Chapter 414: Jiang Ci: Send the Contract!

Jiang Ci’s fingers were a bit stiff, trembling as he opened the WeChat video call.

“Beep… beep…”

Two seconds later, the screen lit up.

Chu Hong’s familiar face appeared in the frame.

She was wearing reading glasses, startled by the sudden video call, holding her phone a bit too close,

the camera aimed directly at her chin—a death angle shot.

“What’s the rush? It’s the crack of dawn.”

Chu Hong’s voice came through the receiver, full of energy.

In that moment, all the tension in Jiang Ci’s muscles melted away.

“Mom, are… are you okay?” Jiang Ci let out a breath, trying to find any sign of grievance on his mother’s face.

“What could happen to me?” Chu Hong moved the phone a little farther away, adjusting the angle.

The old living room, where he’d lived for over twenty years, appeared in the frame.

The dishcloth on the coffee table was folded neatly, the floor mopped to a shine, and even the leaves of the three-year-old Clivia plant had no dust on them.

Jiang Ci’s gaze wasn’t drawn to this cleanliness. Instead, relying on the “hawk-eye” he’d honed on set,

he instantly locked onto a book in the corner of the coffee table, partially hidden under a newspaper.

The gaudy red-and-green art on its cover was glaring—Spring Travel Guide for Seniors: All-Inclusive Tours.

And next to the book lay a ballpoint pen and a piece of draft paper covered in handwriting.

Jiang Ci narrowed his eyes.

Chu Hong followed her son’s gaze, her expression flickering. She casually picked up the remote control nearby,

and tossed it onto the coffee table as if by chance, perfectly covering the book’s title.

“Uh… Mom, what were you just doing?” Jiang Ci pretended not to have seen, keeping his tone casual.

“Huh? Nothing much. The neighborhood association is organizing some kind of square dance competition, so I was researching… researching the best venue to go to.”

Chu Hong’s gaze was a bit shifty; she didn’t even dare to look directly at the camera, instead looking down to pick at the hangnail on her fingernail.

A square dance competition required researching travel guides?

And taking notes?

Jiang Ci didn’t expose her, but that sour feeling in his heart called “guilt” began to bubble up little by little.

“Mom, um…” Jiang Ci paused, then tested the waters, “Has any stranger contacted you lately? Like an insurance salesman, or… someone making a film?”

Chu Hong’s fingers froze.

She looked up at Jiang Ci through the screen.

In her eyes, so similar to Jiang Ci’s, there was a flash of hesitation, and a hint of… longing.

“No… no one special.” Chu Hong stammered. “Just a young man surnamed Wu, very polite. He sent me some scenery photos and asked if I wanted to take a look.”

A young man surnamed Wu.

Wu Tong, you old bastard.

You’re over forty, what are you pretending to be a young man for?!

Jiang Ci paused, about to tell his mother to block that person, when Chu Hong suddenly asked a question that stunned him.

“Son.” Chu Hong’s voice lowered. “That show… is it really like what they show on TV? Do you have to eat raw meat? And sleep in a mud pit?”

Jiang Ci was taken aback. “What?”

“I read online that on those survival shows, you even have to eat bugs…” Chu Hong’s brow was furrowed, her face full of worry. “That little Wu did tell me it’s just traveling, eating and drinking well. But I figured, that’s all a lie, right? There’s no way they’d just give you money to go have fun.”

“He’s trying to trick you into going, then put you through the wringer, isn’t he?”

Jiang Ci looked at the screen.

His mother’s face was filled with conflict.

On one hand, there was the longing drawn from the Spring Travel Guide for Seniors; on the other, the fear that her son might “suffer.”

That old fox Wu Tong had really gone for the heart.

He’d given Chu Hong an incredibly beautiful vision, but hadn’t forced her, instead letting her waver between “wanting to go” and “fear of burdening her son.”

This was the source of the [Heartbreak Value].

Not the anger of being harassed, but the helplessness of wanting to reach out but pulling her hand back.

“Mom, that little Wu… what else did he say to you?” Jiang Ci’s voice was a bit hoarse.

“Nothing much.” Chu Hong waved her hand, forcing a light smile. “I was just looking. Mom knows you’re busy. We don’t do that kind of showy stuff. Besides, I’m an old bag of bones. Why would I go cause you trouble? I’m not going, absolutely not.”

As she spoke, she reached out to grab the travel guide, intending to throw it in the trash to prove her resolve.

“Mom.”

Jiang Ci suddenly called out.

Chu Hong stopped. “What’s up?”

Jiang Ci didn’t say a word.

His gaze lingered greedily on his mother’s face.

Her temples had more white hairs than before, traces of time that even hair dye couldn’t cover.

Since his father had passed, Chu Hong’s world had shrunk down to nothing but that residential compound and the son drifting outside.

And what about himself?

Under the guise of “protecting” her, he’d fenced her into a safe zone, cutting off the harm from the outside world, but also all the light and wind.

He thought he was being a filial son.

But in reality, he was just using another way to prolong his mother’s loneliness.

“Jiang Yanjun is already a hero. Our Old Jiang family doesn’t need a second hero hanging on the wall.”

His mother’s words were still echoing in his ears.

She didn’t need a dazzling, untouchable Film Emperor son.

She only needed a son who could have a meal with her, walk with her, and not let go of her hand, even in front of the camera.

Jiang Ci lowered his head, his nose feeling a bit sour.

Suddenly, he let out a laugh.

There was none of the slickness he showed to the media, none of the coldness he used on Wu Tong.

Only a kind of youthful roguishness remained.

“Mom, are you stupid or what?”

Chu Hong was stunned, her eyes glaring. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“That guy surnamed Wu is a sucker.” Jiang Ci leaned back on the headboard, shifted into a comfortable position, and started spouting nonsense with a straight face. “His show has way too much funding and no one to help him spend it.”

“That stuff about eating raw meat and sleeping in mud pits is just because times have been tough and the crews were broke. His is different. It’s an S-Class project. You’re going to be treated like… like the Empress Dowager.”

“Really?” Chu Hong was half-convinced. “You’re not lying to me?”

“Why would I lie to you?” Jiang Ci’s lips curled up. “Five-star hotels the whole way, chauffeured cars for transport.”

“And most importantly…”

Jiang Ci looked his mother in the eyes and said, word by word, “I want to go too.”

Chu Hong was stunned.

“I’ve been filming non-stop these past few years, either playing a corpse or a psycho. I’m tired too.”

Jiang Ci rubbed his temples, putting on an exhausted look. “Mom, just think of it as keeping me company to blow off some steam. It’s a free vacation. If we don’t take it, we’re the ones losing out.”

Chu Hong fell silent.

She looked at her son’s slightly pale face and the dark circles under his eyes on the screen.

For a long moment.

She picked up the Travel Guide she’d tossed aside, gently stroking the cover with her fingers.

The light in her eyes slowly began to brighten.

“Well then…” Chu Hong rubbed her hands together a bit awkwardly. “What about the flowers at home? Who’s going to water them? And those two pots of scallions Old Li sent over…”

“Give them to that girl Li Li to water.” Jiang Ci said decisively. “If they die, it’s on me.”

Chu Hong muttered about it being a waste, but the corners of her mouth were already stretched to her ears.

It was obvious her mind had already flown far, far away.

When the video call ended, Jiang Ci clearly saw

that his mother’s steps as she got up and walked to the bedroom were lighter than usual.

The phone screen went black.

Jiang Ci held that pose, sitting on the bed for a full minute.

Then, he let out a long breath.

If he couldn’t even manage to let his own mother go on a happy trip in front of the camera now, then he might as well not be the Film Emperor.

He picked up his phone and opened the WeChat blacklist.

His finger hovered for a second over the avatar labeled [Wu the Old Dog].

Clicked.

Removed from blacklist.

He pressed the voice message button and sent a message directly:

“Send the contract.”