Chapter 14
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After this performance, the evaluators were visibly stirred. Was there really someone this gifted? Lin Hao’s background, at a glance, seemed unremarkable—so what if he really developed this talent? The possibilities were… astonishing.
Chang Li was taken aback. She remembered how, after performing with Liu Ye last time, Lin Hao had been so remorseful about not doing well; she’d thought nothing of it then. Yet today, his performance, while still revealing a notable gap next to an actor like Chen Baoguo, showed remarkable skill.
In this brief segment, Lin Hao delivered his lines without error, engaged his mind fully, and displayed impressive adaptability. And how young was he?
“Have you acted before?” Chen Baoguo asked.
Lin Hao responded, “Not professionally, but I’ve always loved acting. I often made up my own scenes and acted them out on my own. Mostly, I would mimic people on TV, but I had lots of bad habits. My after-school teacher helped me correct a lot of those.”
Chang Li suddenly understood. No wonder Teacher Tian had mentioned how Lin Hao had initially been filled with mannerisms. So that was why. She didn’t reveal this, though, waiting for her student to speak.
Chen Baoguo nodded and said, “Hmm, you do show some talent, but don’t get arrogant. There were issues with your performance that you probably noticed yourself, but they’re not major. Keep working at it.”
“Yes, Teacher,” Lin Hao nodded in response.
Once he’d finished speaking, Chang Li finally chimed in, “Alright, now we’ll begin the formal performance!”
Lin Hao’s eye twitched. What?! He’d just poured all his energy into that, and it wasn’t even the official exam yet? Now he had to go again, right away? He thought, Oh no!
…
The evaluators organized the participants into groups of three to perform a short play called Supermarket Troubles, an improvised piece. Lin Hao felt himself spiraling inside, but outwardly he remained calm and composed, jumping right into the performance.
Maybe because of his previous showing, the other two participants cooperated reasonably well. Although they didn’t shine particularly brightly, they managed to keep up, avoiding any unexpected intrusions that might throw the scene off balance.
In improvisational acting, everyone must cooperate, relying on quick thinking to respond. Lin Hao excelled at feeding the others cues, and to their credit, they managed to keep up—a respectable feat in itself.
The evaluators? Their attention was glued to Lin Hao. In a pool of six candidates, it was clear that Lin Hao was their top choice for this group.
The other candidates knew it too. Unlike Lin Hao, who had put all his focus into the Central Academy, some had backup options. And seeing how things were shaping up for Lin Hao, they decided not to fight it. Instead, they opted to support the performance, hoping that good teamwork might still serve them well.
So, the skit went off decently. Lin Hao performed solidly, playing the foil while the others took the spotlight. Yet, it felt as if he were a judge, feeding the others their lines and helping them shine.
After this third and final trial, the other candidates left, nervous but resigned. Lin Hao, meanwhile, received a small favor—a student came by to let him know he’d been invited to a dinner that evening at a local family-style restaurant.
…
Getting that message, Lin Hao was sure he’d secured a place.
Relieved, he went home, where no one awaited him. He guessed that Xu Wei wouldn’t be back anytime soon, so he took a well-deserved nap. He’d woken up early, and now, after the exam, he felt relaxed. His idea of unwinding was to make up for lost sleep from the night before.
When he woke up at two in the afternoon, he’d already told the family cook not to prepare lunch for him since he’d be eating out. The house was empty and strangely quiet.
Even though he was almost certain he’d been admitted to the Central Academy, Lin Hao felt a vague emptiness inside.
He understood why. This era didn’t feel like home; he felt like a drifter with nowhere to settle, and no one who truly understood. That sense of isolation often weighed on him heavily, leaving him helpless.
“Lin Hao,” he murmured to himself.
The only thing he had left from his past was his name. There was no cell phone, no computer, no endless stream of fresh information. A song once said, “In the past, everything was slow.” With his vivid memories of a different life, going back to “the past” was both dull and disorienting.
…
At 3 p.m., he went out to eat and bought some fruit.
The Huoguosi neighborhood had a variety of food options, and he found something satisfactory. After his meal, he went for a jog along a park trail and returned with some fruit. Fresh fruit was scarce these days, but it was better than nothing.
At four o’clock, he cleaned up, making himself look neat and presentable. Arriving early, he ordered a few dishes and paid upfront. The owner, not used to seeing someone pay in advance, especially a large sum, was a bit surprised.
“That’s more than enough, even for seven or eight people!” the owner exclaimed.
Lin Hao chuckled, “It’s alright. We can square up later. I trust you.”
Amused, the owner assured him, patting his chest, “You can count on me. The meal is on Lin Hao, and any extra payments from others won’t be accepted.”
Around six, his teachers, including Chen Baoguo, arrived. Lin Hao had been waiting for them.
“Hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long?” Chang Li asked.
Lin Hao rubbed his nose and replied, “Not at all. I had a nice chat with the owner while waiting.”
Once everyone was seated, Lin Hao recognized several instructors, including his tutors for dialogue, physical expression, and vocal training. There was also a sense of kinship among them all.
They didn’t discuss much, though most of the conversation was about various questions for Lin Hao, which he answered earnestly. When it came time to pay, they discovered he’d already taken care of it. Lin Hao, with a balance of tact and humor, hosted the gathering, which ended on a high note.
And so, Lin Hao’s arts exams wrapped up, leaving only the final results to await.
…
January came to a close, and February ushered in a holiday season—New Year’s. Lin Hao’s uncle Tian Hu, a soldier, finally took leave to spend the holiday with him, as Lin Hao lived alone.
Lin Hao hadn’t felt much about this initially, but when his uncle, who was only eight years older than him, arrived, he found the connection deeply comforting. Family really is an anchor, as they say, and Tian Hu’s warm, genuine care was something Lin Hao hadn’t experienced in a while.
But reunions are short-lived; soon enough, his uncle returned to duty, and the holiday ended, with Lin Hao diving into his final high school semester. The class was abuzz with the looming college entrance exams, each student racing toward that pivotal day.
In March, Lin Hao received the Central Academy exam results and his admission letter. Despite his busy schedule, he gathered the tutors and older students who had helped him, treating them to a celebratory meal. The atmosphere was joyful, with everyone congratulating him on his top marks in the academy’s exams while reminding him not to slack off in his academic studies. Lin Hao agreed wholeheartedly.
And so, April and May flew by, bringing him to the ultimate test: the college entrance exams, the single fairest chance most people had at shaping their futures.