Rebirth: A big star falls in love with me

Shu Chang went to change her clothes.

The rehearsal hall was quiet, sunlight streaming in through the tall windows and casting bright dappled patterns on the floor. Looking at those dappled patterns, Zhang Yu suddenly remembered Chen Chen standing in the sunlight in Xitang, wearing a cheongsam. Back then, she was a girl who completely trusted him; now…

"Director Zhang, I'm ready!"

Shu Chang's voice pulled him back to reality. She had changed into a light blue Republic-era student uniform, with two braids hanging down her chest, and light makeup on her face, making her look as pure as mountain spring water.

“Let’s begin,” Zhang Yu said.

Shu Chang walked to the center of the rehearsal hall, took a deep breath, and began her performance. She was playing Lin Shuwan chasing butterflies in her own garden. There were no lines; she relied entirely on body language and facial expressions. She tiptoed closer, her eyes fixed on the imaginary butterflies in the air, her face displaying the unique innocence and curiosity of a young girl.

Zhang Yu watched quietly. Shu Chang's performance was natural and spirited; that unpolished innocence was something many professional actors couldn't achieve. But she also had a problem—she was too extroverted. Every movement was exaggerated, every expression was over-the-top, as if she were acting in a stage play rather than a movie.

"Stop," Zhang Yu called out.

Shu Chang stopped and looked at him somewhat nervously: "Director Zhang, did I act badly?"

“It’s not that it’s bad, it’s a matter of degree.” Zhang Yu stood up and walked over to her. “Film acting is about subtlety and realism. Your butterfly-catching action just now might be okay on stage, but it’s too exaggerated in front of the camera.”

He demonstrated personally: "Look, if it were Lin Shu-wan from the movie, she should look like this—"

He tiptoed slightly, gently raised his fingers, gazed intently at the sky, and smiled faintly. The movement was subtle and natural, yet it perfectly captured the innocence and naivety of a young girl.

Shu Chang was stunned: "Director Zhang...you acted much better than me."

“Because I am ‘becoming’ Lin Shuwan, not ‘acting’ as Lin Shuwan.” Zhang Yu looked at her. “Try again, and remember this time—you are not performing for the audience; you are the girl chasing butterflies in the garden.”

Shu Chang nodded and started again. This time she was much more restrained, her movements were more natural, and her expressions were more subtle. Especially the moment she missed her target, the fleeting disappointment on her face followed by a brightening of anticipation was handled very well.

“You got it right this time.” Zhang Yu nodded. “Remember this feeling. Film acting is about ‘restraint’ and ‘concealment.’ You have to trust that the camera can capture your every subtle expression.”

"Thank you, Director Zhang!" Shu Chang smiled happily. "Then... will I get this role?"

“It also depends on the others,” Zhang Yu said officially, “but your performance was good, and I will consider it.”

"That's great!" Shu Chang jumped up happily, then suddenly remembered something, "By the way, Director Zhang, isn't Senior Chen Chen coming today? I'd like her to give me some guidance."

“She has something to do today,” Zhang Yu said briefly.

"Oh..." Shu Chang observed the situation and didn't ask any more questions. "Director Zhang, may I ask you a question?"

"Just ask."

"What do you think is the most important thing in acting?" Shu Chang asked earnestly. "I've seen many actors. Some have excellent skills, but they just can't move people. Some have average skills, but they are very moving. I want to be the second type."

Zhang Yu looked at her; this seventeen-year-old girl had asked a question that many veteran actors hadn't even figured out. He thought for a moment: "The most important thing is sincerity. You have to truly believe that you are that character, how you would think and act in that situation. Skills can be practiced, but sincerity cannot be learned."

"I understand!" Shu Chang's eyes lit up. "Just like you said, it's about 'becoming,' not 'acting'!"

“Yes.” Zhang Yu nodded. “Alright, that’s all for today. Go back and think about it some more. If you don’t understand anything, you can ask me.”

"Thank you, Director Zhang!" Shu Chang bowed deeply, then skipped off to change her clothes.

Watching her retreating figure, Zhang Yu felt a complex mix of emotions. This girl was so young and so talented; if properly nurtured, she would surely achieve great things. But in this industry, talent is often the easiest thing to be worn down.

I hope she can maintain this sincerity for a while longer.

At noon, Zhang Yu was eating his boxed lunch in the lounge next to the rehearsal hall. His phone rang; it was a text message from Liu Yifei: "Director Zhang, I'm sorry, I probably can't make it this afternoon. My mother says I'm too young and not suitable for acting in period dramas set in the Republican era."

Zhang Yu frowned and replied, "What did your mother say?"

"She said I should focus on my studies now, and that I can think about acting when I'm older." Liu Yifei replied quickly with a text message, and one could imagine the disappointment in her voice as she typed, "I'm sorry, Director Zhang, I've let you down."

"It's okay, we respect your mother's decision. Focus on your studies, there will be other opportunities in the future."

After replying to the text message, Zhang Yu put down his phone and looked out the window at the sky. Liu Yifei was only thirteen years old; she was indeed too young. Her mother's decision was right. This industry was too complicated and too dangerous for underage girls. Especially... with a director like him involved.

The audition scheduled for 1 p.m. was canceled. Zhang Yu could have rested, but after thinking about it, he sent Song Qian a text message: "You can come earlier this afternoon, around 2 p.m."

Song Qian replied almost instantly: "Okay, Director Zhang! I'm off right now!"

At 1:50, Song Qian arrived. She was wearing a white down jacket, her long hair loose, and her face bare of makeup, but youth itself was her best beauty. Seeing Zhang Yu, her eyes lit up like stars: "Director Zhang! I'm here!"

"Hmm." Zhang Yu nodded. "Which role would you like to try out for?"

“I want to try... Lin Shuwan’s cousin, the girl who can dance!” Song Qian said. “Although she doesn’t have many scenes, I saw in the script that she danced a dance called ‘Spring River Flower Moon Night,’ which I happen to have learned!”

She was referring to a very minor character in the script, appearing for less than ten minutes, but who did indeed have a dance scene. Zhang Yu was somewhat surprised: "Are you sure? This character has very few scenes."

"I don't care about the size of the role!" Song Qian said earnestly. "I just want to learn from you! Even if it's just a small role, I'll be satisfied as long as I can work with you!"

She spoke with such sincerity that Zhang Yu felt a pang of guilt. The girl's adoration for him was so pure and so fervent, yet he was taking advantage of it.

"Then...you're going to do a jump," Zhang Yu said.

Song Qian took off her down jacket, revealing a light green practice outfit underneath. The rehearsal hall had sound equipment; she played some traditional Chinese music and then began to dance.

Zhang Yu had to admit that Song Qian was indeed very talented in dance. The dance "Spring River Flower Moon Night" was very difficult, requiring extremely strong physical control and emotional expression, but she danced it with fluid grace, every movement full of charm. Her light green practice clothes fluttered with her movements, like willow branches swaying in the spring breeze.