The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 20: I dug a way out of the script graveyard!

Jiang Ci walked out of the Spark Media building practically in a daze.

He had ultimately refused Lin Wan's final question.

Was she joking? Acting as that sunny, naive fool was no different from lying down and waiting for death!

He'd rather go jaywalking on the highway - his survival chances would still be higher than taking that role.

But the consequence of his refusal was that he was truly "unemployed" now.

Lin Wan had made it very clear - the company had no suitable projects for him in the short term.

While she appreciated his talent, besides being a golden screenwriter, she was also a businesswoman. She couldn't possibly invest in an uncertain tragedy project just for one newcomer.

Standing by the bustling street, Jiang Ci looked up at the gloomy sky above, once again experiencing what it meant to have "heaven turn a deaf ear and earth refuse to answer."

On his system panel, the life countdown of over 70 days constantly reminded him of his predicament.

Over the next few days, anxiety became part of his very being.

The first thing he did every morning upon waking was check his life countdown, then frantically search online for casting calls from various production crews.

Whenever he spotted words like "tragedy," "tormented love," or "unresolved regrets," his eyes would light up.

But clicking into them, he'd find either some obscure small workshop that might not even get their production aired,

or roles requiring actors to bring tens or even hundreds of thousands in investment to join the crew.

Jiang Ci patted his pockets, cleaner than his face, and decisively closed the webpage.

He even considered going to Hengdian to work as an extra.

Maybe some crew filming a war movie needed a soldier to get shot dead - he could rush over, perform a death stare with unclosed eyes,

and perhaps make some sentimental female script supervisor heartbroken enough to earn a point or two of Heartbreak Value?

But he immediately killed this thought as soon as it emerged.

High risk, low reward, terrible cost-effectiveness.

Just as he was about to wear a hole in his rental apartment floor from pacing, Lin Wan called.

"Hey, Jiang Ci, what have you been up to these days?"

"Nothing much... Sister Lin Wan, just reading at home, deepening my understanding." Jiang Ci said without blushing or his heart racing.

He couldn't very well say he was dying and preparing to sell his body... oh no, his skills.

"Alright, stop 'deepening' yourself, you'll grow mold at this rate." Lin Wan's tone sounded somewhat helpless.

"There's a script reading session tonight. Many screenwriters and producers from the industry will be there. Come with me, see the world, meet some people."

The moment Jiang Ci heard this, his eyes instantly lit up.

A script reading session!

Wasn't that basically a "farmer's market" for scripts!

Maybe he could dig up one or two "tragic" scripts there?

"Okay, okay! Sister Lin Wan, what time? Where? I promise I'll be there on time!" His voice trembled with excitement.

"Such ambition." Lin Wan chuckled and scolded lightly, then gave him the time and address.

At seven that evening, Jiang Ci took a taxi to the private club Lin Wan had mentioned.

Lin Wan was already waiting for him at the entrance.

She wasn't wearing a suit today, having changed into a black dress with a beige trench coat over it, giving her a more intellectual vibe.

The moment she saw him, Lin Wan patted his arm. "Everyone here today is a core figure in the industry. Don't embarrass me."

"Understood!"

The two entered the club, where quite a few people had already gathered.

They stood in small groups of two or three, holding wine glasses and conversing in low voices.

While everyone wore polite smiles, Jiang Ci could sense invisible competitions happening in the air.

Lin Wan was clearly a regular here, as people kept greeting her the moment she entered.

"Screenwriter Lin, long time no see! Brewing any big projects lately?"

"Sister Wan, I heard your 'Palace Conspiracy' is almost wrapped? You have to let us see the footage once post-production is done!"

Lin Wan handled them with ease, casually introducing Jiang Ci along the way.

"This is our company's newcomer, Jiang Ci."

The producers and screenwriters merely nodded politely at Jiang Ci, their eyes briefly scanning his face before returning to Lin Wan.

Jiang Ci understood perfectly well that in these people's eyes, he was currently a nobody, just Lin Wan's "accessory."

He didn't mind, enjoying the freedom.

Taking advantage of Lin Wan being engrossed in conversation with a bearded producer, he quietly slipped away to a long table nearby.

On the long table lay the main attraction of this reading session - over a dozen scripts of various genres.

Jiang Ci's eyes instantly lit up.

He rubbed his hands together and began flipping through them one by one.

'Kung Fu Boxing' - skip.

'My AI Boyfriend' - skip.

'School Hunk, Stop Chasing Me' - skip.

...

Jiang Ci felt a headache coming on from all the flipping.

Just as he was about to give up, his gaze was drawn to a script in the corner with a pure black cover bearing only two large golden characters.

'Dust.'

Wow, this name sounded utterly depressing just from reading it.

He eagerly opened it.

[Scene One]

[Setting: Abandoned theater, midnight]

[Characters: A frustrated pianist]

[He sits before a dust-covered piano, fingers trembling, yet unable to play a single note. His wife, a famous dancer, lost her legs and her life in a car accident.]

[Pianist: (muttering to himself) Without you, my world... is nothing but noise.]

Holy shit!

This is the one! This is absolutely the one!

Jiang Ci was so excited he nearly shouted out loud.

Frustration, losing his wife, self-destruction... everything tragic you could imagine!

He immediately hugged the script, retreated to an unoccupied sofa in the corner, and began devouring it.

While rubbing his eyes, he noticed a familiar figure entering through the venue entrance,

but he merely glanced briefly before returning to study the script.

Su Qingying had just arrived from the reshoot set of 'Palace Conspiracy,' a trace of fatigue still on her face.

Her agent was saying something to her, but she seemed distracted, her gaze sweeping across the venue.

Then, she spotted the figure curled up in the corner.

It was Jiang Ci.

He wore an ill-fitting suit, looking somewhat awkward.

But his expression at this moment was one of extreme focus.

His entire being was immersed in the script in his hands, completely oblivious to the surrounding noise.

Su Qingying's footsteps halted.

She recognized the script in his hands.

It was 'Dust,' written by a very famous but extremely gloomy playwright from the theater circle.

It was an utter tragedy, so oppressive it made it hard to breathe, with almost zero commercial value and absolutely no chance of being adapted for screen.

In this setting where everyone chased fame and fortune, scrambling to land popular IP roles,

he, a newcomer, was actually intently studying a tragic stage play script destined to be ignored.

Su Qingying's gaze became incredibly complex.

She recalled his reckless, almost obsessive dedication when acting on set.

Jiang Ci, it seemed... was genuinely only interested in "tragedies."

That clean yet broken aura about him formed a strangely harmonious contrast with his current focus.

Su Qingying merely watched from afar, not approaching to disturb him.