Chapter One: The Campus of Beijing Film Academy

Mid-October, 2009. On the basketball courts of the Beijing Film Academy, a group of young men basked in the sunlight, sweat gleaming on their foreheads as they played with abandon.

“Chen Ling, pass! Oh, nice one!” The basketball traced a beautiful arc from the half-court logo, soaring across almost half the court before swishing cleanly through the net.

It was a lightning-fast crossover, shaking off the defender for a long-range three-pointer.

“Awesome!”

“Incredible, how many threes is that now?”

“It’s a shame you’re not going pro.”

Their classmates showered him with praise. Months into the new semester, they’d often played together and forged good camaraderie. So, whenever someone hit a great shot, admiration was never in short supply, even between students from different classes.

“If Curry hadn’t yet made his name, you’d all be calling me Curry the Sun God right now,” Chen Ling mused. “No, it should be Chen the Sun God.”

It had been almost a year since Chen Ling crossed into this world, and he’d more or less adapted to life here. After all, this was a path he’d already walked once in his previous life—though, to be fair, his university experience had already diverged from before. Instead of attending the university from his memories, he’d applied for the directing department at the Beijing Film Academy and had been accepted.

Indeed, Chen Ling was someone who’d been reborn, returning from his previous timeline to his senior year of high school.

In his former life, Chen Ling had been admitted to a university in the south. After four years as an undergraduate and three more in graduate school, he’d had two romances. Upon graduation, he’d returned to work at his parents’ factory for a while, then ventured out to start a business.

Later, he dated a model, and under her influence, developed an interest in the entertainment industry, eventually stepping into it. Chen Ling’s looks were above average, even in an industry teeming with attractive people. He also had a good singing voice, often charming girls in college with his guitar.

With his parents’ support, he released albums and acted in TV dramas. Over the years, their factory had grown, and their family was relatively well-off. Investing in a TV series and landing a role wasn’t out of reach.

Yet, for an outsider with only modest means, making it big in that world was almost impossible. Good looks, height, a pleasant voice? Those were just the basics among the thousands who graduated from arts academies every year.

After two self-funded web dramas lost him a fortune, Chen Ling considered leaving showbiz—only for the pandemic to erupt.

The factory shut down, the cash flow dried up, and after a period of barely scraping by, they had no choice but to close the business. Unable to repay their bank loans, the factory and their house were auctioned off by the courts.

Even then, some debts remained. He could only work odd jobs to pay them off. Thankfully, after selling everything, there wasn’t much left to owe.

Through years of thrift, the family managed to repay almost everything. Chen Ling remembered vividly—on his way to pay off the last of their debts at the bank, he encountered a little girl struggling in the water.

A decent swimmer, there was no way he could stand by and do nothing. He dove in to rescue her. His last memory of that life was of the chilly, surging water, and he never did find out if the little girl survived.

Reborn in his senior year, Chen Ling took a few days to confirm he wasn’t dreaming, then spent some time re-planning his life.

In his previous life, his stubborn pursuit of a so-called dream had led to his family’s ruin, leaving them destitute, and himself drowning in the end.

Having been given a second chance, he was determined to make it up to his parents and family. This time, his unfulfilled dreams would be realized. Every experience he missed, he would seek out.

He still harbored regrets about his brief stint in the entertainment industry, so he wanted to try again.

From his stint in the circle, Chen Ling knew that talent alone wasn’t enough; connections were everything. The simplest and most suitable way to break in was to attend a relevant school—so the Beijing Film Academy became his top choice.

He’d made it into a top-tier university before; his grades were solid. Fortunately, the arts entrance exams hadn’t started yet, so there was still time.

He didn’t even consider the acting department at Beijing Film Academy—it was too competitive. He wasn’t a child star or well-connected, and his family, who owned a small factory in the south, made only a few million yuan in annual profits. Impressive for ordinary families, but not enough to buy his way into acting school.

After researching the Academy’s various departments and weighing his strengths and weaknesses, he settled on directing. Thanks to several girlfriends in his previous life who loved dramas and films, he had watched an enormous number of movies.

Having dabbled in the industry, he wasn’t a complete outsider—he counted as a professional, if only just.

What’s more, though he hadn’t found any golden-finger systems since his rebirth, he had made some discoveries that thrilled him.

First, his memory was phenomenal—every film and TV show he’d seen, every person and event he’d experienced in his previous life, he remembered with crystal clarity.

This alone gave him the confidence to aim for the entertainment industry. After all, when it came to major historical trends, his memories sufficed, and for things he’d personally experienced, his recollections were precise. For what he’d only heard of, his impressions were at least vague.

Trying to recreate films and TV from memory would be hard, but his powerful recall gave him an edge.

He also noted improvements in his appearance. In his previous life, acne started for him in his senior year of high school and lasted several years—enough to make him avoid spicy and greasy food in college or staying up late.

Now, his face was smooth and fair, unblemished by acne.

His constitution was much better, too. While he’d been fairly healthy before, it couldn’t compare to now. He’d never had the strength to sink a three-pointer from mid-court, let alone dunk with both hands.

Though he had his past life’s memories to rely on, just to be sure, Chen Ling enrolled in a prep class in Beijing during winter break of senior year.

He made it through the preliminary, secondary, and tertiary exams with only minor scares—after all, all those movies from his past life hadn’t been watched in vain.

Not to mention, he’d seen countless film analyses from top content creators on video platforms, so when it came to answering examiners’ questions during the arts entrance exams, he responded with ease.

The only reason it was a close call was that he’d underestimated the fierce competition. He barely scraped through. If he’d waited a few more years, when the industry closed up even more, it would have been nearly impossible for outsiders to break in.

Now, over a month into the semester, campus life bustled with youth. Having lived two lifetimes, Chen Ling had made many friends without even trying—some of whom would become quite famous in the future.

Take Dou Xiao, for example—a tall, handsome guy who would one day star in Zhang Yimou’s film “Under the Hawthorn Tree.” He was both a good friend and a teammate on the court.

Dou Xiao was great in every way—tall, good-looking, warm-hearted—but his basketball skills left much to be desired. Chen Ling could hardly carry him to victory.

“You guys keep playing—I’ve got class in a bit, so I’ll go shower first,” Chen Ling said, passing the ball to Dou Xiao after another round.

“Don’t you guys in the directing department have the afternoon off?” Dou Xiao wiped the sweat from his forehead, reluctant to see Chen Ling leave. With Chen gone, the replacement’s skills just didn’t compare, and they’d surely lose.

“We’re not even in the same year or major. How could you possibly remember my schedule?” Chen Ling lifted his shirt to wipe his brow, revealing taut abs.

“Alright, just hurry back after class—maybe we’ll still be playing,” Dou Xiao relented. After all, among classmates, winning or losing was just for fun.

“See you,” Chen Ling waved, bidding farewell to his friends before striding off with effortless poise.