Chapter 382

The mirror wall was covered in a thin layer of mist, and the sweat stains on the floor varied in depth.

Two actresses leaned against the railing, panting heavily. Beads of sweat the size of peas rolled down their necks, and their thin practice clothes were already half-soaked.

To the side, Cheng Nianjia and two directors watched the playback recording, whispering to each other.

"It feels a bit too intense: the flower-board steps (short steps) are too hurried, and the cloud steps (horizontal steps) have too wide a range—"

"Furthermore, the duration is too long!"

"If it isn't intense, how can we express the emotional tension? If it isn't hurried, how can it fit the theme?"

"But Director Qiu, before we arrange the program, must we consider the actors' physical stamina?" Cheng Nianjia propped up her chin, "Xiao Yu and Xiao Yang are already considered to have some of the best physical conditions in the troupe, and they are already this exhausted?"

"It's fine, they are the leads, not the others! The supporting dancers don't have as many movements as they do!"

"It's them that I'm worried about—" Cheng Nianjia sighed, "Director Qiu, you surely understand better than I do: once on stage, an actor's physical consumption is far greater than during rehearsals. If an accident happens, wouldn't that be counterproductive?"

The two directors wanted to retort, but the words reached their lips and were swallowed back down.

Cheng Nianjia had only been transferred from the Second Troupe after the incident occurred; she had nothing to do with the performance accident at the Capital Steelworks, and she could accept the Spring Festival program being arranged more ordinarily.

But they could not accept it: the label of plagiarism was not something anyone could afford to wear.

Although there was no public announcement and it was only handled internally, "three men make a tiger" and "public opinion can melt gold"; they had to produce a work convincing enough in the shortest time possible.

Otherwise, this label would only become more firmly attached.

At the thought of this, the two wanted to grit their teeth: it was all Jing Zeyang's fault—

"Let's change it, at least shorten the duration—or better yet, let's discuss it again and design a new plan—"

"Section Chief Cheng, with only two months, how could we possibly make it in time?"

It was indeed a bit rushed.

"You never know, in a few days, other sections might come up with better works; perhaps there will be a surprise!"

Cheng Nianjia gestured to the side, "Isn't the room next door choreographing?"

Next door, Jing Zeyang?

The two directors curled their lips: if it weren't for the two actors still being there, they would have already started cursing.

There are two idioms that put it well: "the donkey of Gui Prefecture has exhausted its tricks" and "a desperate gamble"—that is exactly Jing Zeyang.

They had worked together for nearly a year, so didn't they know exactly what Jing Zeyang was worth? If he could choreograph a dance, the two of them would dare to streak.

This dog of a man was truly out of options and could only go all out.

Qiu Xiumei shook her head: "Section Chief Cheng, it's impossible!"

"Don't be so absolute, what if?" Cheng Nianjia said half-jokingly, "It is, after all, the lost 'Liu Yao'

score."

That was correct, it was a lost ancient score, but it also depended on who was using it.

Moreover, the two of them had glanced at it twice; the score was so fragmented that, let alone Jing Zeyang, even Lan Laotaitai would have to scratch her head.

The two said nothing more, only sighed.

Checking her watch, Cheng Nianjia turned off the monitor and told the two actors to change their clothes: "Xiao Yu, Xiao Yang, it's almost five o'clock. The cafeteria is making beef balls today, go early!"

"Thank you, Group Leader!" The two actors nodded, "Then what time should we come tomorrow, is it still here?"

Cheng Nianjia hesitated: they had arrived at seven and rehearsed all day, resting only for half an hour at noon. Just looking at the sweat on the two girls showed how high the intensity was.

By rights, they shouldn't practice like this again tomorrow. But she also knew that whether it was the two directors or the two principals, they were all holding onto a drive, swearing to wash away their shame.

"Rest well today, let's say eight o'clock tomorrow. Come here first, and we'll see when you arrive!"

"Understood, Section Chief!"

There was a changing room inside, and after a quick rinse, the two actors changed into casual clothes.

Cheng Nianjia and the two directors didn't leave; after they came out, the five of them exited the Bian Dao Shi.

Just across a door, the all-glass kind, Cheng Nianjia subconsciously glanced inside as they passed.

There were only two people; one was the young man she had seen last time, standing by a drawing board, seemingly drawing something.

Jing Zeyang was half-slumped over the table next to him, clutching several sheets of paper in his hand, his brows tightly furrowed, looking as miserable as if his wife had run away.

Upon seeing him like this, Cheng Nianjia wanted to laugh, but she was also somewhat curious: although the Jing Zeyang from before was like this too, compared to then, his complexion was much better; at least he didn't have such heavy dark circles, and there were no bloodshot eyes.

While pondering, she pointed inside: "Looks like he got a new score, shall we go in and take a look?"

The two directors also peered inside: looking at the draft paper on the table, there were indeed more than there had been two days ago.

But to be honest, since it was a lost ancient score, who wouldn't be interested?

Seeing the two not saying a word, Cheng Nianjia understood instantly and pushed the door open directly.

"Creak," the sound was very soft, and the two people turned their heads in unison.

Lin Sicheng only gave a slight nod, his hand continuing to draw without pause.

Jing Zeyang stood up listlessly: "Group Leader, Director Qiu, Director Zhou—"

As for Yu Jingsi and Yang Lin behind her, he couldn't even be bothered to greet them: whenever these two saw him, it was like meeting a mortal enemy. Once their eyes met, they would grit their teeth at him—

Cheng Nianjia smiled: "Xiao Jing, is it alright if we observe?"

"Of course!"

In any case, after it was choreographed, it would have to be submitted anyway, so there was nothing to keep secret.

Not wanting to disturb Lin Sicheng, Cheng Nianjia walked to Jing Zeyang's side.

With just one glance, she was stunned: Huh, it's not a score?

Just like last time, they were all photocopies, but they weren't musical scores or diagrams of dancers, but photocopied pictures.

Some were paintings, the Landscape Pattern kind, and some were photos of murals and stone carvings.

There was even a pot, several sets of figurines, and even a Porcelain Pillow.

The more Cheng Nianjia looked, the stranger she felt: what were all these?

She pointed, Jing Zeyang understood in a second, and sighed dejectedly: "Cultural Relics photos!"

There were the *Zan Hua Shi Nu Tu* from the mid-Tang Dynasty, the *Han Xizai Night Banquet Painting* from the Five Dynasties, as well as the Baisha Song Tomb murals from the Northern Song Dynasty, and the dance illustrations from the Korean *Yue Xue Gui Fan*.

As well as the stone-carved dancing girls from the Song Tomb in Luxian, the dancing girl patterns on the Gold-gilding silver pot with dancing horses holding cups from the Famen Temple Underground Palace, the *Cang Cang Yuan Qi Hui Wu Ren* from the Tang Dynasty—and so on and so forth.

They were all photo copies that Lin Sicheng had entrusted people to retrieve from the Forbidden City and the Shaanxi History Museum over the past two days. Without exception, they were all Cultural Relics remains related to the Lüyaowu.

Cheng Nianjia looked curious: "Photos are just photos, what are you sighing about?"

Jing Zeyang didn't know how to say it: Have you ever tried counting down the days to your own execution?

It wasn't that he regretted it: it was already like this anyway; you get a blade if you stretch your head, and a blade if you shrink it.

He just felt there wasn't much hope, so there was no need to force it. Because more than one person had said so, including the teachers in the troupe, as well as the dance professors and Experts his uncle and second uncle had sought out.

And the rhetoric was shockingly consistent: to say that based on ancient scores, one could restore parts of the dance postures and music, that was still achievable.

Of course, it required time: a few months at the minimum, several years at the maximum.

But if one were to take an ancient, lost score that had appeared for the first time, speculatively choreograph a work, and have it on stage and on screen in three months at most, that was unrealistic.

Not to mention, making General Manager Lan—who was famous in the industry for being strict and famous for her high requirements and high standards—satisfied.

In this way, wouldn't it be equivalent to having already sentenced Jing Zeyang to death?

Actually, the day he patted his chest to agree, he had already mentally prepared himself; the people he invited later and the things they said merely accelerated this process.

But he hadn't expected that even though he himself was prepared to give up, Lin Sicheng had actually taken it seriously?

And what he said made perfect sense: Experts have their unreliable moments too; whether it works or not, choreograph it first and then see.

Then, every day, right on time, just like going to work: he arrived on time, left on time, and even squeezed in a meal at the cafeteria in between.

Jing Zeyang thought, he himself was thick-skinned anyway, so if he lost face, he lost it, but Lin Sicheng was different.

When others saw: the son-in-law of the Ye family, is this all the level he has?

Next time he came to Beijing, he might be treated as a topic of conversation and a laughingstock.

But he couldn't be persuaded?

Seeing him not making a sound, Cheng Nianjia assumed Jing Zeyang was worrying about how to satisfy the old lady, so she didn't pursue the question further.

Looking at the draft papers on the table, she deliberately lightened her steps and walked behind Lin Sicheng.

But she didn't dare to get too close, staying at least six or seven steps away.

Taking a closer look, Cheng Nianjia was stunned again: don't say, he drew quite well, and the key was, he drew extremely fast.

Although she was a layman, she knew at a glance that Lin Sicheng had an extremely high foundation in drawing.

But it was strange: he was drawing pictures of dancers, but not dance postures, because all the people were standing.

The focus was on the clothes the dancers wore and their hairstyles: some were skirts, some were robes, some were round buns, and some were double buns.

If it were the same dance, such a situation would certainly not occur. Looking again at the copies in front of Jing Zeyang, Cheng Nianjia roughly guessed what Lin Sicheng was doing.

Lin Sicheng didn't stop his pen and greeted her in passing: "Group Leader Cheng!"

"Little Lin, am I disturbing you?"

"Not disturbing!"

"What are you drawing?"

"Hairstyles, clothing!"

Cheng Nianjia looked strange: "Aren't you supposed to be choreographing?"

Lin Sicheng smiled: "It doesn't conflict!"

Without having studied the Dunhuang Murals of dancing girls, or to be more precise: those who are not professional researchers of Tang Dynasty Yan Music rarely know:

The ritual systems of the early, middle, and late Tang Dynasties were very different; for the same court dance, the ladies' clothing, hairstyles,

and accessories were all very different.

Which leads to: huge differences between dance steps, body movements, rhythms, music, and so on.

Ordinary people of course wouldn't care, including someone like Cheng Nianjia who professionally studies classical dance, but if professional history and archaeology scholars saw it, they would definitely laugh.

Either don't do it, or do it well. He would have to make a living in Beijing in the future; Lin Sicheng didn't want to be called unprofessional or a hack—

But Cheng Nianjia didn't know he was thinking this; she felt it was better to remind him: "Little Lin, it's been three or four days, is the time enough?"

"Thank you, Group Leader Cheng, it's definitely enough!"

Is it enough?

Even if it were enough, it wasn't certain if he could choreograph it, and even if he could, it wouldn't be performed immediately, so there was no need to nitpick details so early.

But since they weren't close enough for such deep talk, Cheng Nianjia didn't say anything more.

Nearby, two choreographers and actors were watching quietly until Lin Sicheng put down his pen. Choreographer Qiu smiled: "Little Lin, where did you find the information for these clothes, hairstyles, and accessories?"

Taking the tissue handed over by Jing Zeyang, Lin Sicheng wiped his hands: "Cultural Relics, just these on the table!"

The two choreographers were stunned: "Do you have to compare them one by one?"

"Yes! Besides photos, I also have to check historical records, such as the *Tang Liudian*, the *Old Book of Tang: Treatise on Carriages and Clothing*,

the *Zhuang Tai Ji*—"

The two choreographers nodded: they had thought Lin Sicheng was copying from ancient scores.

"You draw quite well, don't you?"

"I've studied some Sketch, and also some traditional Chinese painting, it's alright—"

Two actresses also gathered around: "Student Lin, do you need help, like being a model or something?"

"Doing storyboards is also fine, of course, it has to be after work!"

Lin Sicheng smiled: "I can still manage for now!"

Jing Zeyang stood to the side, feeling both curious and disdainful.

What he felt disdain for was the faces of these four people: when they saw him, they were cold and hostile, snorted through their noses, and were too lazy to even speak.

Upon seeing Lin Sicheng, they greet him with smiles and speak in soft, gentle tones?

What is strange is: they don't really know each other, so where did this sudden familiarity and attentiveness come from?

Just because Lin Sicheng is better looking than them?

Cheng Nianjia watches coldly from the sidelines, smiling without a word: even if it is damaged, it is still the "Six Xie" score.

Not to mention creating any works or winning any gold awards, the value of the reference material alone is exceptionally high.

Therefore, everyone in the troupe, including Editor-in-Chief Lan and Deputy Editor-in-Chief Xiao, whom Lin Sicheng has not yet met, feels grateful toward this friend of Jing Zeyang.

What's more, he is so polite, and besides, he really is quite good-looking.

He is much better received than Jing Zeyang.

Most importantly, they are very curious to see: how will this friend of Jing Zeyang choreograph?

He is not from a professional academy, has no relevant work experience, and is even still a graduate student?

And he is studying Cultural Relics and Archaeology, which has absolutely nothing to do with dance?

To be honest, if they had heard of such a thing before, they would have surely treated it as a joke, because it is simply impossible.

Therefore, working overtime to help is certainly sincere, but curiosity and wanting to watch the spectacle are also real————

Dinner is at 5:30, so there is no rush; Cheng Nianjia and two choreographers flip through the drafts he drew.

Whether they are useful is unknown for now, but at least it can be confirmed that Lin Sicheng has definitely conducted research on ancient clothing.

Many of the things here could even be used as they are.

The two actresses ask one thing after another: "Student Lin, when will you draw the postures and footwork?"

"Tomorrow, perhaps!"

"How will you storyboard it? Have you found the people?"

"I've invited two dance students from the dance academy!"

"You hired them, right?"

"Just about!"

"When the time comes, can we come and take a look?"

"Of course, if it's convenient, you can also offer some guidance————"

"Haha, we wouldn't dare!"

Seeing the two leads covering their mouths and laughing, Jing Zeyang secretly curls his lip again, while thinking about whether he should have Ye Anning come over to make an appearance.

Just as he is muttering to himself, with a "creak," the door to the Bian Dao Shi is pushed open.

One man and three women walk in; the man is a bit older, probably in his fifties, and the three women are younger, all in their twenties.

After entering, the man's gaze sweeps across the faces of the people present: "Which one is Lin Sicheng?"

Lin Sicheng is taken aback for a moment: "That's me!"

"Oh, so young?"

The man mutters a sentence and walks over, "We are from the Beijing Dance Academy. Professor Yan Zhidong asked us to come. My surname is Li!"

Upon hearing Beijing Dance Academy, Lin Sicheng hurriedly goes to greet him: "Professor Li, hello, hello————My teacher was in contact at noon, and Director Yan said you might not be able to come until tomorrow————"

The man smiles: "Nothing going on today, so we came over to take a look first————"

At first, Cheng Nianjia was still suspicious: Beijing Dance Academy, Yan Zhidong————why does this name sound so familiar?

Upon hearing "Director Yan," Cheng Nianjia is suddenly stunned: this person is the Deputy Director of the Classical Dance Department at the Beijing Dance Academy————

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