The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 313: Chacai: "This is a Good Deed, an Act of Kindness"
In the storage room, the echoes had yet to fade.
Jiang Wen stared at the monitor, watching the young man holding the fairy tale book, his face twisted into a smile. He was so exhilarated he trembled all over.
This was exactly what he wanted!
He grabbed the walkie-talkie and roared with all his might.
"Change of location! Everyone to the village entrance! Assemble immediately!"
Before the director's roar had even faded, the set erupted into frantic motion.
The crew on site were swept up by that fervor, rushing towards the next filming location.
Two hours later.
Everything was ready on the open, muddy ground at the village entrance.
A brand-new medium-sized school bus was parked in the gray, decaying morning mist.
The body was painted a bright yellow, with the slogan "Love Donation, Brighten the Future" printed in cartoonish font.
This vivid splash of color appeared glaringly absurd in this dilapidated village shrouded in the dark cloud of drugs.
The Props Team members were unloading dozens of black cases from another truck.
Cello cases, violin cases, and some instrument boxes of indistinguishable shapes.
A glaring red sticker was uniformly affixed to one corner of each case, printed with the words "Donated by the XX Foundation."
Several young Set Workers lifted a case together, their steps somewhat unsteady. The weight of the case far exceeded expectations.
Every single case was incredibly heavy.
The clapperboard snapped shut in front of the camera.
Lei Zhong had already put on the face of a compassionate philanthropist.
He stood beside the school bus, directing the background actors playing his thugs to load the heavy cases onto the vehicle.
Seeing Jiang Ci emerge from behind the crowd, he specifically waved him over.
"Ah He, come here."
Jiang Ci walked over.
Lei Zhong pointed at the cases on the ground, using a gentle, paternal tone.
"Go on, lend a hand. This is a good deed that accumulates virtue and merit."
Jiang Ci said nothing, silently walking over to the largest case, the one holding a cello.
He bent down, grabbed the case's handles with both hands, and used all his strength.
He hoisted the case onto his shoulder.
The moment that crushing weight settled on his shoulder,
Jiang Ci's body sank sharply downward, his knees buckling slightly.
This weight far exceeded his estimation.
According to the script's setting, hidden within the secret compartments of these beautiful instrument cases
was the white powder capable of destroying countless families, dragging countless people into the Abyss.
Jiang Ci carried the case that threatened to crush him, step by arduous step, trudging towards that yellow school bus.
Every child's smiling face would, because of this 'weight' on his shoulder, transform into the cries of some future night.
This was the true weight of sin.
Not far away, Jiang Wen watched this scene through the monitor.
"Push in!"
He growled into the walkie-talkie.
"Give Jiang Ci a close-up!"
The cinematographer immediately pushed the lens in.
On the screen, the bulging veins on the young man's neck and the fine beads of cold sweat seeping from his temples due to the strain were magnified several times over.
Around him, the background actors playing thugs were carrying cases with smirks and casual laughter.
Two of them carried a single case, still appearing effortless.
"Hey, what the hell is in these things? Heavier than a woman."
"Who cares? Finish this load, and we get meat tonight."
Crude jokes and cravings for food floated through the damp, cold air.
He carried the cello case taller than half a person, moving silently through the laughing crowd.
A thug background actor wasn't watching his path. Laughing, he turned and bumped into Jiang Ci's case.
The man turned back cursing, about to speak, but collided with the utterly emotionless eyes in Jiang Ci's gaze.
That look made him swallow all the profanities.
Jiang Ci said nothing, merely adjusted the weight on his shoulder. That look said, "Touch it again, and you die."
He loaded the case onto the bus, stacked it neatly, then turned and walked towards the next one.
The second.
The third.
Every time he bent down, every time he straightened up, every time he shouldered the weight, that burden of sin kept accumulating.
His fingers lost their color from excessive strain.
Sweat soaked through the shirt on his back, clinging tightly to his skin, sticky and uncomfortable.
Just as he was moving the last case, that suppressed, silent anger buried deep in his heart finally found a vent.
He carried the case holding a trumpet into the bus compartment.
As he set it down, the muscles in his arm suddenly tensed, and he slammed the heavy case down hard onto the compartment floor!
"Thud!"
A sound not too loud, yet distinct enough to be clearly heard amidst the surrounding noise.
The case jolted on the floor.
Jiang Wen immediately signaled the camera operator to switch the shot.
Almost simultaneously, Lei Zhong's gaze pierced through the crowd and landed on him.
Jiang Ci (Jiang He)'s back stiffened.
He keenly caught that line of sight.
He immediately adjusted his state.
The numb gloom on his face rapidly faded, replaced by an obsequious, slightly roguish attempt to please.
He turned around, jumped down from the vehicle, dusted off his hands, and actively walked towards Lei Zhong.
He forced a slick, street-smart smile onto his face and explained.
"Uncle, this thing is damn heavy."
He jerked his chin towards the bus compartment.
"What's inside, gold bars?"
This joke cleverly disguised the previous moment of loss of control as a harmless complaint.
Lei Zhong walked over unhurriedly.
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he took a pure white handkerchief from his pocket,
reached out, and meticulously wiped the sweat from Jiang Ci's forehead.
The action was so intimate it was chilling.
Only after wiping away the sweat did Lei Zhong speak with a smile.
"More expensive than gold bars."
His voice was soft, laced with amusement.
"Ah He, from now on, when moving things, handle them gently."
He folded that sweat-dampened handkerchief and returned it to his pocket.
"If they break..."
He paused, patting Jiang Ci's shoulder.
"I'll take your bones apart, one by one, and use them to make it up to your uncle."
As his words fell, the surroundings fell quiet.
The smile on Jiang Ci's face froze for an instant before resuming its previous appearance.
"Yes, yes, Uncle is right to teach me."
All the cases were loaded.
That bright yellow school bus was packed full.
It just sat there quietly, crouching at the gloomy village entrance.
The bus door slammed shut with a "clang."
Jiang Ci stood in place, watching that vehicle.
His hand reached into his pocket, his fingertips habitually searching for the outline of a cigarette, but only finding emptiness.
His fingers rested on the rough fabric for several seconds.
Then, beneath the fabric, they began to dig forcefully into the muscle of his own thigh.
This performance was naturally also captured by the high-definition camera.
Jiang He needed this pain to remind himself where he was,
to remind himself he was not an accomplice, but a blade.
His fingernails, separated by a thin layer of trouser fabric, scratched one red mark after another onto his own thigh.
Only when Jiang Wen's "Cut!" rang out did Jiang Ci's tightly clenched knuckles abruptly relax.
