The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 230: Fireworks Fade Away

The atmosphere inside the car was strangled by an invisible hand.

The relaxed, warm domesticity that had finally taken root in the Mushroom House was evaporating.

Jiang Ci could feel it: the woman beside him who had just been earnestly asking whether to add a little perilla, had altered completely.

She no longer leaned back against the seat. She sat up straight, hands flat on her knees.

The car door opened slowly.

Tension tightened in the air, everyone on standby.

This was the scent unique to a film set.

Su Qingying was the first to step out. The moment her foot hit the hard concrete, every ounce of softness and curiosity that belonged to "Su Qingying" retreated cleanly and completely.

She raised her head and looked toward the massive crane being adjusted not far away, and in an instant she reverted to that "Ice Queen Best Actress."

Jiang Ci followed her out of the car, shedding the rare casualness he had shown on the variety show.

He looked to the distance where part of an urban set had been specially constructed by the film crew for the "modern scene."

Familiar, yet strange.

A sense of crisis wrapped around him again.

Actor "Jiang Ci" had returned to duty.

"Everyone back?"

A flat question, devoid of emotion, came from behind the monitor.

Zhang Mouyi didn't even turn his head.

He wore his eternally identical director's vest, rolling two glossy walnuts in his hand, too lazy to bother with an extra greeting. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

He skipped all pointless small talk and pointed to the area beside the monitor.

"Come here."

Jiang Ci, Su Qingying, and Luo Yu walked over in silence.

Behind the director's chair, a huge whiteboard had been posted.

It was filled with densely packed shooting schedules written in red and black markers.

It looked less like a call sheet and more like a battle manifesto, making the skin crawl.

Zhang Mouyi used those two walnuts to point at that "wall."

"The variety publicity is over."

His voice was low; the crew members straining to listen all straightened instinctively.

"From today on, the crew officially enters the final, and most brutal, 'assault stage.'"

He turned and finally looked directly at the three leads who had just returned from their "paradise."

His finger landed heavily on the top line of the whiteboard.

[Longing Across Time]

That was the core climactic portion of the entire film.

"We'll reorder the shooting schedule from scratch."

Zhang Mouyi's finger traced across the dense grid before stopping at Su Qingying's name.

"Concentrate every resource, finish all of A Li's solo scenes set in the modern era within three days."

At those words, even Jiang Ci felt a twinge of surprise.

This was essentially extracting the ending portion of the film to shoot it separately, ahead of schedule.

Zhang Mouyi's gaze settled on Su Qingying.

"From now on, you are A Li."

"I want you to store, ferment, and accumulate on camera all the longing, regret, and loneliness she feels after returning to the modern world, having lost Ye Chen—until it detonates."

His demand was blunt and ruthless.

Su Qingying said nothing, she just listened quietly.

Zhang Mouyi continued issuing orders.

"To create an absolutely immersive environment for you—"

He scanned the set and his voice rose sharply.

"During the shooting of A Li's solo scenes, aside from necessary lighting, camera, and sound crew, no one may enter the modern-set area."

His eyes intentionally paused on Jiang Ci and Luo Yu for a second.

"That includes both of you."

Those words chilled the atmosphere to an instant freeze.

They intended to isolate Su Qingying completely.

To squeeze out every last drop of her emotion by the most extreme means.

Jiang Ci had no objection.

He understood Zhang Mouyi's approach too well.

This set tyrant was not merely directing a film; he was, in his own way, tempering the deepest emotions of an actor's soul.

This kind of tempering was cruel, but for the upcoming cross-time confrontation between the two characters, it was the best groundwork.

Only when Su Qingying's longing and pain were concentrated to the utmost would the suffering and despair of the half-demon Ye Chen she faced feel weightier.

Only then would the audience's hearts be easier to break.

"Understood."

Su Qingying exhaled the two words as a response.

She nodded silently, without any hesitation or complaint.

Then she turned and took off the soft, comfortable jacket she'd worn on the variety show, handing it to her assistant.

She walked alone toward the makeup room reserved solely for "A Li."

Everyone on set watched her back.

Half an hour later, the makeup room door opened.

Su Qingying stepped out.

She had changed into A Li's modern outfit: a simple white shirt and jeans.

Her makeup was light, almost unnoticeable.

Yet everyone felt that the person who walked out was no longer Su Qingying.

She carried an alienation that clashed with the noisy set.

A spirit from ancient times lost in a modern city, bewildered and helpless.

Luo Yu, standing at a distance, calmly pushed up his glasses.

He looked at the transformed Su Qingying, then at Jiang Ci's placid expression.

He realized the days in the Mushroom House had merely been a long prelude.

The real "battlefield" was only now formally opening.

The modern-set area had been cleared.

Beyond the large floor-to-ceiling window, the crew had simulated a bustling urban nightscape on LED screens: neon flashing, traffic unending.

Zhang Mouyi sat behind the monitors, headphones on, completely cut off from the outside world.

In his world there was only the figure within the frame.

Su Qingying stood alone at the imitation apartment window.

She simply stood there.

Staring emptily at the prosperity outside that did not belong to her.

The stream of traffic seemed a silent taunt.

Her body was here, but her soul had been left in another era a thousand years away.

Zhang Mouyi picked up the walkie-talkie.

"Departments, take your places."

"Ready."

Absolute silence fell over the set, broken only by the faint hum of equipment.

Zhang Mouyi's gaze locked on the lonely silhouette on the monitor.

He raised his hand, then brought it down with force.

"Action!"

The camera slowly pushed in on the woman standing by the window.

Her fingertips unconsciously traced light scratches across the glass.

Searching for a figure that could never return.