This was what people called talent—natural flair.
It sounded somewhat intangible, but one had to admit that some people were born for this line of work, while others, no matter how hard they tried, could only achieve so much.
Professor Lin had previously agreed to teach Tang Shi and Lu Hengzhi acting out of consideration for his old classmate's feelings. But he still intended to assess them by his own standards. If the two boys truly had the talent his old classmate claimed they did, he would naturally be happy to take on two more disciples. After working his entire life, he had suddenly "retired to his hometown," and he was finding it rather lonely.
But if the two boys were only mediocre, then although he would not refuse out of consideration for his old friend, it would be nothing more than a favor. He would teach them the basics, enough for them to be like his talentless granddaughter and enjoy a few years of popularity. He certainly would not bring out the skills he had kept in reserve.
Yet judging Tang Shi and Lu Hengzhi's performance today with Professor Lin's experienced eye, there was only one phrase for it—delighted at the sight of worthy talent.
Compared with Tang Shi, whose features were sharp and whose presence was fierce, Lu Hengzhi appeared more ordinary and steady in every respect. Yet Professor Lin could tell at a glance that Lu Hengzhi was born to act. The moment he sat there, every movement he made was a performance. All his words and actions unconsciously concealed his true personality and thoughts. He might not possess Tang Shi's youthful arrogance and flamboyant freedom, but compared with Tang Shi, whose emotions were readily displayed, Lu Hengzhi had far stronger psychological resilience. He could listen to