Brother Dao Took the Entertainment Industry by Storm, Fans Beg Me Not to Kill Anymore

Chapter 680: The Traditionalists' Subtle Malice

"This is Li Jian, my senior brother. He currently teaches performance at Beijing Drama Academy."Yang Heng introduced him to Xiao He with a completely blank expression.

"And this is Xiao He, an actor. I invited him to visit the Grand Theater."

He then introduced Xiao He to Li Jian.

"Oh, so you're a celebrity." Li Jian glanced back at his students, who were as quiet as quails, and said coldly, "No wonder my students got so excited. They completely forgot their place and manners."

Xiao He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Young people have energy—that's a good thing. I'm honored that my work has earned their affection."

"However, the theater should remain quiet. We need to maintain good internal order, so others don't see this and let it affect their impression of the venue."

Li Jian turned around and lectured his students as he spoke. "Write a self-criticism when you get back! I warned you before we came—you need to show reverence here, maintain proper order, and not disrupt the normal operations."

"Look at the scene you caused—how disgraceful!"

"Ahh—"

"No way—"

The students immediately started groaning and sighing, but under their teacher's authority, they could only whisper their complaints.

Xiao He tilted his head and looked at the students, who looked like frostbitten eggplants. He shot Li Jian a half-smile but didn't say anything to defend them.

He could clearly sense the malice in Li Jian. The punishment for the students was just a way to spread that subtle venom to others. Others might not notice it, but Xiao He felt it acutely.

Now was definitely not the time to speak up for the students. Since Li Jian was the teacher and they were the students, even if Xiao He said something now, it wouldn't stop Li Jian from punishing them later. Not interfering was actually the best option—it would only make those poor students suffer even more.

Yang Heng also heard the punishment Li Jian had set for his students. He frowned slightly but said nothing, instead turning to Xiao He. "Xiao He, should we head up first?"

Clearly, Yang Heng didn't have much patience for Li Jian either.

"Sure."

Xiao He had no intention of engaging in a lengthy conversation with someone who clearly disliked him. He nodded and followed Yang Heng further inside.

Watching them leave, Li Jian coldly averted his gaze.

---

"That Li Jian... doesn't seem easy to get along with."

Walking down the hallway, Xiao He asked with a puzzled expression.

"Oh, he's probably jealous of you."

Yang Heng casually tore open the disguise over others' inner thoughts.

Xiao He glanced sideways, surprised by Yang Heng's bluntness.

But Yang Heng's tone was calm, as if he were already used to that subtle malice. He explained offhandedly, "Everyone who can come to this theater was once a genius from somewhere. They studied hard, joined prestigious academies, took the pure traditionalist route into the acting industry, believing themselves to be superior, of 'pure' background. Naturally, they look down on celebrity actors like you who 'cut corners' to make it."

In other words, it was the conflict between traditionalists and non-traditionalists.

In any industry, people from traditionalist backgrounds always think they're above others. Especially in the early days of the entertainment world, when industry barriers were extremely high. The top players were almost all connected through traditionalist or regional networks. The famous ones were almost all professionally trained with solid skills.

But times have changed.

Now anyone can become a big star. Countless artists without formal training have chased their dreams, and some have become famous overnight. Professional training is no longer a barrier to entry. The rules they set have been broken by more and more outside capital. The industry's norms have been reshuffled. Past glory is gone. The living space for legitimate traditionalist actors has been squeezed to nothing, leaving them without any advantage.

Only the National Theater—the highest artistic hall in the country—remains a dream destination that many flock to. Its existence is profoundly meaningful. Whether traditionalist or not, everyone fights tooth and nail to get in, seeking a sliver of glory that makes them seem more professional and legitimate in the industry.

Unfortunately, this place is where geniuses gather—and also where they fall. After all, a genius might be one in a million somewhere else, but in the theater, geniuses are a dime a dozen. Even if someone gives it their all, they barely make it to the threshold of this world.

As for the road ahead, it's beyond their reach.

As for Li Jian, compared to others, the one step he fell short on might have been his appearance.

—Don't say appearance doesn't matter in places like this.

The reality is: beauty is a passport for many, and a ladder for some to climb smoothly.

Li Jian's skill couldn't break through that bottleneck, and he didn't have the advantage of looks to stand out from the crowd. So in the end, he could only walk away in regret.

And there are many failures like Li Jian who end up teaching at academies instead.

There are also many pathetic souls like him who resent everyone and envy everyone indiscriminately.

Yang Heng, having risen above this crowd of geniuses to become the chief of the younger generation—an absolute talent—had long been immune to the malice of such people.

Xiao He clicked his tongue. "I didn't realize the rift between the two sides ran this deep."

He had previously thought Director Chou's reluctance to let him play Emperor Chen in "Imperial Enterprise" was just because he was a traffic-heavy actor. Now, looking deeper, it might also have to do with his lack of formal training.

After all, Director Chou's era was stuck over a decade ago.

Back then, actors or even directors without connections, education, or prestigious school credentials who managed to make something of themselves would be introduced by the media with the shocking prefix "grassroots."

"Grassroots director's work..." "Grassroots actor becomes famous overnight..."

At the time, he didn't realize the implication. But looking back now, those two words sounded simple enough, yet they concealed the industry's contempt, distance, and even a touch of dismissive arrogance toward those without orthodox backgrounds.

How formidable must those "grassroots" who made it back then have been, to carve a bloody path through so much prejudice and rejection?

Even Xiao He, standing here now without formal training, enjoying the affection of these young students, was only able to do so because "times have changed."

Otherwise, facing someone like Li Jian, he would have encountered far more obvious and resentful malice.

"If you ask me, it's less about grudges and prejudice, and more that they're still living in dreams of the past," Yang Heng said expressionlessly. "When achievements and fame can no longer give them an edge, the only thing they can do is cling to the last shred of their 'legitimate bloodline' for dignity."

Yang Heng didn't hate Li Jian. After all, he himself was technically part of the "traditionalist camp." He just thought people like Li Jian were rather pitiful and pathetic.