The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 274: Boss: Your Mandatory Leave Has Been Credited!
The plane landed smoothly at the capital airport.
The cabin door opened, and Jiang Ci habitually adjusted the collar of his trench coat.
Even though it was just an ordinary coat, he had already mobilized his entire body's muscle memory.
He prepared to face any potential crowd or pursuit waiting outside the passageway with the bearing that belonged to "Xiang Yu."
However, as he followed the flow of people out of the VIP passage, the anticipated commotion did not occur.
There were no fans, no reporters, not even a single sneaky phone camera.
The arrivals area was so empty it felt a bit desolate.
There was only one slender young man holding a sign that read "Mr. Sun," anxiously looking around.
It was Sun Zhou.
Jiang Ci walked over. Sun Zhou, as if grabbing a lifeline, hurriedly stuffed the pick-up sign behind his back.
"Ci-ge, this way."
Sun Zhou led him towards the parking lot. Jiang Ci was full of questions, but they were choked back by the sight before him.
A completely black entourage van sat quietly in a parking spot.
The model was extremely low-key, but the paintwork, polished enough to reflect a clear image, and the deeply tinted, light-blocking privacy windows silently proclaimed its value.
Sun Zhou deftly pulled open the car door, stowed the luggage, and urged Jiang Ci to get in.
"Where's Director Lin? How is the roadshow press conference arranged?" Jiang Ci asked as he got into the car.
"Director Lin... has everything arranged."
Sun Zhou, usually a chatterbox, seemed to have his mouth sealed shut at this moment, unable to utter a single superfluous word.
He not only dared not look Jiang Ci in the eye, but even deliberately lightened his breathing.
His hands gripped the steering wheel, veins bulging on the back of his hands, as if he were carrying out some life-or-death secret mission.
With every question Jiang Ci asked, his body gave a little shudder.
He had the words "I can't say anything, I'll die if I do" written plainly across his face.
The car drove smoothly out onto the airport expressway.
Jiang Ci watched the street scenes receding rapidly outside the window and soon noticed the route was wrong.
The car wasn't heading towards the city center, and it certainly wasn't going in the direction of Spark Media.
It headed west the whole way, turning onto a quiet road leading to the outskirts of the capital.
"Sun Zhou, where are we going?" Jiang Ci asked again, his tone dropping half a degree.
Sun Zhou stiffened, stammering, "Going... going to a place to rest. Arranged by Director Lin."
Finally, the car slowly came to a stop before a heavy automatic gate.
The wealthy district in the capital's outskirts, Xishan Yihao Yuan.
After the vehicle passed license plate recognition and online identity verification, the gate slid open silently, and the car slowly drove in.
It stopped in front of an independent two-story Chinese-style courtyard.
Standing on the stone steps at the courtyard entrance was a woman.
She wore loose-fitting linen loungewear, her long hair casually tied up at the back, and she held a pair of silver shears for trimming flower branches in her hand.
She seemed relaxed, but when her gaze swept over, the unyielding, oppressive aura she exuded was stronger than any tyrant director on a film set.
It was Lin Wan.
Jiang Ci had just gotten out of the car, not yet steady on his feet.
Lin Wan had already extended her hand, her movements crisp and decisive.
"Tablet, script, hand them over."
Jiang Ci was stunned. "What?"
"Contraband, all confiscated." Lin Wan pointed her silver shears at the backpack he carried.
Jiang Ci didn't understand, but he still handed over the tablet and the "Icebreaker" script he had been studying repeatedly.
Lin Wan took them and directly tossed them to Sun Zhou, leaving Jiang Ci with only a mobile phone.
"The press conference..."
"I've already notified Director Wei," Lin Wan interrupted him. "Publicly, it's announced that you are undergoing 'closed artistic immersion' for your next role."
She looked Jiang Ci up and down.
"In reality, it's a forced vacation."
Lin Wan turned sideways, clearing the path to the main door.
"Go in. For the next few days, you have only one task."
"Do what?"
"Be Jiang Ci again."
Lin Wan announced the rules, leaving no room for negotiation.
"No discussing any acting-related topics, no searching for work-related information, no contacting anyone in the industry except me and Sun Zhou."
Jiang Ci was pushed through that heavy solid wood door.
Inside was another world, completely isolated from the outside.
Luxurious, comfortable, so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat.
Yet, he only felt a nameless panic.
No script, no role.
This absolute silence was more suffocating than any clamor.
He habitually summoned the system panel.
[Heartbreak Value Balance: 8456 points]
[Remaining Lifespan: 7 years, 8 months, 9 days]
His life balance was more than sufficient.
Yet he felt more anxious than ever.
Night fell. Jiang Ci lay in bed.
He couldn't sleep. The expensive mattress was as soft as quicksand, silently swallowing him.
In his mind, images flashed uncontrollably.
One moment, it was Shen Qingyuan dancing a lonely tango in the pouring rain, facing nothingness.
The next, it was Xiang Yu standing by the Wu River, amidst the Chu Songs from all sides, looking back towards Jiangdong with desolation.
In the darkness, his fingers curled unconsciously, performing the precise motion of cleaning a gun.
Immediately after, his five fingers came together, his wrist turned, mimicking the starting gesture of drawing a sword.
Had the [Emotional Isolation] skill failed?
No.
This wasn't being too deeply immersed in a role. It was something more terrifying—withdrawal symptoms.
His body and soul had grown accustomed to being filled with the tragedies of characters.
Once that was stripped away, what remained was an unbearable, immense emptiness.
Jiang Ci sat up in bed.
He couldn't stay here any longer.
He needed a script, a role, needed to use someone else's pain to fill himself.
He tiptoed and opened the bedroom door, trying to sneak out and retrieve the confiscated "Icebreaker."
The living room was pitch black.
He had only taken two steps when a faint voice came from the shadows.
"Can't sleep?"
Jiang Ci's steps halted.
He followed the sound and saw Lin Wan in a bathrobe, sitting alone on the sofa. On the coffee table before her was a cup of clear tea, steaming with heat.
She seemed to have anticipated he would come out.
"If you can't sleep, have a cup of tea. It's calming."
"Where's my script?" Jiang Ci got straight to the point.
"I said, contraband." Lin Wan picked up the teacup, blowing on the steam.
Jiang Ci's breathing hitched for a moment. He tried to regain his logic. "Lin Wan, I need to work. I can't..."
"In your current state, you can't film 'Icebreaker,'" Lin Wan hit the nail on the head. "That role would devour you."
Seeing the agitation on Jiang Ci's face, Lin Wan put down her teacup and suddenly said something seemingly out of nowhere.
"Stop struggling."
"Rest up well. In a couple of days... there's something you'll need to face personally."
That night, Jiang Ci didn't know how he fell asleep.
He sank into a long-lost dream, one without joys and sorrows, reunions and partings.
There were no heart-wrenching farewells in the dream, only a circle of warm, yellowish light.
The air was filled with a faint, fresh-from-the-oven scent of cake.
A figure sat opposite him. He couldn't see her face clearly.
He could only see the gentle curve at the corner of her mouth as she inserted candles for him.
Softly, over and over again, she hummed the birthday song for him.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."
A warm, damp sensation came from the corner of his eye, silently soaking the pillowcase.
He wept soundlessly in the dream, but upon waking, he couldn't remember, no matter how hard he tried,
who that woman who sang for him was.
