Chapter 10 No rush, there's still time.
Chapter 10 No rush, there's still time.
Wang Zian looked at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
He wondered if the man was old and hard of hearing.
He clearly said he had already eaten.
"Dean Wang."
Wang Zian pronounced those three words very clearly, his tone carrying a subtle, polite firmness that was more pronounced than before.
"I have to go back to take an exam, so I have to leave. Otherwise, I'll miss my train."
Wang Jinsong's eyebrows twitched.
"Look, you're calling me Dean Wang now."
He took half a step forward, reached out and patted Wang Zian on the shoulder, the gesture as intimate as if he were patting his own nephew.
"We're family; let's have a meal together."
Wang Zian's eyes widened slightly.
Those phoenix eyes were already rather long, and when they widened, the corners of their eyes would curve upwards in a distinct arc, shattering the calm and composed demeanor on their faces and revealing a thin layer of genuine astonishment.
Is this even possible?
"But someone is waiting for me!" he said, offering a different excuse.
"Didn't you just say you came alone?" Wang Chunzai's voice interrupted from the side.
She stood half a step behind Wang Jinsong, with a "let's see how you smooth things over" smile on her face.
Wang Zian was momentarily embarrassed after being silenced by his own words.
"I—" he took a breath, "I have relatives here; he'll come to pick me up in a bit."
Wang Jinsong smiled.
It's the kind of laugh that comes from an old hand being amused by a younger person's lie.
Without pointing out the truth or mocking, he simply smiled and softened the light in his eyes.
He extended his right hand and naturally grasped Wang Zian's wrist.
"Then we can eat first and wait for him."
After saying that, she pulled Prince An forward.
The pressure he applied to Wang Zian's wrist was just right.
Not too loose, not too tight; not so loose that the other party feels they can break free, nor so tight that they feel offended.
This is a unique sense of propriety possessed by an elderly person who has taught for decades.
Wang Zian looked down at the hand on his wrist and wondered: If I were to forcefully break free, would I hurt him?
He sighed inwardly.
Wang Zian was forced to take one step, two steps, three steps forward.
The backpack swayed on my back, and the cat teacher keychain made a soft, crisp sound as it hit the zipper.
The other teachers exchanged glances.
One of the middle-aged men wearing glasses gestured with his lip toward Wang Jinsong's back, and the people next to him nodded knowingly before dispersing.
Since the dean has personally taken charge, there's no need for them to follow.
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"So, you really did come to Beijing for fun!"
Wang Chunzai's voice came from across the table, carrying an air of disbelief.
The teacup in front of her had gone cold, but she didn't drink it. She placed her hands on the table, leaned forward slightly, and stared intently at Wang Zi'an.
She initially thought the young man was lying, but it turned out to be true.
Wang Zian nodded with a wry smile.
His fingers unconsciously twirled the teacup in front of him. The tea in the cup had already been refilled twice, and its color had changed from deep amber to light gold.
The restaurant wasn't big, and they sat at a four-person table by the window.
None of the other teachers came, leaving only three people at the table.
Wang Jinsong sat in the seat opposite Wang Zian, towards the back, with Wang Chunzi sitting next to him.
Several dishes were laid out on the table: Kung Pao Chicken, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, a steamed fish, and a bowl of hot and sour soup.
The food was barely touched, and all three pairs of chopsticks remained on the plate.
It was completely dark outside the window.
The light from the streetlamp shone through the window, casting a bright square patch of light on the table.
Occasionally, a car would drive by on the road, its headlights sweeping from one end of the window to the other, casting the three people's shadows in a circle on the wall.
"My car is already late!"
Wang Zian said this very softly, with a hint of helplessness in his voice.
Wang Jinsong leaned back in his chair with a smile, his right hand resting on the edge of the table, his index finger tapping the surface intermittently.
The teacup in front of him had gone cold, but he didn't care.
His entire attention was on Prince An.
"Then let's reschedule? At least we can go back for the second interview, which is more fun!"
Wang Zian raised his eyes and glanced at him.
Wang Jinsong's smile remained unchanged.
When she smiles, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes spread out like a fan, making her look kind and harmless.
"Besides, you only stayed here for two days before going back, and you didn't even get to do all the fun things!"
Wang Jinsong picked up his now-cold tea, took a sip, and without even frowning, asked, "Did you go to the Forbidden City? The Great Wall? The Summer Palace? The ice rink at Houhai is still open for skating!"
"I've already gone to Yenching University!"
Wang Zian said this intentionally.
It wasn't about showing off; he just wanted to see how these two teachers from Beijing Film Academy would react when they heard the words "Yanda" (Yan University).
"Yan University?" Wang Chunzi thought to herself, "This is bad."
Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but she swallowed it back and looked at Wang Zi'an with a re-examining gaze.
Dean Wang is a seasoned veteran; his reactions are much more subtle.
His fingers paused for about half a second while tapping on the table, then resumed.
He asked calmly, "What score did you get on your last mock exam?"
"You crossed the line!" Wang Zian replied casually.
He simply said, "You've crossed the line," in a casual, dismissive tone.
The air in the room seemed a little thinner.
Teacher Wang gasped, looking him up and down in disbelief.
Wang Zian smiled. "Teacher Wang, Dean Wang, I really don't have much interest in acting, and I don't have any talent for it either!"
"I came here simply to look around!"
He spoke very sincerely.
His tone was neither humble nor arrogant, neither dodging nor evading; every word seemed to come from the heart.
Wang Jinsong did not respond.
He leaned back in his chair, looking at Wang Zian, his fingers tapping on the table.
When he heard the words "Yanda", his heart tightened.
When I heard the words "You've crossed the line," my heart tightened again.
But after those two quick movements, what popped into his mind wasn't disappointment, but a stronger thought.
He wanted this person even more.
But now is not a good time.
He could tell that Wang Zian wasn't the kind of child who would be swayed by a few words.
There was no hesitation, no wavering, no flicker of "I'm actually a little tempted, but I need someone to give me a push" in his eyes.
He sat there and said, "I'm not very interested in acting," in a tone as calm as if he were talking about the weather.
This peace is real.
But Wang Jinsong has taught for decades and has seen too many students.
He has seen people who initially had no interest in acting but later became obsessed with it.
I've seen people who vowed to become actors, only to switch majors a few months after the start of the semester.
I've also seen people like Wang Zian, whose talent is hidden deep within them, and they don't even know it themselves, needing someone to help them unearth it.
Not urgent.
There is still time.
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