The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 310: The Mad Dog Bares Its Fangs
The lights inside the villa abruptly went out, and the clamor of the film set faded into the distance.
The online storm over *Vogue* magazine's sales and the frenzied discussions about the "Ruins Deity" were all shut out beyond the film crew.
Three days later, the crew's bus jolted along a rugged mountain road, finally coming to a stop at the edge of a dense fog.
This was the border of Yunnan province, a primitive village not even marked on the map.
The bus door opened, and a wave of damp, bone-chilling mist hit them in the face.
There were no roads here, and cell phone signal was completely nonexistent.
This was the "perfect filming location" Jiang Wen had selected in advance.
The crew members disembarked one after another, their feet sinking into the muddy ground.
The village was quiet, unnervingly quiet.
Only the hollow cries of unknown birds echoed from the distant mountain forests.
Villagers peeked out from low stilt houses, from the ridges of fields, from beneath gray, dilapidated eaves.
They slowly halted their work, their dull gazes swiveling in unison toward these uninvited guests.
Jiang Ci was the last to get off the bus.
He unconsciously gripped the unsharpened prop dagger in his hand.
His assistant, Sun Zhou, followed behind him, wanting to offer a steadying hand but not daring to.
These past few days, Jiang Ci had barely spoken. The gloomy, violent aura emanating from him made everyone in the crew consciously or unconsciously avoid him.
Lei Zhong also got off the bus.
Off-camera, he deliberately maintained his distance from Jiang Ci, yet that intangible sense of oppression always hung around Jiang Ci.
He walked up to Jiang Ci, fished out a clumsily hand-rolled local cigarette from his pocket, and offered it.
It was a test, and also a kind of charity belonging to "Cha Cai."
Jiang Ci did not accept it.
He merely bent down, picked up a dry stalk of thatch from the muddy ground, and put it between his teeth.
He lifted his face, looking toward the depths of the village. On that youthful face was an indifference colder than Lei Zhong's.
Lei Zhong's hand paused mid-air for a moment before he retracted it as if nothing had happened, lighting the cigarette himself.
Thick, pungent smoke laced with the smell of burning spread through the damp, cold air.
Jiang Wen's booming voice shattered the silence.
"What the hell are you all standing around for! Action!"
The first scene: Cha Cai, with his newly acquired "mad dog" Jiang He, officially steps into this kingdom that belongs to him.
The camera rolled.
Lei Zhong walked ahead, his steps steady.
Jiang Ci followed close behind, not missing a step.
As they entered the village entrance, all the villagers stopped moving, silently standing straight and fixing their eyes on them.
This oppressive silence was more unnerving than any frenzied cheers.
It silently declared that here, Cha Cai was the supreme god.
Jiang Ci, or rather Jiang He, followed behind.
He took out the specially modified private phone equipped with listening devices from his pocket.
On the screen, where the signal bars should be, there was only blank space.
He needed to find a high point, or a specific area, to possibly transmit the intelligence.
The difficulty of the mission was amplified exponentially by this isolated environment.
They passed by a terraced field.
The field was planted with corn stalks half a person tall, growing vigorously.
Jiang He's footsteps suddenly halted.
He stopped, his nostrils twitching slightly in the damp, cold air.
In the wind, besides the smell of earth and decaying plants, there was an extremely faint, peculiar sour stench.
It was the scent left behind by the raw materials for manufacturing new drugs, repeatedly masked with lime and various chemicals but still impossible to completely erase.
Just then, a dark-skinned villager in local attire suddenly rushed out from the field ridge, blocking their path.
He faced Jiang Ci, shouting reprimands in a completely incomprehensible dialect.
Specks of spit landed on Jiang Ci's face.
Jiang Ci didn't understand.
But he read the protective ferocity and the killing intent on the other man's face.
In the script, Jiang He was supposed to show retreat and submission at this moment, fitting his "newcomer" status.
The Assistant Director and Sun Zhou's hearts leaped into their throats.
Jiang Ci did not retreat.
The moment the villager's finger was almost poking his nose, he moved.
He suddenly reached out, grabbed the collar of the villager's coarse cloth shirt, and yanked him violently forward.
Their faces were less than ten centimeters apart.
Those bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at the other man.
They were filled with ferocity.
"Get lost!"
The word was uttered with immense force.
"Do you even know who the hell I am!"
The previously aggressive villager was completely cowed by this.
He froze in place, even forgetting to struggle.
Everyone on set was stunned by Jiang Ci's outburst.
This was completely outside the script.
Lei Zhong stood to the side, not intervening.
He watched this scene with keen interest, watching the "mad dog" he had picked up bare its fangs for the first time.
A few seconds later, he suddenly burst into loud laughter.
The laughter sounded especially jarring in the village.
He walked forward and patted Jiang Ci's cheek.
Then, he said something to the now terrified villager in the local dialect.
The villager suddenly stiffened, his face instantly showing obsequiousness and fear.
He nodded and bowed repeatedly, scrambling to the side on hands and feet.
Lei Zhong turned his head, looking at Jiang Ci.
"Here," his voice was very low, "only by being worse than them will they fear you."
"You did very well, Ah He."
This praise was both the taming of Jiang He and an affirmation of Jiang Ci's performance.
The crew continued deeper into the village.
The filming location for tonight's night scene was a derelict stilt house built on a hillside.
Through the cracks in the floorboards, one could still see long-dried, dark red stains.
Jiang Wen was utterly satisfied with this setting.
He tapped the rotten railing with his cane and announced to everyone.
"No need for set dressing, this is the place!"
"Tonight, we shoot right here!"
Night fell.
The mountain night was bitterly cold.
The crew set up lights and equipment around the stilt house, preparing for the night shoot.
Jiang Ci was assigned to a small, cramped room on the second floor.
The room was empty except for a worn-out bamboo bed.
Wind howled through the gaps in the wooden planks, making ghostly, wolf-like sounds.
Jiang Ci did not turn on the light.
He sat in the darkness, using a scrap of cloth to wipe the prop dagger in his hand over and over again.
Just then.
"Knock knock."
Two faint knocks on the door.
Jiang Ci's movements paused.
He didn't make a sound, but the hand holding the dagger tightened silently.
The door wasn't locked.
With a teeth-grating creak, the old wooden door was pushed open a crack from the outside.
A flickering, dim yellow light shone through the crack, casting a long, narrow patch of light on the floor.
Lei Zhong's face appeared behind the crack.
Half of his face was hidden in darkness, the other half illuminated by the old-fashioned kerosene lamp in his hand, wearing a strange smile.
He carried the kerosene lamp into the room.
"Ah He, can't sleep?"
His voice was very soft, very gentle, completely different from his daytime brutality.
"Come on, Uncle will take you to see something good."
