as if he wasn't acting, but truly wriggling humbly in the cracks of this city, struggling to make ends meet for a few dollars.

The camera zooms out, capturing his wobbly figure as he rides his bicycle through the morning mist until he disappears around the street corner.

……

Three hours later.

The location changed to that familiar construction site.

Dust filled the air, the roar of the mixers was deafening, and the air was thick with the mixed smell of cement and sweat.

Cheng Ming has seamlessly integrated into this world of steel and cement.

At this moment, he was holding a shovel and standing in front of a pile of sand and gravel.

To fit the character, his movements appeared somewhat clumsy, even carrying a deliberate air of "elegance."

Others shovel sand using their waist and abdominal strength in one smooth motion, but he uses his wrists to generate power. His posture doesn't look like he's doing manual labor; it looks more like he's swinging a golf club.

"In this era where liberal arts are everywhere, art is worthless, and graduation means unemployment...!"

Huang Yuxi, holding a microphone (which was actually just a plastic tube tied with black tape), stood off-camera, her voice carrying a hint of mockery and pity:

"Master Ming, whose ideals were finally crushed by reality, listened to his friend's advice and resolutely abandoned his studies to join the army... oh no, I mean to go to the construction site to participate in production and construction....!"

Li Feng's camera steadily zoomed in, capturing every micro-expression on Cheng Ming's face.

Cheng Ming picked up a shovel, scooped up a shovelful of sand, but used too much force and spilled half of it onto his shoes.

He paused for a moment, a hint of embarrassment flashing across his face, but he quickly regained his incongruous elegance.

At this moment, Huang Yuxi, acting as a "war correspondent," opportunely shoved the microphone to Cheng Ming's mouth:

"Excuse me, Mr. Ming, as far as I know, you're a proper art student who graduated from a prestigious art academy. What made you decide to work on a construction site? What happened to your path to becoming an art master? What happened to your dreams...?"

This question is sharp and direct, hitting right where contemporary college students hurt.

Cheng Ming stopped what he was doing, gripped the shovel, and took a deep breath.

Upon being asked this question, a hint of shame seemed to flash across his dusty face, and his old face flushed slightly.

But he quickly adjusted his posture, even straightening his wrinkled vest, his eyes becoming deep, and began his "abstract sophistry":

"Well... reporter, that's too simplistic of you..."

Cheng Ming cleared his throat and said in a serious tone:

"Art originates from life. What I'm doing now isn't just doing work; it's accumulating artistic material...!" The terms "master artist" and "master craftsman" both have the word "master" in them; the nature of the two is essentially the same!

Huang Yuxi scratched her head, her face showing an expression of "I don't understand, but I'm very shocked":

"That makes some sense...!"

"That makes perfect sense!"

Cheng Ming got excited and brandished the shovel in his hand as if it were his baton:

"As the saying goes, all roads lead to Rome. Some are born in Rome, while others are born to be beasts of burden. Since I can't be a Roman, I'll be a beast of burden in building Rome...!"

He paused, pointed to the surrounding reinforced concrete, and said in an impassioned tone:

"And although this construction site is tiring to work on and looks dirty, the money you get in your hands is gleaming, and under the sun it's 'warm and cozy,' isn't it?"

At this point, a perfectly timed hint of "wisdom" flashed in Cheng Ming's eyes: "My dream used to be to become an art master, admired by thousands...!"

"My dream now is to become a master craftsman and earn a living with my own hands..."

But I have a question. Look at those guys who didn't even finish junior high, they've worked for over ten years and become master craftsmen, earning several hundred yuan a day. And I've studied art for over ten years, why am I only a laborer, earning just over a hundred yuan...?

This twisted logic, coupled with his righteous and awe-inspiring face, made people laugh, but at the same time, they felt that something was not right, as if they had been pricked by a needle in their hearts.

……