Chapter 393: The Movie King's Self-Destruction Plan
The lingering scent of pork and scallions hadn’t even fully dissipated yet,
Gu Zhiyuan had already wiped the oil from the corner of his mouth, reclaiming the director’s authority.
“All departments, positions!”
Gu Zhiyuan raised the megaphone, “Scene 42, take one! Chen San is humiliated, Action!”
Jiang Ci, wearing that ill-fitting, cheap suit, stood on the cement floor.
To fit the character, he had deliberately not washed his face, and the oily sheen from eating dumplings was still smeared around his mouth.
His eyes darted around.
This was Chen San, a cannon fodder extra who would call someone ‘dad’ for five hundred bucks.
The camera pushed in.
The actor playing the film crew set assistant was a burly man with a face full of brute flesh.
According to the script, he had to slam a boxed lunch down in front of Chen San.
“Smack!”
The plastic lunch box hit the ground, braised pork and sauce splattering everywhere, white rice rolling into the dust.
“Eat! Didn’t you want to act? Eat this and I’ll let you act!” the big man snarled viciously.
Jiang Ci stared at the food on the ground.
He moved.
He wanted to portray Chen San’s wretchedness and his desperate craving for food.
He bent over, knees slightly bent, reaching out to grab that piece of meat covered in dust.
The setting sun happened to shine through the dilapidated factory window, hitting the side of his face.
The outstretched fingers, within the light and shadow, carried a poignant, tragic beauty.
Where was this Chen San?
This was clearly a noble young master fallen from grace, suffering a humiliating insult,
silently swearing in his heart, “Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river.”
“Cut!”
Gu Zhiyuan clutched his hair in agony, calling for a stop.
He stared at the footage on the monitor for a long moment before finally squeezing out, “Jiang… Teacher Jiang.”
Jiang Ci straightened up, “What’s wrong? Not wretched enough?”
“It’s not that it’s not wretched enough.” Gu Zhiyuan looked like he was about to cry, “It’s too… too beautiful.
That look in your eyes just now, that’s not a cannon fodder extra, that’s Gou Jian enduring hardships to nurse vengeance!”
The surrounding crew members couldn’t help but whisper among themselves.
“Yeah, it broke my heart just watching.”
“Is this the aura of a Film Emperor? Even picking up trash looks like picking up pearls.”
Jiang Ci, ”…”
He had been careless.
“Again.” Jiang Ci gritted his teeth.
The second time, NG.
The third time, NG.
No matter how much he hunched his back, how much he grimaced and squinted,
that innate sense of cool, aloof elegance just couldn’t be suppressed.
The atmosphere on the film set grew increasingly tense.
“Tch.”
Jiang Ci watched the playback, irritably tugging at his tie.
This wouldn’t do.
He had to do something drastic, physically strip away the charm.
He took off that suit jacket and casually tossed it to a nearby set assistant.
Rolling up his sleeves, he strode directly towards the set assistant team currently moving camera tracks.
That was the heaviest work in the entire crew.
Hundreds of pounds of iron tracks and weight boxes, requiring four or five burly men to huff and puff as they lifted them.
“Teacher Jiang? What are you doing?”
The set assistant worker about to lift a box was startled, almost dropping it from his hands.
“Move aside.”
Jiang Ci pushed him aside without a word, bent down, settled his shoulders, and exerted force.
“Up!”
The hundred-plus pound weight box was lifted by him through sheer brute force.
The veins on his neck bulged, his originally fair face flushed red with blood.
“Teacher Jiang!!” The set assistant’s voice trembled with fright, “How can you do this!”
Jiang Ci gritted his teeth, carrying the box forward, “Don’t anyone interfere with me!”
Lin Wan reached out to stop the crowd wanting to rush forward to help.
She looked at Jiang Ci, her eyes flashing, “Let him do it. He’s searching for the feeling.”
One box, two boxes.
Jiang Ci worked tirelessly, frantically moving things around the set.
His original hairstyle was long since a mess, his expensive shirt soaked through with sweat.
Half an hour later.
Jiang Ci sat on the ground.
Exhausted.
But he felt it still wasn’t enough.
His eyes were still too bright.
Chen San’s eyes should be murky, the dead-fish eyes of someone life has beaten down eight hundred times over.
Jiang Ci’s gaze swept around and landed on the few special extras squatting in the corner smoking—precisely those thugs he had subdued in the alleyway before.
He got up, dragging his leaden legs over.
“Yo, Ci-ge…” The yellow-haired guy was so scared he dropped his cigarette.
“Got a smoke?” Jiang Ci plopped down on the curb beside them, legs splayed out with zero regard for image.
“Yeah… yeah.” The yellow-haired guy tremblingly handed over a crumpled Hongtashan cigarette.
Jiang Ci didn’t light it, just held it between his lips.
He squinted, looking at the sky through non-existent smoke.
Then, he started to learn.
He learned the yellow-haired guy’s leg-shaking frequency, learned that fat guy’s sniffling sound, learned their sleazy way of always looking at people from the waist down.
Ten minutes later.
Jiang Ci learned how to scrunch up his entire face in two seconds, revealing a smile that was both ingratiating and cunning.
“Director Gu.”
Jiang Ci spat out the cigarette butt from his mouth and pulled the dirty suit back on.
Now, his hair was plastered to his scalp in strands, his shoulders unconsciously slumped.
He looked towards the camera.
In those eyes that once shattered the hearts of the entire internet, only the whites were slightly visible, exuding an oily, listless vibe of just waiting to die.
Gu Zhiyuan swallowed hard, feeling a chill run down his spine.
Where was this still Jiang Ci?
This was clearly Chen San, just back from the labor market without managing to snag a job!
“Action!”
Once more.
The brute-faced big man knocked over the boxed lunch.
“Smack!”
Braised pork rolled into the dirt.
Jiang Ci didn’t hesitate at all.
Like a wild dog protecting its food, he pounced.
Kneeling on the ground, he used his filthy sleeve to hastily wipe the dust off the meat, then shoved it directly into his mouth.
“Hehe…”
Jiang Ci chewed the sand-covered meat while looking up at the big man with a foolish grin.
His mouth was covered in oil, bits of vegetable stuck to his teeth.
The smile was full of fawning, “Bro, this meat’s fatty, real tasty. If you’re not eating… then I’ll eat it, okay?”
In front of the monitor, there was utter silence.
Gu Zhiyuan felt goosebumps rise all over his body.
This wasn’t comedy.
This was skinning and deboning a person’s dignity, laying it out before you, raw and bloody.
Compared to the grand sacrifice of a character like Shen Qingyuan, this kind of humble smile from a nobody just trying to survive felt even more like a fishbone stuck in the throat.
[Ding!]
[Detecting intense emotional fluctuations!]
[Heartbreak Value +99!]
[Heartbreak Value +128!]
Jiang Ci, who was frantically shoving rice into his mouth, paused.
”?”
He almost choked to death on a mouthful of rice.
No way, I’ve gone this far, I’ve gotten this sleazy, shouldn’t you all be feeling disgusted or find it funny?
“Pass!”
Gu Zhiyuan’s voice came through.
Jiang Ci got up from the ground, patting the dirt off his backside.
He originally thought he had successfully created a “comedic effect” and was ready to proudly receive everyone’s roaring laughter.
He looked up.
He saw several dozen grown men staring at him.
Even those thug extras were wiping tears, and that yellow-haired guy rushed forward,
shoving the remaining half-pack of cigarettes into Jiang Ci’s hand.
Jiang Ci clutched a crumpled pack of Hongtashan, utterly bewildered.
I was acting in a comedy, dammit!
In the shadows not far away.
Lin Wan looked at the man with an oily mouth and a confused face, and smiled.
She turned and whispered to the cameraman,
“Keep this behind-the-scenes footage, no need to edit it.”
“I’ve even thought of the title—‘The Film Emperor’s Self-Shattering Plan’.”
Jiang Ci was still trying to explain, “Uh, actually, that meat just now was pretty tasty, just a bit gritty…”
No one was listening to him.
This world misunderstood him far too deeply.