Chapter 11: This Guy Is "Utterly Ordinary"

Chapter 11: This Guy Is “Plain and Unremarkable”

“Chen Ping, when are you heading to the crew?”

“Next week, I guess.”

“Then you have to make the most of your time on set. If you suddenly become popular, bring us along too.”

“What popularity? It’s just a minor role. If I don’t get scolded by the director, I’ll count myself lucky.”

“Always so modest... Hey, Chen Ping…”

Aria suddenly seemed to remember something as she spoke.

Lin Guansen found it odd and asked, “Aria, what is it?”

“Xiao Lin, don’t you think Chen Ping looks a lot like the person we just saw trending on Weibo?”

“Let me see… wow, they really do look alike.”

“What are you two talking about?”

Chen Ping, puzzled, leaned in to see.

Aria was opening Weibo, where the trending topic read: “Piano Performance of a Hengcheng Art Exam Student Captivates the Judges.”

“Chen Ping, is this you?”

Since the video showed the pianist from behind, Aria could only see the silhouette.

Those unfamiliar with Chen Ping wouldn’t know who it was.

But when Chen Ping stood before them, both Aria and Lin Guansen felt a strong sense of familiarity.

Comparing the two, they didn’t need Chen Ping to confirm; they knew for sure.

“No way, it really is you.”

“Ahhh… Chen Ping, you’re going to be famous!”

Excited, Lin Guansen jumped up.

“What’s going on?”

Chen Ping was still a bit confused.

“You don’t know?”

“Nope.”

Chen Ping shrugged, signaling his ignorance.

“Alright, let me ask you, is the person in this video you?”

“Probably me.”

“That’s the point! You don’t know, but your piano performance from the art exam has already reached the top ten trending topics on Weibo today.”

“Oh, is that so…”

Chen Ping began to understand a little but still found it strange. “It’s just a piano performance, what’s the big deal?”

Though puzzled, seeing the flood of comments under the Weibo topic helped Chen Ping grasp the situation.

“A refreshing stream.”

“So that’s the name of the song, ‘Refreshing Stream’.”

“Isn’t it called ‘Human World’?”

Right.

In his previous life, this song was also a re-lyricized piece, which helped Chen Ping make some sense of it.

“Chen Ping, did you write the lyrics?”

“Well… do you know a lyricist named Lin Xi?”

Chen Ping asked cautiously.

This world was strange—some celebrities existed, some books were around, but some songs didn’t appear.

Chen Ping couldn’t just ask everything blindly; he had to be careful.

“Lin Xi… who’s that?”

“Oh… nothing, I wrote them.”

Since there was no Lin Xi here, Chen Ping breathed a sigh of relief.

No Lin Xi meant no embarrassment; it was his own work.

“Wow, impressive! You should quit acting and become a singer.”

“Yeah, why not develop both acting and singing at the same time?”

“Forget it, I can’t really sing well. Better to stick to acting.”

Chen Ping shook his head.

Even though he had a little online fame, he knew his own situation well.

This kind of online buzz would only last a few days; once the hype died down, no one would remember.

Besides, Chen Ping wasn’t much of a singer, so switching to music wouldn’t help.

And singing was even harder to break into than acting.

At least actors who weren’t famous could survive on their skills and roles.

But unknown singers might not even be able to afford a meal.

Clearly, the music industry was much smaller than the acting world.

Back in the apartment, there was some envy, but it was just a brief episode, and Chen Ping didn’t take it to heart.

A few days later, the “Evernight” crew officially gathered all the actors. Wu Yu accompanied Chen Ping to the high-speed rail station.

“The opening ceremony for ‘Evernight’ is in Xiangyang; I won’t see you off there.”

“That’s fine, I’ll just report directly to the crew.”

Chen Ping wasn’t a star, nor was he delicate; he nodded cheerfully.

“By the way, there’s another actor from our company on set, but he’s on a different path. He may have arrived earlier. You two can look out for each other.”

“Who?”

“Liao Jie.”

“Oh, him.”

Like Chen Ping, Liao Jie was also a signed talent at Shengteng Entertainment. Though not close, they had met before.

But Liao Jie graduated from a prestigious art school, had a different contract, and was rather aloof.

“What role does he play?”

“Qi Si, your subordinate.”

“Oh.”

Chen Ping smiled.

What a coincidence.

…

After a long journey, Chen Ping took the high-speed train to Xiangyang.

Following the address, he arrived at the designated spot, gave his name and ID, and smoothly entered the crew.

Most actors had already gathered.

Chen Ping saw many top-tier veterans.

For example, the superstar Li Min, who played Tang Wang.

Zheng Shaoqiu, playing Master Fuzi.

Hu Jun, playing Xiahou.

Also Jin Shijie, Ni Dahong… all seasoned actors.

Of course, there was also Director Chen’s son, the lead in “Evernight,” Chen Feiyu, portraying Ning Que.

Standing 188 cm tall, good-looking, and with a renowned director as his father, Chen Feiyu was blessed with everything.

Chen Ping, however, felt somewhat awkward.

After he joined the crew, almost no one recognized him.

When they learned Chen Ping was playing Zhao Xiaoshu, many actors found it hard to believe.

“Zhao Xiaoshu?”

“He’s barely in his twenties playing Zhao Xiaoshu?”

“No way. Director Yang is usually very strict with casting. How did he get chosen?”

No matter how they looked at Chen Ping, they didn’t see him fitting the role of Zhao Xiaoshu.

Thus, after Chen Ping joined the crew, the atmosphere became delicate.

Initially, no one knew him, but upon learning he played Zhao Xiaoshu, many actors barely spoke to him.

Chen Ping wanted to chat with them about ideas after filming started or try out scenes.

But unfortunately…

Zhao Xiaoshu’s scenes were either with the lead Ning Que or with superstar Li Min.

As a minor actor, how could he approach them and say, “Hey, let’s rehearse together”?

In such a subtle atmosphere, Chen Ping did nothing and became essentially invisible.

Since he had no scenes in the first few episodes, he welcomed the leisure, spending his days watching other actors perform.

…

One day, Chen Ping was leisurely watching other actors shoot.

The scene being filmed was the lead Ning Que fighting bandits.

These scenes were tough—action-heavy.

Director Yang was very particular about action scenes, which slowed down filming.

Repeated takes of the same moves sometimes reached dozens.

Even lead actor Chen Feiyu was exhausted.

Chen Ping, having no scenes, enjoyed watching comfortably, even sipping tea.

Suddenly, a voice behind him said, “Chen Ping, you’re quite relaxed.”

“You’re relaxed too, aren’t you?”

Without turning, Chen Ping recognized the voice—Yuan Bingyan, playing the female second lead, Mo Shanshan.

Like Chen Ping, Yuan Bingyan was temporarily without scenes; she wouldn’t appear until more than ten episodes later.

Unlike other actors who barely spoke to Chen Ping, Yuan Bingyan got along well with him.

“I’m relaxed, but I have a long stretch of downtime. You, on the other hand, start filming soon.”

“You mean everyone’s eager to see my performance?”

“What do you think?”

Yuan Bingyan smiled sweetly.

That smile was beautiful.

Chen Ping loved her smile.

It seemed to melt everything, dispelling all troubles.

But Chen Ping knew their respective statuses.

She was the female second lead.

He was just a supporting actor.

Yuan Bingyan talking to him was simply because she was bored without scenes.

“I guess many people are waiting to see me mess up.”

Chen Ping was clear on this.

It wasn’t that other actors bore him any ill will.

Ultimately, it was about the contrast in roles.

An actor barely in his twenties playing a complex character like Zhao Xiaoshu made people skeptical.

Especially since many actors had struggled to land good roles, yet an ordinary guy like Chen Ping got one so prominent.

It was impossible for them not to harbor some thoughts.

Of course, the entertainment industry was rife with unfairness.

Like the lead Chen Feiyu, many envied him—why wasn’t it them in the lead role?

But when you knew Chen Feiyu’s resources and background, you simply had no words.

He was better looking, taller, had more resources, and a powerful father.

What grounds did you have to compete with Chen Feiyu?

Chen Ping was different.

He was just a minor signed actor at Shengteng, reportedly chosen from among extras.

His looks were plain and unremarkable.

At 175 cm, just average.

No one knew how he got so lucky to land Zhao Xiaoshu’s role.

Chen Feiyu’s circle might not say anything, but could they not be hoping to see Chen Ping fail?

“Mess up? I don’t believe you’ll mess up.”

“You trust me that much?”

“Don’t be so vain… I trust Director Yang’s judgment.”

“Hahaha…”

Chen Ping laughed awkwardly. “True, I do trust Director Yang’s eye.”

Speaking of which,

Chen Ping was actually looking forward to it.

(The End of this Chapter)