Huayu: I really am a genuine top star.

Chapter 116 A Crowd of People, A Chaotic Dance of Demons

Shen Li couldn't hold back any longer and let out a soft "pfft".

The boy turned around abruptly upon hearing the noise, shuddering as if he'd been electrocuted, his glasses nearly slipping off his nose.

He stared wide-eyed at Shen Li with a wary expression, holding the small shovel in front of his chest as if he were holding a peerless divine weapon.

Shen Li knew she had been discovered, so she stopped pretending and walked over confidently, putting on her signature harmless smile and speaking with a hint of genuine admiration:

"Dude, don't be nervous! I'm just passing by. Your ceremony is quite... quite comprehensive. Stanislavskian experientialism, Brecht's alienationism, plus the administrative approach from the academic affairs office—three major schools all mixed together, combining theory and practice, managing both academics and administration. What do you call that? You call it a 'united front,' 'casting a wide net and targeting key catches,' 'not putting all your eggs in one basket.' That's impressive!"

The boy was a little confused by Shen Li's rambling. He blinked, making sure Shen Li wasn't mocking him, before awkwardly putting down the small shovel and scratching his head.

"I...I have no choice. I have an acting theory exam tomorrow, and I've been so focused on rehearsing my skit this semester that my theory books are practically brand new...I always confuse Stanislavski and Brecht. One says 'an actor must become the character,' while the other says 'an actor must maintain distance from the character.' Am I supposed to become the character or maintain distance? Isn't this a form of schizophrenia?"

Shen Li nodded, her face filled with a sorrowful "I understand you" expression. She squatted down, picked up the small shovel, poked it at the edge of the pit, and said earnestly:

"Dude, your confusion is on a philosophical level. But I think there's something wrong with your distribution of the offerings."

The boy was taken aback: "What's the problem?"

Shen Li pointed at the bag of spicy strips: "Brecht, a German. A German eating spicy strips? You're not just bribing your ancestor, you're murdering him! How can his stomach handle it? Later in the exam hall, if old Brecht is in the toilet, who's going to protect your alienation efforts?"

The boy's expression changed drastically: "Then...what should we change it to?"

Shen Li thought for a moment, then took out a lollipop from his pocket… These were customer gifts he'd collected while working as a deliveryman, something he always carried with him for emergencies… He handed it over:

"Change to this. Germans love sweets, sugar is more reliable than spicy strips."

The boy took the lollipop with both hands, as if it were a precious treasure, carefully placed it in the hole, and then filled it back in with soil and tamped it down. His expression was even more serious than when he was in an acting class.

Shen Li looked again at the photo of the director of the academic affairs office wrapped in a plastic bag, and clicked her tongue:

"Director Wang, you handled this situation quite poorly. You buried his photo in the ground—what do you call that? You call it 'burial for peace.' Did you want him to bless you, or did you want to send him away?"

The boy's hand trembled, and he almost dropped the shovel. "I...I didn't think that much of a thing!"

"So, details determine success or failure." Shen Li shook her head, her face bearing the wisdom of someone who's been there.

"You should put the photo on your dorm desk, turn on a lamp as an ever-burning light, and bow to it every day when you pass by. This is called 'you'll see him again eventually,' 'time will tell,' and 'as long as the green hills remain, there's always firewood to burn.' How can people give you credit if you bury him in the ground? By sending him to your dreams?"

The boy suddenly realized what was happening, nodded repeatedly, quickly dug Director Wang's photo out of the soil, wiped the mud off the plastic bag with his sleeve, and stuffed it into his pocket.

After finishing all this, he looked at the small hole that had been filled in, clasped his hands together, muttered a few more words, then stood up and clasped his hands in a fist salute to Shen Li: "Dude, thank you! With your theoretical level, it's a shame you're not taking the postgraduate entrance exam!"

Shen Li waved her hand, looking humble:

"My approach is amateurish and not up to standard. As for your acting theories, you'll need to go back and study some books. Stanislavski and Brecht, one wants you to 'go in,' the other wants you to 'come out,' but they're not contradictory... You go in first, then come out, and you're all set, right? Being able to go in and come out is called 'freedom of control,' 'balance of tension and relaxation,' and 'even if the master gives you a gift, you still have to chew it yourself.'"

The boy paused for two seconds, then slowly gave a thumbs up: "Holy crap...man, your summary is clearer than anything I've learned in a whole semester!"

Shen Li grinned and patted the guy on the shoulder:

"Alright, all done. Stanislavski is eating an apple, Brecht is licking a lollipop, and Director Wang is overseeing the dorm. The three gods are each doing their jobs, and the performance theory is as solid as a rock. Go back and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow's exam, just don't let your brain short-circuit."

The boy thanked him profusely, packed up his "ritual tools," grabbed a tattered newspaper, and scurried away.

Shen Li watched him disappear into the night, and finally couldn't hold back anymore. She leaned against a tree trunk and laughed so hard she couldn't straighten up.

Stanislavski paired with apples, Brecht paired with spicy strips but replaced with lollipops, and the photo of the dean of academic affairs was buried and then dug up again...

"This is insane, the world has truly gone mad." Shen Li wiped away the tears of laughter and shook her head.

"One student bows to the dean of academic affairs, another wears a Hawaiian shirt to a dictionary class, and yet another annotates 'Thunderstorm' like a guide to avoiding bad actors... What kind of weirdos are these at the Beijing Film Academy?"

After laughing enough, he straightened up, took a deep breath to calm himself down, and silently labeled this "martyr of performance theory" in his mind:

A performing arts major, suffering from severe performance theory phobia, and adept at cross-system hybrid superstitions. He's dragged Stanislavski, Brecht, and the dean of academic affairs into the same cult—a veritable "Northeast stew of academic beliefs." Tags: Rare species, just for fun, don't get too close, lest you catch his cynical influence.

Finally, remembering the question that guy had asked earlier, "Should we become friends or keep our distance?", a slight smile appeared on his lips.

"I can get in and out easily," Shen Li muttered to herself as she strolled towards the dormitory.

"Acting is like this, and so is life. You have to 'go in' to slack off, and you also have to 'come out' to watch the show. Only by striking the right balance can you navigate both sides successfully and avoid getting overwhelmed."

The next day, at eight o'clock in the morning.

Shen Li, dragging her two still-protesting legs, limped into the fourth teaching building.

This morning I got a severe beating from that she-devil Fang Ying again... five kilometers of warm-up, five sets of step jumps, and three sets of core strength exercises.

During flexibility training, he personally pressed down on Shen Li's legs, and the force he used was as if he wanted to fold Shen Li in half.

Shen Li felt that her legs had evolved from "soreness" to "numbness", and then from "numbness" to "out-of-body experience".

"Damn it, are they training me like a special forces soldier..." he thought to himself as he moved to the back of the classroom.

"I'm a drama student, not a Navy SEAL. But seriously, my thigh muscles have definitely gotten a lot more toned. I pinched them a couple of times in the shower yesterday... yeah, they're hard, really hard!"

"If I practice for another two months, when we're fighting over lunchboxes at the film studio, anyone who dares to try and take it from me, I'll sweep my leg over and send them flying three meters away, food and all!"

When they arrived at the classroom door, Shen Li peeked inside and was amazed to find that the classroom was as big as a small movie theater, with tiered seating that could fit about two hundred people.

Today's class is on film history, a combined class of students from the acting, directing, and broadcasting departments. It was incredibly crowded and chaotic.