Chapter Three: Rapid Advancement

The next day, Father Zhang still took out the sheet music for "The Wind Rises," roughly piecing together a complete song. He planned to register it at the first floor of the Provincial Daily building before heading to work.

Although this song didn’t convince Father Zhang entirely, it lent more weight to Zhang Qianjun’s words. If there were more time, Zhang Qianjun was willing to patiently persuade his parents and prepare for the art entrance exam.

But on October 2nd, the timing was tight. Art and sports categories for the college entrance exam were about to begin, and at the end of the year, the Capital Film Academy would open online registration. The exam would start on February 21st, leaving Zhang Qianjun little time.

Therefore, he had to race against the clock to create as many advantages as possible for himself. His greatest resource for now was his parents, so he resolved to keep pushing his father, fighting for strong and resolute support.

“Dad, look, I really have talent in this area. The art exam ends on February 24th. After that, I can focus entirely on my studies and aim for better results in the general college entrance exam. Even if I don’t pass the art exam, it won’t affect my regular university entrance.”

“Dad, I only need to take a few days off to go to the capital. I’ve set my goal and shown my talent. Now, I just need my dearest father’s support to chase my dream for once. This summer, let me bring my talent to the entertainment industry.”

“After the art exam, no matter the results, I will give my all, using every minute and every second to improve my cultural subjects.”

“Dad, in these two months, I’ve never been clearer about what I want. Even if I fail this year, I’ll repeat a year. Whether it’s art or academics, I’m confident I can pass.”

“Besides, I’m composing a few songs. When the time comes, you can guide me. Maybe your son will be the next Zhou Naicha of Qiantang!”

“Comrade Zhang Chunri, if you don’t support me this time and let me down, beware—I’ll expose your gold coins later!”

“Dad, love me once more!!!”

Old Zhang was annoyed beyond words, but after much consideration, he finally decided to give it a try and asked his dutiful son what support he needed.

“First, Dad, prepare 100,000 yuan. Don’t give me that look—I know you have it. Your U-Shield was set up by me!”

“Then, contact Uncle Zhao. Ask my good uncle to find out which art exam training institution is the best. I want to enroll in a crash course. Also, ask where they take good photos—I need to take pictures for my application.”

“Lastly, and this is the simplest, Dad, it’s time to show your masculine charm—win over Mom!”

Father Zhang’s expression shifted from shock to relief, then to sheer displeasure. Through clenched teeth, he muttered:

“Winning over your mother is the easiest thing? Easy my foot! You really are my good eldest son!”

“Let’s put aside the difficulty for now. Let’s start simple. I’ll call Uncle Zhao now and ask where to take good photos—I want to get some cool shots.”

“Foolish! I’ll call Old Zhao myself and arrange for an art exam teacher to explain how to take professional photos, then go shoot afterward.”

“You’re the wise one, Dad. Your logic is clear.”

“Get lost~”

How Father Zhang and Mother Zhang communicated, and how many promises were made, no one knows. Eventually, Mother Zhang agreed to let him take the art exam, but clearly stated that after the exam, he must intensify his general studies—preparing both paths.

The following months were both novel and tedious. Zhang Qianjun spent 40,000 yuan enrolling in a well-established art exam crash course. He used every minute he could, rarely taking leave from school.

The training teachers tailored the program to his situation, focusing heavily on recitation, lines, and impromptu skits, while singing and dancing classes were more like formalities.

According to the art exam instructors, even if he couldn’t become an actor, with his singing and dancing skills, he could probably make a living as a minor singer.

Finally, on February 20th, accompanied by his parents, the family of three arrived in the capital. They found a decent hotel near the Film Academy and settled in, preparing for the art exam the next day.

At 8 p.m., resting alone in the hotel room, Zhang Qianjun’s mind was suddenly filled again with that distinctive electronic voice.

“Beep, host transformation complete. Appearance and physical fitness have reached the average level of protagonists in Huayu entertainment universes. System activation conditions met. System has activated. Current system points: 0.”

The long-absent voice finally sounded in his mind—the system had responded.

Though Zhang Qianjun had felt physical changes since the day after the system first appeared—his appetite increased, metabolism sped up, he frequently moved between the cafeteria, bathhouse, and restroom—his muscle mass grew while his body fat inexplicably decreased.

His breathing became steady and deep; his heartbeat slow yet powerful. After more than two years of no growth, he gained five centimeters in just over a hundred days. His physique shifted from a broad, stocky fighter’s build to a slender, tall model-like frame. His features became more harmonious, his skin smoother, and the symmetry of his face astonishingly precise.

Even his parents noticed. They said after he started the art exam training, his complexion improved markedly. His mother remarked that he was finally blossoming at eighteen.

Sometimes Zhang Qianjun wondered if this was an entertainment industry system or a superhuman enhancement system—everything was evolving toward higher, faster, and stronger standards. It seemed the initial evolution given by systems across the various universes was consistent: strength, agility, and physique—the three essentials—did not deceive.

Currently, the system interface in his mind was extremely simple, showing only three fields:

System points: 0

Rechargeable film projects: None

Double recharge effect: 1 time (to be used before December 31, 2010)

Zhang Qianjun looked it over and roughly understood.

System points represented the value generated from his activities in the entertainment industry, though the exact calculation was unclear. Rechargeable film projects meant he could spend points to guarantee box office for a film project, similar to a buyout guarantee from a distribution company. Whether the actual box office would exceed that was uncertain.

The double recharge effect was easy to grasp—it meant recharging once counted as twice. This pushed him to star in a film lead role before the end of the year.

Sure enough, with a system came benefits, but also servitude. ┓(´∀`)┏

Putting the system aside for now, Zhang Qianjun reviewed his mock exams in his head, then went to bed early to conserve energy for the upcoming three days of testing.

The next morning, he arrived early at the Film Academy’s gate. Once it opened, he followed the crowd straight to the main performance building B, then endured a long wait.

“Son, you finally came out! How did the exam go?”

After the day’s test, Zhang Qianjun met his waiting parents outside the school.

“No need to pick me up—I know the way and can read maps.”

“Tomorrow is the retest. This morning was recitation and a skit. I performed normally, just average. In the afternoon, vocals and movement—I totally dominated. I hit such high notes the judges were stunned. One even asked if I’d competed in the Youth Singing Contest.”

“For movement, I performed the routine we practiced: battle steps, power moves, fixed poses. The whole hall went silent!”

“The one where you spin on the ground like a top? You really did that?”

“Yeah, Teacher Zhu said my impromptu acting was weak. To stand out, I had to excel in singing and dancing. As long as I didn’t mess up, I’d pick the most explosive moves to leave a strong impression. Passing the art exam is already half done.”

Zhang Qianjun thought, this evolved body was incredible. Before, he could imagine but not do it; now, he could do it but never imagined. His talent overflowed.

“My son Zha is amazing! Tonight we’ll go to Quanjude for roast duck—let’s have the real deal!”

“Um, Mom, maybe not. I’m afraid of diarrhea after eating roast duck... If I get sick tomorrow, it’ll ruin everything.”

“Really? Then let’s eat something light and get some rest.”

The night passed quietly. The next day’s retest was also easily passed, leading to the final day’s third test.

While waiting, a middle-aged man around thirty-five with thick hair walked to the judge’s podium and announced the third test’s assignment.

“Attention, candidates. Today’s test is group acting. Everyone here has shown excellence in various areas. For group acting, don’t be constrained by conventional interpretations. Use your creativity. The first scene is ‘Zoo.’ You have one minute to prepare.”

As mentioned earlier, impromptu acting was Zhang Qianjun’s weak point. He had little time for training in this area, so this test was the hardest for him.

Zhang Qianjun thought: ‘Zoo? How do you act a zoo? Play a gorilla carrying eggs while running? What now? Maybe watch others first? Stay calm, Zhu’s advice: quickly decide your role, then focus on two points: first, attract attention; second, make it contextual. Zoo scenes? Visitors watching animals?’

While Zhang Qianjun hesitated, the man with thick eyebrows and hair, whose hairline could make even prominent figures jealous, announced the start.

Before Zhang Qianjun could decide, someone moved. A girl with a single ponytail and darker skin leapt from the stage with a loud thud, then began roaring fiercely like a tigress, her voice so loud it stunned nearly a hundred candidates.

‘Damn, so intense?!’ Zhang Qianjun was shocked. That was Xiaoxue, already famous, yet still working so hard during the exam. No wonder she’s one of the two top post-90s female stars among the popular four.

‘What do I do now? Got it.’ He looked at the radiator pipe on the wall, jumped up, grabbed it with one arm, and hung there, glancing left and right.

“Stop! That’s the end of the first test,” said the judge, Mr. Wang, smiling from the center podium.

“Yang Zi, your tigress had such a fierce temper! We were startled just sitting down here.” After commenting on Yang Zi, Mr. Wang asked, “Number 99, what were you acting? A monkey?”

“Yes, sir. Yang was the tigress, and I was the monkey scared by her…”

“Your monkey moves were agile, but lacked finesse. Your strength was good. Rather than a monkey, you looked more like a gorilla. You need to study more to enrich your acting repertoire.”

After the first test, the judges had a good idea of which students to accept. The thick-haired man returned to the stage and announced the second test:

“Dream.”

Only then did Zhang Qianjun realize, compared to this exam, last life’s “I Am an Actor” show was tame. This exam was truly a madhouse.

There were all sorts of performances—some sang, some muttered nonsense. Yang Zi was shouting and charging on stage, no one knew what plot she was following. Zhang Qianjun didn’t care—he decided to act out a nightmare of Zhang Songwen waking up scared, something he had practiced.

Soon, the proctor called an end to the exam. The three days of art exams were over. While students exited, the proctors began scoring and selecting.

“Director Wang, please assign this Zhang Qianjun to Class One. Class Two already has Xiaoxue and Liu Xing. Class One needs someone with star potential.”

After the students left, the thick-haired man began discussing requests with Wang Jinsong.

“Xiang, are you sure this kid will be a star?”

Wang smiled and teased, “Of course. Handsome, tall, great physique. Whether in costume or modern clothes, he’s a natural model. His singing is good, and his dancing is even more impressive.”

“Right,” a female teacher beside Wang agreed. “I don’t really understand the dance, but it reminds me of the street dance competitions on sports channels. Many contestants aren’t as good as him. I bet he’d win prizes in those contests.”

“Well, we still need a group decision, Xiang. I’ll do my best.”

“Master, please take care of this.”

“Call me by my title at work!”

Hearing this, Xiang thought, here we go—he’s back to being ‘master.’ Better cooperate.

“Alright, Deputy Director Wang.”