Chapter 47: A Private Lesson

Liao Yuan listened quietly to Liao Meiqi’s month-long laments. He did not interrupt his sister’s outpouring, for he knew that words offered in such a moment would bring no comfort. He understood Meiqi well; when faced with an absolute turning point of fate, she would choose the right path. And at this moment, his best course was simply to listen in silence, to absorb all of Meiqi’s stress, panic, and weakness—every negative emotion she needed to shed.

When Liao Meiqi had finally recounted every event of the past month, Liao Yuan smiled and said, “Not bad at all!”

Meiqi began to cry even harder. “Brother, how is this not bad? It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“Have you ever heard of the ten-thousand-hour rule?” Liao Yuan countered.

Meiqi said nothing; only the faint sound of sobbing came through the phone.

Liao Yuan explained, “There’s a study that shows to become an expert in any field, you need a full ten thousand hours of practice. If you work eight hours a day, five days a week, it will take at least five years to reach that level. That’s the ten-thousand-hour rule.”

It was clear this was the first time Meiqi had heard of such a rule; her sobs gradually faded as she asked, “Really?”

“It’s true. There’s evidence for it. For example, the musical prodigy Mozart—by his sixth birthday, his musician father had already guided him through 3,500 hours of practice. By the time he wrote his most celebrated Ninth Concerto at twenty-one, imagine how many hours he’d already devoted. In countless studies, scientists have found that whether it’s composers, basketball players, novelists, pianists, or chess masters, this number—ten thousand—appears again and again.”

Liao Yuan smiled. “The key to this rule is that ten thousand hours is the absolute minimum, with no exceptions. No one reaches world-class level with just 3,000 hours, or even 7,500. It doesn’t matter who you are.”

“Just like you, brother!”

Meiqi’s spirits visibly lifted. “You’re living proof of the ten-thousand-hour rule! I understand now, brother. I’ll work hard, too. I’ll put in my own ten thousand hours and become as outstanding as you!”

Liao Yuan smiled and asked, “Do you still want to give up?”

Before Meiqi could answer, he continued, “Meiqi, I watched you grow up; I know your resilience. I believe you’ll persist—now, and always, wherever you are, when you face hardship, you won’t shrink back. You won’t give up.”

“Because that’s your dream.”

A dream!

Liao Meiqi felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head, jolting her awake. Her brother’s words resounded like thunder, etching themselves forever in her heart.

“I, Liao Meiqi, will never give up!”

…

When his sister faced hardship or doubt, all Liao Yuan could truly do was offer her encouragement. Whether or not these words had any effect was unimportant—life is an unnamed river, deep or shallow, one must cross it oneself, and no one else can bear that burden for her.

Her growth, her transformation, her anger, sorrow, joy, and fear along the way—all these were hers to shoulder alone.

Only through such a baptism of experience could her life accumulate enough wisdom, and only then could she truly grow.

In this way, even if he were to leave her one day, even if he could no longer stand by her side, she would still be able to walk forward with her head held high, striding confidently into a brilliant life.

More than anyone, Liao Yuan understood this truth.

Especially in the complex and ever-shifting world of entertainment, Liao Meiqi would have to cultivate independence and self-assurance if she hoped to carve out her own path. Her future would be filled with both applause and slander; if she managed to reach the summit, the pressures of public opinion would crash down upon her. Without a strong heart, the onslaught of depression, anger, and sadness could only lead to self-destruction in the end.

People often say celebrities are useless, that they have popularity and no ability; such opinions are foolish and laughable. Anyone who achieves success and stands firm in this industry possesses cunning, resourcefulness, depth, and a host of abilities that undergo true transformation.

Such people could find success in any field.

The weak see only the glamorous surface of the strong, but never the effort and sweat behind their achievements.

…

After ending her call with her brother, Liao Meiqi’s entire spirit seemed transformed, astonishing the production team.

Meanwhile, on the other end, Director Fu Yuntao took the phone and hurriedly said, “Mr. Liao, wait, please don’t hang up.”

Liao Yuan paused, then smiled. “Director Fu?”

“That’s right, it’s me.” Fu Yuntao laughed heartily. “Mr. Liao, about that matter we discussed—have you given it any thought?”

“You really want to shoot ‘The Candle in the Tomb’?” Liao Yuan asked.

Fu Yuntao nodded. “Very much so. Ever since the day ‘The Candle in the Tomb’ entered my mind, I’ve dreamed every night of those strange and wondrous scenes. They feel as if they were born in my mind. Whenever I close my eyes, Hu Bayi, Wang Kaixuan, Swallow—all those characters appear before me, waving, smiling…”

Liao Yuan fell silent, pondering the story of repaying kindness in turn.

After a moment, he said slowly, “Director Fu, ‘The Candle in the Tomb: The Lost City of Jingjue’ is complete. I hope you won’t squander this effort. Before the crew is formally established, I’d like to be personally involved in the casting, scriptwriting, and shooting process.”

Fu Yuntao was momentarily stunned, then his face broke into wild joy. “You’ve agreed?”

“I have,” Liao Yuan nodded.

Fu Yuntao suddenly felt a tingling in his nose and a prickle of tears. He took a deep breath, suppressing his excitement, and laughed, “Mr. Liao, I haven’t even named a figure for the rights, and you’ve agreed. Aren’t you being a bit hasty?”

“I believe in you,” Liao Yuan replied with a faint smile. “You won’t let me down.”

After finalizing their meeting, Fu Yuntao hung up and paced back and forth in the rehearsal room, muttering to himself, looking for all the world like a madman.

He, too, was contemplating the story of repaying kindness in return.

Suddenly, he looked up at Liao Meiqi, his eyes lighting up.

After a brief pause, he called out, “Shanzhi, would you like a solo shot?”

Liao Meiqi looked bewildered. “What?”

“Someone bring Meiqi her guitar!” he called to the crew. “All units, get ready—we’ll shoot this segment, and I’ll treat you all to a bonus meal later!”

Though the entire crew was thoroughly confused, at the mention of a bonus meal, everyone perked up and hurried to switch their cameras back on.

Soon enough, someone brought over Liao Meiqi’s performance guitar.

Cradling the guitar, Meiqi was still at a loss. “Director, what’s going on?”

Fu Yuntao laughed. “Tonight, ‘Produce 101’ is going to air. After tonight, you’ll have thousands, even tens of thousands, of fans—there’s no doubt. This is the conclusion reached by both our crew and the entire panel of mentors. ‘Produce 101’ is airing simultaneously on all three top video platforms in the country, as well as on Donghai TV. It’s already a hit before it even airs, with an audience sure to exceed a hundred million. Stardom is inevitable. And in the first episode, your screen time is the highest! Shanzhi, do you know what screen time means?”

Meiqi nodded vigorously.

Fu Yuntao’s expression grew serious, his gaze deep. “For any variety show, it isn’t difficult for the production team to make someone a star: just give them more shots. But some people are hopeless no matter what you do—the more you try to push them, the more their own negative qualities destroy not only themselves but the whole show. That’s why, even when people ask me privately to help out, I usually refuse. If someone can’t be made into a star, there’s no point trying. But you’re different: you have talent and looks. With both, you’re bound to stand out in this team, perhaps even in the whole industry.”

“Your greatest asset is your singing. What I can do now is amplify that strength. But honestly, one strength alone isn’t enough to make you truly famous. There are too many top singers in this business who end up having to find side jobs. Why is that? I hope you’ve given it some thought.”

“In this team, your weakness is also obvious—dancing! To be honest, though you made it into Class A at your first audition, not many expected you to actually debut with the final group. But just then, you gave our whole production team another highlight—your hard work!”

“Your effort will become a talking point for the times. Society needs that kind of positive energy. It doesn’t matter if you can’t dance—you just need to work at it. Audiences love to see hard work; they hope to find resonance in you. In this era, everyone wants to be someone who works hard, but most give up halfway. In that sense, you become their shadow, moving forward in their stead.”

“To put it simply, this is an idol training show. What audiences most want to see is you growing step by step, from an unknown to a superstar known at home and abroad!”

Meiqi, still a bit confused, asked, “Director, after all that, what exactly do you want me to do?”

Fu Yuntao: “…”

He suddenly realized that unless it was Mr. Liao himself doing the talking, no amount of motivational speech would have much effect on Meiqi…

How strange!

At that moment, the assistant director Liu Hai spoke up with envy: “Are you silly? Director Fu is giving you a special opportunity—a solo shot! That’s something people dream of. Hurry up and thank Director Fu!”

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PS: Three updates today. My neighborhood was without power all day—stifling and hot. The electricity just came back; this is the first update.