Chapter 190: Face-slapping? Doesn't Exist

Chapter 190: A Slap in the Face? Not a Chance

The speed at which Meng Fan’s artistic skills transitioned into sand art was even faster than he had imagined. After practicing from last night until three in the morning, he felt he had reached a level of 12+ or 13+. With the additional practice from this morning until three in the afternoon, hitting 15+ was essentially a certainty.

Beyond Meng Fan’s frantic, obsessive practice, the primary reason for this was that because it was a conversion of existing skill, there was no such thing as a bottleneck. It was a natural progression; as long as the volume of practice kept pace, each attempt was better than the last, without the slightest obstruction.

A 15+ level of artistry was exactly why Wen Wan felt, after seeing his work, that he was nearly catching up to her.

In truth, in terms of pure technique, Meng Fan had likely surpassed Wen Wan, but his experience still lagged far behind.

Furthermore, while creativity and storytelling could be bolstered by imagination and screenwriting, the concept of artistic mood was not a stat that could be easily padded. In terms of life experience and perception of the world, Meng Fan was certainly far inferior to Wen Wan.

And that was the greatest gap between them.

Once Meng Fan had finalized the performance equipment, he became somewhat shameless. With a fawning expression, he said to Wen Wan, "Teacher Wen, I am your student after all. Since I’m heading to a stage as big as the Double Eleven gala, I can’t afford to lose face for you. My flight to Shenzhen is tomorrow morning, and I still have some time today. Could I please cling to the leg of a golden Buddha like you for some guidance?"

Wen Wan rolled her eyes at him. "Qin Jiao was right; you are the classic example of 'familiarity breeds contempt.'" She waved a hand. "Go on down first; I’ll be there as soon as I finish what I’m working on."

"Understood."

Playing the part of the shameless sycophant, Meng Fan bowed theatrically and began to back away, only to bump into the door. He gave his hips a little wiggle and continued retreating.

When you need to embrace the Buddha’s leg at the last minute, you have to show the right attitude. At the very least, you have to keep the golden Buddha amused; otherwise, why would she let you leech off her experience?

Experience!

Stage experience was crucial.

Meng Fan had no experience with sand art performances, and it was impossible to find a way to improve that on such short notice. The best method was to siphon it from Wen Wan.

Theoretical experience was still experience, after all!

Not long after Meng Fan went downstairs, Wen Wan arrived. Carrying her laptop and having shot him a few more glares, she began to earnestly share her stage experience with him.

Initially, Wen Wan had only been impressed by Meng Fan, finding him interesting and novel. Then, she was stunned by his talent, and subsequently, she was genuinely moved by his hard work. But when she finally learned that Meng Fan had learned sand art from scratch specifically for the Double Eleven gala... she truly didn't know what to say.

How could a person be so aware of their own talent? Was this mere confidence? No, this was arrogance; this was shamelessness!

Well, regardless of how she felt or what she said, deep down, she was quite happy to see Meng Fan take another step forward.

She was very curious—just how far could this guy go? No, rather, she was curious to see how far he could get in the few days leading up to the Double Eleven gala.

Wen Wan was certain that in the days remaining before the event, Meng Fan would make another significant leap.

Surpassing her was not entirely impossible!

Of course, setting everything else aside, as a sand art educator—one who had retired to the second line after reaching the pinnacle of honor—the thing she wanted most to see was for the student to surpass the master!

"I’ve thought about it, and a standard approach might not suit you. Let’s analyze it through case studies. I’ve prepared twenty videos of my past performances and ten from other sand artists. These include brilliant performances, ingenious ideas, as well as stage mishaps and the clever ways they were handled on the spot..."

Wen Wan played the videos, pausing every so often. She didn't just talk about the pros, cons, and precautions; she branched out into her own insights and experiences. Many points were explained in minute detail, while others were touched upon briefly, all tailored specifically to Meng Fan’s situation.

Meng Fan listened intently, while simultaneously activating his invisible livestream assistant to record the entire process, allowing him to review it at any time.

From just before four in the afternoon until past ten at night, they finally finished analyzing the thirty cases.

"This time, I really have nothing left to teach you!"

After finishing, Wen Wan let out a long sigh. Seeing Meng Fan’s state, she waved her hand weakly. "Fine, looking at you, it’s impossible to expect you to treat me to a meal. Carry on! You really are a madman!"

She didn't even take her laptop, simply dragging her exhausted body out of the studio.

Meng Fan truly wanted to keep practicing, feeling quite embarrassed. "Um, Teacher Wen, I’ll treat you to a meal when I get back."

Wen Wan raised a hand halfway to wave him off, lacking the energy to even turn her head.

"What happened to her?"

There were others in the studio who saw Wen Wan emerge. They knew she had been in the studio with Meng Fan, but they couldn't help their curiosity.

Ding Quankai had gone in to observe earlier but left shortly after. The reason was simple: he could understand the words, but he couldn't digest the content. When you’re listening to Wen Wan, how could you bear to miss a single word? But the sheer volume of information was so great that if you tried to listen carefully, your brain felt like it would explode.

So, Ding Quankai had learned his lesson and left; it was too painful.

Seeing Wen Wan’s state now, he wore an expression of someone who had seen through it all. "I reckon she was drained dry again. Brother Tie is simply a monster!"

Those nearby naturally understood what had been drained, and they clicked their tongues in wonder. Comparing people to others only brings frustration!

That night, the studio, which usually emptied out before ten, still had people practicing at eleven. If you couldn't match the talent, you had to at least keep up with the effort.

"I’m going to Shenzhen, so no running today."

The next morning, Meng Fan rose early, sent a WeChat message to Wu Tong, and then called Xing Tage, whom he had already arranged to meet, to wake him up.

Xing Tage yawned and complained several times before finally getting out of bed. He drove into the residential complex, and together with Meng Fan, they moved the sand art table and other equipment downstairs.

Meng Fan forced two cups of coffee onto Xing Tage before they drove to the airport.

After checking in and dropping off his luggage, Meng Fan boarded the 7:30 flight to Shenzhen.

An airplane!

This was the first time Meng Fan had flown since his rebirth. He was terrified, knowing that the hijacking incident from his previous life couldn't possibly happen here, but the trauma remained.

Overcome it!

It’s not like you can go your whole life without flying!

In less than two and a half hours, the plane landed smoothly, and only then did Meng Fan take off his hat.

To say he wasn't afraid would be a lie; wearing the hat was for good luck!

Bai Zhi had arranged for someone to pick him up. They went to the hotel first; the rehearsal was scheduled for the afternoon, while the sand art table and other items were sent directly to the stadium after Meng Fan checked in.

The hotel was booked by the organizers of the Double Eleven gala. Staff members were everywhere, including band members, dancers, and even some celebrities—most of whom Meng Fan recognized by name.

Bai Zhi and Su Qingcen had just woken up and were having breakfast in a restaurant when Meng Fan was brought over by a staff member.

Was Bai Zhi’s face dark?

Only when Meng Fan got closer did he see who was standing in front of her.

Zhu Yu, the singer who had manufactured a scandal about him and Bai Zhi. What event was it? He had tried to harass Bai Zhi on the red carpet, cursed at her when he failed, and was then kicked into the venue by Meng Fan.

It looked like he was harassing her again.

Could it be this melodramatic?

To run into this kind of plot!

Meng Fan wondered if he should follow the tropes of many web novels and pull a "slap in the face" move.

*Splash!*

Before Meng Fan could even decide, Bai Zhi, with a dark expression, suddenly picked up her cup and splashed the juice right into Zhu Yu’s face. It was done with great force, the sound was quite loud, and juice splattered everywhere.