The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 239: Can You Score Two Tickets to Three Lives’ Tribulation’s Premiere?
The door was pushed open.
Jiang Ci stood at the doorway, dragging his suitcase behind him.
The curtains in the dorm room were drawn, making the light dim. Only the faint standby glow from a computer screen flickered in the gloom.
On the bed to the left, a figure lay sprawled out, snoring loud enough to shake the mountains and the earth.
It was Zhao Zhen.
On the bed to the right, another, slightly slimmer figure was much quieter, only occasionally emitting the sound of teeth grinding.
That was Chen Mo.
Everything was pretty much the same as when he had left half a year ago.
Jiang Ci gently set down his suitcase, not making a single sound.
On his face, which could portray a myriad of sorrows and joys in front of the camera, a mischievous smile characteristic of a twenty-two-year-old boy now appeared.
He silently pulled out his phone, his fingers nimbly navigating the screen.
He found an audio file he had treasured for a long time.
It was a recording he had secretly made on the film set of Longing Across Time, capturing a classic, lion-like roar from Director Zhang Mouyi.
Jiang Ci pushed the volume slider all the way to the top.
Then, he pressed play.
"Cut! Again! What is all this garbage!"
The sound instantly exploded within the cramped space of barely over ten square meters!
Zhao Zhen shot up from the bed like a carp leaping out of water.
His eyes half-open and bleary with sleep, his whole body still in a sleepwalking state,
he had already assumed a standard posture for receiving a scolding,
shouting at the empty air at the top of his lungs, "Director, I was wrong! I'll never steal and eat the prop roast chicken again!"
Chen Mo on the other bed reacted much more calmly.
He sat up almost at the exact same moment the sound played.
His movements were slow, his face showing little extra reaction as he reached for his glasses on the nightstand.
However, that outstretched hand trembled slightly but incessantly in mid-air.
Zhao Zhen finally came fully awake. He saw the figure standing by the door, holding a phone, shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Ci-ge!"
With a roar of grief and indignation, Zhao Zhen lunged from the bed like a starving tiger pouncing on its prey.
"You're finally back!"
Following closely was Chen Mo. He had put on his glasses, and his eyes behind the lenses regained their clarity.
Not shouting and yelling like Zhao Zhen, he calmly pushed his glasses up his nose.
"Judging by the neural conduction speed of the startle response, your prank was nearly perfect. But from the analysis of potential physical harm, you are currently in grave danger."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Jiang Ci found his neck locked in the vice-like grip of Zhao Zhen's arm.
The three of them tussled into a laughing, shoving heap, using the most childish way to dissolve the awkwardness of half a year apart.
When they had horsed around enough, Zhao Zhen snatched Jiang Ci's small suitcase, roughly unzipped it, and started rummaging through it.
"Ci-ge! Where are the Hengdian specialties? Did you bring Jinhua ham? I heard you can eat that stuff raw!"
Jiang Ci, sprawled on the floor catching his breath, weakly pointed towards the bottom of the suitcase.
Zhao Zhen disdainfully pushed aside a few T-shirts and pulled out several exquisitely packaged small boxes.
He picked up a piece of intricately shaped traditional Chinese pastry, scrutinized it for a long time,
finally took a small bite, and immediately his brows furrowed into a knot. "What is this? Tasteless and bland, just a dried-up smell of politeness!"
"Ci-ge, did you buy this stuff by mistake as a gift for the director and brought it back to fool us? It's not even as good as Auntie Wang's savory scallion pancake downstairs with two extra eggs!"
Jiang Ci ignored him, walked to his wardrobe, and pulled open the door.
He took off the seemingly low-key jacket he was wearing and casually tossed it over the back of a chair.
Then, he took out a set of old, faded school uniforms from the wardrobe.
When he pulled on that old T-shirt with the school emblem printed on it, a familiar scent of laundry detergent, carrying a hint of sunshine, enveloped him.
That Jiang Ci who would fight his roommates for instant noodles, who would oversleep, was back.
He let out a long sigh, his whole body slumping into his own chair,
the nerves that had been taut for months finally relaxing completely.
Zhao Zhen was trying to shove that box of "tasteless" pastries into Chen Mo's mouth, yelling "share the hardship,"
while Chen Mo pushed his face away with a look of disgust.
Jiang Ci looked at this familiar scene and was just about to open his mouth to tease them when—"Ding-ling-ling-ling—!"
A harsh and comically tacky DJ ringtone shattered the dorm's tranquility.
It was Jiang Ci's phone, thrown on the bed.
Zhao Zhen and Chen Mo, who had just been lounging in their chairs criticizing the pastries, instantly changed their expressions upon hearing this ringtone.
Jiang Ci's heart also skipped a beat.
The caller ID showed—[Teacher Liu].
It was Liu Guodong's relentless, life-threatening call.
The three of them looked at each other, as if facing a formidable enemy.
"Answer it, quick!" Zhao Zhen urged in a hushed voice.
Jiang Ci swiped to answer.
Before he could utter a single word, Liu Guodong's roar of exasperation came through the receiver.
"Jiang Ci! Where are you? Are you back at school yet?"
"Teacher Liu, I..."
"You what, you! I'm giving you five minutes! If I don't see your figure on the sports field within five minutes, you can wait until next year to collect your graduation certificate with the next class!"
Click. The call was hung up.
The three of them stared at each other stiffly.
The next second.
"Holy shit! Run!"
Zhao Zhen was the first to react, grabbing his jacket from the bed and dashing out the door.
Chen Mo followed close behind, even forgetting to change out of his slippers.
Jiang Ci snatched up his jacket and chased after them.
The three of them sprinted all the way from their fourth-floor dorm.
They dashed along the tree-lined paths of the campus, passing by young faces filled with confusion, their target clear—the sports field.
From afar, they could see a dense, dark mass of people gathered in the center of the field.
The entire graduating class of the acting department was present, all wearing black academic gowns.
At the front of the formation stood a middle-aged man in a white shirt, his face gloomy.
It was Liu Guodong.
When Jiang Ci and the other two, panting heavily, reached the edge of the sports field, the noisy scene instantly fell silent.
All eyes swiveled to focus on them, especially on Jiang Ci.
Curiosity, surprise, admiration, and a touch of envy.
Liu Guodong's face was as dark as an impending storm. He turned and strode directly towards Jiang Ci.
The surrounding classmates instinctively made way, everyone's face clearly saying, "This is going to be good."
Zhao Zhen and Chen Mo nervously swallowed, preparing to step back and give Jiang Ci enough "torture space."
In everyone's eyes, Jiang Ci was a dead man today.
However.
Liu Guodong walked straight up to Jiang Ci and stopped.
No scolding began.
He looked Jiang Ci up and down.
Then, he grabbed Jiang Ci by the arm and pulled him aside to a corner.
Zhao Zhen and Chen Mo were dumbfounded.
What kind of move was this? Separate interrogation?
They saw Liu Guodong, with his back to the crowd, still wearing that exasperated expression, but opening his mouth with a volume as faint as a mosquito's hum.
His words made Jiang Ci freeze on the spot.
"Can you get me two tickets to the Three Lifetimes Tribulation premiere?"
Jiang Ci: "..."
Liu Guodong cleared his throat, the muscles of his serious face twitching slightly.
He glanced furtively at the student formation like a thief, then quickly turned back, his voice dropping even lower, almost to a whisper:
"My daughter is your die-hard fan."
