After Being Dumped by the Film Empress, My Acting Skills Soared - Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Splash—

The water ran down as if it cost nothing. The training center’s restroom was cramped, with a single sink taking up most of the space. Even with Jiang Yan’s tall, slender frame, she felt restricted inside.

Droplets of water slid down her cheeks back into the white porcelain basin. Jiang Yan looked at her reflection in the mirror, her mind a chaotic mess. Too many voices were speaking in her ear and in her head, desperate to break down every word, every phrase, and every nuance Shao Niannian had uttered for analysis.

They were trying to find the “optimal solution.”

“It’s not like you haven’t dated before. There are so many people who say they like you—is it really necessary to fall into a crisis over one sentence from her?”

“Her expression was so serious; her words were so sincere. Didn’t she give you a little note? Isn’t the answer on that paper? Instead of overthinking here, why don’t we just open the note and look?”

Jiang Yan leaned against the door, pulled a few paper towels to dry her hands, and then wiped her face twice. Finally, she reached into her jacket pocket for the piece of paper Niannian had handed her.

Taking several deep breaths, Jiang Yan—who had never been nervous on the grandest of stages—was now hiding in a bathroom, afraid to step out, and even more afraid to pull out a scrap of paper.

“What am I doing?” she muttered, patting her cheeks in frustration. She cleared her throat, reached into her pocket, and pulled the note out without further hesitation.

Spread flat, the paper held only a simple string of numbers.

Jiang Yan pulled the corresponding data from her vast library of memories. Those were her art exam results: 1st place in the National Film Academy’s performance major, a Gaokao (National College Entrance Exam) score in the 500s… Shao Niannian had written down the exact sequence of numbers, including Jiang Yan’s city-wide ranking.

The Gaokao hadn’t been a life-altering watershed for Jiang Yan. Her family background meant she didn’t need it as a springboard. For children of her family, the exam was more of a tool to maximize family resources by choosing a specific career path. Those memories were distant; Jiang Yan had chosen the National Film Academy because she had already earned fame and money on that path—the degree was merely a “garnish” to refine her skills systematically.

She never imagined that a casual decision she made would be remembered by someone for so long—so long that even her own memories of that time had become blurred.

Jiang Yan’s breathing grew rapid. She frantically folded the paper over and over again, stuffing it back into her pocket as if she had never seen it. As her hand rested on the door handle, she heard Niannian’s voice again: “I have never been lost.”

So, on her forward path, had every single thing she had done become a guiding light for someone else in a stage of life she couldn’t speak of?

Jiang Yan didn’t dare think further.

Being a teaching assistant was no easy feat. When the teacher introduced Shao Niannian to the 10th-grade interest class, the room exploded with thunderous applause and gasps of shock.

“Teacher, you can go now! Just leave the Senior Sister here with us!” “Senior Sister, sign this for me! Ahhh, I’m seeing the real Yaoyao! Senior Sister, I loved your Nanmian Diary, no heroine is cuter than Yaoyao!” “She’s actually Teacher’s student? I thought the enrollment brochure was Photoshopped…”

The teacher calmly clapped for order. The room fell silent instantly. “Good. Now stay quiet. Your Senior Sister is filming a show. If you can’t keep your composure, don’t blame your future art exam judges for making you act out this exact scene as an improv exercise.”

A girl in a high school uniform on the left widened her eyes and quickly spat to ward off bad luck. “Teacher, take those crow-words back! Don’t say such things!”

“Trust in science,” the teacher rolled her eyes. “Since you’re only in 10th grade, you’re mostly training basic skills and perception. Your Senior Sister has more experience here; her basics are solid, and she’s been through the ups and downs of film sets for years. She’s a perfect assistant.”

“If there are no objections, she’ll be leading the class for the next two weeks. I’ll be the ‘vice’ teacher checking in. Any problems?”

“NONE!” the students shouted in unison.

Only Shao Niannian, standing to the side, suddenly raised her hand. “I HAVE ONE!”

“This workload isn’t an ‘assistant’ job anymore, is it? This is a lead teacher role. I’m only earning 20 yuan an hour—is that reasonable?”

The teacher glanced over. “Why isn’t it? Do you have experience in this specific field? A teaching certificate? A degree in education?”

Niannian: “…?”

“None? Then what’s wrong with starting as an assistant?”

Niannian: “…” You have a point, but why do I feel like I’m being scammed? I’m not making a profit at all!

As Niannian prepared to argue further, she caught sight of Jiang Yan at the door. She waved her over. “Why are you standing out there? Come here and settle this! Why am I doing the teacher’s work for an assistant’s pay?”

Jiang Yan walked in with a smile, greeting the students first before standing on the podium to shield the pouting Niannian. She whispered something to the teacher.

The teacher laughed and nodded. “Sure, the schedule is fixed. You both went to university; with one more person here, I’m even more at ease.”

Niannian, possessing sharp ears, stood on her tiptoes to peek over Jiang Yan’s shoulder. She stared at the teacher solemnly. “Are you talking bad about me behind my back?”

The teacher reached out and pushed her head back down, turning back to Jiang Yan. “How can it be ‘behind your back’ when I’m doing it right in front of you?”

Niannian was fuming. She shouldn’t have come. She had known what kind of personality this person had since high school—why didn’t she ever learn?

Jiang Yan chuckled, protecting Niannian by stepping back to create distance from the teacher. “If there are no problems, let’s start the class. If you’re worried, Teacher, you can watch us from the classroom.”

“No need. Why would I need to watch a Triple-Crown Best Actress? I have other things to handle today. Get along well—and if these brats don’t listen, tell me. I’ll teach them a lesson.”

The two classes flew by. Niannian realized that being a “teacher” was hard regardless of the industry. Once she dove in, she realized how unpredictable “students” were. Regardless of how well-behaved they were, they were individuals first, not “economic units” or “educational vessels.” They had their own thoughts and would interfere with the lesson in various ways. Their logic jumped so fast that if she wasn’t careful, the whole class would be derailed—even with 10th graders.

When the last group of kids was picked up after the practical session, Niannian was too exhausted for words. Forgetting she was on a show, she covered her eyes with her arm to block out the harsh lights, curled up on a soft foam mat, and fell asleep instantly.

Staying awake for one more second would have been a disrespect to her hard work.

The parents had initially been slightly displeased about the teacher change and came to pick up their kids intending to complain. When they arrived and saw Jiang Yan, their minds went so blank they could only manage polite pleasantries.

Once in the car, a parent finally processed it. “The ‘new teacher’ you mentioned today… is a Triple-Crown Best Actress?”

The child was frantically bragging to friends about the signature they got, acting like the leader of a “praise” fan club. “Yeah! Movie Queen Jiang never gets angry, and Senior Sister Shao is so responsible!”

The parent gripped the steering wheel, thinking of the angry words they had prepared, feeling as if they had swallowed a thousand needles. The educational value of this class far exceeded the tuition fee! She felt guilty for complaining the whole way there.

Looking at the mirror at her smiling child, her face darkened. “It’s all the kid’s fault for giving bad intel. A good scolding should fix it!”

Jiang Yan signed the last card and saw the teacher standing behind her.

“I didn’t expect you to do so well on your first day.” The teacher smiled, waving her phone. “Today’s wages have been sent. Check them.”

“Sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s fine,” the teacher paused, smiling. “The chemistry between you two is more natural than I imagined. I was worried when I saw the rumors, but seeing you in person, I believe that saying.”

“What saying?” Jiang Yan asked curiously.

“That there is always someone in the world perfectly suited to your life. Some like to keep switching to find them; others like to stand still and wait. No method is ‘correct’; everyone is just learning how to love in a state of exploration and ignorance.”

The teacher suddenly remembered something and handed a red envelope (hongbao) to Jiang Yan. “Actually, Niannian was my first real student. From recruitment to the art exams to graduation, she’s a student I can’t erase from my career. Consider this a small token from me as her teacher.”

Jiang Yan tried to refuse, but she was no match for a teacher with 35 years of “refusal-fighting” experience. She took the envelope and went to find Niannian.

The cameraman stood up as she entered, pointing to the girl on the floor. “She’s been out for a while.”

“Thanks.” Jiang Yan frowned slightly, tucked the red envelope into her pocket, and crouched beside Niannian. She nudged her several times, but Niannian only twitched an eyelid without waking.

Jiang Yan wasn’t in a hurry. She borrowed the teacher’s nap blanket, promised to lock up, and even brought a chair for the cameraman so he could sit while filming.

Then, in front of the entire live-stream audience, Jiang Yan lay down right there on the floor and fell asleep next to Niannian. The small blanket draped across their middles became the link between them.

The lights were dimmed. The screen took on a quiet, sleepy atmosphere. Viewers found their own eyelids feeling heavy.

—“This is incredible. First time seeing a dating show where they just… broadcast a nap to millions of people.”

—“What’s more magical than them being together is this weird pull between them. It’s not ‘sugar-sweet,’ it’s more of a ‘I know this is silly, but I’ll do it with you’ vibe. Just for my sake, please get married.”

—“The vibe is weird. It’s not traditional ‘romance,’ but it’s not ‘business’ either. I get Niannian; she’s never had a scandal. But Jiang Yan? You’ve had enough ex-girlfriends to fill ten mahjong tables! Why are you blushing like a schoolgirl?!”

—“Jiang Yan looks… lost? I’m starting to wonder if all her past scandals were fake…”

Niannian rolled over in her sleep, restlessly tucking herself into Jiang Yan’s arms. Despite the constant 26°C temperature, the thin clothes made her feel cold. The person in a daze simply followed her instincts, pulling the girl closer and patting her back to soothe her.

Jiang Yan’s movements were practiced and natural. In her half-conscious state, she knew exactly who was in her arms. She couldn’t judge why she was doing it.

Perhaps, she felt, it was simply what she was supposed to do.