The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 262: Protecting Jiang Ci’s Privacy
The Public Relations Director was frantic with anxiety.
He practically begged Lin Wan, "Director Lin, if we make a statement now, we're putting the entire company in the fire!"
"This is opposing half the industry! In just these past ten-plus minutes, several endorsement deals we were negotiating have already called to inquire about the situation!"
Lin Wan ignored the director's pleas. She walked straight over to Jiang Ci.
She picked up a clean glass and poured only a shallow layer of water into it.
Holding the cup, the cool touch of the glass helped her calm down quickly.
Immediately after, she slammed the cup heavily onto the table, producing a crisp sound, and swept her gaze toward the director.
"What is there to fear?"
"As long as Spark Media remains in my hands for even one day, it will not fall. Phrases like 'evil cannot overcome righteousness' may sound cliché, but sometimes, I believe in them."
Lin Wan turned around, looked at Jiang Ci's eyes, bloodshot with anger, and sighed inwardly.
She understood all too well why this kid had suddenly gone crazy.
On the paper were several lines of characters written in pen, the strokes sharp and forceful. She had written them herself on the plane.
From the moment she learned about Jiang Ci's father's deeds, combined with the public opinion, she had a premonition that Jiang Ci would definitely do something.
"... not daring to speak in a loud voice..."
Lin Wan read the words aloud, one by one, a mocking smile on her lips.
"And now, it's come to this. We have to watch our words,"
She forcefully slapped the paper with the poem written on it onto the table.
"This Weibo post, the company will not delete it, and we will not apologize."
"The Public Relations Department now has only one task."
Lin Wan's instructions were clear and resolute. "Use every possible means to suppress and bury Jiang Ci's father's identity. Not a single word of it is to be revealed."
This was the highest level of protection.
She absolutely would not allow the heroic spirit of Jiang Ci's father to be used by these filthy creatures as a weapon for attack or as a shield to garner sympathy.
As soon as Lin Wan finished speaking, the door to the restroom was pushed open from the outside with a loud "bang!"
A gust of cold air rushed in. Standing at the door was none other than Hou Hsiao-hsien, his face ashen.
Behind him, Producer Zhang Wang was desperately trying to signal him with his eyes, but it was useless.
Hou Hsiao-hsien's gaze swept across the chaotic restroom and finally landed on Jiang Ci.
He looked at Jiang Ci, not with blame, but with a suppressed fire in his eyes.
"I've seen what's happening outside." Director Hou's voice immediately silenced the entire restroom. "I can't control how those flies outside are buzzing. But my people, on my film set, cannot be distracted by this garbage."
He jerked his chin towards the outside. "If holding in your emotions is unbearable, then channel all of it into the scene! If you don't perform well in today's scene, you'll be letting down the fire burning inside you!"
He paused, then added, "The final scene, Shen Qingyuan witnesses his comrade-in-arms sacrifice himself. Go, pour out your anger, your resentment, into the performance! Use the scene to slap their faces!"
The atmosphere on the film set was more oppressive than during any previous scene.
All the anger, resentment, and sorrow were poured by Jiang Ci into the body of Shen Qingyuan at this moment.
In this scene, Shen Qingyuan had to watch his own liaison officer,
the guide who had forcibly dragged him, an innocent student, into the abyss,
accept death before his very eyes, all to ensure the absolute security of his cover.
There was no fierce resistance, no heart-wrenching cries.
The liaison officer simply gave him a relieved smile and silently mouthed two words with his lips—"Live on."
Then, without hesitation, he bit down and shattered the poison capsule hidden in his tooth.
Jiang Ci watched him fall. In that instant, his body instinctively wanted to rush forward, but he was held back firmly by the enemy behind him.
He clenched his back teeth, and a heavy, metallic taste of blood quickly filled his mouth.
He slowly swallowed this taste of blood, mixed with all his grief, indignation, and resentment.
He could not show any abnormal emotion.
At this moment, he was Shen Qingyuan—cowardly, clinging to life, and an opportunist.
The death of his comrade-in-arms should be nothing more than a meaningless performance to him.
However, behind the monitor, everyone saw the storm raging within those eyes, visible through the mask of calmness that bordered on numbness.
A despair that wanted to roar but had to remain silent.
The powerlessness of only being able to watch the most important thing be crushed to pieces.
At this moment, the souls of Shen Qingyuan and Jiang Ci, in completely different times and spaces, overlapped.
They were both in boundless darkness, both carrying secrets they could not speak to anyone.
They could only watch helplessly as their comrade-in-arms, their father, made a heroic sacrifice to protect a certain belief.
And surrounding them were those spectators, lost in a life of luxury and revelry.
The filming ended. Hou Hsiao-hsien did not call "cut." The entire set fell into a long, profound silence.
It wasn't until the clapper loader beside the monitor softly reminded him that the director snapped back to reality and announced the wrap for the day.
Jiang Ci was still trapped in the character's emotions when He Xiaoping walked over and handed him a clean tissue.
She said in a low voice, "I posted too."
Jiang Ci took the tissue somewhat sluggishly and pulled out his phone.
He saw that He Xiaoping had reposted his Weibo post ten minutes ago.
Immediately after, he refreshed the page and discovered that Director Hou Hsiao-hsien's personal account had also reposted his Weibo.
Following that, Su Qingying, Gu Huai, actors who had previously worked with Jiang Ci, and even Wei Song, the director of *The Legend of Han and Chu*, all stepped forward in their own ways.
The legal department of Spark Media had never experienced such a frenzied twenty-four hours.
The printer, having worked non-stop for an extended period, became scorching hot and finally broke down completely.
The Public Relations Director's eyes were bloodshot. She looked at the mountain of public opinion reports piled on her desk,
then looked at the Weibo page on her computer screen, which was constantly being refreshed, with abusive comments growing exponentially.
She was on the verge of a complete breakdown.
Less than five minutes after the team of the top Z celebrity released that sternly worded statement letter claiming they "reserved the right to pursue all legal responsibilities,"
the direction of the internet underwent a terrifying, completely unforeseen reversal.
First, several authoritative organizations, almost within the same second, posted the same update. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
The content was only seven simple words: "Cannot tolerate this. The bottom line still exists."
Below were two accompanying images.
One was an on-site photo covered in heavy mosaics. In one corner of the photo was a vivid red soaked in muddy water.
The other was an all-too-familiar, bright red emblem.
A storm was brewing.
Immediately after, an official announcement smashed into the faces of all the netizens who were still caught up in the frenzy and shock.
The content was clear and concise: Artist Z, due to...
