The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 205: Illusion Like Flowers in a Mirror

"Cut!"

Zhang Mouyi's voice drew a conclusion to Su Qingying's heart-stopping solo performance.

Yet, the air on the film set didn't relax in the slightest.

"Technical pause!"

Zhang Mouyi's command rang out from the loudspeaker again, brooking no argument.

"Change camera angle! Shoot A Li's subjective reaction!"

"Makeup! Costume! Five minutes! I want to see the same A Li who just cried herself to collapse!"

The entire crew, like a precise machine, began operating at high speed once more.

Su Qingying didn't even have time to pull herself out of Ling Xi's resentment before she was supported by assistants on either side and rushed back to the makeup room at a fast pace.

This was a race against time, and a double exploitation of an actor's spirit and physical strength.

Jiang Ci was still "nailed" to the Divine Tree by the prop arrow.

In the previous scene, he only needed to close his eyes and be a perfect background element, but now his neck was stiff and aching.

He instinctively wanted to move.

"Brother! Don't move!"

The prop guy next to him immediately rushed over, pressing down on his shoulder with a tense expression.

"The arrow! The angle is fixed, it'll go crooked!"

Jiang Ci remained motionless, but his heart was utterly calm.

Fine. Being a perfect "corpse" is also part of an actor's self-cultivation.

The door to the makeup room opened again.

Su Qingying had returned.

In just a few short minutes, the makeup on her face was like that of a different person.

The sharpness and cold beauty belonging to Ling Xi had been completely wiped away, replaced by a pallor and fragility soaked through by tears.

Messy strands of hair stuck to her cheeks, and within her reddened eye sockets, freshly added tears that were about to fall but hadn't yet still hung.

She had transformed back into that helpless, remorseful, yet wildly stubborn A Li.

Her gaze didn't linger on anyone, heading straight for the Divine Tree.

In front of Jiang Ci, she knelt down and sat back again.

This time, the one standing in the shadows, playing the role of the lofty judge, was a stand-in wearing Ling Xi's Priestess Robe.

Su Qingying slowly raised her head.

The moment her line of sight met that black figure, her eyes, brimming with tears, once again overflowed and broke through the dam.

She didn't say a word.

She simply reached out, using all her strength, to desperately cling to Jiang Ci's waist in her embrace.

That posture was like a trapped beast in a torrential rainstorm, desperately trying to protect the last flicker of a flame.

She used every ounce of strength in her body to resist the oppressive weight of destiny from a thousand years ago.

"Action!"

Zhang Mouyi's voice sounded.

On the screen.

That black figure representing "Ling Xi" slowly raised a hand, palm facing upward.

Su Qingying's body trembled violently in response.

She knew Ling Xi was forcing her to leave.

She held Jiang Ci even tighter.

The force was so great that Jiang Ci even felt his ribs trembling slightly.

His eyes were closed, yet he could clearly sense the pure, scorching despair erupting from within Su Qingying's body.

This was the performance she was giving back to him.

Su Qingying took a deep breath, suddenly raised her head, and let out a hoarse roar towards that proud figure.

"I won't go back!"

The voice was raspy, broken, wrapped in a heavy sob.

"I want to stay with him! I want to save him!"

Every word seemed to be squeezed out with blood from the depths of a torn soul.

That reckless, scalding vitality belonging to a mortal girl clashed most violently with Ling Xi's inhuman coldness.

She wasn't just fighting a love rival.

She was fighting the powerlessness against "destiny," fighting against the heart-piercing words, "You are the chief culprit."

Su Qingying's performance precisely captured this.

I know I was wrong, I know I hurt him.

But I will never let go.

This obsessive love that burned everything moved everyone present.

However, "Ling Xi" gave her no chance.

The stand-in actor in the distance, following the director's instructions, made a waving motion.

An invisible, tremendous force seemed to strike Su Qingying hard.

Her body jerked violently backward, falling uncontrollably.

The wirework team activated at this moment.

A huge pulling force came from her waist, forcibly dragging her entire body backward.

"No!"

Su Qingying let out a desperate scream.

Her hands clawed frantically in mid-air, trying to grab onto something.

In the end, she desperately, fiercely, grabbed onto the piece of red sleeve hanging from Jiang Ci's costume.

She used all the strength in her body, her nails almost digging into the fabric.

The force of the wirework continued to increase.

Her entire body was dragged, scraping a messy, disheveled trace on the ground.

But her hand seemed to have grown onto that piece of fabric, using the last bit of strength to desperately cling on, refusing to let go.

"Riiip—!"

A crisp, sharp sound of tearing fabric abruptly rang out in the quiet film set.

The preset cut on Jiang Ci's costume opened with a sound under the immense pull.

A large piece of bright red sleeve was torn off by brute force.

Su Qingying's body fell heavily backward due to inertia.

In her hand, only that thin piece of red fabric, stained with "blood," remained.

Time seemed to slow down at this moment.

Su Qingying fell to the ground, not looking at herself, nor at the distant Ling Xi.

Her entire gaze was concentrated on the piece of fabric in her hand.

That piece of red was like a flame about to be extinguished.

It was also like the last bit of warm blood flowing from Ye Chen's body.

The stubbornness, the determination, all the desperate resistance on her face completely collapsed the moment she saw that piece of torn fabric.

Disintegrated.

Shattered.

An extreme, visceral despair of being ripped apart alive instantly swallowed her whole.

At this moment, she was no longer Su Qingying.

She was A Li.

A pitiful mortal who watched her lover be destroyed by her own hands, and in the end, couldn't even hold onto a corner of his clothing.

Behind the monitor.

Zhang Mouyi stared fixedly at the screen.

This tearing detail was originally his backup plan for pursuing realism.

He never expected that, under Su Qingying's god-tier performance, it would actually be elevated into a tangible representation of "parting in life and death"!

A stroke of genius!

He didn't call cut.

He wanted to wring this despair dry to the very last drop.

The force of the wirework increased again.

Su Qingying's body was forcibly dragged away from Ye Chen.

Three meters.

Five meters.

She was dragged towards the glowing gate of the "Moon-Patterned Bronze Mirror" that would be composited in post-production.

She cried and shouted, reaching out a hand towards the direction of the Divine Tree.

But the distance between her and him was being mercilessly widened.

On the ground, Ye Chen remained motionless, still nailed there.

As if he truly, had already died.