Chapter 34: Surfing the Web

After the broadcast of The Smiling, Proud Wanderer.

With its grand battle scenes and stunning real-location filming, it attracted countless viewers, as it was touted as a massive production with a budget of forty million, and everyone was curious about how it would perform.

Immediately following was a rapid collapse in reputation.

With the Lü Songxian version as a benchmark, this version was inevitably compared in every possible way.

Li Erpeng bore the brunt.

He faced nearly mocking criticism.

The Qingcheng Sect, led by Yu Canghai, was also attacked, but not due to regional bias.

It simply felt too jarring.

Why don’t the Huashan Sect members speak Shaanxi dialect? Why shouldn’t the Songshan Sect members speak Henan dialect? And where did they put the Fujian dialect of the Fwei Biaoju ?

The flashy face-changing and the absurdly funny grass skirt dance.

Were also wildly ridiculed.

Suddenly, opinions were divided, and even Xu Qing’s age was mocked.

Being blacklisted is still being noticed.

The viewership of The Smiling, Proud Wanderer remained strong, climbing steadily.

Amidst a storm of criticism.

Li Luo’s portrayal of Lin Pingzhi stood out alone, one of the few praised highlights, earning much acclaim for his agile, fluid martial arts and his psychological transformation under humiliation.

“I love this version of Lin Pingzhi—it’s true to the character.”

“As a novel fan, this actor brought Lin Pingzhi to life—from the wealthy young master to his downfall, his performance was excellent. I’m looking forward to his self-castration scenes.”

“Going to eat, 886.”

“It feels like the novel’s text was written specifically for this actor.”

“Does anyone know this actor’s name? Oh, I’m a girl.”

“His name is Li Luo.”

Watching the messages in Xin Lang’s chatroom, Li Luo chuckled as he typed a reply, then shut down his computer.

Though the internet was still in its early days.

The number of netizens was already substantial.

At the time, chatting in portal website chatrooms was the most popular pastime.

After reading the portal news, Li Luo couldn’t resist jumping into the chatroom to mingle, subtly boosting his own popularity—he couldn’t yet show off in public, but seeing people praise him online felt wonderfully satisfying.

【Feeling great, another pleasant day】

【Indulgence successful】

【Reward: Acting Experience +10】

The system notification flashing before his eyes made him laugh out loud.

Hearing footsteps approaching outside.

He quickly wiped the smile off his face.

“Xiao Luo.” The door opened, Xu Qing forced a smile: “I’ve packed up everything you brought home.”

She was not only criticized in the newspapers for pretending to be young, but now even her lover was leaving Beijing.

Her mood was truly poor.

“Hey.”

Li Luo hurried forward, pulling her into his arms: “Don’t listen to the newspapers—they’re talking nonsense. You’re not young at all; in my eyes, you’re perfect. You played Ren Yingying so well.”

“Really not young?”

Xu Qing looked up, her eyes pleading.

After all, he was so much younger than her—this was what she cared about most.

“Mm.”

Li Luo nodded firmly, then quickly shook his head: “No, you’re really mature—I love it.”

As he spoke, his hand slipped down.

“You’re terrible.”

Xu Qing burst into laughter, playfully wriggling her waist.

Having been relentlessly pursued day after day, the Beijing girl felt overwhelmed; seeing Li Luo’s eyes burn with desire again, she quickly diverted his attention: “The plane’s about to board—let’s go!”

They dragged a suitcase filled with local gifts.

Together, they drove to the airport.

Just before getting out of the car, Xu Qing stopped him, kissed him deeply, then handed him a mask she’d prepared in advance.

“I don’t need this, do I?”

He scratched his head, thinking she was overcautious.

It was just a TV drama.

Wearing this looked too showy—people might think he was insanely famous.

“Trust me,” Xu Qing picked up the mask and carefully put it on him: “The Smiling, Proud Wanderer is being discussed everywhere, and it’s broadcast nationwide. Are you sure no one will recognize you?”

“Alright.”

Li Luo shrugged.

Under Xu Qing’s reluctant gaze, he walked straight into the airport.

After a short wait at check-in, he quickly passed through the VIP lane to first class, sat comfortably in his spacious seat, removed the mask, and pulled out his Nokia 3310 to send Xu Qing a text.

All his attire and flight ticket were arranged by her.

Since arriving in Beijing.

He had hardly spent any money himself.

Even though he had shown gratitude through actions, verbal appreciation couldn’t be omitted.

“The plane is about to take off.”

A soft voice came from behind; the flight attendant walked up slowly: “Please fasten your seatbelts. Sir, please turn off your phone. Thank you!”

“Sorry.”

Li Luo pressed the power button.

“Lin Pingzhi?”

The beautiful flight attendant covered her mouth, eyes sparkling with delight.

Seeing this, he blinked in confusion and nodded.

Once the flight stabilized, one flight attendant after another came over and knelt beside him.

Smiling brightly, they handed him pens for autographs.

For the first time in his life, he signed autographs—on a plane, from beautiful young flight attendants—the sense of fulfillment was overwhelming.

In April, the Beijing Film Academy entrance exam results were officially released.

Although his vocal performance dragged him down, he still secured third place.

The doors of the Beijing Film Academy were already half open.

Next came the college entrance exam.

After the third round of auditions, Hu Xuan specifically spoke with Li Luo, urging him not to slack off in academics—he didn’t want to miss such a rare talent.

After returning home, Li Luo focused and studied hard.

Although the Beijing Film Academy’s acting department had a low admission score, he still wanted to score as high as possible.

It would look good to tell others later.

Time flew, and it was already July.

Cicadas buzzed, the sun scorched the earth, and the 2001 college entrance exam officially began—thousands upon thousands rushed toward the narrow bridge, fighting to carve out a path to change their fates.

Among these determined figures was Li Luo.

Though confident.

He did not slacken for a moment.

Even with the system, Li Luo believed one must give everything to every task—when you fool around with life, life will eventually fool you back.

Inside the exam hall, students wrote furiously.

Outside, people from all walks of life provided support.

Anyone passing near the school instinctively lowered their footsteps, afraid of disturbing the examinees.

Three days passed quickly.

When Li Luo stepped out of the exam hall, his first sight was his parents, waiting anxiously.

With full confidence.

He smiled and pulled them both into his arms.

After the Beijing Film Academy’s acting department admission score was announced, Xu Qing immediately called Li Luo: 208 points—the cutoff made him laugh; even if he lost half his score, he’d still be safe.

His score of 605 barely qualified for a second-tier university.

But it far exceeded the Beijing Film Academy’s admission line.

Scoring in the six hundreds gave him, and his family, a satisfying answer.

By September.

After spending months at home, Li Luo packed his bags and headed back to Beijing.

But this time.

It was with a completely different identity.