Reborn as a comedic artist

Chapter 94 Demonic Brainwashing, Three-Way Situation

Chen Yao laughed until tears streamed down her face.

She watched it three times, and finally her fingertip rested on Cheng Ming's handsome face on the screen, which was covered in black powder but still couldn't hide.

His eyes gradually became unfocused, even carrying a hint of barely suppressed heat.

This man.

He always manages to shatter all her reserve and defenses in these unexpected ways.

This talent, this imagination, this unbridled wildness—

"No!"

Chen Yao sat up abruptly and slammed the wine glass down on the bedside table.

She picked up her phone and dialed a number.

"Sister Chen? It's the middle of the night—" came the sleepy voice of the assistant on the other end of the phone.

"Book me the earliest flight to Chengdu."

Although Chen Yao's voice still carried a hint of laughter, it also revealed an undeniable urgency and domineering tone: "Cancel all the schedules for the next two days. If you can't cancel them, postpone them."

"Oh? But there's another one from the station tomorrow—"

I said I'd cancel it.

Chen Yao stood up, walked to the French windows, looked at the Shanghai night view outside, and her eyes sparkled with a strong longing: "I'm very angry right now, I need to go to Chengdu to cool down."

After hanging up the phone, Chen Yao took a deep breath, a playful smile appearing on her lips.

The next morning.

As the first rays of sunlight touched the earth, the entire online world was already thoroughly infused with the rich aroma of curry.

The top trending topic on Weibo: #ChengMing'sNewFilmDrivingSchoolStorm#

Second trending topic: #Searching for the most miserable coach#

Third on the trending topics list: #Zhao Nvxia's Mysterious Confidence#

Even the term "Indian camera movement" was pushed into the top ten.

On major short video platforms, countless bloggers began to follow suit and imitate.

Suddenly, the entire internet was filled with people shaking their heads and singing "You drove away 8 coaches" as jokesters.

As Cheng Ming's strongest supporter, the official account of Rongcheng Shuyin was flooded with comments.

Shuyin, Principal's Office.

Zhao Zhiqiang had already circled the office eight hundred times, and the thermos cup filled with goji berries in his hand was so shaken that it left afterimages.

Putting aside the comments, Cheng Ming's recent series of bizarre actions have made the enrollment rate of Shuyin (Shuyin Conservatory of Music) question his very existence.

"This data—is it really not inflated?"

The admissions director opposite him had huge dark circles under his eyes, but his face was filled with an almost manic excitement.

"Principal, I've checked it three times! Our school's official website almost crashed last night! The backend data shows that this year's application rate is more than double that of last year!"

The photography and music departments are especially in an uproar! Their admission scores will likely rise by at least thirty points!

If only we had a performing arts department...

"Thirty points —"

Zhao Zhiqiang slapped his thigh hard, the slap was so hard that he grimaced in pain, but he couldn't suppress the smile on his lips.

"Good! Good indeed! This Cheng Ming is truly cunning! In just one month... he's made our Shuyin's reputation resound throughout the land!"

With his hands behind his back, he walked briskly like a twenty-year-old young man to the wall covered with certificates of honor, as if he could see the bright and glorious future of Sichuan Music.

"What's the reaction from the Chinese and Mandarin music conservatories?"

The admissions director chuckled, his expression as sly as could be.

"I heard the admissions offices at the Central Conservatory of Music and the National Conservatory of Music have been bombarded with calls!"

"However, all of them are asking if they can transfer to our Sichuan Conservatory of Music! Especially those promising students who were originally undecided, after seeing Cheng Ming's series of actions, they are crying and begging to become Cheng Ming's juniors."

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Zhao Zhiqiang laughed loudly, the sound so loud it made the office windows rattle.

How many years has it been? How many years!

In the hierarchy of art schools, the second-rate Sichuan Conservatory of Music is so prestigious that even the top-tier schools can kick it around for no reason, let alone the two big mountains.

But now!

Because of Cheng Ming, the popularity of Shuyin is so great that even top comprehensive universities like Tsinghua and Peking University have to temporarily avoid its brilliance.

"The photography department lacks sufficient resources —"

Zhao Zhiqiang stroked his chin, his eyes gleaming with a sharp light—the charisma of an educator, and the decisiveness of someone in a position of power.

"Then expand! Clear out that old administration building next door and use it entirely as a training base for the photography department! If we don't have enough equipment, we'll buy it; if we don't have enough teachers, we'll poach them! The same goes for the music academy, and as for that performing arts department—"

Zhao Zhiqiang paused, seemingly weighing the pros and cons, and tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

4

"Get the 'Cheng Ming Special Performance Class' thing sorted out as soon as possible. Urgently recruit two retired professors from film schools!"

"Anyway, this kid is now an all-rounder, and with Wang Shuo assisting him, plus him being an honorary lecturer, won't students be fighting tooth and nail for him?"

The admissions director gave a thumbs up: "This tactic of 'using a hen to lay eggs'—no, it's more like 'building a nest to attract phoenixes'—is truly brilliant!"

Ancient city, Culture and Tourism Bureau.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was somewhat heavy and eerie.

On the projector, Cheng Ming's mesmerizing driving school video was playing on a loop.

A group of middle-aged leaders, dressed in white shirts and with receding hairlines, sat together, their expressions quite interesting.

Diverse and varied.

Some were trying to hold back their laughter, their faces turning red and their necks bulging.

Some of them frowned, seemingly pondering the deeper logic behind this "aesthetic of ugliness" culture.

Meanwhile, the bureau chief, seated at the head of the table, tapped his fingers lightly on the surface, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

"Chief, isn't this style a bit... a bit too much?"

A young staff member cautiously spoke up, "Our ancient city is the capital of thirteen dynasties, steeped in history and culture. Wouldn't having this quirky internet celebrity promote it lower our prestige?"

"style?"

The bureau chief snorted coldly, his gaze sweeping across the room: "Your so-called style is just making those promotional videos that only we watch? Or those image films that cost millions but got less than ten thousand views?"

The crowd was speechless.

indeed.

In recent years, I've watched neighboring cities become popular one by one.

This land of theirs, despite its rich history and authentic local customs, seems out of place in the internet age, with dismal traffic.

Are we poor?

The ancient city, taken out of context, is the most formidable presence in the entire Northwest.

But looking at the national picture, it's somewhat disappointing.

It's urgent!

The director pointed at Cheng Ming, who was swaying wildly on the screen, and said in a strong voice, "Look at this young man! Although the situation is absurd, what has he grasped? He has grasped emotions! He has grasped the pain points! He has captured the attention of young people!"

"That's called being down-to-earth! That's called vitality!"

The old director slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups rattle: "Isn't our Qinbei waist drum wild? Isn't our Qinqiang opera roaring? Aren't the stories of this yellow earth more magical than this driving school?"

"That's exactly the kind of ability we need to revitalize stagnant waters!"

He stood up, his gaze sharp, and issued a firm order: "Please urge Cheng Ming to embark on his journey as soon as possible...! If needed, I'll find someone to cooperate, not just from our Culture and Tourism Bureau, but even from the provincial department!"

"I don't ask for anything fancy, I just want him to bring this kind of brainwashing curry flavor to our yellow earth—oh no, I mean the flavor of yellow earth!"