Seeking good fortune and avoiding misfortune, I became a legend in the entertainment industry by avo

Chapter 183 The Beijing People's Art Theatre's New Year's Drama Arrangements

Zhang Qilin walked over and sat down in the chair.

The way he sat down, and the habit of tilting his head slightly when looking at Zhang Yimou, all carried the characteristics of a soldier.

But they are not entirely soldiers.

More accurately, he is a living, breathing person.

A person who has struggled on the edge of the limit.

"Do you know what I was thinking just now?" he asked.

Zhang Qilin shook his head.

Zhang Yi stared at him for a few seconds.

"Reverence."

Zhang Qilin was stunned for a moment.

Zhang Yi looked into Zhang Qilin's eyes and said, "What I admire is the spirit you carry, the spirit left behind by those who have truly experienced war. You are merely a vessel that has brought it to me."

The office fell silent.

Zhang Yi leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and looked Zhang Qilin over again.

This time, his gaze was no longer scrutinizing, but rather the look a director gives to an actor.

That gaze held both admiration and anticipation.

A moment later, he took a folder out of the drawer and pushed it in front of Zhang Qilin.

"This is the filming schedule for 'The Flowers of War.' Take it back and take a look. Filming starts on the 15th of this month. You'll need to join the crew three days in advance."

Zhang Qilin took the folder.

"Understood."

"Hmm," Zhang Yi leaned back in his chair, looking at him, "Do you know why I sent you to the army?"

Zhang Qilin thought for a moment: "You want me to understand Instructor Li."

"Not entirely," Zhang Yimou said. "Instructor Li's scenes are few, maybe only a dozen minutes in total, but those dozen minutes are the backbone of the entire movie."

He looked at Zhang Qilin and said, "Your performance just now makes me believe you can do it."

Unlike Zhang Li, Zhang Yi did not bring in reporters to promote Zhang Qilin. The two chatted for a while, had a meal together, and then ended the meeting.

That evening, Zhang Qilin returned to the small courtyard where he lived.

No one had lived there for two months, and a thin layer of dust had settled in the yard, with some withered branches and leaves blown by the wind piled up in the corner.

The winter wind whistled through the yard, adding to the chill.

He opened the door, and a musty smell hit him.

The furniture inside was covered in a layer of dust, and looked somewhat forlorn under the dim light.

Zhang Qilin put down his luggage and began cleaning the room.

After cleaning the room, Zhang Qilin took a shower and went to bed to rest.

5:00 a.m. the next day

-

Zhang Qilin got up, washed up, put on a thick down jacket, and went out.

He hasn't been back to the Beijing People's Art Theatre for a long time. He should take advantage of the remaining ten-plus days of rest to go back and visit the theatre.

Otherwise, he was afraid that the Beijing People's Art Theatre would cancel the program.

Zhang Qilin locked the door and walked along the alley toward the Beijing People's Art Theatre.

At this time of day, there weren't many people in the alley.

The breakfast stall had just been set up, and puffs of white steam rose into the sky from the steamer. The old man selling tofu pudding was ladling braising liquid into a bowl when he saw Zhang Qilin pass by and glanced at him a few more times.

"Hey, it's been a while."

"I went on a long trip," Zhang Qilin stopped, bought a bowl of tofu pudding and two fried dough sticks, and squatted on a small stool by the roadside to eat.

The piping hot tofu pudding slid down my throat, warming my entire body.

He suddenly realized that this was what it felt like to be alive.

When I was in the military, eating was a mission, and the battle was over in three minutes.

Now, sitting in the cold wind and slowly eating breakfast feels like an unreal luxury.

After finishing his meal, Zhang Qilin arrived at the main entrance of the Beijing People's Art Theatre.

Kyoto People's Art Theatre.

The large characters, bathed in the winter morning light, resembled a stern and unsmiling elder.

Zhang Qilin walked into the theater. The door to the rehearsal hall was ajar, and warm yellow light shone from inside.

He pushed open the door and saw a thin figure mopping the floor.

Hearing the noise, Feng Yuanzheng looked up and saw Zhang Qilin entering.

He paused for a moment, then said, "What are you standing there for? Go clean up."

Zhang Qilin chuckled and ran over to take the mop from Feng Yuanzheng's hand: "Teacher Feng, how can I let you do such tiring work? You rest, I'll do it."

As he spoke, he skillfully began mopping the floor.

Feng Yuanzheng watched Zhang Qilin's retreating figure with a look of satisfaction in his eyes, but deliberately said, "After you finish the work, I'll check if you've fallen behind in your basic skills."

"Alright~ Please go ahead," Zhang Qilin said with a smile.

The familiar scene and familiar words seemed to instantly pull him back to his days at the Beijing People's Art Theatre.

Feng Yuanzheng walked to the window, picked up a cup, and started drinking water.

A few minutes later, the door to the rehearsal hall was pushed open again, and Li Wei walked in carrying soy milk.

She greeted Feng Yuanzheng first: "Good morning, Teacher Feng."

Upon recognizing Zhang Qilin as the person mopping the floor, he immediately placed the soy milk in the corner.

She ran to Zhang Qilin's side: "Brother Lin, let me mop the floor—"

Zhang Qilin said with a smile, "No need, go wipe the mirror, let's do a thorough cleaning today."

Li Wei nodded, went to get a rag, and began wiping the mirrors in the rehearsal hall.

Gradually, all the interns arrived.

Seeing Zhang Qilin mopping the floor, everyone else started looking for work to do.

Song Yi, who arrived a little late, could only wipe the chairs where everyone was sitting.

After mopping the floor, Zhang Qilin went to the window to sing.

Feng Yuanzheng walked over to Zhang Qilin with a water glass in his hand.

After Zhang Qilin finished his warm-up, Feng Yuanzheng asked, "Do you have any plans for March?"

Zhang Qilin was taken aback, thought for a moment, and replied, "Teacher Feng, filming for 'The Flowers of War' starts on the 15th, and the shooting period is estimated to last for quite some time. I'm not entirely sure when it will end. What's wrong? Is there something you need?"

Feng Yuanzheng said, "The Teahouse performance will be held in late March. This is the most important day of the year for the Beijing People's Art Theatre. For your future development, I have applied for a role with a few lines for you. You don't have to come to the rehearsal, but you have to be present during the performance."

"Teahouse" is a classic play by the Beijing People's Art Theatre and is performed every year.

Each performance is like a grand gathering of outstanding actors from the Beijing People's Art Theatre.

Zhang Qilin nodded and said, "Don't worry, Teacher Feng, I will definitely be able to attend the performance."

Feng Yuanzheng continued, "During the break, go to the actors' troupe and get this year's performance schedule. Arrange your time early to avoid scheduling conflicts. The Beijing People's Art Theatre doesn't prevent actors from going out to film, but the performances of the Beijing People's Art Theatre should take precedence."

"They've already scheduled a year's worth of dramas before the New Year even starts?" Zhang Qilin asked, somewhat surprised.

Based on his understanding of the system, New Year's plans should not be made until after the New Year.

Feng Yuanzheng said with a smile, "The Beijing People's Art Theatre is different from other organizations. The actors all have their own things to do. Arranging the performances in advance will allow them to free up their schedules."

"I understand. I'll head to the performance troupe in a bit." Zhang Qilin suddenly remembered something. "Teacher Feng, if I can put on a play at the academy, would that count as part of this year's quota?"

Feng Yuanzheng looked at Zhang Qilin with some surprise: "You want to start a TV series?"

Zhang Qilin scratched his head: "Didn't the academy give me a 300 million yuan support fund? I put together a script with some people and plan to make a play."

Feng Yuanzheng asked curiously, "What type is it?"

Zhang Qilin introduced: "It is a historical drama about Qin Liangyu. Qin Liangyu spent her life in the military and made great contributions to the country and the nation. I think her story is particularly valuable and deserves to be brought to the stage."

Feng Yuanzheng pondered for a moment and nodded: "Qin Liangyu's story is indeed full of legendary color. If such a story were presented on stage, it would definitely be very interesting. However, 300 million is not enough for such a historical drama. The theater's other plans are all full. We need to apply for additional funding at the last minute."

Zhang Qilin smiled and said, "Don't worry about funding. Some people will bring their own investment to the production. It's just that their acting skills are a bit lacking. The teachers will need to put in a lot of effort to train them."

Feng Yuanzheng frowned: "You know how high the requirements are for actors on the stage. Poor acting skills can affect the quality of the whole play." Zhang Qilin confidently said: "Teacher Feng, although the investor's acting skills are still immature, she has talent and is passionate about acting. She is also willing to spend time learning and honing her skills. I think that with so many excellent seniors at our People's Art Theatre, we can definitely teach her a lot."

Feng Yuanzheng, still uneasy, asked, "How old is that actor you mentioned? Young actors these days are all arrogant and won't listen to advice. Don't let him waste everyone's time—"

Zhang Qilin said confidently, "Don't worry, she will definitely listen to advice."

I was thinking to myself, if I don't listen to advice, I'll get yelled at to death.

Seeing Zhang Qilin's confident assertion, Feng Yuanzheng nodded: "Then let's talk about the script sometime."

"Okay, I'll try to coordinate the time as soon as possible," Zhang Qilin nodded and said.

After the two had finished their conversation, Feng Yuanzheng gathered everyone to begin the morning class.

During the morning class, Feng Yuanzheng checked Zhang Qilin's basic skills in delivering lines.

After checking, Feng Yuanzheng showed a relieved expression and turned to the other interns: "See that? That's what you call lines."

His voice wasn't loud, but every intern present could hear it clearly.

"You should all learn from Zhang Qilin. He hasn't been here for two months, but he hasn't lost any of his basic skills," Feng Yuanzheng said earnestly. "In the acting industry, if you don't move forward, you fall behind. Don't think that just because you've built a solid foundation, you can abandon it—"

Zhang Qilin listened to Feng Yuanzheng's words and then turned to look at the other interns.

Seeing that most people were looking down, it seems that these people have indeed become somewhat lax recently.

I'll ask Li Wei what's going on later.

As soon as the class ended, before Zhang Qilin could even ask Li Wei what had happened, Song Yi was already standing in front of him.

She asked, somewhat embarrassed, "Could you tell me how you practice your lines?"

Zhang Qi said, "I practice my lines for five hours a day."

Song Yi looked surprised: "After so long, your throat—"

"Of course, it should be practiced in the morning and evening," Zhang Qilin shared the method with Song Yi.

Song Yi listened attentively, nodding occasionally, her eyes filled with a thirst for knowledge.

After Zhang Qilin finished speaking, she said gratefully, "Thank you so much. What you said has been a great help to me."

Zhang Qilin responded with a smile: "It's okay, we all help each other out. As long as you're willing to put in the effort, you'll definitely be able to master the lines."

Then he asked, "What did Teacher Feng mean by what she said in class just now?"

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