The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 66: The Graduation Play: My KPI Exploded!

Liu Guodong was petrified on the spot by Jiang Ci's earth-shattering question.

His brain's CPU burned out completely in that instant.

The cigarette he had subconsciously put in his mouth to light was forgotten, left unlit as he stared dumbfounded at Jiang Ci before him.

Is it tragic?

Are there many female characters?

Are these questions a normal person should ask?

That's Huaxing Pictures! An S+ historical epic with a five-billion investment! The cradle of future film emperors!

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to use his decades of experience to understand Jiang Ci's unfathomable train of thought.

In the end, he was utterly defeated.

Liu Guodong looked at Jiang Ci as if he were a lunatic, squeezing the words out through gritted teeth.

"I... how the hell would I know!"

"I only know it's an S+ mega-production, and the male lead might get nominated at the three major film festivals!"

Hearing this vague answer, the terrifying gleam in Jiang Ci's eyes instantly extinguished.

He reverted to that listless, unmotivated slacker look again.

He let out a bored "Oh," and said nothing more.

That "Oh," light as it was, felt like a sledgehammer smashing into Liu Guodong's chest.

His blood pressure "whooshed" up uncontrollably again.

Pointing a trembling finger at Jiang Ci's nose, his lips quivered as he tried to curse.

"You little brat..."

But in the end, not a single curse word came out.

He finally understood.

He and this kid were simply not on the same wavelength right now.

Jiang Ci's heart was utterly calm at this moment.

Film festivals? Film emperors? Five billion?

Those were all illusions, mirages, intangible and unreal.

The only thing he cared about now was the upcoming graduation play.

That was his life-sustaining KPI harvesting ground.

Every grain must be gathered, not a single blade of grass left behind!

Keeping himself alive was more important than anything else.

In the following days, the entire theater group's rehearsal pace was pushed to an unprecedented extreme.

Liu Guodong completely transformed into a tyrannical taskmaster hopped up on adrenaline.

Every day, he patrolled the huge rehearsal hall with a megaphone in hand.

"Pace! Mind the pace! You're performing a play, not strolling through a vegetable market!"

"Emotion! Xia Meng, your emotion is right, but what about the others? Catch it! All of you, catch it!"

Xia Meng had completely transformed.

Her performance retained the textbook-perfect, flawless precision of her past, yet was now infused with a soul-burning, scorching passion.

Every time she had a scene with Jiang Ci, sparks flew.

The other students on stage watched, dumbstruck, often forgetting their own blocking and lines.

And Jiang Ci, while effortlessly matching Xia Meng's "god-tier" performance, was silently weeping tears of blood in his heart.

Rehearsals entered the scene of the argument in the rain again.

Xia Meng, playing Ming Ming, had her emotions completely erupt under Ma Lu's interrogation.

She didn't just step back as the script dictated; instead, in the moment of turning around,

she improvised an additional movement—she abruptly crouched down, wrapping her arms around her head, her body curling into a tight ball.

It was a posture of extreme fragility, yet filled with silent rebellion.

It portrayed the inner conflict and despair of the character "Ming Ming" to the fullest.

"Excellent!"

Liu Guodong below the stage slapped his thigh in excitement.

The other students were also mesmerized, murmuring words of admiration.

Jiang Ci perfectly caught the scene. He didn't immediately step forward, but paused for a second,

using Ma Lu's gaze of pain and pity to watch the curled-up figure on the ground.

The atmosphere was absolutely perfect.

However, in his mind, it was a completely different scene.

"This crouching movement is great, full of emotional tension."

"But..."

"There's no crying point, no angle for heartbreak!"

"The audience will just think she acted really well, but they won't feel heartache for us."

"A total loss."

While looking at Xia Meng with the most affectionate gaze, Jiang Ci rapidly calculated in his heart.

"At the next emotional point, I need to guide it a bit. Can't let her just focus on showing off her acting chops."

"Need to make her break."

"Strive... strive to get her to contribute some Heartbreak Value."

This extreme contrast between his inner and outer selves made him feel a bit mentally split.

Despite his immense heartache over his pitifully low KPI, Jiang Ci also genuinely admitted that Xia Meng's performance was getting better day by day, more vibrant and full of life with each passing day.

He even felt an absolute confidence.

On the day of the public performance, their duo could drain all the emotions of every audience member below the stage.

Time flew by.

December 28th, dusk.

The final dress rehearsal.

Both Jiang Ci and Xia Meng's states had reached an unprecedented peak.

The overall completion level of the entire play was so high that Liu Guodong, watching from below, was moved to tears. He took off his glasses, wiping them over and over.

After the rehearsal ended, everyone was immersed in a state of extreme excitement and exhaustion.

Jiang Ci didn't leave with the others.

He walked down from the stage alone and sat in the first row of the empty audience seats.

The theater was very quiet, only a few work lights above were still on, casting his shadow long.

He opened the system panel only he could see.

That line of cold numbers appeared especially glaring in the dim light.

[Remaining Lifespan: 125 days, 3 hours, 15 minutes]

He looked at this number, his gaze calm, yet incredibly resolute.

At the same time, several thousand kilometers away at Shanghai International Airport.

A woman wearing a black baseball cap, sunglasses, and a mask, bundled up tightly, dragged a simple suitcase and walked into the VIP channel.

During security check, she took her ID and plane ticket from her trench coat pocket.

The destination column on the ticket was clearly printed with two words.

The capital.

December 30th, afternoon.

Outside the Beijing Film Academy Grand Theater, the crowd surged, an unprecedented spectacle.

This originally internal public performance of the graduation play, because of Jiang Ci and Xia Meng's "celestial duo" and Jiang Ci's various online controversies, had long been hyped into a widely anticipated focal point.

Scalpers had driven the price of the originally free internal tickets up to four-digit sky-high prices, and they were still in short supply.

"Holy crap, this scale is even more exaggerated than a top-tier celebrity's concert!"

Zhao Zhen, wearing his most expensive jacket, was so excited his face was red.

He and Chen Mo, relying on two internal tickets Jiang Ci had secured for them in advance, walked into the theater with heads held high under the envious and jealous gazes of the crowd.

Their seats were in the third row, right in the center—the golden spot.

After sitting down, the two looked left and right, finding everything novel.

Inside the theater, the atmosphere was solemn and dignified, yet carrying the oppressive tension before a storm.

Most of the seats in the first row were still empty, but each seat had a name displayed on an exquisite brass plaque.

Artistic Director of Huaxing Pictures—Wei Song.

Head of Acquisition Department, Feitian TV Station—Li Jianguo.

Famous Gold Medal Producer—Wang Ke.

...

Every name represented a major force within the Chinese film and television industry, each capable of making the industry tremble with a single stomp.

Chen Mo adjusted his black-framed glasses, lowered his voice, and nudged Zhao Zhen beside him with his elbow.

"Hey, see that woman in the corner wearing a bucket hat?"

Zhao Zhen followed his gaze.

In the most inconspicuous corner of the theater sat a woman, dressed low-key, almost blending into the shadows.

"Who is it?" Zhao Zhen asked.

"If I'm not mistaken," Chen Mo's voice dropped even lower, carrying a hint of academic analytical rigor, "based on her body shape and contour, and that habitual, slightly raised pinky finger movement she made when drinking water just now..."

"That's the film empress, Su Qingying."

"Hiss—"

Zhao Zhen sucked in a sharp breath on the spot.

Film empress?

Su Qingying?!

Why would she come here to watch a student graduation performance?

Su Qingying had indeed come.

She had refused the first-row seat arranged by the school, choosing this corner that overlooked the entire venue instead.

Her gaze swept over the audience imperceptibly.

When her line of sight passed over the nameplate belonging to "Wei Song" in the first row, her beautiful brows, hidden under the shadow of her hat brim, imperceptibly, slightly furrowed.

Backstage, dressing room.

Liu Guodong paced back and forth anxiously with his hands behind his back, muttering nonstop.

"Steady, must stay steady... just perform at the usual rehearsal level... no, perform beyond it..."

Xia Meng, wearing her costume, sat alone in a corner, quietly closing her eyes to rest, adjusting her breathing.

Her face held an unprecedented calm.

She no longer needed to arm herself with cold technique; the fiercely burning flame inside her was her best state.

On the other side, Jiang Ci was directing the makeup artist in front of the mirror.

"Teacher, could you trouble me a bit? Can you make these dark circles under the eyes a bit heavier?"

The makeup artist was an experienced older sister who was taken aback by his request.

"Jiang, your skin base is so good, there's no need for such heavy sick makeup. It might look unnatural under high-definition cameras."

But Jiang Ci looked utterly serious, his expression grave as if discussing some matter of national importance.

"No, teacher, this is very important."

He pointed at his own face.

"This is related to whether I can eat my fill."

Makeup Artist: "???"

Her face was full of question marks, completely unable to understand this logic.

This kid is so handsome, his acting is so good, how could he not eat his fill?

Is he joking?

But looking at his serious expression, it didn't seem like it.

In the end, although utterly confused, the makeup artist, upholding her professional spirit, followed his request and intensified that sense of brokenness and sickly weakness a bit more.

Five minutes before the performance began.

Xia Meng opened her eyes, stood up, and walked to Jiang Ci's side.

This was the first time she had actively sought him out before a performance.

She extended her hand, those eyes that were once as cold as frost now looking at him with burning intensity.

"Jiang Ci, thank you."

"Tonight, together, let's become Ma Lu and Ming Ming."