The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 300: Coming Back to Life, All for This Sweet Taste

Jiang Wen's voice seared through the silence of the film set.

For a full five minutes, no one dared to breathe loudly.

Only the faint hum of running equipment remained on the set.

In the corner, the old narcotics officer consultant with graying temples finally slowly sank back into his chair.

He fumbled a cigarette case from his pocket, shook it for a long time, before managing to pull out a single cigarette.

He brought a lighter to his mouth and pressed the switch.

*Click.*

A flame leapt up, yet it couldn't light the cigarette.

Because his hand was trembling too violently.

He wasn't watching an actor.

In a daze, he caught a whiff of a coppery sweetness that existed only in memory.

What he saw was the informant from over a decade ago, the one who had died in his arms.

That young man, in the end, was just like this. Amidst the extreme agony of life draining away,

he had faced a blank wall, revealed a smile of release, and murmured about the sweet and sour spare ribs his mom used to make.

The silence of the set was torn apart by a flurry of panicked footsteps.

The moment Jiang Wen roared "Take a two-hour break!", the taut string finally snapped.

Sun Zhou shoved aside the set assistant who had long since gone slack and lunged towards the figure curled up in the filthy corner.

Clutching a thick woolen blanket, he rushed over, wrapping Jiang Ci tightly within it,

trying to use this pitiful bit of warmth to pull him back from that scene.

Jiang Ci's body was still trembling with uncontrollable, minute shivers.

The instant Sun Zhou touched him, he subconsciously activated a system skill.

[Emotion Isolation]

All the pain, despair, and madness originating from the character were slowly severed.

But his deathly pale complexion and the veins bulging almost to bursting beneath his skin were not an act.

It was his body voicing its most authentic protest.

Physiological exhaustion couldn't be reversed by a mere thought.

He was like someone just pulled from icy water, every pore exuding a chilling cold. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Sun Zhou knelt on the ground, frantically pulling a high-calorie chocolate bar from his own pocket, his hands trembling as he peeled off the foil wrapper.

"Bro, eat... eat something..." His voice was choked with tears.

He brought the chocolate to Jiang Ci's lips.

The chocolate slipped from his fingers, falling onto the filthy, waterlogged ground.

And at that very moment, a torrent of system notifications exploded in his mind.

[Ding! Detected extreme collective empathy! From set assistant Xiaohua, Heartbreak Value +188!]

[Ding! Detected high-intensity compassionate heartbreak! From Assistant Director Sister Wang, Heartbreak Value +210!]

[...]

Sun Zhou hurriedly reached to pick it up, the water on his hand instantly dirtying the other half of the chocolate.

He didn't care. He offered this life-saving energy block once more.

Jiang Ci reached out a hand, wanting to take it.

But he couldn't control his trembling fingers. That small piece of chocolate slipped from his grasp a second time.

He didn't show frustration or impatience.

He just lowered his head, looking at the chocolate on the ground, now covered in dust and filthy water,

then slowly, laboriously bent down, and with two fingers that still quivered slightly, picked it up.

Then, under the gaze of everyone present, he put that dirty chocolate into his mouth.

A gritty sweetness melted on his tongue.

Jiang Ci's cheek slowly bulged.

He chewed slowly, deliberately.

Staring at the empty air before him, his eyes—which just moments ago had been filled with madness and shattering—were now utterly vacant.

After a long while, he mumbled indistinctly.

"...Sweet."

"Alive again."

At this moment.

The figure who had been terrifyingly mad before the camera, and the overly docile young man before them now, who showed such satisfaction from a mere hint of sweetness,

formed a contrast of nuclear-blast proportions.

Beside the monitor, the recently graduated female clapper loader could no longer hold back, bursting into loud, wracking sobs.

Even the burly, tough-looking stuntmen silently turned away, roughly rubbing their eyes.

Jiang Wen stood with his back to everyone, took a deep, harsh drag of his cigarette,

then exhaled the smoke with force, the white cloud blurring his hard-edged face.

This was the most heartbreakingly real portrayal of an actor after pouring out his heart and soul.

This was the ultimate professionalism, the most precious childlike sincerity in this impetuous era.

Only Jiang Ci himself knew the truth.

He was just having a low blood sugar episode, and he thought this damn chocolate was really, really good.

"Everyone listen up!"

Jiang Wen threw down the cigarette butt, grinding it out viciously under his heel.

"Take a two-hour break!"

After barking the order, he added another line.

"Turn the heater to max."

...

One hour later, in the corner.

Jiang Ci, wrapped in a thick blanket, his face still deathly pale, but his eyes now clear and alert.

He was cradling his oversized, military-green thermos cup,

taking small, careful sips of the ginger tea Sun Zhou had just brewed with boiling water, loaded with double the amount of brown sugar.

As he drank, he pulled out his phone and, expressionless, searched a shopping app for "portable high-calorie nutritional supplement bars (military edition),"

even taking a moment to compare the ingredient lists and calorie counts of several products.

This scene made Lei Zhong, who was secretly observing him from not too far away, wear an even more complicated expression.

This kid was a madman in the scenes, yet outside them, he was meticulously health-conscious.

He was the spitting image of a retired veteran preparing to head out for winter training at any moment.

Lei Zhong began silently steeling himself for the afternoon's scene.

It would be a true scene about "taming."

...

Two hours later, the set transformed.

The location was no longer that filthy bathroom, but the dim, oppressive bedroom of the drug lord Cha Cai from the script.

Only a bed and a single chair remained in the room.

All other lighting was removed, leaving only a single overhead light shining down at an angle from the ceiling,

casting a solitary circle of light on the floor.

The afternoon's filming was about to begin.

Lei Zhong had changed into a silk robe, left open to reveal the ferocious tattoo on his chest.

He sat on the edge of the bed, idly playing with a sharp dagger.

And Jiang Ci, still wearing those thin clothes, was ordered to sit on the chair placed at the center of the circle of light.

He held his thermos cup, quietly sipping the ginger tea Sun Zhou had refilled for him, a hint of color having returned to his face.

Jiang Wen's voice came from the darkness.

"Lei Zhong."

"For this scene, I want you to make him fear you."

"I want Jiang He to be completely tamed by you."

Hearing this, Lei Zhong looked up, a vicious smile twisting his face.

He stabbed the dagger in his hand into an apple on the bedside table,

then stood up and stepped, one deliberate step at a time, into that circle of light.