Director of a Suspense Film

Ch10.2 – Yu Chenxue

　　The next day, Zong Qi slept in, took the MRT to Jiang Zhou University and paid for his tuition fees.

　　Before he went out, he had kindly asked Xiao Hong if she needed anything but the only response he got was the wind slamming the door shut. 

　　Sigh, whatever, I’ll just buy anything that looks nice on the way. I’m a kind boss that cares for their workers after all. 

　　Zong Qi pocketed his hands and thought cheerfully. 

　　“Ring— Ring—” 

　　He had coincidentally walked out when the bell rang. Soong, a large batch of students from all the buildings swarmed over. Some went back to their dorms while others were rushing to their next class, it felt as if the whole road was a sea of heads. 

　　It was currently the end of summer, the sun was high in the sky and the glaring sunlight shot down from above. Under the shelter of cicadas and luscious leaves, it fell onto the asphalt pavement and formed spots of light. 

　　It landed on the young man’s hair, blurring the black over his shoulder, the white shirt he had on glowed together with it. It looked like his person, clean and transparent. 

　　“Look over there, look over there! Woah!” 

　　“I’ve never seen him on the confession wall before… Which department is he in?” (t/n: didn’t know confession walls existed, its in unis and stuff to help people make friends and confess when they dont have the courage to)

　　“Nonsense! He must be one of the new students from the Acting Department.” 

　　Seeing that thin figure, everyone wanted a piece. 

　　The Acting Department had no shortage of good looking people— a whole batch of handsome men and beautiful women. Almost all the school flowers and grasses were them. (t/n: school flower/grass: most beautiful girl/boy in school) (e/n: hahahahaha…school grass.)(t/n: i had nothing else okkkkk)

　　Although the black-haired youth looked pretty… When put into the society, his beauty wasn’t one at the top, it was only his clean and transparent temperament that stood out from the rest. 

　　Zong Qi didn’t care about these mumbles and whispers, making a beeline for the Theatre Department, completely unaware that his junior brothers and sisters had been given the impression that he was a new student. 

　　It could only be blamed on the fact that Zong Qi’s four years in University was too frantic.

　　His dream in Year 12 at that time was to get into Jiang Zhou University in this state, giving up the chance to enter Shou Du University— which had a very high chance of accepting him with the marks he got. 

　　Then because his grandma had been sick, he chose not to stay in dorms, running from school and hospital and vice versa every day, sleeping on the bed next to the hospital bed at night. 

　　With that, except for showing his face during class in the morning, Zong Qi was basically absent the rest of the time. He didn’t join a club and lots of gatherings he had called in sick, so for students not to recognise him wasn’t weird. Even Zong Qi himself couldn’t recall anyone in his class except for a few class reps that he usually talks to.

　　Zong Qi knocked on the office door anxiously. 

　　“You little bastard!” 

　　The moment Cheng Xiu saw someone, he flew into a rage. 

　　This old professor had a head of white, yet his spirit was still that of a young man. He curled up a piece of paper and knocked it against the black-haired youth. 

　　“You’re really amazing huh? I give you a chance to retake the exam and you still dare to stand me up?” 

　　There were so many students every year and some big classes had to be taken across majors so most professors of old age tend not to remember their students’ names.

　　But Zong Qi was like a shining, glittering strange bean. He was strange in a way that he didn’t have any appreciation for beauty, almost as if he was an alien mixing in with the humans. Yet he still answered questions in class enthusiastically, successfully making the old Professor Cheng— whose memory was deteriorating— firmly remember his name and face. 

　　Too bad that under the face of his miserable practical results, remembering his face was also useless.  

　　Professor Cheng had a guilty conscience after giving him a fail, thus giving him a second chance. Under the rules of Jiang Zhou University, practical course reexaminations need to be taken a month after school starts and it’ll be considered a pass.

　　Coincidentally, Zong Qi had received a notice from the hospital that his grandma was critically ill, so he never took the exam. Missing the reexamination, he naturally needed to retake the entire course.

　　“Ai, stop hitting him, professor, the child will be beaten stupid.” 

　　Zong Qi was extremely diligent in being sorry, covering his head in both hands as he pretended to be a good student. 

　　“I know I’m wrong. This child knows he’s wrong for real this time!”

　　Professor Cheng really believed it.

　　The old man scoffed and stopped his actions. 

　　In order to reduce his burden, Zong Qi gets scholarships every year. The teacher also knows a bit about his family situation. The old professor saw that he didn’t try to explain anything and understood. 

　　But rules couldn’t be changed. Since he didn’t retake the exam, retaking the course was as absolute as hammering a nail, shortcuts couldn’t be taken. 

　　“Alright, alright.”

　　The professor put on his reading glasses and took out a paper from the drawer, a signature signed on it. 

　　“Bring this to the Arts Department and find the guest professor from Shou Du University. For the rest of the term you’ll be listening to him, this is your practical course retake.” 

　　A guest professor and a hired professor were different. It was an honorary title. 

　　Shou Du University was always number 1 in their annual rankings, so getting the position of guest professor wasn’t easy. It was either someone who made outstanding contributions to the country and was specially hired from the National Research Institute to assist in research, or it was a big boss who had mastered the skills in a certain industry, or a celebrity who held great influence in the society.

　　“An Art professor?” Zong Qi received the document curiously. 

　　This was an Aesthetics Appreciation Class, so finding an Art professor wasn’t wrong. But he was curious as to why the old man didn’t teach him personally, finding another professor instead. 

　　The old professor frowned, “Teach you another term? You think I’ve been alive for too long, don’t you?” 

　　“Though the professor doesn’t teach Art as his main subject.”

　　He rushed Zong Qi out of his office, “Gogogo, this chance is something people would kill to get.” 

　　“You better be able to differentiate Cezanne and Monet when you come back!” 

　　The black-haired youth could only carry his documents and report to the Art Department, still confused. 

　　Unlike the modern style of the Acting Department, the Art Department was full of the feeling of postmodernism[1]. The architecture style wasn’t weird but was leaning more towards bizarre, deserving of the title ‘landmark of Jiang Zhou University’. 

　　“Huh? Looking for Professor Yu?” 

　　Carrying a large pile of art supplies, the teaching assistant that was just preparing to leave the office got a fright, “You might have caught him if you came last week. He just held a personal exhibition last week.” 

　　Personal exhibition? Zong Qi stared in astonishment. 

　　Although Jiang Zhou University couldn’t compare with Shou Du University, it was also one of the top schools within the country, there was naturally no need to doubt the professor’s qualifications. Especially since their Art department had been ahead in the rankings the past few years, their professor’s connections weren’t lacking either. 

　　For example, Professor Cheng from just now was the head of Ancient Greek Aesthetics. Or even using the professors from the Directing major. They may not seem like it, but they were all either retired directors or behind the scene’s practitioners in the industry. Their connections were large enough to take your breath away. 

　　There were also a few professors in the Art major that had gotten worldwide recognition, but this was the first time he’s seen a professor hold a personal exhibition in the block. 

　　“Then do you mind giving me a way to contact Professor Yu?” 

　　The assistant only laughed and said he was just a lackey running around and didn’t have that kind of authority, instead, he suggested that he go to the Psychology block. 

　　“Professor Yu is actually a Psychology professor, so his studio is there too. If your luck is good, you should be able to meet him but I can’t guarantee that you will. Professor Yu doesn’t stay in school much, he only comes for every week’s Open Class.” 

　　Zong Qi only found out now that the professor wasn’t in Art. 

　　He mainly taught psychology and holding an exhibition was just a personal hobby. He would hold open classes occasionally at any time he wanted to and the only similarity was that the hall would be full, without a single spare seat. 

　　Zong Qi couldn’t help but feel respect. 

　　He could tell it was an amazing teacher just based on descriptions alone. Especially after hearing from the assistant that Professor Yu was not only the criminal psychological counselling expert of the National Security Bureau but was also famous in the art industry. He was a talented and modern artist, making his recognition higher and higher. (t/n: ngl, i didnt understand this sentence at all but basically it just means hes young and rlly good so ppl know him and hes getting more and more famous because of it)

　　A professor specializing in criminal psychology and top tier drawing skills. 

　　No wonder Professor Cheng said this chance was something other people would never be able to get. The old professor was really determined to reshape the aesthetic taste this time. 

　　“Ai.” (e/n: this is supposed to be a sigh)

　　From the Directing Department to the Art Department to the Psychology Department, Zong Qi had walked through half the school before he found the professor’s office on the sixth floor of the Psychology Department. 

　　The Psychology Department had been built not long ago so there hadn’t been time to enrol anyone, classes were all held in the old block and the bottom few floors. Standing at the end of the corridor, he found the sixth floor was completely empty, the two doors on both sides were closed shut and all he could hear was his footsteps echoing. 

　　The office door had ‘Psychology Professor’ on it. 

　　“Yu Chenxue…?” 

　　This name made people feel extremely cold, elegant, and beyond the world. 

　　Zong Qi couldn’t help but think this. 

　　He reached out and prepared to knock. 

　　Creek— (t/n: door opening)

　　He didn’t expect that with just a little bit of strength, the door would follow the momentum and open, revealing a small slit. 

　　It isn’t locked? 

　　The black-haired youth stared, asking softly, “Is Professor Yu here?”

　　He asked three times but didn’t receive a reply.

　　The corridor was eerily quiet. 

　　Zong Qi looked at the time.

　　[11:30]

　　The professor with no classes was usually eating at this time. He’d have to wait till 2 before any of them would be back.

　　Zong Qi hadn’t eaten lunch and had even promised Xiao Hong one sidedly that he’d make her some food.

　　Although the other didn’t react in any way, Zong Qi paid emphasis to communicating with his workers and wanted to look good in front of Xiao Hong. 

　　Qi Ningzhou had mentioned before that quite a few fierce ghosts liked eating people. Zong Qi found that hard to believe.

　　They either forgot, or have never tried the delicacies of China. With so many good food choices, they chose to eat humans. No offense but even Dazai would be speechless. (t/n: no idea why dazai osamu is coming up here but some bg info… dazai is suicidal thats about all i know about him lmao everything else is from the anime but his novel no longer human was good so go read that :D) 

　　Zong Qi thought of an idea. What if he put the report and the files he just got onto Professor Yu’s desk and left his contact information? Then he wouldn’t have to stand outside and wait for 2 hours. 

　　“I’ll come in now then.” 

　　He pushed the unlocked door open. 

　　A spotless studio appeared in front of him. 

　　One side of the studio had been redesigned into a large glass pane, on both sides hung clean blackout curtains and a lake could be seen below, encompassing half of Jiang Zhou University. 

　　The glaring sunlight shone through glass, swimming on the light brown wooden floor as the air conditioner continued whirring, reducing the light particles into pieces. 

　　But the most noticeable thing was still the drawings placed on the easels everywhere— most of which were oil paintings with a few traditional pieces mixed into it. 

　　Zong Qi had been surprised that such a large office wasn’t used by multiple professors and was instead Professor Yu’s personal studio at first. But he had been distracted by the oil paintings soon after. 

　　Of course, with Zong Qi’s aesthetic taste, he couldn’t interpret anything. He only felt that the people in the drawings looked like real people and the background was very beautiful, though there were a few canvases with only a few messy strokes on it.  

　　As he moved forward, he found that the colours of the paintings became more mottled and complex, the strokes were done rougher on purpose. It was like placing a dark veil over your eyes, tearing off the pretence of serenity and was filled with anxiety and conflict, going infinitely closer to the concept of ‘Stream of Consciousness[2]. 

　　Zong Qi’s breath lightened without him knowing. 

　　He looked at the last piece.

　　The large oil painting almost took up the entire wall, the grey veil slipped off the easel and landed on the ground, revealing the painting in its full glory. 

　　It was, without a doubt, an odd painting. 

　　The golden wheat field covered the bottom half of the canvas, swaying with the wind without stopping. The sun was clearly hanging in the middle, yet there were dozens of shining stars in the sky and a dark purple whirlpool that only appeared at night, as if it were gathering darkness.

　　In the middle of the wheat field, a man in a brown suit was collapsing. He had high cheekbones, a thick beard, and a gun in his hands. The bullet hole in his chest was bleeding. 

　　He had clearly used bright colours, but because he had used an odd art style, he had made the piece feel out of place and hair raising. 

　　Despair, suffering, insanity, and death. 

　　It was only a few seconds, but the black-haired youth’s back was wet with cold sweat. He didn’t know when he’d started shivering. 

　　But his eyes were still stuck on the painting as if being sucked into it. He was in a trance and couldn’t get out no matter what, not even noticing the door opening from behind him. 

Author has something to say:

Retaking Aesthetics Appreciation Class and practical courses were all made up by me (cuz this class does not have a practical course), usually, unless your performance was absolutely terrible, the teacher would let you pass no problemo, 77 just needs the plot so don’t learn from him!! Graduation getting delayed is very bad!!

t/n: omg our beloved male lead has come ihesougbraoubgaeon;ae

Hes seems very pretty ////

Anyways the title of this chapter is Yu Chenxue but i didnt wanna spoil yall on ch10.1 so i changed it to the meaning of his name, dust and snow(i lied it was ggl translate and it sounded nice so i used it) 

[1] Postmodernism is an intellectual stance or mode of discourse defined by an attitude of skepticism toward what it describes as the grand narratives and ideologies of modernism https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Postmodernism 

basically…you’re skeptics about everything[2] In literary criticism, stream of consciousness is a narrative mode or method that attempts “to depict the multitudinous thoughts and feelings which pass through the mind” of a narrator. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stream_of_consciousness