The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 58: A Tear for Deification? No—I’m Thinking About My Mom!
The next day, Saturday.
The atmosphere in the rehearsal hall was even more severe than the cold wind outside the window.
The online storm of blood and fury seemed not to have affected this place in the slightest, yet everyone could feel that taut string in the air.
Xia Meng arrived earlier than yesterday.
She didn't communicate with anyone.
She just stood alone in the center of the stage, repeating Ming Ming's movements and lines over and over again.
Formal rehearsal began.
Liu Guodong sat in his usual spot, expressionless, only his gaze sharper than yesterday.
"Xia Meng, run through that scene you got stuck on yesterday again."
The part where Ming Ming rejects Ma Lu's confession.
Xia Meng nodded.
Without the slightest hesitation, she immediately entered character.
From the angle of her turn, to the timing of raising her hand, to the tone and pauses of every line, everything was perfect, as if measured with a metronome.
"I don't have feelings for you."
"The things you give me, I won't accept."
"Please, don't bother me anymore in the future."
It was a flawless performance.
Technically, it had reached textbook-level standards.
Students observing on the side had even started taking notes, trying to deconstruct the design behind her every movement.
The performance ended.
Xia Meng stood quietly in place.
Liu Guodong didn't speak.
The other students didn't dare speak either; they thought it was already very good, so good it made them, mere mortals, feel suffocated.
Right then.
"Wrong."
A voice spoke softly.
It was Jiang Ci.
He shook his head.
Everyone's gaze instantly focused on him.
Xia Meng's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. She slowly turned her head, her icy gaze locking onto Jiang Ci.
Him again.
A barely noticeable curve lifted the corner of Liu Guodong's mouth.
This was what he had been waiting for.
"Teacher Liu," Jiang Ci stood up, his expression calm, "can I... give it a try too?"
The observing students were dumbfounded.
Give it a try?
How was he going to try?
Use his set of "performance methodology" with uncontrollable emotions to clash with Xia Meng's impregnable iceberg?
Xia Meng didn't speak, just looked at Jiang Ci, her eyes filled with scrutiny and a trace of hidden disdain.
She admitted his voice had talent.
She also admitted his understanding of the character was unique.
But acting, in the end, was a rigorous science.
It couldn't be sustained by that vague, intangible "feeling."
"Alright." Liu Guodong agreed crisply and decisively.
Jiang Ci walked onto the stage.
He didn't stand at Ma Lu's position, but walked to where Xia Meng had just stood.
Everyone was stunned.
What was he doing?
"I'll play Ming Ming." Jiang Ci said calmly.
The rehearsal hall erupted in an uproar.
Xia Meng's pupils contracted sharply.
She looked at Jiang Ci, cracks appearing in her perpetually frozen expression.
He... was provoking her.
Challenging her with the character she was best at, in the field she was most familiar with.
"Begin." Liu Guodong uttered two words, leaning forward, his gaze locked on the stage.
Jiang Ci moved.
He turned, the angle exactly the same as Xia Meng's just moments ago.
He raised his hand, making a gesture of rejection, the height of his wrist identical to Xia Meng's earlier position.
Then, he spoke.
"I don't have feelings for you."
The tone, the rhythm, the pauses.
A perfect replication!
Gasps echoed through the rehearsal hall.
Several students stared in disbelief, their eyes darting between Jiang Ci and Xia Meng as if looking at a pair of eerie twins.
How was this possible?!
Wasn't Jiang Ci an experiential actor? Didn't he lose control once his emotions surged?
This absolute control over his body and voice... this was a level only a technical actor could achieve!
Xia Meng's face instantly turned deathly pale.
The high wall she had built over more than a decade with sweat and self-discipline.
Before this man, it crumbled so easily.
He had only watched it once.
And learned it all. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶
No.
This wasn't "learning."
This was blatant "overwhelming."
In a casual, effortless way, he proved to her, to everyone—
What you can do, I can do too.
And, without any effort.
The performance continued.
Jiang Ci perfectly replicated every detail of Xia Meng's.
"The things you give me, I won't accept."
"Please, don't bother me anymore in the future."
Line after line was delivered, icy, precise, flawless.
In a corner, a girl muttered to herself, "He's crazy... this guy is truly insane..."
Until the final line.
According to the script, after saying the final line of rejection, Ming Ming should turn and leave resolutely.
Jiang Ci's performance also reached this point.
He looked ahead at the empty space, as if Ma Lu, that persistent pursuer, stood there.
He parted his lips and, using the exact same tone as Xia Meng's, one so cold it held not a trace of human warmth, delivered that line.
"What I love is myself."
After saying it.
The Eye Micro-expressions skill, which he had already mastered to perfection, activated subconsciously.
Right as he turned, his profile facing the audience.
A single tear.
Without warning, silently slid from the corner of his right eye.
That tear was crystal clear, scalding hot.
The moment it appeared, it was so abrupt, so illogical.
Yet in an instant, it pierced through all the icy exterior of the Ming Ming character, revealing the suppressed contradiction, fragility, and pain buried deep beneath.
He didn't love himself.
He had nothing left except himself.
That tear didn't linger.
It had only fallen halfway before Jiang Ci, seemingly inadvertently, wiped it away with the back of his hand.
So fast it made people think it was just an illusion.
A phantom caused by the stage lighting.
The entire rehearsal hall was dead silent.
People were nailed to their spots, their hearts feeling as if gripped by an invisible hand.
Liu Guodong was completely frozen, his mouth agape, unable to make a sound.
Xia Meng trembled violently all over, as if struck by lightning.
She stared fixedly at Jiang Ci's back, all the blood in her body seeming to freeze in that moment.
The pinnacle of technique...
Was this the pinnacle of technique?
So, the most extreme technique wasn't for precisely "expressing" emotion.
It was for precisely "controlling" the emotion on the verge of collapse.
Before that tear, her textbook-perfect performance seemed so hollow, so laughable.
Jiang Ci didn't turn to look at her.
He just stood there, as if not yet detached from the character.
He spoke to the empty air, in a voice barely audible, saying softly,
"You've never loved anyone, and you've never loved yourself."
"You're just afraid of making mistakes."
After saying it.
He walked off the stage, his face carrying the exhaustion and detachment after a performance.
As if that single earth-shattering, divine tear was just a casually completed classroom exercise, yet it had also consumed a tremendous amount of his mental energy.
This attitude of making the difficult look effortless was more devastating than any verbal declaration of victory.
It completely crushed Xia Meng's last shred of pride.
She stood stiffly on the stage, like a puppet.
After a long time.
She moved.
Walked off the stage, step by step, until she stood before Jiang Ci.
Her voice trembled, every word seeming forced through gritted teeth.
"How did you do it this time?"
Jiang Ci was drinking water from his cup and was startled by her murderous expression.
He blinked blankly, seriously thinking back.
Then, he scratched his head and gave a simple, unadorned answer.
"Oh, I was just thinking, if my mom knew I skipped dinner for rehearsal, she'd definitely scold me."
"Feeling sad, the tears just came down."
