Director of a Suspense Film

Ch11 – A Lamb of My Type 

　　The feelings this piece gave people weren’t very good. Because of the juxtaposition between the light and dark colours, you couldn’t stop the feeling of discomfort when you first see it. 

　　Zong Qi felt his consciousness getting infected, his thoughts muddled and heavy, spacing out as he stared dazedly at the painting. 

　　Until a thin hand reached over, picking up the cloth and covering the piece again. It was only when the entire painting had been covered did Zong Qi realise his back was drenched in a cold sweat. 

　　“This is an incomplete project, there is no exact publication date yet.” 

　　The melodic voice came from behind him, like a spring on the mountains, deep and magnetic. 

　　“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to trespass.” Zong Qi stuttered, freezing in shock when he raised his head. 

　　The man standing beside the easel was tall and thin. Half of his face was hidden within the shadows while the other half was highlighted in the sunlight, his white hair was tied at the back and his long glasses were slightly askew. Paired with the face of warm and cold lights, it gave him a forbidden scholar feel. 

　　He wore a simple white shirt, but his skin was even lighter than it, white to the point of unnaturalness. The cuff of his shirt was rolled up to his elbow, revealing blue veins running along his arm. 

　　Zong Qi could connect the man to the name on the door of this studio even without an introduction. He was so young it was hard to connect the word ‘Professor’ to him. 

　　“Hello.” 

　　The man revealed a small smile first, dispelling the sense of ‘forbidden’ from him. 

　　“Hello Professor, I’m Zong Qi from Directing Class 2. I didn’t hear anything after knocking on the door and it wasn’t locked so I wanted to put this down…” 

　　Zong Qi’s voice got softer and soft.

　　His face reddened and his heart kept pounding. 

　　Zong Qi never thought this would be a private office before coming in and now that he was caught, he couldn’t help but want to hide in a hole and never come out. 

　　“I’m truly sorry, I didn’t know that was an unpublished piece.” 

　　The black-haired youth stared at his shoes and did a 90-degree bow, handing the documents to him. 

　　“So you’re the student Professor Cheng mentioned.” 

　　The sound of pages flipping was next to his year, “Don’t worry, it wasn’t a completed piece anyway. I still need to change some things.” 

　　Oil paintings were incomplete as long as they haven’t added varnish because you could paint the piece over with new coats of paint. 

　　Zong Qi released a breath, seeing the white-haired man walk towards the desk, “Please, sit.” 

　　He walked over respectfully, watching the other place the needle on top of the vinyl record. A calm, melodious violin sounded from the golden gramophone. 

　　“Mister, I…” 

　　“There’s no need to address me so formally,” He said, “Professor Cheng only wanted you to watch me for a while in hopes that your aesthetic taste will improve. Your results ultimately are not up to me. Technically speaking, I am not your teacher.” 

　　“Ah alright, Professor Yu.” 

　　Zong Qi quickly changed the way he addressed him, accepting the cup of steaming black tea the other offered, finding freshly cut lemons and sugar cubes on the side. 

　　“Relax, I don’t bite.” Yu Chenxue smiled warmly. 

　　For a long time, only the sound of a violin, the vinyl record playing, and the silver spoon hitting the cup could be heard in the studio. 

　　The black tea was hot, the steam coming from above it warmed his mind, making Zong Qi’s mind relax.” 

　　He watched the professor through the steam. 

　　Very few people choose to dye their hair white, much less grow it out, because bleak skin would ruin the colour.

　　Come to think of it, long hair seemed to be a symbol to artists. Zong Qi’s hair was long only because he was too lazy to cut. 

　　He’s never met someone as good looking as the professor. 

　　If he could, Zong Qi would use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe him. Beauty wasn’t limited to genders. Moreover, compared to his appearance, the man’s noble temperament was more eye-catching. As if every bit of him was a gift from the creator, impossibly good looking. 

　　Under the cheerful tone of Mendelssohn’s Concerto in E minor, Yu Chenxue picked up the teacup.

　　“Better?” 

　　“Yes, thank you.” Zong Qi scratched his head sheepishly. 

　　“Since you’ve relaxed, let’s begin.” 

　　Begin? 

　　A trace of confusion flitted past the black-haired youth’s eyes, straightening his back as if meeting his teaching director. 

　　Sensing his nervousness, Yu Chenxue stopped smiling, “There’s no need to be so serious, it’s just a small test relating to my teaching style for the next semester,” 

　　“Okay.”

　　Zong Qi sat obediently on the chair, putting his hands on his legs and back straight like a primary schooler. 

　　“I’m ready, please go ahead.” 

　　Although Professor Yu said that he wasn’t responsible for his grades in his practical and he couldn’t decide whether or not he’ll pass, Zong Qi was sure that nothing good was about to come.” 

　　“Alright.” 

　　The psychology professor’s finger curved, knocking against the table gently, “What did you see from that painting? Mhm… You can speak freely, don’t worry.” 

　　An unexpected yet reasonable question. 

　　Zong Qi released a breath. 

　　Questions like these were the basics of Aesthetic Appreciation class. Other than the questions about philosophy, practical courses often hung renowned art pieces and asked students to evaluate them. 

　　“Uhm… The piece was painted with bright colours, but it made people feel suppressed.” 

　　“At first glance, the painting gave me a feeling of despair and pain, even a tiny bit of nausea.” Zong Qi answered carefully. 

　　Yu Chenxue’s smile didn’t change, encouraging him to continue. 

　　“I realised that the uneasy feeling it gave was because of the atmosphere within the drawing. Some of the colours were stacked on top of each other, it wasn’t neat and you could even call it crazy… But it looked pretty good.” 

　　Zong Qi started worrying after he finished. 

　　Artists could use their pieces to influence people just like authors could. Of course, it wouldn’t work anymore if the creator realised this and attempted to change it. 

　　Under normal circumstances, Zong Qi would do something as low EQ as making improper comments in front of the creator. Even if he did, it would be praised full of a high EQ.  

　　But perhaps the temperature of the black tea was too perfect, the sun coming through the window followed along with the tiles on the floor and just the perfect amount of encouragement was given by this professor he had just met… Zong Qi ended up spilling his true feelings out and could only stutter a dry ‘It looks pretty good’ at the end. 

　　The studio was silent. 

　　Then the sound of the teacup being put down echoed. 

　　“What unique insight, Mister Zong.” 

　　His glass lens covered the colour of his calm pupils. The psychology professor placed both hands on the table, raising his brow, “The main character of this piece is Vincent Van Gogh.” 

　　Zong Qi finally understood. 

　　Due to the aesthetic transcendence in time, Van Gogh wasn’t understood in his life. He was in poverty and only managed to sell one piece of art in his lifetime. 

　　However, after his death, one piece of his could go for insane prices. People would praise him as a great artist, the pioneer of expressionism and the star of the 19th century. 

　　His most famous deeds included cutting his ear off and killing himself in a wheat field while being insane. 

　　No wonder Zong Qi felt that the sky in the piece felt so familiar. It was similar to Van Gogh’s famous piece, ‘Starry Night’, while the feeling of insanity coming from the piece was because other than being an artist, Van Gogh was labelled as a psycho. 

　　“It is exactly so that your evaluation made me surprised. Very few people would be able to see such subtle implications in a piece…” 

　　He was interrupted by a ringing sound. 

　　The white-haired professor raised his hand and revealed an apologetic expression, turning towards the back of the bookshelf. 

　　As he turned around, the man’s graceful smile instantly retracted itself. 

　　Compared to the large window outside, the back of the bookshelf was much darker. Under the yellow light of the old-fashioned lamps, it shone the dark brown bookshelf and the thick stacks of books alphabetised on them, making the golden letters glow in the dark. 

　　The person stood under the darkness, his fingers sweeping past the Napoleonic Code to Pure Rational Criticism, his jawline cold and unforgiving. 

　　The person on the phone was completely unlike a leader of a worldwide organisation, calling out respectfully, “Sir.” 

　　…….

　　Zong Qi made sure the professor left before secretly putting another cube of sugar into his cup. 

　　The white sugar quickly dissolved into the tea, mixing with the freshly squeezed lemon juice, making the tea sweet yet sour. 

　　The new professor seemed very easy to talk to. Perhaps he could get a schedule for his practical course, that way it wouldn’t hinder him from doing his streaming and directing job. 

　　Yes, Zong Qi accepted his new directing job very quickly. 

　　Anything that can make him money is good, he even strayed back to his default job, sounds pretty good to him. (t/n: default job = what he was originally supposed to do)

　　The sound of violin floated throughout the room, bright and warm.

　　As Zong Qi drank his tea, he glanced at the lock screen on his phone and found a warning on it. 

　　[Notice: Major Plot ‘Desolate Village’ shall begin shooting in two days at 9 in the morning. Please hand in your actors list before this afternoon or points will be deducted] 

　　“……”

　　So sudden?! 

　　He recalled himself in the Minor Plot ‘Mental Hospital’ and the fight of life and death with the serial killer and was full of uncertainties for the upcoming plot. 

　　I hope it’s supernatural, at least I’ll have immunity if it was. 

　　The black-haired youth shook his head, throwing that thought out of his mind and opened up Horror Film Director. 

　　The only poster lit up in the Major Plot section had been moved out and put into the [Scheduled Films] 

　　[Name]: Desolate Village

　　[Filming time]: 7 days

　　[Participating]: 7 people

　　[Employees Allowed]: 1

　　[Requirements]: Actors Scream Value 5000, Plot Exploration 70%, Number of Actors alive more than or equals 3

　　[Beginner Directors cannot choose a filming identity, currently receiving identity…] 

　　[Possible Identities: Actor, Protagonist NPC, Antagonist NPC, Movie Designer] (t/n: protag antag just means the NPC on the good side or bad side i couldnt think of another way to tl it)

　　[Identity received: Actor] 

　　[Notice: Intermediate Directors can choose their own identities] 

　　[Please wait… Calibrating your actor identity] 

　　[Actor Name]: (blank)

　　[Actor Rank]: E-rank Actor (has not participated in a Major Plot)

　　[Represented Work]: None

　　Zong Qi typed ‘Office Worker’ in the blank. 

　　He didn’t understand what the other identities were for so luckily he didn’t get them this time. He should be able to understand the difference when he gets it the next time. 

　　The system’s speed was very fast, a new message popped up right after the confirmation of the previous one. 

　　[Director Q has chosen to join the plot ‘Desolate Village’ as an “Actor”, 6 more actors are needed] 

　　[Warning: Actors can be arranged to participate in Major Plots, however, they must be paid a salary afterwards. Different ranked actors must be paid a different amount] 

　　[Salary: Director Points] 

　　Soon, 6 ranks popped up on the screen— S-rank Actor, A-rank Actor, B-rank Actor, C-rank Actor, D-rank Actor and E-rank Actor. 

　　Notice on top read: S-rank Actors must be paid 50% of the director points earned as a guarantee. 

　　There’s nothing wrong with Directors paying their Actors. 

　　But it also meant that if he chose to hire an S-rank Actor to participate in ‘Desolate Village’, half of his money will have to be handed away. 

　　“…….”

　　Thank god he got the Actor identity, he’ll get to pay one person less. 

　　He’ll never hire an S-rank Actor! 

　　He looked to the other ranks. 

　　Every rank’s salary was different, decreasing as the ranks went lower. 

　　A-rank 20%, B-rank 10%, C-rank 5%, D-rank 3% and E-rank actors only needed to be paid 1%. Compared to these, the S-ranks were really too expensive. 

　　“I guess I’ll choose 6 E-ranks. Gather some sixes, give me luck.” (t/n: 666 in chinese is like slang for omg poggers <- just means youre so good at this so im assuming it what he means here) 

　　Cheapskate Director Zong Qi’s thought process went like this as he chose 6 E-rank actors. 

　　[Actor Ranks relates to the final count of actors alive, please choose carefully] 

　　Perhaps sensing Zong Qi trying to save money, the system sent a notice. 

　　Thus Zong Qi could only reluctantly delete three E-rank actors and add a C-rank and two D-ranks to the mix, making the final salary he had to pay 13%.

　　If he could, Zong Qi would like Xiao Hong to take an actor’s spot too. 

　　But after thinking properly, he figured that Xiao Hong might attack her people when she’s going crazy, so he could only add her as an Employee. 

　　Luckily, the system told him that employees’ rewards were calculated by the Actor System on the employee’s phone and didn’t need to be there the entire time. They also didn’t need to do another calibration. 

　　[Actor Identity has been filled, send hiring notice? Yes/No] 

　　Zong Qi chose ‘Yes’. 

　　What he didn’t know was that this simple action caused the other system’s side to fans in huge waves. 

　　[Actor List shall be sent this afternoon, ‘Beginner Director Guide’ has been placed in your bag] 

　　After everything was done, the black-haired youth put his phone back into his pocket, lost in thought. 

　　He’s understood basically everything about Minor Plots and Improvisational Theatre, but he knew nothing about Major Plots. Even the Actor System… At least now he can confirm that there were indeed people who had a system similar to his. 

　　But why did the Director System choose him? 

　　Was it because he was some unfortunate Directing student who got his graduation postponed? 

　　Zong Qi thought. 

　　Everything about the Horror Film Director was shrouded in fog, just like that mysterious organisation. The only difference between them was that one was helping him while the other was harming him. 

　　Soon, the first movement of E Minor had finished playing and the steaming hot tea had been cooled down. 

　　As Zong Qi was deep in his thoughts, the closed door finally opened. 

　　“I apologise for the wait, there was an urgent matter to deal with.” 

　　The psychology professor closed the door behind him and smiled apologetically, “If there’s nothing else, how about you go back first?” 

　　“Regarding Professor Cheng… I don’t like such stiff rules and regulations and prefer more of a freestyle. I have an exhibition next weekend, I’ll contact you then and trouble you to be my assistant.” 

　　”Compared to sitting in the class and looking at boring paintings, this is certainly much funner, isn’t it?” Yu Chenxue winked. 

　　Zong Qi stared, quickly bowing to him, “Of course, thank you.” 

　　His mind was still blank after leaving his contact information. 

　　Zong Qi never thought he’d get such a relaxed schedule without using any effort at all. 

　　Most practical course retakes required the student to go to class together with the art students. But Professor Yu was an angel and reduced Zong Qi’s stress by half. Besides, watching exhibitions was far more exciting than differentiating art types in class, especially when he had the chance to experience being an artist’s assistant. 

　　Professor Yu is so kind. Zong Qi couldn’t help but sigh in his heart. 

　　Not only was he a new generation artist, but also the Psychology Professor of Shou Du University and good looking. He had both looks and brain, graceful and warm, having him was a blessing from God. 

　　　……

　　In the relaxing background music, the white-haired professor took off his glasses. 

　　The eyes were the windows to one’s soul. Just like artists leaving the eyes to be drawn last, they determined someone’s temperament. 

　　Yu Chenxue’s silver glasses didn’t have a degree, it was merely an accessory. 

　　After taking them off, his cold, ocean blue, eyes were revealed, looking completely different from the previously graceful and kind professor. 

　　Under normal circumstances, Yu Chenxue would never take off his glasses. 

　　But…. 

　　He walked to the front of the window, watching his silhouette from far above. 

　　Zong Qi would never know that the documents recording his childhood to adulthood would be sent to the table he just drank tea from. To the mysterious master of the Ouroboros Organisation. 

　　His parents were dead and he was raised by his grandfather and grandmother. 

　　His grandfather disappeared when he was 7 and his grandmother was sick from Year 3 of Highschool. To treat his grandmother, he secretly sold their only home, but in the end, under the hands of fate, the old woman died right before he graduated, leaving him completely alone. 

　　The rest of the document was written based on the listening device they implanted, detailing the entire process of him dealing with the serial killer in Jujube Mental Hospital. 

　　He recalled the black-haired youth fidgetting in his seat, hesitating to describe the insanity he felt from the painting and carefully peaking at him to make sure he wasn’t mad. The man’s lips hooked upwards, the annoyance he felt from the phone call dissipated. 

　　Kind, full of justice, and always positive. He wasn’t afraid of any obstacles and glowed in his way. 

　　Just like a piece of blank paper, waiting for an artist’s paint, leaving all the marks they wished to. 

　　It’s been a long time since he’s found a lamb his type.

　　Yu Chenxue hummed. 

The author has something to say:

77: Professor Yu is so kind! (goodpersoncard.jpg)

Professor Yu:?