Chapter 49: Chen Yingying's Opportunity!

When Garen spoke those words, the atmosphere between them shifted instantly, becoming more intimate and harmonious. The look in Chen Yingying’s eyes changed as well—shy, blossoming, words on the tip of her tongue yet held back.

“Yingying…” Garen’s throat was dry, his voice low and husky.

“Yes!” Chen Yingying nodded, closed her eyes, raised her head, arching her chest, “Come.”

Garen was surprised—was it possible that a single “I love you” could bring about such a wonderful moment? Impatient, they fell into each other’s arms, kissing as they tumbled onto the bed. This time, Garen’s hands refused to linger only on the fabric, but slipped beneath her clothes…

It was their first time touching so closely, and as he held her, Chen Yingying trembled, her tongue instinctively joining the dance, responding and countering. Sounds escaped her throat, her breathing growing more rapid.

An hour passed. Garen, no longer satisfied with just caressing her upper body, let his hand drift downward, pausing at her waist—smooth as jade, soft and impossible to release. Yet, his curiosity got the better of him, and he moved on.

Chen Yingying was trembling all over, lost in passion, her senses clouded. Without her noticing, Garen’s hand slipped in along the waistband of her trousers.

The moment his fingertips grazed her secret place, Chen Yingying suddenly snapped to attention, gripping Garen’s wrist tightly, her voice a mix of alarm and pleading, “Don’t… please…”

Garen stopped, but did not withdraw his hand, “Just one touch.”

“No!” Chen Yingying bit her lip, “Not there…”

“Just once! Trust me, really!”

As he spoke, Garen gently stroked with his middle finger, prompting Chen Yingying to clench her legs, tugging at his wrist, “Not now! Maybe… tonight…”

Her voice was barely audible, but Garen felt a jolt of excitement. Tonight? Did she mean tonight was possible?

He looked at her in delight, “You said it! Tonight?”

“Hmph!” Chen Yingying lowered her head, shyly reprimanding him, “Take your hand out!”

Garen laughed heartily, finally withdrawing his hand. There was a trace of moisture on his middle finger; he dabbed it on her face. “Look, what’s this?”

“You’re awful! That’s dirty!” Chen Yingying pushed Garen away and sprang from the bed, hurrying off to the bathroom.

Garen lay back, gazing at the ceiling, grinning to himself, bringing his hand to his nose for a sniff, chuckling.

…

At noon, Garen drove Chen Yingying to Wu Chaoyang’s home.

The door was opened by a middle-aged woman. From her attire and manner, Garen immediately recognized her as Wu Chaoyang’s wife and greeted her politely, “Hello, Mrs. Wu, I’m Garen.”

Chen Yingying quickly followed, “Hello, I’m Chen Yingying.”

“Oh, oh! Hello, hello!” The woman smiled warmly, “Don’t call me Mrs. Wu, just call me Sister Yu!”

“All right, Sister Yu!” Garen smiled, and he and Chen Yingying entered.

Upon stepping inside, they heard Li Ronghao and Wu Chaoyang laughing and discussing tea leaves.

“Ah, Garen, you’re here!”

Li Ronghao stood up, catching sight of Chen Yingying beside Garen, and exclaimed, “Oh, is this your girlfriend? She’s beautiful!”

“Thank you! Her name is Chen Yingying,” Garen said, introducing her further, “This is Professor Li Ronghao—he’s not only our company’s boss, but also a professor in the Sound Engineering Department at North Film Academy!”

“Hello, Professor Li!” Chen Yingying said promptly.

“Oh, boss, professor, it’s all just a title!” Li Ronghao waved his hand, clearly pleased by their words.

Wu Chaoyang remarked from the side, “Old Li, you should have been made full professor at the university ages ago. How many years has it been?”

“Who can say? Our department’s only two full professors are nearly sixty, about to retire. Who knows if they’ll free up a spot?” Li Ronghao looked dispirited.

Noticing the topic had touched a nerve, Garen shifted the conversation, introducing Wu Chaoyang to Chen Yingying, “Yingying, this is my agent, Brother Wu!”

“Hello, Brother Wu!” Chen Yingying smiled.

“She’s a wonderful girl! Garen, you’re a lucky man—be good to her!” Wu Chaoyang’s advice made Garen nod repeatedly. “Of course!”

“Then I’ll be waiting for your wedding banquet!” Wu Chaoyang joked, then turned to Chen Yingying, “So, young lady, where are you studying now?”

“I’ll be doing preparatory studies at home for the next half year,” Chen Yingying replied helplessly, “I haven’t found a school yet.”

“Oh? Preparatory?” Li Ronghao was surprised, “You didn’t pass the college entrance exam?”

“No.” Chen Yingying nodded, embarrassed.

Garen quickly explained, “Professor Li, she studies Peking Opera. The Drama Academy was tough this year, so she didn’t get in. She’s planning to try again next year.”

“The Drama Academy?” Li Ronghao frowned, “You mean the Chinese Drama Academy?”

“Yes.” Garen answered for her; Chen Yingying nodded as well.

Li Ronghao asked, “There are so many schools that admit Peking Opera students. Didn’t you try any others?”

“No,” Chen Yingying shook her head. “It was my first attempt—I didn’t understand the process and only wanted to go to the Chinese Drama Academy. When I failed, I just went home.”

“I see…” Li Ronghao stroked his chin, thinking for a moment, then turned to Garen, “Garen, you’ve been in the capital for years now. Why didn’t you consider this for her?”

“I… I really didn’t know!” Garen protested, “I only graduated from a technical arts school myself.”

Seeing Garen’s aggrieved expression, Chen Yingying jumped to his defense, “Professor Li, please don’t blame him. I was too single-minded. Next year, I’ll apply to several schools.”

“No need to wait for next year!”

Unexpectedly, Li Ronghao said, “Yingying, let me ask you—would you be willing to attend the Central Academy of Drama?”

“Huh?” Chen Yingying was momentarily stunned, then replied, “Central Drama?”

“Yes. They also have a Peking Opera department, which split from the Acting Department two years ago. They admit twenty students each year—you know about it, right?”

“I do!” Chen Yingying replied with a wry smile, “But Central Drama is much harder to get into than the National Drama Academy. The latter is overseen by the city’s education committee, but Central Drama is under the Ministry of Education—it’s not easy to get in.”

“If I can arrange a recommendation for you, would you go?” Li Ronghao asked with a grin.

“A recommendation? Is that possible at a domestic university?”

Not only Chen Yingying, but Garen was also astonished.

“Of course!” Li Ronghao replied, “It’s normal for arts colleges. The Peking Opera department at Central Drama admits through special channels. Didn’t your art school have students recommended to the National Drama Academy?”

“Yes, but those were students who had won awards in competitions or had training agreements with government troupes. That’s the only way.”

“You can do it too,” Li Ronghao smiled. “I have a classmate who’s a graduate advisor in the Musical Theatre Department at Central Drama, and his wife happens to teach Peking Opera performance. I’ll ask them to recommend you, then find a suitable competition—get you any award, and you’ll be ready for September enrollment.”

Chen Yingying’s face showed both joy and worry. “Is that really possible? But what if I don’t win at the competition?”

“Don’t worry—if I promise, it’ll be handled,” Li Ronghao said, casting a glance at Garen, signaling him.

Garen understood at once—Li Ronghao had something else to discuss. He reassured Chen Yingying, “Don’t overthink it. With such a good opportunity, take it! There’s a shadow behind every aspect of education—just trust us.”

“Oh! I…” Chen Yingying turned to Garen, “Do you really think this will work?”

“Absolutely!” Garen smiled. “Go call your family and let them know. Don’t rush home. Wait till your admissions are settled.”

“All right!” Chen Yingying beamed, grabbing her phone and heading to the balcony.

Once she left, Li Ronghao drew Garen aside, “Garen, whether this works depends on one thing.”

He made a money gesture. Garen understood instantly, “Professor Li, name your price—whatever it takes, I’ll make it happen.”

“Let me break it down,” Li Ronghao said. “My classmate will do it for ten thousand or so—less and they won’t bother, more and they won’t take it out of respect. The competition will depend on region and judges; a few thousand should suffice. As for tuition, students admitted through regular channels don’t pay, but you’ll likely pay the same as the Acting Department’s students. Just be prepared.”

“No problem—as long as it works.”

Garen listened carefully, calculating—altogether, it would cost tens of thousands. He had plenty saved; his recent contract with Five Star had netted him nearly a million after taxes, plus another million from commercial performances with All Happy.

He hadn’t spent much lately, hadn’t even sent money home yet. He’d planned to go back with Chen Yingying, report his progress to the family, so they wouldn’t suspect anything when a large sum suddenly appeared.

Chen Yingying returned from the balcony, holding her phone, and shyly asked Li Ronghao, “Professor Li, my parents are worried I might be deceived. Could you explain to them?”

“No problem!”

Li Ronghao took the phone, smiling, “Hello! Yes, I’m Li Ronghao, associate professor at North Film Academy. You can check the faculty roster online. Yes, I happened to hear Chen Yingying’s Peking Opera singing—she’s excellent. Yes, it’s a pity she didn’t get into the National Drama Academy…”