Huayu: That year, I withdrew from the Super Boy competition.

To participate in the art exam, you must first pass three hurdles.

The first hurdle is the provincial unified examination.

In Sichuan province, where he lives, a unified arts examination is organized every year around December.

Performing arts majors are tested on four aspects: vocal music, diction, physical expression, and acting.

Only by passing the provincial unified examination and obtaining the qualification certificate can one be considered an "art student".

To give an example, it's like needing to buy a ticket to enter an amusement park; without that ticket, you can't do anything else.

Of course, there are a very few exceptionally powerful individuals who don't need to go through this process.

The second stage is the school-based exam.

Every year from January to March, major art colleges organize their own entrance examinations.

The Central Academy of Drama, Beijing Film Academy, and Shanghai Theatre Academy each set their own exam questions and standards.

After registration, there are preliminary tests, retests, and third tests, with each round of screening going down the line.

If you pass the entrance exam, the school will issue a professional qualification certificate, which will say "recommendation to apply" - note that it is "recommendation", not "admission".

Getting the certificate doesn't guarantee a spot; it just means you've made it to the final round.

The third hurdle is the college entrance examination.

After obtaining the certificate, you still need to pass the academic subjects.

The cutoff score for performing arts majors is lower than that for regular undergraduate programs, but lower doesn't mean there's no cutoff.

Every year there are unlucky students who rank among the top in their professional exams but fall short by more than ten points in their academic subjects, and they have nowhere to even cry.

There are three checkpoints, and none of them can be skipped.

Su Wei leaned back in the chair at the internet cafe, staring at the densely packed art exam guides on the screen, with only one thought in her mind.

This is quite a troublesome matter.

He originally thought that the art exam was just a three-step process of "going to the school to register, singing a song, and waiting for the notification", but reality taught him a lesson.

But on second thought, it's normal.

If it were that easy to get into the Central Academy of Drama or Beijing Film Academy, the streets would be full of professionally trained actors.

Su Wei took out a small notebook and a ballpoint pen from her pocket and wrote down the key points she had just seen.

He didn't feel much pressure about it.

After all, it's only July now, and there are still half a year until the provincial unified exam, so there's plenty of time.

He has a good foundation in vocal music, can practice his lines, needs to work on his physical movements, and his acting skills are good enough for now.

As for academic subjects, they're a piece of cake.

During this period, he would occasionally pay attention to the later stages of the "Super Boy" competition.

Without him as a variable, everything is exactly the same as in the previous life.

The champion was Chen Chusheng, the runner-up was Su Xing, the third place was Wei Chen, and the fourth place was Zhang Jie.

On the night of the final, Su Wei watched the live broadcast from her living room at home.

The next day at school, as soon as Fatty Wu saw him, he started talking:

"If you hadn't withdrawn from the competition, the championship might have been yours."

Su Wei didn't respond.

He looked out the window at the playground and thought: Maybe.

Maybe we can fight for it, maybe we can't.

But who can say for sure about these things?

He didn't have time to think about these things.

With only half of summer vacation over, Su Wei had already created a packed schedule for herself.

From Monday to Saturday, I practice vocal music and lines at a training institution in the south of the city in the morning, and rush to the rehearsal hall in the north of the city in the afternoon for physical training and performance classes.

One is in the south and the other in the north, spanning half of Chengdu.

The vocal lessons were held in a small cubicle with an old-fashioned piano and a wall covered with sound-absorbing cotton. The space was so small that it was difficult to even turn around.

The teacher's surname is Zhou, he is in his forties, speaks loudly, and nods his head while playing the piano, swaying his whole body to the rhythm.

"Su Wei, your aura—you need to lower it!"

Dantian, do you understand dantian?

Singing requires emotion; having a good voice alone is useless. You have to make the listeners feel like you're talking to them, not just showing off your skills!

The dialogue class was just reading the script over and over again until my throat was hoarse.

One afternoon, he read the same passage for two whole hours. Towards the end, his tongue got tied and he even started to slur his words.

Physical education classes are even more exhausting.

The teacher had Su Wei do leg presses, back bends, and body exercises. After the first day of practice, her legs were shaking so badly that she had to hold onto the handrail and move down the stairs one step at a time.

Even when I turn over in bed at night, I grimace and grimac, feeling like a robot that has been disassembled and reassembled but the screws weren't tightened properly.

Acting class was his favorite subject.

Impromptu skits and exercises without props: the teacher gives a topic and everyone takes turns doing it.

The teacher's evaluation of Su Wei was simple: "She has a natural talent."

And so it went, leaving early and returning late every day, even more tiring than going to school.

At least when you're in school you sit still, but art exam training involves a whole host of subjects, from voice and stage presence to physical expression, one after another, like a triathlon.

But he didn't feel bitter.

Doing what you love is a completely different thing from being tired or suffering.

Tiredness is physical, but a good night's sleep will make you feel better; suffering is mental, and that's what's truly unbearable.

What he's doing now is tiring, but not bitter.

But what really gave him a headache wasn't the classes, but his homeroom teacher, Feng Tuo.

He was a typical homeroom teacher at a top-tier high school.

All they cared about were scores and rankings; their biggest wish was for more students from their class to get into Tsinghua or Peking University.

Su Wei has always been his prized student.

Ranked in the top ten of his grade, he often gets full marks in math, a potential candidate for Tsinghua or Peking University.

The way Feng Tuo looked at him used to be, "This boy has a bright future, and I am very pleased."

But ever since he learned that Su Wei was going to take the art exam, his eyes changed.

At first, I couldn't believe it.

Feng Tuo called him to his office and asked him three times, "Are you really sure?" Su Wei said he was sure each time.

Feng Tuo's gaze towards him changed to, "This child has gone astray, which is heartbreaking."

Later, when the art class schedule was released, Su Wei would ask for leave every few days, and occasionally she would not hand in her assignments.

Feng Tuo gave up completely.

His gaze towards Su Wei changed from "not daring to look directly at her" to "this child is completely beyond saving," and then to "ignoring her completely."

Every time they bumped into each other in the corridor, Su Wei felt a chill run down her spine whenever Feng Tuo's gaze swept over her. She would quickly lower her head and pretend to be reading the book in her hand.

One evening during self-study, Feng Tuo called him to the corridor.

The September night breeze was already a bit chilly, and there were only the two of them in the corridor.

Feng Tuo leaned against the railing and lit a cigarette.

"Su Wei, let me tell you the truth."

Feng Tuo exhaled a puff of smoke. "With your grades, you can get into a 985 university without any problem if you take the college entrance exam normally, and Tsinghua or Peking University is not out of the question."

I can't stop you from taking the art exam now, and I don't want to forcefully stop you.

But you need to figure that out yourself.

Su Wei stood there without saying a word.

"I only have one request."

Feng Tuo flicked his cigarette ash. "Think it over. Don't look back."

Whatever happens in the future, just don't regret it.

Su Wei raised her head and looked at Feng Tuo.

The teacher's face still held that look of disappointment, but there was a clear hint of seriousness in her eyes.

"Teacher Feng, I've made up my mind."

Su Wei said, "Compared to getting into Tsinghua or Peking University, I prefer singing and performing."

Feng Tuo stared at him for several seconds, then finally sighed and stubbed out his cigarette.

"Alright. Since you put it that way, I won't stop you."

He patted Su Wei on the shoulder, a little too hard.

"But let me tell you, the path of art exams is not easy."

Do you think that being good-looking and being able to sing a couple of songs is enough?

That's far away.

You'll see what cruelty really means when the time comes.

Su Wei nodded.

Feng Tuo turned to leave, then paused, without looking back:

"I hope that one day in the future you won't regret the choice you made today."