“Any character you feel affection for will do.” Xiao Luobing thought it best to start with a scene that involved a character he had positive feelings toward, to see how he performed when his emotions were engaged.
“If I have to pick one… then that girl who said I was ‘gentle,’” Fei Yangyao answered without hesitation.
Previously, he’d mentioned that Jiang Anran was his favorite female lead when he read the novel.
However, Fei Yangyao naturally equated the character with the real person, thinking nothing of it. But this small detail didn’t escape Xiao Luobing’s notice.
Female character? Not actress?
She had already sensed something strange earlier—this “Zhao Jinfei” seemed to confuse the difference between a character and an actor. Now she was certain. He hadn’t misspoken by accident; he genuinely believed they were the same.
There were only two possible explanations for that: either he thought the two were identical and had mentally merged them, or the actor and the character actually were the same person…
Was it a case where actors were literally playing themselves? Or was there something else going on?
“The other one? The one who said you were ‘gentle’?” she asked again just to be sure.
“Yes, that one,” he said casually.
“…”
It was obvious now. The line ‘Your expressions and words may deceive, but the tenderness in your eyes cannot’ wasn’t a line from a script—it was the actress’s personal remark.
“You’ve clearly fallen into a misconception!” Xiao Luobing said. Even if the mistake didn’t affect much, as a teacher, she felt obliged to correct him.
“A misconception?”
“Yes. You must understand—an actor is not the same as the role. You have to separate the two! Think about that deeply and grasp it completely.”
Actor ≠ Character?
Fei Yangyao fell into thought. He understood the literal meaning, of course, but he knew she wasn’t referring to something so simple. He just hadn’t yet comprehended her deeper point.
Seeing him genuinely ponder, Xiao Luobing smiled in satisfaction. Such a serious student was rare these days. But time was running short…
“Think more about this when you get home. For now, let’s continue. Recreate your scene with that female character again, following the same process as before.”
Fei Yangyao froze.
A scene? But there shouldn’t even be a scene between us!
I’m not supposed to know her!
Her showing up around me at all is already something that shouldn’t have happened!
Still, there was one scene he could use—their first meeting at the flower shop.
Maybe Miss Liang could see something he couldn’t.
“Alright.”
Aside from simplifying and omitting any details about his identity, he reenacted that encounter exactly as it happened. He also explained Jiang Anran’s and Uncle Fu’s parts in the scene so Xiao Luobing could play along and recreate it faithfully (or at least as he thought it was).
Thirty minutes later. (For reference, see Chapter 5.)
“Emotionally, this scene wasn’t bad,” Xiao Luobing said after watching him, “but your performance was a bit exaggerated. It felt like the stereotypical villain in those cliché urban Dragon King novels.” The source of this chapter is NovelPing.
To her, aside from a few common rookie mistakes—mainly overacting—his performance was otherwise passable.
“…” You’re right, Fei Yangyao thought. It really is an urban Dragon King novel.
What was it like being roasted about your own novel by one of its characters? Fei Yangyao had just found out. It was… surreal, and vaguely insulting.
Still, just like the previous scene, he felt that if he hadn’t underestimated things, if he’d simply taken it a bit more seriously, he could have easily nailed it.
But even so… his exaggerated acting shouldn’t have had anything to do with what happened afterward.
Although Miss Liang had pointed out his performance flaws, she hadn’t solved the confusion weighing on his mind.
“Riiing—” His phone buzzed, signaling the end of class.
“That’s enough for today,” Xiao Luobing said. “Zhao Jinfei, in the first scene you failed to immerse yourself in the role, and in the second you went too far. These are common mistakes for beginners, but with proper training, you’ll be fine. And remember—a role is a role, an actor is an actor. They are not the same.”
“Got it. Thank you, Miss Liang.” Fei Yangyao replied politely. With his mask on, he didn’t need to act the villain—thanking her didn’t break character.
“Alright. Let’s add each other on VX. If you have questions, we’ll talk there.”
“My alt account? Let me check.”
His main VX account, “Fei Shao,” was infamous—he definitely couldn’t use that.
Though his inherited memories weren’t complete, he vaguely recalled having two accounts.
If the main one was off-limits, he’d just use the secondary one.
Opening his VX, he found it. The alt account’s username was [Lone Warrior].
“Miss Liang, add [Lone Warrior] through radar.”
“Okay.”
Fei Yangyao found it odd—he didn’t remember ever using this account, and yet it had no chat history.
How was he supposed to know what this account was used for?
He opened the contacts list—and froze. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of contacts, all with bizarre notes.
He scrolled further and… solved the mystery.
Good heavens. It’s a ticketing account.
Most of the names looked like this: [College Student Zhang Xinyao], [College Student Xu Feifei], [College Student Xue Ying]…
Zhang Xinyao… Xu Feifei… Xue Ying…
College girls? Seriously?
Fei Yangyao, you beast… How are you even physically surviving this many?
Wang Kai!?
That’s a guy’s name!
So he played that wild, huh?
Fei Yangyao’s back muscles involuntarily tensed. Thankfully, nothing felt wrong… so at least he wasn’t on the receiving end. Half relieved, he scrolled on.
Then his face turned pale.
[High Schooler Li Na – once a year, Dec 16], [Middle Schooler Zeng Jing – every March and August 19], [Elementary Student Fu Qianyu – monthly, 15th].
What the hell!?
High schoolers were already bad enough—but middle schoolers!? Elementary schoolers!?
And there were even notes marking dates and frequency?
In that instant, the perfect simp image of “villain Fei Yangyao” collapsed completely in his heart.
He never imagined that while this man chased his goddess so obsessively, he was privately doing things more vile than a beast!
If Fei Yangyao weren’t currently inhabiting this body, he would’ve called the police himself and had this scumbag arrested on the spot.
He swore he would never contact any of those people again.
Maybe he could make exceptions for the “college ones”?
No, absolutely not! Not a single one!
Fei Yangyao, how could you sink so low? You were supposed to be Gu Xiyue’s perfect simp!
The angels of morality and corruption battled in his mind, but the setting prevailed—lust was utterly defeated!
Aside from the student-type contacts, there were also plenty of names with unclear notes.
Just as he was staring at one that read [Director Changning Wang], wondering what kind of “director” this was supposed to be—
“Zhao… Zhao Jinfei, I’ve added you. See you next time. I have something to take care of, so I’ll head off first.”
Watching Miss Liang’s departing figure, Fei Yangyao felt something odd—her emotions seemed off, somehow.
Was it his imagination?
He shook his head, went to the counter to pay the bill, and then hailed a cab back to the hospital.
However, so shaken was he by the discovery of the ticketing account that he failed to notice one crucial detail—
He had never received the friend request notification!