“I really, really like priests. My friends and I all like them.” Lin Wansheng gripped the microphone, leaning forward slightly as he began tonight’s set in an utterly sincere tone.
“It’s just a shame that the Catholic priest in our community stopped liking us after we threw our thirteenth birthday party.”
He paused, leaving just the right half-second of silence, then spread his hands with a helpless expression on his face.
“Hahahahaha!”
The audience erupted into laughter. A girl from NYU in the front row laughed so hard she shook, slapping the table with all her might.
And in the back row, Maggie also had the faint trace of a smile on her face.
She watched the young man moving so freely onstage, but her eyes held only calm scrutiny.
Subconsciously, she stopped twirling the pen between her fingers and sat up a little straighter.
This kid’s sense of rhythm was too good. Those perfectly timed pauses, and the tone that was clearly being adjusted on the fly according to the room’s atmosphere—none of it seemed like something a newcomer who had only performed once before should be capable of.
“Very promising. What a shame…”
Just then, several of her colleagues beside her closed their notebooks almost in unison.
They stood up, turned, and left without expression.
Maggie knew exactly why they were leaving.
The video that had gone viral on TikTok had been secretly recorded, and the image quality was blurry.
On top of that, all it really showed was Lin Wansheng pacing around.
So for these agents, today was essentially their first time seeing Lin Wansheng’s true appearance.
They all understood perfectly well.
For a Chinese-American stand-up comedian, the right look was a huge bonus.
The so-called right look was what the market wanted: safe.
An image more in line with the stereotype of a “nerd.”
Preferably small and skinny, with slightly long hair and a pair of black-framed glasses.
If he came with a little bit of a hunchback, all the better.
That kind of image could satisfy mainstream audiences’ imagination of East Asian boys.
And through that “harmlessness” in appearance,
it could set off the sharpness of their words onstage, creating a powerful comedic contrast.
The people who had come today were all agents from top agencies.
What they were looking for was not merely an interesting soul, but a mature product that could be quickly replicated, packaged, and pushed into the market.
Lin Wansheng clearly did not meet their standards.
But the fact that she stayed did not mean she had made up her mind to sign him.
It was just that, as a professional agent, she always felt there was something indescribable about this kid that made her want to keep watching a little longer.
Naturally, Lin Wansheng onstage had also noticed those agents leaving one after another.
He did not even so much as lift an eyelid, as if whether those people stayed or went had nothing to do with him.
Of course he knew what it meant, but he did not care.
Something like this was fine if it happened, and fine if it didn’t.
After all, he had never intended to make stand-up comedy his lifelong career.
Whether it was the Lin family’s expectations or his own plans, all of it pointed clearly toward another path.
In a society like America, for the second generation of immigrants,
becoming a lawyer or a doctor was the safest, most respectable choice.
It was a broad, visible road leading straight into the middle class.
And Lin Wansheng’s goal was to get into a good university—preferably with a scholarship—choose political science or economics as a pre-law major, and then apply to a top law school.
The biggest problem with that path, however, was—
money.
And for Asians to get into good universities in America could be described as hell mode.
Their SAT scores had to be at least 450 points higher than Black students’, and 300 points higher than other people of color. Even white students had an easier time getting into good universities than Asians.
In his view, the income from stand-up comedy was not even as solid as the big promise Hank had painted for him.
At the very least, football experience could make him stand out at a glance from the piles of Asian applicants.
When an admissions officer saw a Chinese kid with top grades who was actually a football player charging across the field,
that powerful contrast alone would be the most compelling recommendation letter.
Pulling his thoughts back, Lin Wansheng looked at the still-enthusiastic audience below, and the curve of his lips deepened.
……
……
After the performance ended, Lin Wansheng walked offstage amid thunderous applause and whistles.
The moment he entered the dressing room, he froze.
A blonde woman had her back to him, seated elegantly at his makeup table. Her legs were crossed, and the silhouette beneath her silk blouse outlined a breathtakingly alluring curve. The air was filled with the faint scent of expensive perfume.
The woman saw Lin Wansheng enter through the mirror, slowly turned around, and lightly applauded him.
“You’re very good,” Maggie said, her voice carrying a lazy hint of huskiness.
“More interesting than you looked in the video. Can we talk?”
Lin Wansheng was somewhat surprised. He had not expected the agent who looked like the biggest shot to have stayed.
Maggie stood, circled him once, her gaze sweeping over his physique like the most fastidious buyer, and finally shook her head.
“Would you mind wearing a pair of black-framed glasses when you perform onstage?”
She got straight to the point. “And, if possible, gaining a little weight. You need to hide your muscle definition.”
“For an East Asian stand-up comedian,” she said in a professional tone that allowed no doubt,
“your muscles are out of place on a stand-up stage.”
“Muscular men are Black performers’ comfort zone. That kind of big, burly body saying wise and witty things—
that contrast belongs to them.”
“As for you,” she paused, “you need a different kind of contrast.”
If Lin Wansheng agreed to change his image, she could make the decision on the spot and sign him on behalf of CAA.
From today onward, the company would give him comprehensive promotion and packaging.
“Starting with the pay here,” Maggie dropped a bombshell.
“I already spoke with your boss just now.
If it’s a performer under CAA, the fee for a single show here
starts at a minimum of two thousand dollars.”
As for whether Brother Yu would agree to this proposal,
as well as CAA’s standard but hefty agency commission,
she skillfully concealed those matters behind this tempting prospect.
After Lin Wansheng listened, however, he smiled.
“That’s impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m a player on the East River High football team.”
The instant she heard the words “football team,” Maggie’s eyes lit up.
“East River High?” she repeated, and the expression on her face changed subtly.
Though East River had not made the playoffs last year, over the past decade, this team was a powerhouse that had won two state championship rings.
The professional coldness on Maggie’s face melted at once, replaced by a seductive smile.
She took a business card from her handbag and handed it to Lin Wansheng.
“In that case, I’ll have to reassess your value.”
“When you’re playing in a game, call me.”
“When the time comes, I’ll see you on the field.”