Chapter 724: Jiaojiao 4
Tan You sat beside her. "What’s got you so happy? Feeling a sense of accomplishment?"
"Yeah," Chen Jiao said, taking a huge bite of her chicken leg. "Work always used to just push me along. I never felt in control like I did today. It suddenly hit me... it’s been a really long road."
Tan You gave her a pep talk. "Right now, you’re the one getting a reward from someone else. One day, you’ll be the one handing out bonuses."
Chen Jiao’s mouth was still full of chicken, but her eyes were already shining like lightbulbs. "Really? I’ll be even better than the director someday?"
"Of course. With me here, I’ll definitely teach you everything you need to know." Tan You’s gaze was gentle. "As long as you study hard, you’ll surpass many people. Your director’s skill level... compared to mine, who do you think is better?"
"You’re better, Teacher!" Chen Jiao said without hesitation. "Teacher, hehe, I’ll definitely study hard."
Tan You loved Chen Jiao’s optimistic personality. "Good. Hurry and eat. We’ll keep at it this afternoon."
They wrapped up early that day. It wasn’t even five o’clock when the director called it a day. Unlike her usual dejection, Chen Jiao was ecstatic when they finished. She hadn’t been yelled at once, nor had she held up the filming schedule, which made her feel an incredible sense of accomplishment.
But that sense of accomplishment vanished into thin air the moment she saw the script Tan You transmitted to her. As Chen Jiao went through the script in her mind, she had to admit that her pitiful acting skills were nowhere near good enough to do justice to her teacher’s script.
"Teacher..." Since Tan You had transmitted the script directly into Chen Jiao’s brain, she received it instantly, every single word practically engraved in her mind.
She was a very optimistic girl. Even when she felt down, she could bounce back quickly—a typical ray of sunshine. Now, she was already asking about something else. "This script of yours... has it ever won an award?"
Tan You nodded. "It has. An international award for Best Screenplay."
"Oh my god! Teacher, you’re incredible!" Chen Jiao shrieked. "Does... does this mean if I perform well in this movie, I could win an award too?"
"Teacher, tell me more! What were its past glories?"
Seeing her curiosity, Tan You couldn’t help but want to talk about it. "Back then, this script won awards for Best Director and Best Screenplay, but not for Best Actress..."
"It wasn’t that the actress wasn’t outstanding, but the competition that year was fierce. There were too many amazing works..."
Chen Jiao had become a total fangirl. "For you to still win an award with competition like that, Teacher, you’re just... so, so, so amazing! Teacher, you’re my god!"
Tan You chuckled, amused. She hadn’t expected Chen Jiao to be using an internet meme from the future already.
"So, you need to work hard," she said, lightly tapping Chen Jiao’s forehead. "You’ve seen the script. Now it’s time to polish your acting."
"When your acting is up to par, I will guide you in shooting this film."
Chen Jiao was fired up. She rolled over on her big bed. "Don’t you worry, Teacher! I’ll definitely work my butt off to perfect my acting!"
’This was a script that had won so many major awards! I can’t tarnish my teacher’s name!’
Tan You was in a good mood, so she made a casual promise. "If you do well, I’ll help you make a lot of money. You won’t have to worry about your dad, Chen Qing’s, medical bills anymore. Once you’re more financially stable, I’ll find him an even better doctor..."
Before she could even finish, Chen Jiao stumbled and fell hard against the bay window. She had been trying to give Tan You a big bear hug, but since Tan You was a spiritual entity, she obviously couldn’t embrace her.
Despite the clumsy fall against the bay window, Chen Jiao was laughing through her tears. "Really?"
Tan You reassured her. "Your dad, Chen Qing, is the bond that connects us. Of course I want him to live a long and healthy life. After all, I need to see you walk your flowery road to success."
"Yeah," Chen Jiao sniffled. "Teacher, we’ll walk that flowery road together."
After receiving the script, Chen Jiao really wanted to study it in detail, but the show she was currently filming was also very important. So, she could only sneak in moments to read the script whenever she had a spare second.
She wasn’t used to reading a script in her head, so she started bringing a large notebook to the set. Whenever she wasn’t needed for a scene, she would just write and write in it.
She would go through the script in her mind and write it out, word for word, essentially transcribing it. But as she copied it, Chen Jiao felt her understanding of the script deepening with every line.
Nobody thought Chen Jiao’s behavior was strange. It was common for actors to write character analyses. The entertainment industry back then wasn’t as superficial as it would become; there were still people who could quiet their minds and focus on the craft of acting.
And so, Chen Jiao continued to "transcribe" the script while filming. After five days, she had only managed to copy down the first third. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to write more; she was just incredibly busy.
She would wake up at six a.m. sharp to practice dancing, then head to the set to film. During breaks, she would study with the senior actors in the cast. After a long day, when filming finally wrapped, she still had to prepare for the next day’s scenes.
So, in an entire day, the time Chen Jiao had to transcribe the script amounted to less than three hours in total. On top of that, she would often pause after just a few lines to contemplate how she should perform that part, slowing her progress even further.
Tan You didn’t stop her. ’The faintest ink is better than the best memory,’ she thought. ’If Chen Jiao wants to transcribe it, then let her. It’s not like I can materialize a physical copy for her out of thin air.’
’Besides, I can’t show my face in this world, so the credit for being the screenwriter will have to go to Chen Jiao. As for whether she can handle that pressure... well, she’ll have to.’
The assistant director raised a megaphone and shouted, "Chen Jiao, get ready for the next scene!"
Chen Jiao, who had been staring blankly at her notebook, was jolted back to reality. "Oh, coming!"
She hurriedly closed her notebook, placed it on her backpack which was on a lounge chair, and then ran toward the center of the set. Just as she turned, a prop master walked past, carrying a large box.
The corner of the large box accidentally bumped Chen Jiao’s small chair, and the notebook on it fell open to the title page. On it were two words: *Prison, Tyrant*. Underneath them was a name: Qingyou.
Zhang Ping came out of the restroom, shaking his hands dry. He pulled a tissue from his pocket as he walked toward the set. It seemed he’d eaten something that disagreed with him; he’d already run to the bathroom three times that morning.
GURGLE... Just as he reached the actors’ rest area, Zhang Ping’s stomach rumbled again. He instinctively doubled over, clutching his abdomen. He was about to turn back to the restroom when his eyes accidentally fell upon a notebook on a chair.
The notebook was about A4-sized. On the top line, in large script, were two words: *Prison, Tyrant*. On the second line, in smaller letters, was the name Qingyou. Zhang Ping didn’t think much of it and was about to head back to the restroom to finish his business.
Just then, a light breeze blew past, and with a FLUTTER, the notebook’s page turned. Zhang Ping couldn’t help but glance at it. That one glance was enough to captivate him, making him completely forget the churning chaos in his stomach.