Chapter 3: The Resentful Dudu

“Come on, come on, Director Jiang’s little class is starting.”

He crouched down in front of Chen Duling and pulled out a pen from his pocket, drawing a simple face on a soda can. “Don’t think about ‘I need to act sad.’ Instead, find a small, real event that actually happened.”

“For example, maybe your pet goldfish died, or you messed up an exam and got scolded by your parents.”

He twisted the can to reveal another side with a crying face drawn on it. “Borrow the emotions from that memory and use them.”

“This is a simplified version of Stanislavski’s ‘emotional memory’ theory, also called the ‘emotion borrowing method.’ Even professional actors often use this trick.”

Chen Duling looked up, staring blankly at the boy before her.

Sunlight streamed in from the side, outlining Jiang Ye’s sharp features.

His brow bones were slightly prominent, his eye sockets deep-set, and when he smiled, a faint dimple appeared on his right cheek.

Though he wore the most ordinary crew T-shirt, his broad, straight shoulders made him look exceptionally spirited and radiant.

“This guy…” Chen Duling murmured inwardly, “Didn’t he just get admitted to the directing department at Beijing Film Academy?”

Yet the way this boy spoke about acting theory was so articulate, he hardly seemed like an ordinary high school student.

What puzzled her even more was his gaze.

Chen Duling had seen countless looks from boys her age.

Either shy and unable to meet your eyes or carrying an unsettling scrutiny.

But Jiang Ye’s eyes were inscrutable.

They held the unique vigor of an eighteen-year-old, pure and bright like the morning sun in midsummer, yet occasionally flickered with a clarity beyond his years.

Jiang Ye suddenly lowered his voice: “I just talked to Lighting Technician Lao Wang. His daughter has a fever today but is still insisting on working.”

He pointed toward a corner of the set, “You don’t need to cry for Liba La; cry for that little girl who’s waiting for her dad to come home but can’t.”

This was Jiang Ye’s most frequently used guiding technique on set.

Rather than having actors fabricate emotions, help them find a genuine emotional anchor.

In his previous life, he used this method to make countless amateur actors cry their eyes out within three minutes.

Chen Duling suddenly felt it was somewhat absurd.

She, a top science student from a prestigious university, was actually being coached in acting by a high schooler?

But even more absurd was that she found the boy’s words quite reasonable.

“You…” she hesitated, “Are you really just here as an intern assistant script supervisor?”

Her curiosity about the boy stirred.

“Twenty-eighth take, get ready!”

The assistant director’s voice came through.

Jiang Ye quickly handed Chen Duling a tissue. “Remember, good acting is always ‘borrowed sincerity.’”

“Action!”

---

The clapperboard snapped shut again. Chen Duling took a deep breath.

This time, she didn’t deliberately think about Li Er’s sadness but let her gaze wander across the set.

Lighting technician Lao Wang was wiping sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. She recalled Jiang Ye saying his daughter had a fever.

The script supervisor assistant was squatting in a corner, picking at a cold boxed lunch, eyes glued to the monitor.

Even strict Director Su was now sporting two prominent dark circles under his eyes.

“Liba La…” she whispered the line softly, suddenly noticing Lao Wang standing tiptoe on a shaky platform adjusting the lights.

In that moment, a genuine sting of sorrow rose to her nose—these people were paying the price for her lack of professionalism.

The emotion surged...

On the monitor, Chen Duling’s eyes gradually reddened.

Not from technique, but from true self-reproach.

When she said, “How could you just leave like this?” a tear fell unbidden, landing exactly on the “close-up” mark in the script.

“Cut! Perfect!”

Director Su stood up excitedly, “That’s the feeling!”

Applause erupted around the set, but Chen Duling’s first glance went to Jiang Ye in the corner.

The boy gave her a thumbs-up, sunlight outlining a fuzzy halo around him.

“This take’s a wrap! Prepare for the next scene!”

Amid the assistant director’s calls, Chen Duling quietly slipped the soda can with the crying face drawing into her bag.

No one noticed that as the monitor replayed the tearful scene, Jiang Ye looked at the screen and smiled knowingly.

The best performances always begin with a genuine touch.

---

Jiang Ye just withdrew his gaze when suddenly a fragrance caught him off guard.

“Ouch!” Ma Siyun appeared out of nowhere, almost hitting him in the face with a coconut she was holding. “Xiao Jiang, I specially brought this for you. Thought it’d be nice, right?”

Jiang Ye scrambled to catch the coconut, quickly scanning the surroundings.

Luckily, Ou Hao wasn’t nearby; for the moment, this brother was safe!

“Why didn’t you reply when I messaged you?” Ma Siyun tilted her head, her fingertip gently poking his arm.

“Busy… busy clapping the slate!” Jiang Ye tactically took three steps back. “Thank you, Teacher Ma!”

“Teacher Ma nothing…” Ma Siyun pouted, “Just call me Chun Chun in private.”

Jiang Ye almost choked on his own saliva. “No way! Teacher Ma, I’m a newbie just starting out—I have to know the rules!”

He straightened up seriously. “Director Gao always stresses the importance of hierarchy and manners on set…”

Ma Siyun: “Not here with me…”

Just as Jiang Ye was about to lose it, a cool voice came from behind.

“Jiang Ye.”

Chen Duling stood by the edge of the set, her cheeks still flushed from crying earlier. “Didn’t you promise to help me move something?”

Jiang Ye felt as if a great mercy had been granted. “Right, right! Teacher Ma, I’ve got to get going!”

He dashed to Chen Duling’s side, lowering his voice: “Thanks for saving me…”

Chen Duling kept her eyes forward, walking ahead. “You help me once, I help you get out of trouble. Even.”

Jiang Ye just breathed out in relief when she suddenly stopped and turned to look at him.

“But…”

“More to say?”

“What did you call me this morning?” Chen Duling squinted slightly, “Dudu?”

She took a half step forward. “You little script supervisor, don’t you know to call me Teacher Chen?”

“Who just said they’re a newbie who has to follow rules and be polite?”

Jiang Ye: “…”

He stood frozen, watching Chen Duling’s slender figure walking away.

Her outline was perfect in the sunlight, her steps elegant like a proud white swan.

How could this woman even remember such a grudge?!

What about the vulnerability during the crying scene?

What about the fragile little bunny crushed by all the retakes?

Sure enough, women’s acting talent was innate…

---

Meanwhile, as Chen Duling left the set, she suddenly recalled Jiang Ye’s wide-eyed stunned expression earlier.

His eyes were round as saucers, mouth slightly open—like a startled husky.

She couldn’t help but chuckle.

Sea breeze brushed her softly curled hair, sunlight dancing across her porcelain skin.

In that moment, tear traces from the crying scene still shimmered at the corners of her eyes, but a playful smile curled her lips.

Her cool demeanor instantly came alive, like a small fish leaping from the ice-melting lake.

“Such a little brat…”

She murmured to herself, fingers unconsciously twisting a lock of hair.

“And yet he dares to act like an old pro in front of me.”

Thinking back to how he casually called her “Dudu” that morning, Chen Duling ground her teeth.

Though he had helped her moments ago, that was one thing.

Seeing him put on that “I really know acting” pose in front of her, she couldn’t help but feel an urge to poke holes in his act.

Just like in high school when boys boasted in math class, she always couldn’t resist throwing cold water on them.

“If you dare call me that again next time…”

She glanced back at Jiang Ye still standing there dumbfounded, her mood suddenly brightened, “I’ll just let him embarrass himself a few more times.”