Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

Chapter 3 I am a professional and usually don’t laugh unless I can’t help it
"It's 100 kilograms. I'm sorry, I was too nervous." Yang Chaoyue reacted vaguely and waved his hands hurriedly.

A few strands of hair hung down from his forehead, brushing past the tips of Yang Chaoyue's frozen red ears, like winter cherry blossoms trembling on a branch.

Jiang Yang smiled and looked up to take a closer look at Yang Chaoyue.

She tied her hair into a ponytail with an elastic band, and had delicate features and a palm-sized oval face.

Her cheeks were flushed with the redness of a winter girl due to the temperature difference.

The chiffon dress had faded threads at the neckline, and the hem was covered with white cotton wool stuck to it by static electricity from the textile factory.

Even so, her appearance is still very good.

In her previous life, Yang Chaoyue was criticized by the entire network for her poor business ability. People criticized her from all kinds of angles, but they couldn't criticize her appearance.

It can be seen that Yang Chaoyue is very nervous.

Jiang Yang felt a little reluctant to trick such an ignorant little girl, but he had to act like one: "Excuse me, why do you want to apply for a girl group?"

"Because I've dreamed of being in a girl group since I was a kid."

The words fell.

Jiang Yang looked at him with a heavy gaze: "Tell the truth!"

"Because the income is high... 5000 yuan a month."

Yang Chaoyue's throat moved rapidly as he added hurriedly, "I work on a piecework basis at the textile factory, 5000 yuan. I have to sew so many threads every month. Even if I sew my sewing machine until it smokes, I still can't make that much money."

Jiang Yang could sense Yang Chaoyue's uneasiness, and he looked at him carefully.

Don't say it, really don't say it.

The way Yang Chaoyue pursed his lips nervously looked very much like the Yang Chaoyue on the night of the talent show in his previous life who was mocked by the whole network for "slacking off" but stubbornly refused to cry.

Even the redness on the tip of the nose in winter is exactly the same.

"Next, let's test your voice, stage, and shape chart. Do you know what these four words mean?"

What is the sound stage shape table?
Yang Chaoyue rubbed his hands nervously and responded positively:
"Is it talking, lifting things, making shapes, performing? I can do all of these. I practice them often in the factory."

He got one of the four answers right, and it was obvious that Yang Chaoyue was just guessing.

Jiang Yang finally reacted.

She didn't even take the college entrance examination, let alone the art examination, so how could she have any idea about this?

If Yang Chaoyue were asked to talk about the textile processes in a textile factory, such as cotton cleaning, carding, drawing and roving, he might be able to talk for an hour.

Jiang Yang changed the subject: "Where are you from?"

"Yancheng, Jiangsu."

"What's your Mandarin proficiency test level?"

Yang Chaoyue's heart tightened when he heard this, and his knees shook slightly under the table: "What, what level?"

"The Mandarin Proficiency Test is divided into three levels and six grades. Which level are you at?" Jiang Yang asked seriously, "Have you ever taken the Mandarin test?"

"No." Yang Chaoyue pursed her lips and shook her head, the tassels on the cheap chiffon skirt trembling slightly.

Do I need to take an exam for Mandarin?

never heard of that.

She has no use for this certificate in her life.

Is the interviewer evaluating her potential business capabilities in a girl group?

Just like the confusion of children from mountain villages when they first learned about IELTS and TOEFL.

From this moment on, Yang Chaoyue felt the professionalism of this interview.

"Don't be nervous. It doesn't matter if you haven't taken the Mandarin exam. You can take a temporary test. I just need to have a good idea of ​​what to do."

Jiang Yang put down his pen and glanced at the Meituan delivery rider in a yellow vest speeding past the glass curtain wall.

He took a sip of the hot American coffee on the table and said with a gentle smile: "I'll write a few words and you just read them out."

"Yes! I know how to read."

Yang Chaoyue's slender fingers wrinkled the chiffon skirt as she watched Jiang Yang pull out an A4 paper from his briefcase and write with the golden Montblanc pen.

The strokes are completed in one go, the horizontal strokes are slightly thin, the vertical strokes are slightly thicker, and even the left and right strokes have clear variations. The strokes end neatly and have a return stroke. Every character is as skillful as Jiang Yang's appearance.

This is exactly what made Yang Chaoyue even more nervous.

Jiang Yang pointed to the first sentence he had just written and said, "Use what you consider to be the most standard Mandarin, read these four words again: I support you."

"I love you." Yang Chaoyue subconsciously pressed the tip of his tongue against his lower teeth as he spoke.

“Read this again: Are you a teacher or a student?”

"Are you four elders thinking of returning to the four apprentice monks?"

Jiang Yang wanted to laugh, but held it back.

He continued pointing to the words on the A4 paper and reading: "Sleep."

"Fragmented sleep."

"taxi."

"Rough rental car."

"pork."

"Zhulou...what are you laughing at? Is my Mandarin not standard?"

"I'm a professional. Normally I don't laugh unless I can't help it."

Jiang Yang laughed out loud.

There is a lot of room for improvement in Yang Chaoyue's Mandarin pronunciation, and Jiang Yang is very satisfied with this, because he himself cannot pronounce the front and back nasal sounds in Mandarin standardly.

So he only tested Yang Chaoyue's flat and curled tongue part.

Girls from the countryside inevitably have a hint of dialect in their Mandarin.

In addition, the textile factory where Yang Chaoyue works is equivalent to a dialect cluster, so the test results were within Jiang Yang's expectations.

It just so happens that if he signs Yang Chaoyue and improves her Mandarin level, his own Mandarin level will also be improved accordingly through system feedback.

After all, I want to be an actor in the future. Acting requires a lot of attention to "voice, stage, appearance and performance", and the "stage" here refers to the lines.

Since getting the system, Jiang Yang has done enough homework in this area and knows what areas he needs to improve.

Lines are an important means of communication between actors and the audience, and are also one of the key elements in shaping a character.

The prerequisite for making the lines vivid and lively, with appropriate tone and intonation, reasonable pause and emphasis techniques, is to be able to speak fluent Mandarin.

Yang Chaoyue didn't understand why Jiang Yang was laughing, so she also laughed dryly.

But the next second, she couldn't laugh anymore.

Because she saw Jiang Yang holding the Montblanc pen that reflected golden light, and lightly wrote three words in the Mandarin proficiency column on the registration form: Unqualified!

Yang Chaoyue's pupils contracted instantly, the knuckles that were gripping the hem of her skirt turned red, and her earlobes quickly became swollen and red.

Steam rose from two cups of hot American coffee on the table between the two of them.

"Do you know the song 'Little Apple' that was popular last year?" Jiang Yang asked.

"Yes, I saw the Chopstick Brothers' performance on the website, and my roommate often played this song on his phone last year."

"Can you sing a few lines?"

Yang Chaoyue lowered his eyes and saw Jiang Yang holding a pen, hovering over the singing level column on the registration form.

The warm light from the white Starbucks chandelier penetrated the strands of hair by her ears, casting a tiny spot of light on the bridge of her nose. Yang Chaoyue hummed softly, "I planted a seed, and finally it grew into fruit..."

As soon as he opened his mouth, Jiang Yang could tell that the voice was out of tune and had gone to northern Myanmar.

The pitch that should be raised is not raised, and the pitch that should be lowered is not lowered enough. The melody sounds chaotic and the voice sounds hoarse and dry.

That’s great. There is great potential in singing.

Jiang Yang wrote three words: Unqualified.

"Do you know how to dance to the chorus of 'Little Apple'?"

"Yes... a little bit." Yang Chaoyue bit his lower lip tightly.

The man sitting next to me who was browsing Weibo on his Xiaomi 4 looked over.

The female customer at the front desk who had just completed fingerprint payment with her iPhone 5S was also looking over here.

She glanced at the curious eyes in Starbucks, stood up timidly, walked to the table, and jumped up: "You are my little apple..."

The coordination of limbs is chaotic.

When they should raise their hands, they stamp their feet, become flustered, and even synchronize their hands and feet.

Then the movements become distorted.

The iconic movement of raising both hands and swinging them to the left is uneven, with varying amplitudes, unnatural arm bends, and a lack of rhythm.

A clumsy effort.

That’s great! There’s a lot of room for improvement in dancing. This was Jiang Yang’s first reaction.

"I'm sorry, I may not have met your expectations." After dancing, Yang Chaoyue sat down again, holding the slightly cooled hot American cup in his hands, his eyes a little red.

While she was dancing just now, she noticed that other customers were looking at her.

Even laughter was heard.

The shame of public executions.

Although the application requirements state that there is no experience required, training is included and no foundation is required.

But Jiang Yang is obviously a professional interviewer in this field. With such a poor foundation as hers, can she really get the job?

Thinking of the criticisms from his female colleagues when he borrowed a skirt in the dormitory, Yang Chaoyue felt very embarrassed.

Yes, if she can get such a good job, then all the female workers in the textile factory can do it, right?

"It's okay. I can see that you tried your best. Although your foundation is poor, I appreciate your sincerity." Jiang Yang said with a smile.

Hearing this, Yang Chaoyue raised his eyes.

Jiang Yang wrote three words in the dance column: "Unqualified."

The scratching sound of the pen tip scratching across the paper can be clearly heard.

A voice denied by authority.

Yang Chaoyue's eyes drooped again.

I failed all the tests and I am sure I failed the interview.

I spent 70 yuan on two hot American-style dresses, and I gave my colleague a 30 yuan bribe to borrow his chiffon skirt. 100 yuan was wasted.

My stomach is still empty now.

If I had known this earlier, I would have listened to my supervisor in front of the recruitment column and not made the interview call. With this money, I can comfortably eat 10 bowls of spicy sour soup noodles.

"There is something I must tell you in advance. After becoming an artist, you cannot find a boyfriend, let alone fall in love. Can you accept this?" Jiang Yang asked.

"I can accept it. It's not a big problem."

Knowing she had failed the interview, Yang Chaoyue simply opened up and became more talkative: "5000 yuan, with food and accommodation included, I can find a boyfriend if I want, but such a good job is so hard to find. I have no academic qualifications, and there are thousands of college graduates competing with me for jobs. How can I snatch one?"

Jiang Yang felt familiar with this kind of self-deprecation.

Students from third-year universities are afraid to submit their resumes to large companies due to self-imposed limitations.

When the young people from small towns saw the words "recruitment only for 985 universities", they turned back silently.

Weak and awake.

"Okay, I understand almost everything. That's all for today's interview."

Jiang Yang put the cap on his pen, stood up, and extended his hand to Yang Chaoyue with a professional smile: "Ms. Yang, you passed the interview."

Yang Chaoyue's body seemed to be frozen for a while. He looked up at Jiang Yang and then reacted. He stood up, stretched out his hand to shake hands with Jiang Yang, and lowered his eyes to look at the registration form on the table.

All test sections failed.

The column for interview results only had two words written on it: "Passed!"

The hot air from the Starbucks central air conditioner whistled in her ears, and the reflection of the word "passed" burned her pupils. "I performed so poorly, do I still have the qualification to pass?"

(End of this chapter)