Chapter 391: The Entire Internet Begs for a Happy Ending — The Best Actor Gets a “Blade-in-the-Mail” Warning!
The sixth day of the first lunar month, an auspicious day for travel, for leaving home, for… carrying heavy burdens forward.
Jiang Ci stood downstairs in his old home, looking at the trunk of the black business van in front of him, his eyelids twitching violently.
“Mom, I’m going back to the capital, not going on a pioneering expedition.”
He tried to hold down the burlap sack that Chu Hong was forcefully stuffing into the car. “They have flour in supermarkets.”
“Can you eat that stuff from supermarkets?” Chu Hong didn’t even look up, her right knee pressing against the sack’s opening. “That’s animal feed. This bag was ground by your grandmother herself, no additives, good texture.”
Jiang Ci was speechless with a bitter smile. “And these two big bundles of scallions? Did scallions in the capital become illegal or mutate?”
“The scallions in the capital don’t taste like scallions, it’s like eating grass.”
Chu Hong straightened her back, patted the dust off her hands. “The pickled cabbage is at the very bottom, don’t let heavy things crush the jar…”
“Mom, the tires are almost flat,” Jiang Ci said helplessly, pointing at the noticeably sagging car body.
The driver sent by Lin Wan stood to the side,
still holding two bags of air-dried sausages,
looking utterly bewildered, unsure whether to step forward or retreat.
He had chauffeured many celebrities, and the trunks he’d seen were mostly filled with brand-name bags, custom-tailored suits, or various luxury gift boxes.
This kind was a first in his life.
“Won’t go flat, this car is sturdy.”
Chu Hong simply didn’t listen to suggestions, turning around to pull out a foam box from the shadows of the stairwell.
“This is frozen seafood from your neighbor Old Li, fresh.”
Jiang Ci finally gave up resisting.
This kind of maternal love was unreasonable and packed a serious physical punch.
Just then, Chu Hong stopped moving.
She pulled out a somewhat old blue thermal food jar.
And stuffed it into Jiang Ci’s arms.
“Leftovers from last night.”
Chu Hong turned around, continuing to organize the pile of messy bags, her voice sounding a bit muffled.
“Originally made extra to let that dead man taste some. You take it to eat on the road, while it’s hot.”
Jiang Ci hugged the heavy thermal jar.
After that late-night mother-son talk, that hero who always hung on the wall,
seemed to have truly regained warmth during this Spring Festival, within these steaming hot dumplings.
“Ci-ge! Wait a moment!”
A desperate shout came from the stairwell.
Jiang Ci turned his head to see Li Li, with two dark circles under her eyes, floating over like a ghost.
She held a crumpled piece of paper in her hand.
“You didn’t sleep last night?” Jiang Ci was startled by her appearance.
“Sleep? I close my eyes and see you dancing in the rain, open them and see you getting red wine splashed in your face.”
As she spoke, Li Li forcefully slapped the paper in her hand against Jiang Ci’s chest, saying through gritted teeth, “This is the final ultimatum from us, representing the entire internet audience, to you.”
Jiang Ci looked down to see four large characters prominently written on the paper: [PETITION].
Below was row after row of densely packed signatures, even many internet usernames.
“Jiang Ci, if you play another character like Shen Qingyuan in your next project, fans across the entire internet are going to crowdfund sending you razor blades.”
Li Li glared at him while sniffling.
The corner of Jiang Ci’s mouth twitched.
This was indeed his fault.
Back then, to trick these people into the movie theater, the Publicity Team had used the banner of “warm and healing.”
The result was that the entire nation’s audience went in happily and came out crying like dogs.
“Well… that was also for art,” Jiang Ci attempted to explain.
Li Li didn’t respond, turning and quickly running back into the stairwell.
Jiang Ci watched her retreating figure, then looked at the petition in his hand, and rubbed his nose.
It seemed the aftereffects of ‘The Lurker’ were bigger than he had anticipated.
This transition from being adored by the entire internet to being “wanted” by the entire internet, while somewhat dramatic,
was indeed the highest form of praise for an actor.
“Alright, stop looking.” Chu Hong patted Jiang Ci’s shoulder,
casually pressing his baseball cap down lower,
shielding that face of his capable of breaking the entire internet’s heart.
“It’s a long road, leave early.”
Jiang Ci nodded and got into the passenger seat.
The moment the car door closed, he rolled down the window, looking at his mother standing by the roadside.
Chu Hong wore that navy blue wool coat, standing amidst the scattered firecracker debris on the ground, her figure slender yet upright.
“Mom, I’m leaving.”
Chu Hong waved her hand. “Go on, go on. Saves me from having you loiter in front of me every day, having to cook for you.”
The wheels began to turn slowly.
Jiang Ci turned his head, looking back through the rearview mirror.
He had thought Chu Hong would, like in the movies, turn and walk into the stairwell, leaving him with a cool, aloof back.
But the reality was, that petite woman just stood there.
As the distance grew, her figure became smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
But no matter how far the car drove, that dot remained completely still, her gaze locked onto this black business van.
[Ding!]
In his mind, the system’s electronic synthesized voice abruptly sounded.
[Detecting extreme emotional fluctuation.]
[Source: Chu Hong.]
[Heartbreak Value: +388!]
A sour feeling rushed up his nasal passages.
388 points.
This wasn’t just the reluctance of parting.
Within this number hid a wife’s longing for her deceased husband, a mother’s worry for her son stepping into danger.
Jiang Ci leaned his head against the seatback and closed his eyes.
“Driver, drive faster.”
He said softly.
He was afraid that if he kept watching, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from jumping out of the car and moving all that local produce back inside.
The car entered the highway, the scenery outside the window began to fly past in reverse.
Jiang Ci opened his eyes and took out the thermal jar from his embrace.
Opening the lid, the scent of pork and scallion filled the entire car compartment.
The dumplings were still warm, the dough skin a bit thick, carrying the chewiness of homemade hand-rolled dough.
He picked one up and stuffed it into his mouth. Chewing and chewing, his eyes reddened.
The driver beside him secretly glanced in the rearview mirror, thinking to himself:
This Film Emperor is truly professional. Even eating dumplings he can act like it’s the Last Supper. Really too immersed in the role.
Jiang Ci ignored the driver’s gaze. He pulled out his phone and swiped open Weibo.
The trending chart was still a tragic sea of red.
Jiang Ci turned off his phone, his gaze shifting forward.
At the end of the highway was the capital.
There, Lin Wan was waiting for him with piles of contracts stacked like mountains.
The post-production for ‘Icebreaker’ was also nearing its end.
That even more hardcore, even more brutal story was about to be released.
Jiang Ci stretched his somewhat stiff neck.
He looked at that pale, melancholic face in the mirror,
his eyes gleaming with a certain restless, goofy light.
“This generation of audiences is still too young.”
Since everyone thinks he’s an “Unresolved Injustice manufacturing machine,”
that the base color of his life is melancholy.
Then…
It was time to give this overly oppressive world a little bit of a “goofy shock.”
The car’s front pointed towards the capital, the engine roaring.
“Driver, is there anywhere selling cola by the roadside? I want to wash down the saltiness of these dumplings.”
Jiang Ci rubbed his stomach, his tone reverting to that half-dead, lazy drawl.
The driver was stunned. That melancholic Film Emperor aura from moments ago had vanished without a trace,
so fast he thought he had hallucinated it earlier.
As expected.
Film Emperors, always so dramatic.