The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 211: The Unknown

*The Puppet*.

This is a classic small theater stage play, renowned for its extreme sense of oppression and profound dissection of human manipulation.

Jiang Ci, what did he mean by giving him this?

To humiliate him?

To say he was like a manipulated puppet?

Luo Yu's chest heaved violently, a surge of fury rushing straight to the top of his head.

He was about to explode, to throw this inexplicable script in Jiang Ci's face.

But Jiang Ci spoke first.

"The industry says Teacher Luo is an 'acting fanatic,' fully invested and immersed in roles. I... wanted to learn from you."

*Learn from you*.

These two words pierced the proudest part of Luo Yu's heart.

He believed himself far inferior to a monster like Jiang Ci, who could act until physically drained, in terms of being an "acting fanatic."

But these words, "learn from you," gently propped up his actor's self-esteem, which had just plummeted to rock bottom.

Jiang Ci saw him as a senior worth learning from.

Not as a problematic actor publicly reprimanded by the director.

Wen Nian, standing to the side, felt her smile freeze.

She immediately stepped forward, speaking softly.

"A-Yu, you're too tired today. You should rest first."

She turned to Jiang Ci, her smile flawless.

"Teacher Jiang, I'm so sorry. A-Yu isn't in good form today. How about we postpone the scene rehearsal until tomorrow?"

She wanted to interrupt this bizarre exchange.

Her intuition told her Jiang Ci's appearance brought a variable she couldn't control.

But the moment she spoke, Luo Yu raised a hand.

A gesture to stop her.

He looked at Jiang Ci, suppressing all the turbulent emotions in his heart, forcing out two words.

"Alright."

The smile on Wen Nian's face froze completely.

Luo Yu had actually... refused her?

In Jiang Ci's system vision, the **[Mental Manipulation in Progress]** tag on Wen Nian flickered at a suddenly accelerated frequency.

A brief **[Warning: Target Showing Signs of Breaking Free]** prompt flashed beside it.

He remained calm inside, perfectly playing the part of an "acting obsessive" oblivious to interpersonal dynamics and the strange atmosphere.

He directly flipped open the printed script.

His finger pointed to a particular scene.

"Let's do this part."

The roles in the script were simple.

A genius painter completely manipulated by his agent, ultimately drained of inspiration and with his career ruined.

A calculating, step-by-step devil of an agent who, in the name of love, turns the painter into his most prized masterpiece.

Jiang Ci pointed at the agent's lines.

"I'll play this one."

Luo Yu's gaze fell on the painter's lines.

They were short, mostly passive responses and feeble struggles.

Wasn't this a portrait of his current state?

Luo Yu thought self-mockingly.

He took the stack of papers, preparing to begin this absurd "scene rehearsal."

Jiang Ci didn't give him much preparation time.

Leaning against a nearby prop box, his whole body relaxed. But the moment he spoke, he was no longer Jiang Ci.

He was that honey-tongued, dagger-hearted agent.

"Listen to me. That art exhibition isn't suitable for you. It will drain your creative spirit."

Jiang Ci's voice wasn't loud, carrying a kind of gentle, persuasive tone.

"What I've chosen for you is the stage that will truly let you shine."

Something seemed to explode in Luo Yu's mind.

These two sentences...

How familiar they were.

Wen Nian was always whispering in his ear: "A-Yu, that script is too grueling, it will consume you. I'll decline it for you."

"Listen to me. I've already contacted another commercial film for you. That one will let more people see you."

Exactly the same.

Luo Yu's breathing hitched for a moment.

He forced himself to look at the script and read the painter's first line.

"But... I really like the theme of that exhibition."

His voice was somewhat dry.

Jiang Ci responded quickly, his gentle tone hiding absolute dominance.

"Liking something doesn't put food on the table. You're an artist, but you also need to live."

"Those people don't understand your worth. They'll only judge you, hurt you, with worldly eyes."

"Only I, only I truly understand you."

"You just focus on painting peacefully. I'll handle all the dirty work."

Luo Yu's hand holding the script began to tremble.

These words were too familiar.

So familiar he started to lose track of whether he was acting or recounting his own life over the past two years.

Beside him, the color was slowly draining from Wen Nian's face.

Of course she heard the unsettling insinuations behind these lines.

But she couldn't lose her temper.

She could only stand there, maintaining the perfect image of the gentle, considerate girlfriend.

She even had to smile and join this "performance."

"Teacher Jiang's line delivery is excellent. A-Yu, see, you're completely immersed in the scene."

Wen Nian's voice chimed in at just the right moment, trying to pull that sense of loss of control back into the safe realm of "acting."

Jiang Ci's performance continued.

He straightened up and walked step by step toward Luo Yu.

His face no longer showed gentle persuasion, but a cruel appreciation of his own masterpiece.

"You think you are free."

He said in a low voice.

"But you have long been my most perfect creation."

Luo Yu's head snapped up, staring at Jiang Ci.

Jiang Ci didn't avoid his gaze, delivering the most heart-piercing line.

"Your joys and sorrows, your career prospects, even your every breath, are all within my calculations."

He paused. The final tone was light as a feather, yet carried the weight of a thousand jun, crashing onto Luo Yu's heart.

"The tragedy is, you still think that's love."

The last three words cleaved straight through the chaos in Luo Yu's mind.

All his defenses, his self-delusion, were shattered in that instant.

He turned his head to look at Wen Nian beside him.

In that moment.

He saw it clearly.

He saw the panic, too fleeting to hide, flash across Wen Nian's face, which always wore a perfect smile.

Though it lasted only a moment before she immediately resumed her concerned, innocent expression.

"A-Yu, what's wrong? Are you too tired?"

But Luo Yu had seen it.

Right then, Jiang Ci closed the script in his hand with a soft *snap*.

The sound made Luo Yu's whole body stiffen.

Jiang Ci reverted to his usual somewhat lazy demeanor. He scratched his head, like a junior genuinely struggling with his craft.

"Ah, this scene is too oppressive. I still can't nail that feeling of total control."

He shoved the script back to Sun Zhou, nodded to Luo Yu who was still frozen in place.

"Thanks, Teacher Luo. Learned a lot."

With that, as if he had just completed an ordinary professional exchange, he turned and left without the slightest hesitation.

Sun Zhou, holding the folder, quickly followed.

The entire corner was left with only Luo Yu and Wen Nian.

Luo Yu stood rigidly in place, unmoving.

In his mind, the lines from earlier echoed madly.

"You have long been my most perfect creation."

"You still think that's love."

That sentence intertwined with the strange look that had flashed across Wen Nian's face, slicing open the reality he had deeply believed in.

For the first time, he felt a tremor of doubt about the all-encompassing "love" and "support" surrounding him.

That night, hotel room.

For the first time ever, Luo Yu did not have dinner with Wen Nian.

He locked himself alone in the room. No matter how gently Wen Nian knocked on the door or how concernedly she inquired outside, he did not respond.

He sat in the darkness, phone in hand.

He pulled up a contact he hadn't reached out to in a long time.

It was his former assistant, the one Wen Nian had "persuaded to leave" for various reasons.

Fortunately, they still kept in touch privately.

The call connected.

Luo Yu skipped the pleasantries, speaking directly.

"Help me check something."

"Over these two years with Wen Nian, exactly how many scripts did she decline on my behalf?"

After hanging up, Luo Yu stared blankly at the ceiling.

He didn't know how much time passed.

His phone screen lit up.

It was a text message.

With trembling hands, Luo Yu opened the message.

There were no extra words inside, just a compressed file.

He downloaded and extracted it.

A long list appeared on the screen.

Densely packed, all script names, with the dates they were rejected noted beside them.

His eyes frantically scanned the list.

Suddenly, his finger stopped.

His gaze sharpened.

A script name on the list stabbed painfully into his eyes.

—*The Unknown*.

That arthouse film he had once tossed and turned over, dreaming of acting in!

How could he forget this film!

He remembered staying up three nights in a row reading the script, excitedly telling Wen Nian he was willing to lower his fee, even act for free, to play that role!

He still remembered how Wen Nian had hugged him then,

her voice gentle: "A-Yu, I know you love it, but these arthouse films might not even get released after filming. It's too draining for you. Be good, we won't do this one. I've already found a better commercial film for you, that one will let more people see you..."

Back then, wrapped in that "for his own good" affection, though regretful, he had been moved and accepted.

But now, those gentle words overlapped with Jiang Ci's line, "The tragedy is, you still think that's love," in his mind, finally merging into a single mocking phrase.

"Heh..."

In the darkness, Luo Yu let out an extremely soft laugh.