Chapter One Hundred and Four: The Founder of Youthful, Free-spirited Literature

Even at the very beginning, there was no need to step onstage and perform anything.

And yet everyone had already begun to tense up.

The reason was simple: what came next would be the judges’ comments on each performer.

It was like a prelude, giving every viewer a clearer sense and impression of the actors present.

So that people would not remember only the stars and performers they liked, while reacting to everyone else with a bewildered, “Who is this?”

Otherwise, it would truly spoil the viewing experience.

Of course, the judges’ assessments also meant another chance to be seen.

The show was extremely popular now, so popular that it could even rival Welcome to My Home for the New Year. Such an opportunity was not to be missed.

And the reason it had reached this point was perhaps the result of quantitative change giving rise to qualitative transformation.

How many entertainers were there in a single episode of Welcome to My Home for the New Year?

Even if some of them were top-tier celebrities, they could at most support thirty or forty million in popularity, or seven or eight million viewers online.

Even that was already data reserved for the very best variety shows.

But this program was one of the rare actor-focused variety shows in the country, something both scarce and fresh.

Add to that the fact that forty or fifty actors had been called in at once; even if some lacked any real following, the combined effect was explosively attention-grabbing.

So its current popularity was entirely understandable.

Of course, being commented on by the judges was hardly an easy thing.

After all, for the sake of fairness, these judges could not keep saying pleasant things forever.

They would also pick a few soft targets to take a swipe at, winning over the audience’s favor on the show.

After all, neither those who sat high above and judged others, nor those who were utterly mediocre and incapable, would be liked by the public.

And those already branded as easy targets inevitably grew a little nervous at such a time.

So when the program officially began, the directors’ chairs suddenly swung around to face all the actors.

Then they picked up the materials in their hands and began to leaf through them.

“Everyone here is an actor, so you should all have some understanding of this profession.”

“Some of you are still active in television and film, while some of you have been away for a long time.”

“...”

At that moment, Director Zhao Zhengang spoke up. He was the oldest and the most senior, so it was only fitting that he should open first.

Afterward, Zhao Zhengang named a few people.

They were all veteran actors, the lingering glow of a bygone era. They had works to their names, but never truly broke out; their fame was not especially loud.

Zhao Zhengang could hardly be said to prize them greatly or feel particularly tender toward them.

He simply described their current situation and let the audience know.

Then, as if giving a speech, he encouraged them a little, ending with a rhetorical, “I have confidence in you—do you have confidence in yourselves?” and a nod of approval.

After that came Director Zhou Xuan.

Zhao Zhengang had made many fine films in the past. Though he no longer led the trend in recent years, he could still be called a towering authority, a man of great standing and power.

But Zhou Xuan was different.

He was one of the newer directors of this era. Though not especially young, many of his ideas were more modern.

So his popularity was not low either.

With Zhao Zhengang having opened the discussion, Zhou Xuan also said a few things and named several actors he quite liked.

By this point, everyone could already see some of the signs.

These directors seemed to be trying to win the actors over.

After all, the participants would later be divided into four directors’ teams and seven or eight groups.

Naturally, the judges and directors also wanted to recruit as many standout, promising actors as possible.

That way, whether in later rehearsals or in the final stage presentation, at the very least it would not give them a headache.

Unfortunately, neither of those two had mentioned Bai Ling.

It seemed they were not impressed by her.

Still, that was understandable.

After all, Bai Ling’s Palace Consort Rise to Power was somewhat unconventional, and it was also an online drama.

Even though it was currently riding a wave of popularity, neither of those two directors had taken a liking to it.

If even Zhou Xuan, who was relatively more in step with the times, was like this, then there was even less need to mention Zhao Zhengang.

Next came Zhuge Tianguang.

“Bai Ling, your popularity has been very high lately. I heard from my nephew that the script for Consort was written by you, and he only handled the adaptation. Is that right?”

Bai Ling, who had been left sitting on the cold bench for a while before finally being called out, instantly brightened.

Her guess was confirmed: Zhuge Ming was indeed related to Zhuge Tianguang.

An uncle-nephew relationship.

At once, Bai Ling stood with a smile and said, “Yes, Teacher Zhuge!”

“Thanks to Zhuge Ming’s adaptation, the script became even more polished.”

Zhuge Tianguang laughed heartily. “Xiaoming said the same thing about you—that your script was very well written.”

“I’ve watched your performances. They’re quite distinctive.”

“Later, join my team. I’ll take you under my wing for filming?”

While the others were still being subtle, Zhuge Tianguang had already started recruiting directly.

The host could not help teasing him. “It seems Bai Ling’s charm has already been radiating uncontrollably. Teacher Zhuge thinks very highly of her.”

“However, Teacher Zhuge, it’s against the rules to start recruiting people now.”

Zhuge Tianguang chuckled. “Fine, fine. I’ve said what I wanted to say anyway, and Bai Ling has heard it.”

Everyone was left feeling helpless. He was clearly being slippery.

Bai Ling smiled and nodded. “Thank you for the praise, Teacher Zhuge!”

After that, Zhuge named a few others as well, all actors he considered rather good.

Last came Wang Dagang.

If the other three directors’ names were, to varying degrees, somewhat plain and folksy, everyone could still understand it, since they were all older. In the era they came from, such names were hardly uncommon.

But Wang Dagang was not that old. He was probably only five or six years older than Bai Ling.

Still, his background was quite rich.

From a young age he had shown considerable talent, then went on to win writing competitions repeatedly, advancing in a brilliant streak before becoming a rather famous young author.

What he wrote most was romance.

Although he was a man, and bore the name Dagang, he had a rather unique insight into love stories.

At one point, he even helped set off a trend known as “youthful, free-spirited literature.”

The heroines in his stories were mostly...

Well, at this point Bai Ling really could not keep making things up.

In her memory, so-called youthful, free-spirited literature was actually more like a fusion of hurt-healing fiction and the ultimate lovestruck obsession.

As long as you believed in love enough, and yearned for it enough, you could pursue your own happiness with complete and utter composure!

That was the nicer way to explain youthful, free-spirited literature, but now it looked more like mindless, clear-eyed stupidity.

So, once she learned that Wang Dagang was the screenwriter of Bright Future, Bai Ling suddenly understood why that script had been so bizarre.