Chapter 402: Devouring the Script, Acting Gone Wild!
When Jiang Ci uttered the four words, “Eat it,”
“Action!”
Gu Zhiyuan sprang up from his folding stool, his voice hoarse:
“Act it how you want! Cinematographer, get in close on his face!”
Before the lens.
Jiang Ci stood alone by the roadside.
That crumpled schedule in his hand had been clenched into a ball of waste paper.
The words “Male Lead: Chen San” printed on it were now blurred by sweat and mud.
That was his life.
Now, his life had been thrown away like trash.
Jiang Ci lowered his head, looking at the paper ball in his hand.
Without any warning.
He raised his hand and violently stuffed that ball of paper into his mouth.
“Mmph…”
Jiang Ci didn’t spit it out.
His cheeks bulged, his masseter muscles contracting frantically.
Harder.
Harder still.
“Crunch, crunch.”
This was the sound of paper being torn apart by teeth,
In the terrifyingly quiet film set, it was so clear it made one’s scalp tingle.
That wasn’t just eating paper.
That was swallowing the dignity that had been trampled into the mud, that was devouring Chen San’s shattered Film Emperor dream.
The paper ball was too hard, too dry.
Jiang Ci choked, his eyes rolling back.
But he kept chewing.
Behind the monitor.
Song Mei instinctively covered her chest, her breathing rapid.
She had acted all her life, seen those who wailed to the heavens, seen the hysterical.
But she had never seen this kind—
This despair of forcibly swallowing the “corpse of a dream.”
It hurt too much.
Just watching it hurt.
Jiang Ci’s gaze was unfocused.
But he was still mechanically swallowing.
His Adam’s apple bobbed with difficulty, once, then again.
Until the last mouthful of pulp was swallowed.
He swayed, leaning against the roadside utility pole.
But suddenly, he smiled.
His mouth was full of white paper scraps.
That smile was a middle finger to this goddamn world.
“Cut—!!!”
Gu Zhiyuan’s shout cracked.
Jiang Ci bent over, letting out a violent retch.
“Urgh—”
This sound broke the silence of the film set.
“Water! Get water!” Lin Wan was the first to rush forward.
Jiang Ci waved his hand, pushing away the offered mineral water bottle.
He walked to the trash can in the corner and spat out the remaining pulp in his mouth.
“Pah.”
Jiang Ci straightened up, took the wet towel handed by the set assistant, and roughly wiped his face.
The life-and-death despair from moments ago had vanished without a trace.
“Who printed this schedule?”
Jiang Ci rinsed his mouth while mumbling a complaint:
“Can’t you switch to rice paper? This A4 paper has terrible mouthfeel, and it tastes like printer ink, zero stars.”
The surrounding crew members who were just about to be moved to tears: ”…”
Give us back our tears, you jerk!
Gu Zhiyuan walked over.
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, and offered it to Jiang Ci.
Jiang Ci didn’t smoke, but he took it, holding it between his fingers.
“Jiang Ci.”
Gu Zhiyuan’s voice trembled, his eyes rimmed red: “At that moment just now, you were more Chen San than Chen San himself.”
“I think Chen San really died.”
“Died?”
Jiang Ci looked down at the cigarette between his fingers.
He suddenly snapped the cigarette in two.
A crisp snap.
“He won’t die.”
Jiang Ci raised his head. In those eyes, where was the slightest trace of the earlier turbidity and despair?
They were crystal clear.
“A shattered dream can be pieced back together.”
Jiang Ci threw the broken cigarette into the trash can and patted Gu Zhiyuan’s shoulder:
“Dignity, you swallow it to digest it.”
“Once it’s digested, it’s time for us to fight back.”
…
Three days later.
Urban village, tube-shaped apartment building.
This scene was the turning point of King of Extras.
It was also the beginning of Chen San’s rebound from rock bottom.
Filming began.
Inside the rented room, the light was dim.
Jiang Ci squatted on the floor, packing his belongings.
That red plastic bucket he once treasured was stuffed with miscellaneous items.
A few ragged clothes, a pair of cloth shoes with worn-out soles.
And that tattered copy of Actor’s Self-cultivation.
Jiang Ci picked up that book.
His fingers lingered on the cover for a long time.
Finally, as if making some decision, he pulled open a drawer and threw the book inside.
Click.
Locked.
“You’re just leaving like this?”
A cold female voice came from the doorway.
Chen Yi leaned against the doorframe.
She wore a cheap sequined dress, her makeup slightly smudged,
Clearly having just gotten off work from the nightclub.
She was Liu Piaopiao.
Jiang Ci didn’t turn around.
He continued stuffing things into the woven plastic bag, his movements efficient.
“What else should I do?”
Jiang Ci’s voice was muffled, “Three months behind on rent, the landlord is about to chase me out with a broom.”
“Besides, the factory is hiring. Three thousand a month, room and board included. Isn’t that better than playing a corpse?”
“Better my ass.”
Chen Yi walked in.
Her high heels clicked on the cement floor.
She snatched the woven bag from Jiang Ci’s hands and threw it fiercely to the ground.
The clothes inside scattered everywhere.
Jiang Ci finally looked up.
He looked at Chen Yi, his eyes hollow: “Piaopiao, stop messing around.”
“I’m tired.”
“I’m just a cannon fodder extra. All that Film Emperor dream, that Best Actor nonsense, it’s all bullshit.”
“A man has to accept his fate.”
“Accept your fate?”
Chen Yi let out a cold laugh.
She suddenly raised her hand.
Slap!
This slap landed solidly on Jiang Ci’s face.
Even though it was a staged hit, the force and the gust of wind it carried
Made Jiang Ci’s cheek tremble.
Jiang Ci’s head was knocked to the side.
He was stunned.
He never expected that Liu Piaopiao, who usually would just hide and cry when wronged,
Would lay a hand on him.
“Chen San, look at me!”
Chen Yi grabbed Jiang Ci’s collar, forcing him to look directly at her.
“Didn’t you say the play is greater than heaven?!”
Chen Yi’s voice trembled, choked with sobs, each word sharp as a knife:
“Where’s that drive you had when teaching us to act? Where’s that bravado of shouting you’d support me in the pouring rain?”
“What, just because someone stole your role, you think you’re garbage?”
“The sky falls and you’re scared?”
Jiang Ci was forced to look at her.
At the tears in her eyes, at her face made up with heavy makeup for survival.
“I…”
Jiang Ci opened his mouth, his voice hoarse.
Slap!
A piece of paper was slapped against Jiang Ci’s chest.
Not a schedule.
It was a gaudy, even somewhat tackily designed flyer.
—【The Capital’s First Avant-garde Drama Competition Entry Form】.
“That run-down theater in the west side of the city is holding a competition.”
Chen Yi released her grip, wiped the tears from her face,
Her tone returning to that stubborn, stiff hardness:
“First prize is twenty thousand in prize money, and a direct entry to the newcomer showcase at the film festival.”
Jiang Ci held that flyer.
A flicker in his eyes.
“The girls and I scraped together some money, rented out the backstage of that theater.”
Chen Yi sniffled, staring at Jiang Ci:
“Chen San, I’ll ask you one thing.”
Chen Yi took a step forward, that wild grass-like tenacity of hers,
Pressing down, suffocating:
“Do you dare to go?”
The film set was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
The two looked at each other.
Jiang Ci lowered his head, looking at the simple entry form in his hand.
Twenty thousand yuan prize money.
Newcomer showcase.
In the eyes of that Lu Ming, it probably wasn’t even enough for a single meal.
But in Chen San’s eyes, it was a lifeline.
Slowly.
Jiang Ci’s fingers tightened, crumpling the paper.
He raised his head.
Looking at Chen Yi, at this woman willing to go all-in for his dream.
Jiang Ci suddenly smiled.
This smile was no longer the desperate madness from before.
It was a long-lost audacity.
He reached out and pulled open that drawer again.
Took out that copy of Actor’s Self-cultivation.
“Piaopiao.”
Jiang Ci patted the dust off the book, his tone light:
“When we get that twenty thousand prize money, give me half.”
“I’m going to buy a decent suit.”
Chen Yi looked at him, her tears finally unable to hold back, streaming down her face.
She cursed: “Psycho.”
“Cut! Perfect! That’s a wrap!”
Gu Zhiyuan was so excited he threw the script in his hand into the air.
“Excellent! This is a true comeback! This is King of Extras!”
Jiang Ci stepped out of character, rubbing his neck, which was red from being grabbed.
“Ouch, Teacher Chen, you’ve got quite the grip, almost choked the life out of me.”
Chen Yi glared at him: “Serves you right.”
Lin Wan stood to the side, watching the two of them and smiling.
She knew the most oppressive part of this film was over.
Next.
It was time for those who looked down on Chen San to pay the price.