Landon had actually dabbled in boxing, Krav Maga, Muay Thai, and even wrestling, but he still preferred practicing the Eight Trigram Palm every morning, a discipline he had been immersed in for over a decade.
Landon slowly took his stance, knees slightly bent, and began the unique circular walking of the Eight Trigram Palm.
His soles rose and fell flatly, as if walking steadily through muddy water, silent and stealthy... Landon continued to move in smooth, integrated circles according to the core principles of the Eight Trigram Palm.
When he finally finished and stood still, the arc of his movements seemed to linger in the air, while a complete, clear circle worn down by his footsteps was visible on the ground.
Landon slowly finished his form and exhaled a long breath of turbid air.
"Good, I haven't lost the skills I rely on for a living."
On the way back to the apartment, Landon made a detour to a nearby bakery that had already opened.
Freshly baked croissants, a loaf of whole-wheat bread—after a thought, Landon also went to the convenience store next door to buy fresh milk and two cups of hot coffee.
Walking slowly back to the apartment, Landon used his key to gently open the door. He saw Rachel sitting on the bed with her knees hugged to her chest. She was still wearing his oversized white T-shirt, her head buried in her knees, her long brown hair hanging down to hide her face, as if she were sobbing.
Hearing the door open, Rachel jerked her head up. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, and her face was full of grievance.
Then, Rachel jumped up from the bed and threw herself into Landon's arms, saying with a sob, "Landon, I thought you didn't want me anymore?"
When she woke up and found no one beside her, the cold sheets made her heart tighten. All sorts of bad guesses instantly flooded her mind, thinking that last night was just a fleeting fling and that he no longer cherished her once he had her.
Landon's heart softened. With both hands holding paper bags smelling of food and coffee, he couldn't pat her back to comfort her, so he could only say apologetically:
"The morning air was nice, so I went for a run. I saw you were sleeping soundly when I woke up, so I didn't wake you. Look, I even bought breakfast back. Hungry?"
Rachel let go of him. Seeing the breakfast in Landon's hands and his gentle smile, the grievance on Rachel's face vanished instantly.
"I thought..." She lowered her head a bit sheepishly, her voice brightening, "You went to buy breakfast?"
"Yeah," Landon first placed the breakfast on the table, then walked over and held her shoulders. Seeing her tear-streaked face, he helped wipe away her tears and gave her a light peck on the lips.
"I was afraid you wouldn't have any energy for your first day of work. Go wash up, then try it and see if it suits your taste."
"Okay!" Rachel ran happily into the bathroom, her previous anxiety and sadness long forgotten.
Landon looked at her back and smiled.
The two of them finished a simple but warm breakfast together.
Rachel needed to go to the restaurant for her first day of work, and Landon had to go to his acting class.
At the apartment door, Rachel kissed Landon goodbye and walked briskly toward the bus stop.
Landon returned inside, took a cold shower to wash away the sweat and fatigue from his morning workout, and changed into a crisp set of casual clothes.
Then, he put the script for A Beautiful Mind and his notebook into his backpack and headed out to the address where Marina Del Rey was located.
---
Landon arrived at the studio of his acting coach, Marina, according to the address and rang the doorbell.
A woman in her forties wearing a dress, with a capable and efficient aura, opened the door.
"Landon Williams?" The middle-aged woman looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his face. A hint of amazement flashed in her eyes, but her brow soon furrowed slightly.
She had seen too many young people like this, trying to break into Hollywood with their good looks, but often without any acting skills, only capable of playing eye-candy roles.
Marina was already beginning to worry whether this week of training would be effective or if it would ruin her reputation.
However, since she had already accepted the coaching fee, she could only do her best.
"Come in." Marina stepped aside to let Landon in.
Landon walked into the studio. It wasn't large; one wall was a massive mirror, while the other was stacked with various books and scripts.
Marina invited Landon to sit, poured him a glass of water, and spoke directly:
"Tracy told me about your situation. The audition opportunity for A Beautiful Mind is very rare.
She also mentioned that you haven't had systematic acting training before."
"Correct." Landon nodded.
"Alright, let's get started." Marina took out a notebook. "We'll rehearse directly according to the script for A Beautiful Mind.
Marina pointed to the open wooden floor in the center of the studio. "Let's start from Charles Herman's first appearance. I'll play Nash." After speaking, Marina walked to the window.
Landon took a deep breath and walked to the center of the studio.
He closed his eyes, trying to recall the script and the character biography he had made yesterday, while attempting to integrate his memories of watching the movie in his previous life.
The Charles Herman he needed to play was an imaginary character; he was actually a phantom of John Nash.
When Landon opened his eyes again, his gaze was already different.
Then, before starting, he deliberately unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his well-defined upper body.
Afterward, the performance began.
Charles (played by Landon) walked into the Room with his luggage, his steps slightly unsteady, and then let out a cough:
"I'm your prodigal roommate."
"Roommate?" Nash (played by Marina) muttered to himself.
"Oh, heavens!" Charles turned off the music on the gramophone. "Do you know that a so-called hangover is just the body not having enough water to carry out the Krebs cycle?" Then, Charles sat down and began to take off his shoes and clothes.
"It's exactly the same as dying of thirst. In that case, dying of thirst probably feels like a hangover, yet in the end, one still can't escape death."
Charles, shirtless, walked dashingly toward Nash. "John Nash?"
"Hi." Nash shook hands with him.
"My name is Charles Herman, nice to meet you."
The performance ended. Landon panted slightly and looked at Marina, waiting for her evaluation.
Marina didn't speak immediately.
She crossed her arms, her finger lightly tapping her chin, her gaze scrutinizing Landon.
After a long moment, she finally spoke slowly: "Beyond my expectations, Landon." Marina was no longer calling him Mr. Williams.
She stepped forward and walked a circle around Landon.
"Your appearance is perfect, but in this movie, that won't necessarily be a plus for you. What I didn't expect was that your understanding of the character exceeds my expectations.
You didn't play Charles as a simple playboy. You're very relaxed, very direct, and you even take off your clothes with a casualness that carries the bohemian recklessness of a prodigal. This is good; this is exactly the core of Charles."
Landon felt slightly more at ease.
But Marina's tone shifted: "However, the problems are also obvious."
She stopped in front of Landon. "Your rhythm needs adjustment. From entering the door, turning off the music, speaking, taking off your shoes and clothes... the rhythm of this series of actions is too full. Although it's fluid, it lacks the necessary pauses.
Acting isn't just about doing movements and reciting lines; it's about the control of time."