Reborn as a comedic artist

The narration resumed, and Huang Yuxi's voice carried a hint of suppressed laughter:

"Master Ming is young, but ambitious. Although he's just a down-on-his-luck art student, he dreams of becoming a master craftsman on a construction site, carving out a future with his shovel...!"

As the narration ended, Cheng Ming began to perform the "beating the ashes" act with great effort.

He tried hard to keep up with the pace of his coworkers, but his clumsy movements and profuse sweat betrayed him.

Despite his disheveled state, he kept muttering that classic, profound saying:

"You still need to have dreams. After all, what's the difference between a person without dreams and a salted fish...!"

At this very moment when the "inspirational" atmosphere was at its peak.

Suddenly, a roar full of Sichuan and Chongqing flavor shattered this filter:

"Damn it! Hurry up! The blender's been waiting forever, and you're still bragging here...!"

The camera suddenly shifts.

There was a makeshift worker staring at Cheng Ming, pointing his finger at him and cursing loudly.

The tone was so genuine, the emotions so intense; it wasn't acting at all, he was truly anxious...

This sudden "real-world blow" froze Cheng Ming's confident and eloquent expression on his face.

The scene immediately fell into an inexplicable and enormous awkwardness.

All the "artistic atmosphere" that had just been built shattered into dust in an instant with that shout.

Cheng Ming shrank back, his previous "masterful demeanor" completely gone. He quickly adjusted his posture and sheepishly sped up his sand-shoveling speed, all the while forcing a smile:

"Coming right away, Uncle, I'm coming, I'm coming...!"

……

At noon, the sun was blazing.

There was no shelter on the construction site, only a few broken wooden planks forming a makeshift shady area.

Cheng Ming squatted on the ground, holding a stainless steel basin bigger than his face, filled with rice and several pieces of fatty braised pork.

He wolfed down his food, completely unlike his usual image as the school heartthrob, perfectly illustrating what it means to be good for nothing but eat everything.

Huang Yuxi squatted down opposite him, looking at his ravenous appearance, and couldn't help but continue the interview: "Um... Master Ming, do you usually eat this much...?"

Cheng Ming swallowed a large mouthful of rice and mumbled, "Is it a lot? Not at all! People need food to live; if you skip a meal, you'll get hungry. If you can't even eat your fill, how can you have the energy to do art...!"

Huang Yuxi looked at the half-empty basin, and her lips twitched slightly:

"So you're just eating as much as you earn? No wonder you don't save any money. If you eat less, you can earn more, right? Wouldn't it be better to save up to buy a house and pursue art peacefully...?"

Upon hearing this, Cheng Ming stopped eating.

He slowly raised his head, his eyes revealing a complex emotion that was difficult to describe.

He glanced at the tall building in the distance that was nearing completion, then at his own calloused and muddy hands, and sighed deeply.

"You're right..."

Cheng Ming put down his chopsticks, his tone suddenly becoming heavy, carrying a sense of desolation as if he had seen through the ways of the world: "But even if I starve myself while burning ashes, the money I save can't buy a house and settle down to pursue art..."

"Why?" Huang Yuxi asked cooperatively.

Cheng Ming gave a wry smile and pointed to the ground beneath his feet:

"Because I was involved in its construction, and I'm also the one who can't afford a house and can't pursue art in peace...!"

That sigh struck the air like a heavy hammer.

At this moment, a young coworker walked over; he had been specially brought in by Cheng Ming to play the role.

The young man looked at the camera, his face showing a mixture of childishness and disdain:

"I didn't even finish elementary school, and I'm just a laborer. What's the use of that art student of his? He can't even work as fast as me, and he doesn't earn as much as me...!"

The young man wiped the sweat from his face and then gave a simple, honest smile.

"But it's a good thing for young people to have dreams. As the news said, as long as you work hard, life will get sweeter and sweeter..."

The phrase "life will get sweeter and sweeter" sounds strangely jarring at this moment.

The camera then focused on foreman Lao Liu!

Old Liu was wearing a camouflage uniform so dirty that its original color was unrecognizable. He had a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers, and his face was deeply lined with wrinkles, bearing the marks of time.

Facing the camera, Old Liu exhaled a smoke ring, his eyes cloudy yet revealing a chilling calm:

"I feel like Xiaoming is just bragging. A real art student, after studying for over ten years, is he really just going to work on a construction site mixing mortar...?"

Old Liu shook his head, his tone carrying a hint of elder's "admonition":

"Since you're involved in the construction, then participate properly and stop thinking about all that other stuff. He's overthinking things!"

Old Liu chuckled softly, a laugh tinged with self-deprecation:

"Young people are ignorant and arrogant. Complaining is useless. I have been involved in construction for decades and have handled at least tens of thousands of houses, but none of them are mine... I have not said anything. I have figured it out."

Huang Yuxi subconsciously asked, "Sir, what have you figured out...?"

Old Liu looked up at the blinding sun, squinted, and said in an incredibly sincere yet utterly absurd tone:

"Because I didn't work hard enough, I didn't do my job properly. If I just work hard and don't complain, life will definitely get sweeter and sweeter..."

boom--!

These words were like a silent thunderclap, exploding in everyone's ears.

At this moment, the irony was palpable.

An elderly man who worked his whole life and built tens of thousands of houses but had no place to live concluded that "I didn't work hard enough."

What a distorted form of self-pickup artistry this is, and what a cruel reality it reflects...

Li Feng's hands, which were gripping the machine, were trembling slightly.

Looking at Lao Liu in the camera lens, and at Cheng Ming, the "art student" who was quietly eating his meal on the side, he felt as if something was blocking his throat, making him feel extremely uncomfortable.

Is this what Cheng Ming wrote about as "abstract" in his script?

No, this is too realistic, so realistic it makes me want to cry.

......

However, the heartbreak continues.

The echo of Lao Liu's words, "I didn't work hard enough," hadn't faded yet, and an indescribable bitterness lingered in the air.

Cheng Ming leaned against a shovel, wiped the dust off his face, and faced the camera, his lips curving into a smile that looked more like a grimace than a cry.

"When I tell people I'm an art student, they all think I'm bragging...!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the tangled pile of steel bars around him, and said with a self-deprecating laugh:

"But this is actually a good thing. If they really believed I was an art student, then my more than ten years of studying would be a laughing stock."

The wind blew across the construction site, rustling the cement bags on the ground.

Cheng Ming's voice lowered, as if he were speaking to himself, or perhaps to this messed-up world:

"I can be a joke, but I don't want my years of hard work to become a joke...!"

silence.

An inexplicable silence spread among the three.

Whether it's Huang Yuxi holding the microphone or Li Feng carrying the equipment.

Without Cheng Ming's almost performance art-like "antics," wouldn't these college students who are about to graduate and are hitting walls everywhere with their resumes be another version of a joke?

"Actually, there are two art students on this construction site. They're photography majors, carrying video cameras..."

Cheng Ming suddenly broke the silence, holding up two fingers and waving them. He pointed to a figure carrying cement in the distance, then pointed to the spot where someone had collapsed yesterday, exhausted like a dead dog.

"One was carrying cement, and the other was also carrying cement, but they couldn't hold on any longer yesterday...!"

Cheng Ming hesitated for a moment, then gave a wry smile.

That smile looked particularly jarring against his dusty face, and there were clearly tears welling up in his eyes, but he managed to suppress them with his carefree expression.

........