Chapter 11
We Are Not Suitable.
Not Suitable.
Suitable.
Chi Yan: “…”
Wen Xingze: “…”
This sentence seems ambiguous!
Wen Xingze double-checked that this was indeed Room 205, and the floor was correct. He then nervously approached Chi Yan:
“Apologies, Teacher Chi, I didn’t mean it that way.”
Chi Yan remained silent.
As Wen Xingze got closer, he noticed that the man wore gold-rimmed glasses on his prominent nose bridge. Off-screen, he always lacked expression, making it hard to discern his emotions.
Chi Yan is nearsighted? Wen Xingze was surprised and couldn’t help but glance at his eyes.
But come to think of it, it made sense. Yesterday in the elevator, Chi Yan wasn’t wearing glasses, yet when he was supposed to show his friend request for the game, it was a WeChat code… No, that still didn’t quite add up.
Chi Yan raised his gaze.
Wen Xingze had slept well last night; his slightly disheveled hair looked lazily cute. His light-colored pupils held the morning light, unwaveringly fixed on Chi Yan.
Chi Yan showed no emotion, yet his gaze lingered on Wen Xingze’s face for more than three seconds before he said, “Sit.”
Wen Xingze plopped down.
The room structure wasn’t typical for a practice room. Besides the floor-to-ceiling mirror and hardwood floor, there was an extensive bookshelf with various titles, along with European-style sofas and recliners.
Seeing Wen Xingze’s puzzled expression, Chi Yan flipped an hourglass on the table, pausing before saying, “What’s your question? You have one minute.”
Such a humane approach to teaching!
Wen Xingze had many questions but didn’t know where to start. Following his instincts, he asked, “Are you nearsighted?”
Chi Yan hadn’t expected that to be the first question.
He nodded, signaling for Wen Xingze to continue.
“My manager said I’d have an acting training class with a teacher. Is that you? Will you be teaching for the next week? I hope it won’t be too disruptive, you must have other work.”
“Um,” Wen Xingze noticed Chi Yan wasn’t interrupting. Perhaps he wanted Wen Xingze to finish all his questions before answering?
Chi Yan didn’t show displeasure, putting Wen Xingze at ease. Unintentionally, Wen Xingze’s tone shifted to that of a fan meeting his idol:
“I really admire you! Can I get your autograph later? When will the casting for ‘One Day’ begin? I’m so excited! Will you continue directing? I love all the movies you’ve acted in, especially ‘Late Spring’ and ‘No Grass or Trees’. I’ve watched them over ten times each.” Wen Xingze glanced at the hourglass; the countdown was almost up. He braked urgently, “May I know how to address you?”
As the last grain of sand fell, the hourglass emptied.
Phew.
He’d asked almost everything and subtly expressed his admiration. Wen Xingze thought he was quite the little genius.
Chi Yan responded with a simple “Whatever you like.”
Wen Xingze: “Understood.”
Curious about the answers to his remaining questions, Wen Xingze felt anticipation.
And then…
“If you have no further questions, let’s begin the class,” Chi Yan said.
Wen Xingze: “?”
Chi Yan opened the script, twirling his pen between his distinct knuckles, and circled a passage: “Let’s assess your fundamentals with this section.”
Wen Xingze: “???”
It was starting? What about the answers to the previous questions? So, Chi Yan just wanted him to ask and satisfy his curiosity?
Chi Yan flipped the hourglass again, casually saying, “One minute to prepare.”
Wen Xingze: “…”
Darn.
He retracted his earlier words, this education wasn’t humane at all.
What a devilish teacher!
________________________
Muse Empire.
“Congratulations, parents! You’ve found a trustworthy teacher for your child. The mission progress has been updated. Please check it out.”
[Halfway: Damn.]
[Blazing Fire: Damn?!]
[Summer Ignorance: Hmph, it’s just that I’m not in that universe.]
Finding a reliable teacher for the Emperor was initially a challenging task for parents. It wasn’t something they could achieve solely by spending money. Their in-game resources were limited, and they aimed for maximum benefit.
Last night, the Cabinet even held an emergency meeting to finalize the candidate and plan the route.
Chi Yan wasn’t initially on the shortlist.
Firstly, the Emperor adored him too much. Although it was fan-like admiration, it still sparked subtle jealousy among many parents.
This mysterious person, of unknown origin, has somehow captured the Emperor’s attention.
Of course, the main reason is that Chi Yan bears a striking resemblance to that tyrant.
Honestly, when they first saw him yesterday, their hearts skipped a beat. Rulers from neighboring countries, especially the monarch of Utopia, rarely appear in the media. And with his eyes completely covered by a pure black eye mask, the contours of half his face — the thin lips, the curve of his jaw — really resemble him.
Allowing anyone or anything related to an enemy nation near the Emperor is their bottom line, even within the game.
Who would have thought that NPC Chi Yan would defy common sense!
How could an NPC become the Emperor’s teacher against the parents’ wishes? Could he also be a parent? Impossible, right?
Given the circumstances, apart from venting their frustration on the StarNet and cursing the neighboring country, there’s no other way to change the situation.
Setting aside other matters, purely in terms of capability, there’s indeed no better teacher for the Emperor.
Among all the parents, Xia is the angriest.
She firmly believed that she should be responsible for her Cub’s acting career. After all, she was already a cosmic superstar, and her mermaid lineage gifted her with a beautiful voice and appearance — no one was more suitable than her.
She even turned down all her schedules for the second half of the year.
But unexpectedly, the first filter activated by the Emperor was intercepted by the Dragon Clan, and now Chi Yan has snatched the opportunity to become the Emperor’s teacher. How absurd!
Especially today, the insufferable Dragon Clan leader contacted her again to boast:
“Yesterday, His Majesty praised our cooking, and he even took our private jet.” The camera showed a thriving scene at the Dragon Star Mountain, where thousands of dragons huddled together, chattering away. It seemed like they were… knitting sweaters and making soup?
The golden dragon beamed with pride. “The clothes he’s wearing today were our choice. He complimented our taste.”
Driven by excitement, the dragons splurged on expensive fabrics from Tafu Star overnight. Each dragon knitted a sweater for the Emperor, and they even started honing their culinary skills for any future needs.
Unfortunately, the two universes still couldn’t mail physical items, or else Wen Xingze wouldn’t need to buy sweaters for the rest of his life.
“…”
Xia disconnected the call expressionlessly.
Thanks for the invitation. She’s in the right mood — even tempted to slay dragons.
Before her, the “Cub Raising Program” system popped up a new window:
Activate the Learning Mode Immersion Card (duration: 63 hours)? [Yes/No]
Ding-dong! Learning Mode Immersion Card activated successfully. Learning mode now active: Cub’s focus increased by 200%, knowledge absorption speed increased by 200%.
Key character [Chi Yan] matched successfully, with an additional 100% attribute boost. Acting skill tree upgrade to level 1 in progress, totaling 63 hours…
________________________
In the afternoon, at Shengtian Entertainment.
They had agreed to sign the contract for Encounter with the Dragon at 3 PM. When Zheng Xiao and the producer entered the conference room, Wen Xingze hadn’t arrived yet.
Jiang Ye glanced at her watch and explained, “We arranged an acting training class for him with a strict teacher. It might run late… So, please wait a moment. I’ll find him.”
“Starting classes so soon? Xiao Wen is diligent,” Zheng Xiao intercepted Jiang Ye. “No worries, I’ll go check on him. It’s a good opportunity to see how he’s doing.”
Zheng Xiao and the producer followed Jiang Ye’s directions. Before they could knock, someone pushed the door open.
It was Wen Xingze, seemingly floating on air.
“Sister Ye, Director Zheng… Who’s this?” Wen Xingze noticed him, hesitated, and checked his phone. “Apologies, am I late? Did the class run over?”
“No, we arrived early. This is the producer for Encounter with the Dragon.” Zheng Xiao introduced him to Wen Xingze.
The producer, a middle-aged man with a slightly balding head, stepped forward and shook hands with Xingze. “Seeing is believing. Yesterday, Zheng Xiao and Mr. Inoshita praised you, and now that I see you, your appearance and demeanor truly are excellent.”
Zheng Xiao scrutinized Wen Xingze, looking puzzled. “Xiao Wen, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Seeing Xingze’s drained expression, Zheng Xiao couldn’t help but ask with concern.
Wen Xingze: “…”
This is quite a story.
Wen Xingze felt like he had survived a morning in hell.
From 8 a.m. to noon, with five-minute breaks between classes, followed by a one-hour lunch, then more classes in the afternoon.
Initially, when Wen Xingze learned that Chi Yan was his acting teacher, he was actually quite pleased. In his imagination, it would involve Chi Yan holding a script, the two of them chatting, sipping tea, discussing life goals…
But reality turned out differently.
Chi Yan was undoubtedly the strictest teacher Wen Xingze had ever encountered. Even the high school class monitor wasn’t as demanding. Wen Xingze felt like every second dragged on. First, Chi Yan tested his lines and basic movements with a short script segment, then relentlessly drilled him on weak points.
Wen Xingze didn’t want to dwell on the specifics. Just thinking about it made both the hourglass and Chi Yan trigger a conditioned nervous response.
Yet, perhaps thanks to Chi Yan, Wen Xingze found himself absorbing knowledge at an astonishing rate. Over the past five years, he’d only played minor roles or extras in various productions. Although he’d taken some classes and gained practical experience, it all paled in comparison to what he’d learned in half a day today.
He’d worried about whether he could handle the pivotal role of Heng Zhi in Encounter with the Dragon.
But if this intensive seven-day learning experience continued, he might just reach the required level, Wen Xingze thought.
Wen Xingze, Zheng Xiao, and the producer walked toward the conference room.
Zheng Xiao chatted with Wen Xingze along the way, “Take a look at the contract later and see if there are any modifications needed. Our schedule is a bit tight, we’re starting production next month.” The casting process for Heng Zhi had caused significant delays.
Wen Xingze nodded.
“Oh, by the way,” the producer suddenly remembered something and asked Wen Xingze, “Is your class held in Room 205?”
“Yes, why?” Wen Xingze replied.
The producer couldn’t help but give Wen Xingze another curious look.
If he remembered correctly, that room belonged to Chi Yan. And Chi Yan was a stickler for cleanliness — let alone lending it out, he rarely allowed anyone else inside.
Who exactly was this little Wen Xingze?
Or perhaps someone didn’t know about Chi Yan’s rules and borrowed the room without his knowledge? Considering Chi Yan’s unsociable personality, that possibility seemed more likely.
The producer subtly advised, “If you happen to encounter Film Emperor Chi Yan, feel free to learn from him, but keep it brief.”
After all, everyone in the entertainment industry adored Chi Yan. Not only was he an award-winning actor with exceptional skills, but his prestigious background also made countless people eager to connect with him.
Chi Yan particularly disliked people using learning acting or seeking advice as an excuse to get close to him. The producer didn’t want Wen Xingze to face such awkward situations, hence the extra comment.
However, Wen Xingze didn’t quite understand. Despite that, it didn’t hinder his friendly interaction with the producer. “Sure, I’ll do my best.”
He also wanted to keep it brief.
But the teacher might have other plans…
By the time they finished signing the contract, it was nearly 6 p.m.
Although filming was still half a month away, there were makeup sessions, the kick-off ceremony, script readings, and actor rehearsals to prepare for. Plus, the shooting location was in another province, so travel time needed to be factored in. All in all, Wen Xingze had about a week to get ready.
The producer, being a middle-aged gossip, still had Room 205 on his mind. The more he thought about it, the less comfortable he felt. Wasn’t Wen Xingze’s acting teacher a bit audacious? Daring to use Emperor Chi Yan’s room? Jiang Ye should be aware of this, so why didn’t she intervene?
Meanwhile, blissfully unaware, Wen Xingze glanced at his phone. Just a moment ago, Chi Yan had sent him a WeChat message:
[y: Something came up. After the meeting, don’t leave.]
Suddenly, Wen Xingze felt like he was back in high school, being called out by the class teacher at the end of the day: “Don’t leave yet.”
Wen Xingze: “…”
This might take a while.
Wen Xingze felt like he was just a step away from ascending to another dimension.
Zheng Xiao called out to the producer, “Old Li, let’s go.”
At this moment, the producer’s expression had shifted to one of pity as he thought, 'Chi Yan dares to turn down anyone, even in public. From A-list celebrities to rising stars, hardly anyone has escaped his refusal… If Emperor Chi Yan discovers this, the poor kid will be embarrassed.'
Suddenly, a polite knocking sound came from the door.
Thump, thump, thump — three knocks.
The producer’s train of thought abruptly halted, and everyone turned toward the entrance.
The conference room door had silently swung open at some point.
In the twilight, with the corridor still unlit, a tall man stood at the boundary of light and shadow. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, every button meticulously fastened.
Chi Yan remained silent, his dark eyes half-lidded, exuding an aura that kept people at a thousand-mile distance.
“…?” The producer widened his eyes, unable to resist glancing at Wen Xingze. His expression held a mix of curiosity and amusement as he asked, “Whom are you looking for?”
Chi Yan looked directly at Wen Xingze, ignoring everyone else.
“Apologies, I’m here to see Wen Xingze.”
Wen Xingze immediately locked his phone screen and stood up. He hadn’t expected Chi Yan to come directly to the conference room to find him.
Wen Xingze: “Sister Ye, Director Zheng, Producer Li, the teacher is looking for me. Should I leave now?”
Jiang Ye: “Yes, go ahead.”
Wen Xingze walked to the door and exchanged a few hushed words with Chi Yan.
From the perspective of the three people inside the room, they could see Chi Yan gazing down at Wen Xingze. Although his expression remained neutral, he seemed focused and patient.
Then the door closed.
“Huh, what was that?”
The producer had initially thought Chi Yan was there to reprimand someone, but then he realized that Chi Yan wouldn’t do such a thing.
And that look just now — why didn’t it seem like anger?
“Could Xiao Wen be related to Film Emperor Chi Yan?”
“What relative?” Jiang Ye absentmindedly played with her phone. “No, Chi Yan has been teaching him recently.”
The producer exclaimed, “Oh, so he is Xiao Wen’s teacher… Wait, what?!”
Even as they left Shengtian, the producer remained in a daze.
Had he misheard, or was the world truly upside down?
Chi Yan, teaching acting to a minor star who hadn’t even had a breakthrough role?!!
________________________
Wen Xingze followed Chi Yan into the elevator, feeling quite apprehensive.
The familiar scene, familiar person — it reminded Wen Xingze of QR codes and Love Nikki.
But let’s not dwell on that.
Chi Yan didn’t state his purpose, and Wen Xingze wasn’t too keen on asking.
It was somewhat akin to a high school student approaching their homework for the night.
They walked silently all the way to the parking lot. Chi Yan’s car was a Maybach S-Class. He nodded at Wen Xingze, indicating for him to take the passenger seat.
Minghua Apartments weren’t far from Shengtian Entertainment — just a ten-minute drive.
Located in an affluent area, the apartments boasted excellent security and soundproofing. Despite being close to the city center, it remained peaceful.
Chi Yan’s home occupied the top floor of Minghua Apartments, a duplex spanning over five hundred square meters. The interior design was extremely minimalist, dominated by shades of gray and black. It was so understated that it almost didn’t look like anyone lived there.
Chi Yan had a penchant for hourglasses and similar decorations. The wall-mounted clocks appeared custom-designed by a Swiss artist specifically for him, exuding a cold yet precise beauty.
Wen Xingze changed into slippers at the entrance, puzzled by Chi Yan’s intentions:
“Um… should I take a tour?”
Chi Yan unbuttoned his suit jacket, removed his watch, and made a casual gesture.
Although he said that, Wen Xingze didn’t dare to wander around Chi Yan’s house. He symbolically circled the living room a couple of times. Finally, Chi Yan spoke:
“The second-floor screening room will be our future class location.”
Xingze finally understood the purpose of this visit. So, Chi Yan was here to introduce him to the place. “Oh, you don’t want to go to the company?”
Chi Yan glanced at him and countered, “Do you want to?”
Wen Xingze answered truthfully, “I actually do.” Shengtian Entertainment had better decor, spacious and bright practice rooms, and a better atmosphere than that tiny studio at Daomei.
Chi Yan replied, “Don’t think about it anymore.”
Wen Xingze: “?”
How shocking, the youngest three-time Film Emperor was doing this to avoid going to work.
Wen Xingze went upstairs.
The second floor was spacious, directly connected to the rooftop garden and the swimming pool. On the other side were two rooms — one was the screening room, and the purpose of the other room remained unclear.
Chi Yan had specifically warned him not to go into the other room. It seemed off-limits.
Although it was called a screening room, its size rivaled that of the practice room from earlier in the day. It had a circular projection system, complete with sound equipment. Neatly arranged on shelves were all the works Chi Yan had ever acted in, categorized by timeline.
Wen Xingze felt excited.
This was Chi Yan’s home screening room!
After the intense educational experience throughout the day, Wen Xingze had almost forgotten he was Chi Yan’s fan.
'Perhaps idols should keep their personal lives separate from their fans,' Wen Xingze mused.
He refrained from touching anything, even though he was itching to explore. He carefully circled the room and then descended the stairs.
Plenty of time ahead.
As Wen Xingze descended, he happened to see a chef coming out of the kitchen, greeting Chi Yan. The dining table was already set with dishes.
Chi Yan nodded indifferently, and the chef wished him an enjoyable meal before leaving.
Wen Xingze thought, 'So, you’re the private chef who goes wherever the master goes,' recalling Manli's head of staff’s description.
Wen Xingze: “Teacher Chi, should I take my leave?”
He’d heard that Chi Yan didn’t like being disturbed during meals, so Wen Xingze didn’t want to be impolite.
Due to strong parental demands, Wen Xingze would stay at Manli until he found a place that satisfied the Dragon clan. The head of staff had just messaged him, asking for his location, saying they’d send a driver to pick him up.
Upon hearing this, Chi Yan raised an eyebrow slightly, looking somewhat surprised for a moment.
Wen Xingze: “?”
Chi Yan asked, “How are you getting back?”
Wen Xingze: “Someone is coming to pick me up.”
Chi Yan responded with a low “Hmm.”
“See you tomorrow,” he said.
“See you tomorrow.”
“…”
As Chi Yan sat at the table, he remained quiet for a moment. Then he extinguished the candle he had just lit.
Wen Xingze’s footsteps gradually faded away, accompanied by the sounds of opening and closing doors.
Chi Yan didn’t have a sweet tooth, yet the table was filled with Jiangsu and Zhejiang cuisine, ranging from sweet and sour spare ribs to squirrel-shaped mandarin fish.
Of course, the chef, who had served the Chi family for many years, wouldn’t make such a basic mistake.
As night fully enveloped the room, after the candle flame died out, the empty space felt slightly desolate. Chi Yan stood up, deciding to have the staff clear the dishes.
And it was precisely at that moment...
“Teacher Chi, I’ve been thinking… Why is it so dark? Do you movie stars eat dinner without turning on the lights?” Wen Xingze unexpectedly returned. The room was too dim, and he nearly tripped on the stairs.
Chi Yan: “…”
He switched on the overhead light and looked at Wen Xingze. “What?”
“I think I should invite you to dinner. I wasn’t sure when you’d be available.”
As Wen Xingze finished speaking, he noticed that there were two sets of tableware on the table.
Clearly, Chi Yan couldn’t dine with the household staff or the chef. Could it be—
“Oh so, you’re inviting me to dinner,” Wen Xingze playfully tapped his nose with his index finger, and his amber eyes widened in embarrassment. “How can I accept such kindness?”
With that, he sat down across from Chi Yan with a soft thud.
Chi Yan was utterly speechless.
After a moment, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his gaze clear.
He turned slightly away, concealing his expression from Wen Xingze’s view.
Just like in the elevator last time — Wen Xingze had thought he was upset then, but now, upon closer inspection… Chi Yan seemed to be suppressing a laugh.
Wen Xingze: “…”
Was Chi Yan actually laughing at him? What was so funny! But come to think of it, did Chi Yan even know how to laugh?
Chi Yan displayed impeccable dining etiquette, unexpectedly attentive and patient. He even helped Wen Xingze crack open two crabs and slice the berry pie.
Wen Xingze hadn’t noticed when Chi Yan had done all this — it felt natural. His only responsibility was to enjoy the meal.
Strangely enough, even without conversation, Wen Xingze found the atmosphere quite pleasant.
Chi Yan wasn’t as difficult to get along with as rumored. Perhaps the gossip from the outside world wasn’t entirely reliable.
Well, except during teaching hours.
The dining table was positioned near the floor-to-ceiling windows. The gentle summer night breeze flowed in, city lights twinkling and merging. Traffic hummed incessantly, and the stars adorned the sky.
Summer had long settled in.
As dinner concluded, it was time to bid farewell. This time, Chi Yan escorted Wen Xingze downstairs. The driver from Manli had already arrived.
The head of staff, wearing white gloves, waited by the Bentley. First, he bowed to Wen Xingze, paused, and then bowed to Chi Yan.
“Teacher Chi, see you tomorrow,” Wen Xingze said.
Now Xingze could somewhat decipher Chi Yan’s intentions. Since Chi Yan remained silent, there must be something else he wanted to say. So, although Wen Xingze had already settled into the car, he rolled down the window and asked, “Do you have any other questions?”
Chi Yan: “Can we start class one hour earlier tomorrow?”
Xingze’s car window slowly rolled back up.
Chi Yan: “?”
Xingze waved from inside the car. “If there are no other issues, I’ll head off. See you tomorrow, Teacher Chi.”
Chi Yan: “…?”
Quite the grudge-holder.
________________________
Back at the apartment, the housekeeper was tidying up the dining table. When she saw Chi Yan, she suddenly burst into laughter. “You seem happy.”
Chi Yan remained silent for a moment, denying the housekeeper’s observation. “No.”
He glanced at the intricately designed clock on the wall.
It was 8:20 PM.
Only eleven hours and forty minutes until their next meeting.
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