Chapter 1: The Rebirth of a Fallen Director
October, 2002.
Dormitory of the Acting Department, Beijing Film Academy.
"Qingzi, wake up! Come on, wake up!"
Amid the haze of unconsciousness, an urgent voice rang in his ears, like a stone breaking the stillness of stagnant water.
Zhou Qing's consciousness stirred from the endless darkness. Slowly, he opened his eyes.
Two faces immediately filled his blurry vision—familiar, yet strangely youthful—both wearing expressions of concern.
"Zhu Yawen? Luo Jin?"
Zhou Qing was stunned. What the hell was going on?
The last thing he remembered was a car accident. Logically, he should've woken up in a hospital.
But this clearly wasn't a hospital.
And Zhu Yawen and Luo Jin? What were they doing here?
These were A-list actors—why on earth would they be visiting a washed-up web film director like him?
It didn't make any sense. Complete nonsense.
But that wasn't even the weirdest part...
"Why do you both look so young? Like fresh-faced idols?"
Zhou Qing racked his brain, but he just couldn't make sense of it.
Then, suddenly, a torrent of memories flooded into his mind, crashing into and merging with his own.
Zhou Qing froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
Reincarnation—something that only happens in novels and TV dramas—had actually happened to him.
He was no longer the struggling, middle-aged director whose career barely scraped by in the web film scene.
Now, he was a freshman student at the Beijing Film Academy's class of 2002.
And Zhu Yawen and Luo Jin were his roommates.
What the hell kind of twisted timeline is this?
"Qingzi, what are you mumbling about? Still dreaming?" Zhu Yawen looked a little uncomfortable. Zhou Qing was acting seriously off.
Luo Jin reached out and touched Zhou Qing's forehead. "No fever…"
Smack!
Zhou Qing slapped his hand away and sat up abruptly. "Damn, what are you doing? Trying to cop a feel?"
"You're unbelievable. We were trying to help! It's already two in the afternoon and you were still out cold. We called and shook you like crazy! You sure you're okay?"
Luo Jin let out a breath of relief, but his worry hadn't fully disappeared.
Even the heaviest sleeper shouldn't be out this long, unless they'd pulled an all-nighter—and Zhou Qing clearly hadn't.
"What could be wrong? You two move, I, your emperor, must rise and dress."
Waving them off, Zhou Qing pushed his stunned roommates out the door and rushed to the bathroom.
"So this… is the me of this life?"
Staring at the unfamiliar face in the mirror, Zhou Qing felt a strange sense of disorientation.
Not bad-looking—above average, even. He had managed to get into the Beijing Film Academy, after all. His looks were decent enough to pass.
But only just passable. In the entertainment industry, that was nothing more than being a face in the crowd.
That's the perfect summary of his past self: ordinary.
Average looks. Average talent. Average family background.
His parents ran a small restaurant—enough to afford his film school tuition, but not a cent more.
If he wanted to make it in this bottomless pit called showbiz, he'd have to do it alone.
And to be honest, Zhou Qing didn't have much faith in his past self's prospects. The industry was brutal.
There were already countless examples of gorgeous, talented actors who never made it. What hope did someone average have?
In fact, that was the norm.
Every year, thousands entered the industry. Only a handful became stars. The rest were swallowed by the tide.
Even with the foresight of a reincarnator, Zhou Qing didn't feel confident.
Sure, maybe he knew what shows would explode in the future, what movies would be blockbusters—but knowing didn't mean he could get into them.
He had no edge, no connections, no background. Why would anyone choose him?
Unless he signed with an agency.
But with his current profile, even getting signed was uncertain. And even if he did sign, there was no guarantee he'd be taken seriously.
And honestly? As a man reborn, Zhou Qing didn't want to be anyone's corporate puppet.
More than acting, what he truly wanted… was to direct.
That had been his obsession in his previous life.
But being a director? That was even harder than acting.
Actors brought in money. Directors needed people to spend money.
And if you had no reputation, no portfolio—who would invest in you?
But if you didn't get investment, how could you ever build a reputation?
It was a vicious cycle. Just like in his last life—he barely scraped by as a web film director into his forties.
Looking at his past self's circumstances, Zhou Qing couldn't help but frown.
This… was going to be tough.
Someone like this really wasn't cut out for showbiz.
Am I really going to waste this second life just stumbling around again?
He clenched his fists. No. He wasn't going to accept that.
[Ding! The Ultimate Entertainment System has been successfully bound.]
A robotic voice echoed in his mind, followed by a glowing status panel appearing in his vision.
Host: Zhou Qing
Voice: 45
Diction: 51
Body Movement: 64
Acting: 62
Singing: 49
Directing: 52
Other Skills: None
Available Attribute Points: 0
"A system? My golden finger has arrived!"
Zhou Qing blinked in surprise, then broke into a grin.
Reincarnators always get a cheat—so the webnovels didn't lie!
With this "Ultimate Entertainment System," reaching the pinnacle of showbiz, winning Best Actor or Best Director, wasn't just a dream anymore.
All his earlier anxiety was blown away. Zhou Qing felt like he could conquer the world.
[System initialization complete. Newcomer Gift Pack available—please claim.]
A starter pack? Even better!
"Claim it!" he shouted mentally without hesitation.
[Success! Congratulations, Host, you've received 40 free attribute points!]
"Yes! Perfect timing!"
Zhou Qing's excitement was practically overflowing. This gift pack was a godsend.
No matter which stat he boosted, the improvement would be game-changing.
He could max out his acting right now!
And 100 points in acting… that would mean world-class performance. Top of the line.
Insane!
This system was ridiculously overpowered.
Zhou Qing almost wanted to kneel and worship it.
But after calming down, he gave it a second thought—and made a different decision.
Acting? What's the point in boosting that right now?
If anything, he should boost directing.
He'd spent his last life stuck as a third-rate web director. This time, he wanted to reinvent himself.
Without hesitation, Zhou Qing dumped all 40 points into his directing stat.
> Directing: 92
The numbers on his panel immediately shifted.
"Haha! Almost maxed out. I wonder if this counts as world-class level now?"
Zhou Qing's eyes sparkled. He was filled with anticipation—more fired up than he had ever been.
In both lives, he had never felt this powerful.