Chapter 85: Teacher Wu, Hello!

In the afternoon, in a classroom of the Beijing Film Academy’s teaching building, all students of Class 96 Acting gathered together, chatting in small groups of dorm mates who had just met. It was their first collective gathering since enrollment, waiting for their homeroom teacher, Teacher Cui.

“Hey, Xiao Ming, you’re from Daocheng? I heard people from Shandong can drink—let’s grab a drink sometime, bro?” The big Northeastern man Shi Guanghui slung an arm around Huang Xiaoming.

Huang Xiaoming blinked his big eyes and said seriously, “My mom doesn’t let me drink.”

This left Shi Guanghui speechless. He thought Huang Xiaoming was brushing him off, but the boy’s expression seemed utterly sincere—could he really act that well?

At that moment, another young man walked in through the door, drawing everyone’s attention. Shi Guanghui immediately nudged Zu Feng beside him: “Zu Feng, is this guy from your dorm?”

Zu Feng shook his head: “I’ve never seen him before.”

Huang Xiaoming chimed in: “I saw him at the dorm entrance earlier!”

On the other side, Zhang Jiabei pulled Yan Danchen aside, covering her mouth: “Hey hey, this guy’s even hotter than the one with the blond hair behind!”

Sitting alone at the back of the classroom, Chen Kun, with his dyed blond hair, stared at Wu Yuchen—the man he’d met briefly a month ago—and wondered why he was in their class.

Zhao Wei was equally surprised. She remembered Wu Yuchen standing beside her and Liu Ye during the third round of auditions at the Central Academy of Drama. She never expected him to become her classmate now.

Wu Yuchen strode in with confidence, gave the new students a slight smile, but didn’t stop—directly walking up to the podium, picking up chalk, and writing several large characters on the blackboard.

He turned around, put down the chalk, and tapped the desk, scanning the room: “Hello, I’m Wu Yuchen, your teaching assistant and counselor.”

Everyone froze, then quickly sat up straight. They’d assumed this handsome guy was a classmate—turns out he was the teacher!

Wu Yuchen chuckled: “Alright, let’s start with self-introductions—get to know each other.”

He pointed casually: “Yan Danchen, you go first.”

Yan Danchen, seated in the front, stood up immediately and bowed nervously: “Teacher Wu, everyone, I’m Yan Danchen, from Xiangnan…”

After Yan Danchen finished, Wu Yuchen smiled: “Good. But Danchen, have you been eating well these past few months? Don’t slack off on your figure just because you passed the entrance exam!”

Yan Danchen had gained some weight; her round face looked sweet and innocent, but it masked the beauty she’d later need to portray as Chang’e. She blushed slightly, nodded, then sat down.

“Teacher Wu, everyone, I’m Zhao Wei…”

“Mm. Zhao Wei, be more careful in the future. Don’t be so careless—you lost your admission ticket, something this important! What’ll you do when something real comes up?”

This was different from his playful remark to Yan Danchen—it carried a hint of criticism.

Zhao Wei opened her mouth but dared not argue. She had indeed lost her admission ticket before the exam; according to regulations, she was ineligible to continue. Only because Teacher Cui Xinqin pitied her tears and helped her reissue it did she get to enroll.

One by one, each student stood to introduce themselves, and Wu Yuchen either nodded or offered a word or two.

“Hello everyone, I’m Chen Kun.” That was it.

Wu Yuchen thought: Chen Kun really was a bit reclusive back then. But he didn’t mind, and said:

“Chen Kun, you need to cut your hair. Otherwise, you won’t be allowed to join tomorrow’s military training.”

Chen Kun nodded obediently and sat down. He’d dyed it recently to please customers at karaoke bars and nightclubs, but school came first.

Then a chair scraped loudly as Huang Xiaoming stood up, grinning wide with bright white teeth:

“Teacher Wu, everyone, I’m Huang Xiaoming, from Daocheng. Everyone says I have no big flaws—my only weakness is…”

Huang Xiaoming flicked his head: “I’m not cool enough!”

The whole class burst into laughter. Even Wu Yuchen nearly cracked up—he thought this kid seemed a bit dim-witted. But looking into Huang Xiaoming’s earnest eyes, he couldn’t tell if the boy had been deliberately showing off.

Wu Yuchen cleared his throat and said: “Hmm. Just be careful crossing the street in the future.”

Before the entrance exam, Huang Xiaoming had been hit by a car while crossing the street—the wheels crushed his toes, fracturing them. He hadn’t even noticed. The driver got out to check, and Huang Xiaoming walked two steps, thought he was fine, and told the driver to leave. But a few steps later, he collapsed. He’d been carried to his exam.

"Thank you for your concern, Teacher!" Huang Xiaoming grinned foolishly and sat down.

Next, Zu Feng, Guo Xiaodong, and others stood up one by one to introduce themselves. When everyone had finished:

Wu Yuchen nodded in satisfaction, then walked down from the podium with his hands behind his back:

“Good. Over the next four years, you’ll be each other’s closest classmates, experiencing the happiest and most memorable years of your lives.

I want to warn you now: don’t think getting into the acting class means you’re guaranteed to become a big star. Based on past experience, if two or three of you become famous, that’s already excellent!

But if you study hard here, you’ll at least be able to earn a living and support your family.

And remember—acting matters, but being a good person matters even more. Learn to act by first learning to be human!”

As he spoke, Wu Yuchen deliberately glanced at Zhao Wei. She immediately straightened her back, sitting up properly.

Wu Yuchen scanned the room, sensing the atmosphere had grown a bit tense, then smiled:

“The entrance exam is months behind us. Let’s see if you’ve improved.”

Just then, he walked up to Huang Xiaoming and patted his shoulder: “Come on, Xiao Ming, step up front.”

Huang Xiaoming obediently followed Wu Yuchen to the front of the classroom.

“Xiao Ming, you seem like a sincere kid. Show me how to act angry.”

Huang Xiaoming scratched his head: “Teacher, I don’t know how to get angry.”

“Can you argue with someone, then?” Wu Yuchen asked.

“Teacher, my mom says arguing isn’t what a good kid does!”

The students seated around them covered their mouths, stifling laughter. Now they realized: Huang Xiaoming was just like a naive child.

Wu Yuchen internally groaned: This kid’s been overprotected!

“Then… can you, uh, act out catching a cricket?”

Huang Xiaoming looked innocent: “Teacher, there are no crickets in Daocheng.”

“No crickets? What about butterflies?”

“Butterflies are only in the park!”

The students could no longer hold back—they burst into giggles.

Wu Yuchen was nearly exasperated:

“Just pretend this is the park. Can you catch one now?”

Huang Xiaoming fell silent, glanced around, then suddenly dropped flat on his hands and feet, butt raised high, posture like a toad practicing kung fu. He kicked his legs and lunged forward.

Wu Yuchen didn’t react in time. The whole class froze for a moment, then erupted in roaring laughter.

But Huang Xiaoming didn’t stop. After lunging, he lay flat, pressing his hands beneath him, then slowly rose up, cupping his hands to his face, peering through a narrow slit, wearing an exaggeratedly joyful grin.

After finishing, he beamed at Wu Yuchen: “Teacher, how was my performance?”

Wu Yuchen looked at this child, clearly begging for praise, and couldn’t bring himself to crush his confidence. He patted his back and said solemnly:

“Xiao Ming, you’ve got a lot of room to improve. But my advice: don’t take on any roles until you’ve trained your fundamentals for at least two and a half years.”

Huang Xiaoming grinned foolishly: “Thank you for your guidance, Teacher!”

“Alright, go back to your seat.”

After Huang Xiaoming sat down, Shi Guanghui finally understood his nature. He stifled a laugh and gave him a thumbs-up: “Xiao Ming, you’re something else!”

Huang Xiaoming chuckled. He’d been spoiled at home since childhood, and in school, his good looks and obedience made him adored by female classmates and teachers—he never thought they were laughing at him. Later, when Zhao Wei found him childish and ignored him, he’d gone to Cui Xinqin in tears asking why, only to be directly shooed away.

Wu Yuchen felt he’d played his part for now. He tapped the desk to quiet everyone:

“Anyone volunteer to be class monitor?”

Seeing no one step forward, he declared: “Then I’ll pick one—Zu Feng, you’re the eldest. You’ll be class monitor.”

“Huh?” Zu Feng was stunned.

“Alright, for now, your monitor Zu Feng will organize some free mingling. I’ll go get Teacher Cui.”

Wu Yuchen called Zu Feng forward, then strode out of the classroom with confidence.

Zu Feng, the newly appointed monitor, had no authority yet. The moment Wu Yuchen left, the class exploded into chatter.

“I thought he was a classmate! Turns out he’s the counselor!”

“Yeah, how come counselors are this young?”

“Is our film academy’s counselor always this good-looking?”

“I felt like he kept glaring at me—I got nervous!”

“I think Teacher Wu’s right—he taught us how to be human!”

“Xiao Ming, really—no crickets in Daocheng?”

As everyone laughed and chatted, Cui Xinqin walked in. The classroom instantly grew quieter.

Cui Xinqin saw Zu Feng standing alone up front and asked curiously: “Zu Feng, what are you doing?”

“Teacher Cui, Teacher Wu made me class monitor, I…”

“Wait—Teacher Wu? Which Teacher Wu?” Cui Xinqin looked baffled.

“Our teaching assistant counselor. Look.” Zu Feng pointed to the blackboard.

Cui Xinqin saw the three large characters written there: “Wu Yuchen.” She opened her mouth, stunned, unable to process what was happening.

Wu Yuchen walked back cheerfully. Teasing the 96 class freshmen was fun—especially Huang Xiaoming, who’d given him quite the “surprise.” As for Teacher Cui—he’d already picked her monitor for her. She’d surely be delighted.

On the first Friday evening after school started, Wu Yuchen took Jiang Qin to a nearby cinema.

It wasn’t because they wanted to see a new movie—it was for “The Night the Comet Came.”

At the ticket counter, Wu Yuchen bought two tickets and asked the clerk:

“Sister, how many people come to see this movie?”

The ticket seller wasn’t shy: “Not bad. It’s only been out a few days. Best days, it fills about 70%. Today’s the first weekend—might sell out.”

Wu Yuchen nodded. The posters’ claims—“18-year-old Berlin Golden Bear director,” “Best Film at Sydney Film Festival”—were clearly working.

When Wu Yuchen and Jiang Qin entered, the theater was already half full, mostly with young people; they found seats casually. They’d seen this film countless times during its Sydney screening—this time, they simply wanted to observe the audience’s reactions.

Then they heard the conversation from the students seated ahead.

“Is this movie any good? Sci-fi and mystery? Can those even go together? Can we even make sci-fi films in China?”

“Not just mystery—it’s absolutely sci-fi! I doubted it when I came the other day, but after watching, I was stunned—I never thought sci-fi could be made like this!”

“And listen—when it starts, pay close attention to every line and detail. I came back just to catch all the foreshadowing!”

“Hey, you dragged me here because of this movie and Schrödinger’s cat?”

"That's right, you'll see for yourself soon!"

Jiang Qin and Wu Yuchen exchanged a smile upon hearing this; after all, they had worked hard to make the film, and seeing it screened and accepted by their own circle brought them genuine joy.

Ninety minutes later, the film ended.

"That's it? I thought Amy was going to kill her boyfriend too!"

"That’s the twist—though her final glance clearly says she will."

"Kill or not kill—you’re missing the point! Shouldn’t you be focusing on the fact that her boyfriend’s phone call had another Amy on the other end? I never thought sci-fi and suspense could blend like this!"

"Yeah, this director and screenwriter are insane—coming up with a story where someone kills themselves! I’m impressed!"

"What do you mean ‘coming up with’? Didn’t you hear the explanation about Schrödinger’s cat and quantum mechanics? Hey, Li Zhen, do you physics majors study parallel universes?"

"Huh? I haven’t studied that deep yet—maybe I’ll research it when I pursue my Ph.D.?"

"Come on, let’s all figure this out together—how many times did these eight people switch?"

After the film ended, many in the theater still refused to leave, discussing animatedly, especially a group of male students.

This was the advantage of screening the film near a university—students could easily understand it and became intensely curious and eager to explore further.

But Wu Yuchen had already pulled Jiang Qin away during this time; if anyone recognized her as the female lead, it might cause trouble.

Outside, Jiang Qin happily linked arms with Wu Yuchen and asked, "I saw how excited they were—do you think our movie will be a hit?"

Wu Yuchen thought for a moment and said:

"Hard to say. This theater is near a university, so there are lots of students. If we’d shown it elsewhere, the effect might not be the same. But it’s already far better than I expected—maybe in a couple days, if you visit other campuses, someone might even ask you for an autograph!"

Jiang Qin laughed and asked, "What about box office?"

"I can’t calculate that—wait till Monday, I’ll check."

For small films like this, domestic box office figures aren’t tracked right away—for example, in Jingcheng it’s been playing for three or four days, but in Shandong Province, it might have just opened today.

"I thought you knew everything~" Jiang Qin laughed.

Wu Yuchen pulled Jiang Qin close and kissed her.

"I don’t know much else, but I know you’ve missed me."

Seeing Jiang Qin silent, Wu Yuchen pinched her cheek and asked:

"Miss me?"

"Yeah~"

"How?"

"I miss you loving me~"

Seeing Jiang Qin’s sultry, radiant face, Wu Yuchen swept her up and headed straight for the nearest hotel.

…

On Monday, Wu Yuchen called Zhongying.

"Hey, Director Wu, we were just about to call you—total box office for 'The Night the Comet Came' is 5.12 million!"

"Can you give me the details?"

"Sure. In Jingcheng, five days: 1.02 million; in Mochu, five days: 730,000; in Yangcheng..."

Wu Yuchen listened: Jingcheng and Mochu, with the most universities and highest economic activity, naturally had higher box office; other regions were much lower. But combined, the fifteen cities had already contributed over five million—very impressive.

"Will more prints be added?"

Each additional print boosted box office; theaters would schedule as many showings as possible to recoup their print costs, unless the film was truly terrible.

"Director Wu, we’ll probably add more prints—some cities are reporting strong sales and requesting prints—but I doubt we’ll add more than forty or fifty more. You know the environment we’re in."

Wu Yuchen nodded—he understood the reference to piracy. Piracy hadn’t spread yet, but once a film took off in one area, copies would inevitably appear within a week.

"Manager Liu, may I ask another question—how long will 'The Night the Comet Came' stay in theaters?"

"Given your situation, probably two months at the shortest, three at the longest."

Domestic film output was still low, and scheduling wasn’t nearly as fierce as it would be twenty years later—films like 'Red Fireworks' and 'True Lies' had run for over half a year.

Wu Yuchen did the math: even so, the film’s box office would likely reach over ten million. Though still far from the 33 million that ranked tenth in 1996, it far exceeded his expectations—after all, the film had cost only 150,000.

The final total box office could only be known after two or three months.

He had already informed each member of the crew about the film’s release. Since not everyone could gather, they’d each watched separately. Still, he expected the box office and audience feedback would bring them all a pleasant surprise.

Huang Jiaozhu’s stories were based on his own experiences and those told by his classmates and Teacher Cui.