Chapter 338: A heart full of love, a play that transcends all else
Chapter 338: A heart full of love, a play that transcends all else
Chapter 338: A heart full of love, a play that transcends all else
The push notification's text was extremely concise.
A single photo, freezing Jiang Ci's lonely figure at the end of the red carpet as he turned back to bow.
A line of accompanying text, twelve characters, each one carrying immense weight.
"A heart filled with great love, the play is greater than heaven. Cultural and artistic workers should be like this."
The roar that had rushed to Lin Wan's lips froze solid in her throat the instant she clearly saw that line of text.
The flush of blood on her face, reddened from agitation and anger, rapidly faded.
Jiang Ci leaned against the wall, using the phone Sun Zhou handed over to finish reading that push notification.
Then, he lifted his head and asked his boss seriously.
"Sister Wan, for the celebration banquet family bucket, can you add an extra pair of wings for me?"
Lin Wan: "..."
Sun Zhou: "..."
This single sentence violently yanked Lin Wan back to reality from the shockwave of the official media's authoritative tone.
She looked at Jiang Ci's excessively pale face from exhaustion, looked at his appearance of still thinking about chicken wings,
half of the fire in her chest, that mix of heartache and the urge to punch someone, dissipated.
The other half transformed into a torrential flood of protective instinct.
Her phone had been vibrating incessantly since earlier.
Lin Wan pulled out her phone, glanced at the caller ID, and directly hung up.
But as soon as the call ended, another number immediately jumped in.
It was those capital forces that had once avoided Jiang Ci like the plague, even secretly participated in suppressing him.
Lin Wan answered with a cold face, putting it on speakerphone.
"Director Lin! Congratulations, congratulations! I always knew that kid Jiang Ci was a dragon among men!" The voice on the other end was greasy and enthusiastic.
"Our company's latest S-Class fantasy drama, the male lead is tailor-made for Jiang Ci, name your price for the salary!"
Lin Wan's face remained expressionless.
"Not taking it."
"Huh? Director Lin, the price is negotiable..."
"I said, he's not taking it." Lin Wan's voice was cold as ice. "Don't you understand human speech?"
She directly hung up, didn't even look at the next incoming call, and switched her phone to airplane mode.
"Sun Zhou, issue an announcement." Lin Wan's instructions were clear and forceful. "Just say what Jiang Ci needs now is rest, not money-grabbing."
Sun Zhou was stunned for a moment, but immediately nodded.
"Yes, Sister Wan!"
Only after doing all this did Lin Wan truly let out a sigh of relief.
She looked at Jiang Ci, who was still slumped on the floor, studying how many layers of gold plating were on the trophy,
and finally couldn't hold back, cursing out loud.
"You brat, you really want to make yourself into a nationally protected first-class animal, don't you!"
At the same time, on the internet, two hashtags, boosted by that official media Weibo post, completely exploded.
#JiangCi LivesInTheSunlight#
#JiangCi ReturnsTheTrophyToTheRole#
Weibo's servers, for the second time in a month because of the same person, turned into a 404.
Programmers were dragged out in the middle of the night, fixing the crashed backend while silently giving Jiang Ci a "like" in their code comments.
That night, back at the apartment.
Jiang Ci looked at the system panel, at the heartbreak value balance that had skyrocketed due to the Golden Rooster Awards battle, yet his heart was unusually calm.
[Current Heartbreak Value Balance: 25,755 points]
[Remaining Lifespan: 16 years, 9 months, and 18 days]
He had a huge amount of time to think about some questions he hadn't had time to consider before.
For example, what exactly is acting.
He pulled that worn, dog-eared 'Icebreaker' script from the bookshelf.
Ran his fingers over the passages marked with red pen.
Before, he acted to complete tasks, a machine producing "Bad Ending Aesthetics."
Tragedy was a formula, tears were numerical values.
But from Shen Qingyuan to Jiang He, something had become different.
He began to enjoy that pain of shattering himself and then reshaping into another person.
Staying alive was just one reason he had to perform tragedies.
But how to perform, what to perform it into, was his own choice.
He wanted to master tragedy.
Within the destined tragedy, perform vitality, perform emotions more intense than a Happy Ending.
Just as Jiang Ci's thoughts wandered far away, his phone rang.
Director Zhang's name flashed on the screen.
Jiang Ci answered the call, and the other side got straight to the point.
"Jiang Ci, 'Longing Across Time' is having its premiere."
"Oh?"
"The location is right in the capital, I saved a seat for you." Zhang Mouyi paused.
"However, for this premiere, I didn't invite any media."
"I invited all those notoriously sharp-tongued, picky critics from the industry, and a few 'black fan' representatives who write ten-thousand-word essays online criticizing you."
The old man leisurely tossed out his trap.
"Dare to come?"
Jiang Ci was quiet for a few seconds.
Then, he smiled.
The blood belonging to an "acting fanatic" grew hot.
"Director Zhang," he spoke, "If you're not afraid, what am I afraid of?"
On the other end of the phone, Zhang Mouyi gave a satisfied "Mhm" and hung up.
On the day of the New Year's Day premiere.
Top stylist Tony was once again invited by Lin Wan.
He dragged three large suitcases, prepared seven or eight sets of haute couture outfits,
ready to transform Jiang Ci into a banished immortal who had just weathered a tribulation and was returning to the altar.
In the end, Jiang Ci took out the simplest white shirt and a pair of jeans from his wardrobe.
"This will do."
Tony looked at that utterly ordinary white shirt, feeling his artistic sensibilities had been insulted.
"Jiang Ci! This is a premiere! It's your first public appearance after becoming the Golden Rooster Film Emperor!"
Jiang Ci put on the shirt, fastened the buttons.
"I know."
He looked at himself in the mirror, that face clean, fresh, stripped of all the heaviness of his roles,
looking exactly like a college boy.
This created an extreme contrast with the demonic, powerful, and tragic Ye Chen in the movie.
That was the contrast he wanted.
Tony ultimately compromised.
Because he discovered that when Jiang Ci wore that white shirt, the ornate clothing seemed superfluous and laughable.
That innate, bone-deep cleanliness was itself the most top-tier styling.
Screening Room No. 1 at the Capital Film Art Center.
There was none of the usual red carpet bustle of a premiere.
Everyone who could sit in these five hundred seats was famously "sharp-tongued and hard-hearted" within the circle.
Professional film critics, old pedants from film academies,
and a few "black fan leaders" who consistently gave Jiang Ci one-star ratings on Douban.
Zhang Mouyi was playing a big game this time.
He didn't invite those marketing accounts that only take red envelopes and write promotional articles; he invited this group of the hardest-to-please "kings of hell,"
just to see if this film could forcefully bend their pens.
When Jiang Ci entered the screening hall, it caused a slight stir.
Many people pushed their glasses up their noses,
their gazes lingering on his "Uniqlo street vendor style" outfit for two seconds before revealing mocking expressions.
"Started establishing a 'detached from fame and fortune' persona right after winning an award?"
"Trying too hard, seems contrived."
Jiang Ci took a seat in the very center of the first row.
Behind him was Old Zhou.
A famously "sharp-tongued" film critic within the circle.
Half a year ago, it was he who wrote a sprawling five-thousand-word article in his column,
severely criticizing Jiang Ci's performance in a certain idol drama, titled 'The Ten Sins of Jiang Ci's Wooden-Face Acting.'
That article is still pinned in the forum's highlights section, revered as scripture by countless black fans.
As soon as Jiang Ci sat down, Old Zhou leaned over.
His gaze swept over Jiang Ci twice.
"Film Emperor Jiang." Old Zhou gave a skin-deep smile, pulling at his facial muscles,
"Dressed like this, are you preparing to make a quick escape if the movie turns out too awful to watch later?"
An aggressive opening salvo.
Several critics nearby pricked up their ears, waiting to see how this newly crowned film emperor would respond.
Jiang Ci turned his head, looking at Old Zhou.
There was no trace of offended anger in those eyes, instead they held a kind of... compassion?
Old Zhou felt a chill from that look.
Jiang Ci didn't speak.
He reached into the pocket of his jeans, fumbled around for a bit.
Under Old Zhou's wary gaze, he pulled out an unopened pack of tissues.
Green packaging, the ubiquitous "Breeze" brand from convenience stores, two yuan a pack.
Jiang Ci slapped that pack of tissues onto the armrest between them with a *thwack*.
"Take it." Jiang Ci spoke, his tone flat.
Old Zhou was stunned for a moment, staring at the tissue pack, feeling it was an insulting weapon.
"What do you mean?" Old Zhou frowned, his tone unfriendly. "Bribing me? With a pack of tissues?"
"It's an investment."
Jiang Ci withdrew his hand, leaned back into the seat, adjusting to the most comfortable position.
He turned his face towards Old Zhou, who was full of astonishment.
"Currently, tissue packs on the market cost two yuan each."
"When the lights come on later."
Jiang Ci pointed to the large silver screen behind him,
then pointed at Old Zhou's eyes, "This thing in your hands could be hyped up to two hundred."
Old Zhou laughed in anger.
He'd been in this circle for twenty years, what kind of actor hadn't he seen?
Arrogant ones were common, but one as arrogantly fresh and refined, with a touch of charlatan flair,
Jiang Ci was the only one.
"Jiang Ci." Old Zhou closed his notebook, sneering,
"You think winning a Golden Rooster Award means everyone will fawn over you? This kind of tragic marketing tactic doesn't work on me."
After delivering his harsh words, Old Zhou directly pushed the tissue pack back.
The tissues slid to the edge of the armrest, teetering precariously.
Jiang Ci didn't reach for it, just shrugged.
"What a pity."
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