Chapter 142: You Just Get Pregnant—I Don

The gathering of the Seven Fairies officially marked the beginning of the farewell to "The Seven Fairies of Joy and Happiness."

Less than three days after the gathering, Li Bingbing wrapped filming and left the crew, followed by Yang Xue and Fan Xiaopang.

The male actors—Zhou Yiwei, Gao Xin, and Qiao Zhenyu—also gradually wrapped their roles.

On April 6, Dong Xuan wrapped as well, but she didn't leave; Huang Shengyi was still in Wushi, and Hu Siyuan would wrap last, as she feared a surprise attack on her base.

For this reason, Dong Xuan turned down the lead female role in her class's graduation play.

Although she already had some fame and didn't need the graduation play to gain exposure, Dong Xuan now wanted to stay at the school, and the graduation play was a valuable asset.

With the lead role gone, there were still other parts available, and Dong Xuan planned to put extra effort into her thesis.

"You really plan to become a teacher?"

Yan Li, watching Dong Xuan intently researching on her computer, couldn't help asking.

Previously, Dong Xuan had been hesitant about staying at the school; for months she hadn't mentioned it at all, not even triggering the system's alerts.

Yet now that she'd just wrapped filming, she was preparing as if for battle, catching Yan Li off guard.

"I'm covering both bases."

Dong Xuan explained her thinking: "I'll give it a try—if I can stay, great; if not, fine. Better than regretting later. And if I do stay, I can always quit later if I get tired of it."

It wasn't uncommon for professors from Beijing Film Academy to leave academia for the entertainment industry—or for famous stars to join the academy as teachers.

For example, Xu Jinglei, one of the Four Little Fairies, was hired last year alongside director Tian Zhuangzhuang; she taught "Directing Creation," and he taught "Acting Studies," both as official faculty.

Dong Xuan didn't have such privileges.

After all, they had established industry credentials, fame, and honors—they were stars who could enhance the academy's prestige.

If Dong Xuan stayed, she'd start as a teaching assistant, likely for two to four years, and would need to pass exams and selections before becoming a full lecturer.

Of course, Dong Xuan could also pursue a master's degree while working; having a master's degree would greatly benefit her promotion.

"How much does a teaching assistant earn per month?"

Yan Li was curious about the academy's pay; Dong Xuan had inquired: "Base salary plus class fees—under 2, 00, but they provide housing, and we can eat in the cafeteria. It's actually not bad."

"Do they pay social insurance and housing fund?"

Dong Xuan replied: "I don't know about the vocational program, but our undergraduate program does."

"Any side income?"

This salary was fine for ordinary people, but for those from art backgrounds, it wasn't high—Yan Li's first thought was that there must be other income.

"Of course."

Dong Xuan gave him an approving look, then began counting on her fingers.

"I won't mention film pay, but with the title of Beijing Film Academy teacher, I can tutor privately or work part-time at art exam prep centers—earnings are decent, though the school monitors this depending on the climate."

"Plus, there are academic project subsidies, invitations to lectures and related events, and sometimes film companies and production crews hire our professors as consultants."

"Add it all up, I won't make as much as famous actors, but it's not a hardship—key point is steady income."

"..."

As previously mentioned, for those in film or theater—actors, screenwriters, directors—unstable income is the norm.

Famous ones can live off earnings for three years; unknowns face feast-or-famine cycles.

So for many art students, the top choice is fame; the second choice is securing a stable position.

Major troupes have the most people, but schools, due to teaching duties, have fewer—yet remain popular choices.

If you succeed in landing one, even with low pay, it lets you calmly watch the storms while others struggle and fight.

It was only because Yan Li's nature couldn't sit still, and because his vocational diploma was looked down upon, that he hadn't considered staying himself.

He was also good at teaching!

Dong Xuan was focused on her thesis and didn't want Yan Li distracting her, so she kicked him out.

"Go on, write well. If you get hungry, call me—I'll bring you food."

Yan Li thought Dong Xuan becoming a teacher wasn't bad—it was low-maintenance, and in her free time, she could still teach him.

He wasn't just a good teacher—he was also a good student...

After Yan Li left, Dong Xuan was busy with her thesis when her QQ suddenly chimed. She opened it to find her close friend Guan Yue, also working on her thesis.

Since coming to Wushi to film, Dong Xuan and Guan Yue hadn't met in person, but they'd kept in constant contact.

【How's it going? Have you told Yan Li about staying at the school?】

Dong Xuan replied: 【I told him. He seems supportive.】

【I told you so—listen to me and you won't go wrong.】

Dong Xuan hesitated, then typed: 【Guo, is it true your mother-in-law actually changed her attitude toward you after hearing you'd become a teacher?】

【Hah! So that's why you're suddenly so eager—I knew it. Wait, let's call.】

Dong Xuan waited a moment, then Guan Yue called. They discussed Dong Xuan's question in detail.

Not long ago, Tong Dawei's mother came to Beijing to visit her son and met Guan Yue.

At first, Tong's mother wasn't cold, but she wasn't warm either.

After all, Tong Dawei wasn't an unknown anymore—his career was rising, and a mother's standards naturally grew more selective.

But when she learned Guan Yue was also Manchu and a prospective teacher at Beijing Film Academy, her attitude shifted, showing some appreciation and approval.

The Manchu heritage meant nothing to Dong Xuan, but the title of "teacher"—Guan Yue could use it, and so could she.

"... et me tell you, the older generation thinks being a teacher is stable and respectable.

"His mom never said it outright, but I could tell she didn't want Tong to date someone from the industry."

"A teacher is different—it brings honor to the family and no messy drama. Which mother-in-law wouldn't prefer a quiet, dutiful daughter-in-law?"

"..."

Dong Xuan nodded repeatedly. Yan Li's career was improving, and she couldn't keep up—she needed other advantages.

Ever since hearing about Tong Dawei's mother, she'd been thinking along these lines.

Would Yan Li's parents also look favorably on the teaching profession?

Though uncertain, Dong Xuan thought it worth trying. Yan Li was always filial—if she could win his parents' approval, combined with their past connection, Yan Li would be hers.

Guan Yue added advice: "... say just skip the effort—get pregnant. I don't believe Yan Li won't take care of you."

"What a ridiculous idea! I'm only twenty-four, still in college—you want me to be a mom?"

Dong Xuan had attended Shenyang Conservatory and later joined the General Political Department Song and Dance Troupe; she wasn't a fresh graduate—she was two years older than most university students.

Guan Yue was the same—she'd been working, abandoned her elementary school teaching job, and applied to Beijing Film Academy and Shanghai Theatre Academy for further study.

Their close bond stemmed partly from this shared path.

Guan Yue pressed on: "You're already at childbearing age. In my hometown, a classmate younger than me already has a child."

"Then why haven't you had one?"

"Dawei's career is peaking—he can't afford marriage or kids. But Yan Li doesn't have that worry."

Dong Xuan rejected Guan Yue's suggestion. She wasn't ready, and Yan Li was careful—he always used protection, and even when they let loose, he bought her emergency pills.

Pregnancy could only be an extreme measure...

(End of Chapter)