Chapter 424: Nationwide Ridicule of Cold Premiere, The Unsung Heroes Arrive!
May 1st. An international cinema in the capital.
At the entrance of Hall One, the red carpet stretched out for hundreds of meters, and floral baskets were stacked into walls. The publicity team of Laughing All the Way had hired dozens of security guards, barely managing to hold back the screaming, frenzied fans.
In contrast, Hall Four, located at the end of the corridor, was far quieter.
Only a lone poster stood there.
The poster was in black and white. Jiang Ci’s mud-stained face occupied half the frame.
A streamer with a selfie stick walked by. Her camera swept across the Icebreaker standee. She curled her lip.
“Who watches a depressing movie like this on a holiday? Next door, tickets for Mecha Frenzy 4 are selling like crazy. Over here, there’s not a single soul.”
The live stream’s bullet comments echoed the sentiment.
【Seriously, Jiang Ci’s transformation this time is too big a step. He’s going to pull something.】
【I heard the screening slot share is only 15%? It’ll probably be pulled from theaters after three days.】
Just then, the sound of synchronized footsteps broke the silence in the corner.
Everyone’s gaze instinctively turned.
Jiang Ci wore a well-tailored black formal suit, his white shirt buttoned all the way to the top.
The most striking detail was a small white flower pinned to his left breast pocket.
In an entertainment industry obsessed with “good luck omens,” this outfit was practically an open provocation, a challenge to everyone’s nerves.
But the people beside him were even more impossible to ignore.
Chu Hong wore a dark blue, old-style suit jacket.
It was a style popular twenty years ago. The cuffs were slightly frayed, and one could even vaguely see signs of mending.
It was a police wife’s visitation uniform.
On her left chest was pinned a slightly faded Party emblem.
Mother and son walked arm-in-arm, their backs as straight as poles.
The chattering streamer instinctively shrunk back.
Presence is something invisible and intangible, but at this moment, that middle-aged woman in old clothes effortlessly overshadowed the glamorous young stars in their backless evening gowns, making them look dull by comparison.
“Teacher Jiang! Teacher Jiang, look over here!”
A crowd of entertainment reporters swarmed in.
Professional cameras of all sizes were nearly shoved into Jiang Ci’s face.
A male reporter with gold-rimmed glasses squeezed to the front.
A professional, fake smile was plastered on his face.
But the question he asked carried hidden knives.
“Teacher Jiang, currently Icebreaker has only a 15% screening share, and the premiere is so cold. Do you regret taking on this heavy, themed film?”
This question was extremely sharp.
If he said yes, it would be a slap in the face to the film crew.
If he said no, it would sound like he was being stubborn.
The shutter sounds filled the air around them. Everyone was waiting to see this top star make a fool of himself.
Jiang Ci stopped walking.
He tilted his head slightly, glanced at the noisy Laughing All the Way press conference next door, and then looked back at the black-and-white poster behind him.
He raised a hand and adjusted the emblem on Chu Hong’s lapel.
“Some movies are for the box office, for winning awards, to make people laugh.”
Jiang Ci’s voice was calm, impossible to read for emotion. “But some movies are for making sure people don’t forget certain people.”
He took off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of red, exhausted eyes, and looked directly into the reporter’s camera.
“How many screening slots there are, how high or low the box office is, it doesn’t affect the weight of the martyrs.”
“As for being cold…” Jiang Ci smiled slightly. “They’re used to it.”
The reporter’s smile froze on his face.
The microphone was held in mid-air, neither able to lower it nor put it away.
The crowd around them, who had been ready to watch a joke, suddenly felt a strange chill creeping up their spines.
Just then, the producer, Old Zhang, came running out, drenched in sweat.
“Move aside! Everyone move aside!”
Behind Old Zhang followed a group of people.
There were about twenty of them, all with buzz cuts. Their skin was dark and rough, and they wore ill-fitting casual jackets.
Some had empty sleeves. Others walked with a slight limp.
They walked forward in silence, their gazes resolute.
The streamers and paparazzi substitutes who had been blocking the middle of the path instinctively cleared a passageway when those eyes swept over them.
“Who are they?” someone muttered. “Looks like they’re here to start trouble?”
No one answered.
Jiang Ci turned around and bowed deeply to this group of people.
Chu Hong looked at these men, not much older than her own son yet full of a weathered toughness, and her eyes reddened.
She recognized that aura. It was the murderous intent of men who had long lived on a knife’s edge, risking their necks every single day.
The leading middle-aged man had a burn scar that ran across half his face.
He walked up to Jiang Ci, extended his large, calloused hand, and heavily patted Jiang Ci on the shoulder.
Then, the group filed in one by one, entering the cold, empty Hall Four.
They didn’t have tickets.
Those were “family seats” that Old Zhang had shamelessly wrangled out of the cinema chain.
Inside the theater, the lights were dim.
The group of retired veterans and front-line police officers sat in the very last row. Their backs were straight, their hands resting on their knees.
In the front rows sat a scattering of hardcore fans and film critics who had been given free tickets.
“This atmosphere is too weird.”
A little fan holding popcorn whispered to her companion. “I don’t even dare to eat anymore.”
Backstage.
Director Jiang Wen, known for his explosive temper, was tremblingly smoking a cigarette.
“Old Jiang, don’t chicken out now,” screenwriter Yan Zheng said with a bitter smile beside him.
“You don’t understand.” Jiang Wen viciously stubbed out his cigarette. “If those film critics call my movie trash, I’d dare to slap them across the face.”
“But those people sitting in the back… if even one of them says it’s ‘fake,’ I won’t be able to hold my head up for the rest of my life.”
Zzzt—
The lights in the theater went completely dark.
The dragon logo appeared.
A line of white text on a black background silently floated onto the center of the big screen.
[This film is based on real cases. It is dedicated to the unsung heroes fighting on the front lines of the anti-drug campaign.]
At the same time, a low, oppressive heartbeat sound, amplified by the top-tier Dolby sound system, slammed against the chest of every audience member, beat after beat.
The picture cut in.
Rainstorm.
In a muddy pothole, a hand pale and drained of all blood reached out, clutching tightly at the weeds on the edge.
Black mud filled the fingernail crevices. The veins on the back of the hand bulged.
The camera pulled back.
Jiang He, played by Jiang Ci, crawled out of the mud, inch by inch.
His whole body was in spasm—the physical convulsions of a drug craving hitting him.
He opened his mouth wide, trying to roar, but no sound came out.
The extreme agony twisted his entire face into a grotesque shape.
“Gag—!”
A realistic sound of retching came from the speakers.
Jiang He shoved his fingers down his throat, frantically forcing himself to vomit. He was trying to throw up the blood wine he had just been forced to drink, along with his own internal organs.
In the front row, the little fan who had come to see her “gege’s gorgeous looks” dropped her popcorn bucket.
Thump.
It hit the floor.
She was terrified.
This was nothing like the delicate idol she knew.
This was clearly a demon writhing in hell.
For the entire two-minute long take, there was only the sound of rain, the sound of vomiting, and the sound of heavy, ragged breaths.
In the very last row.
The man with the burn scar on his face suddenly clenched his hand resting on his knee.
His rough palm rubbed forcefully against the velvet fabric of the armrest.
He recognized this scene.
Back in the day, his captain had endured a night just like this, in that same muddy mire.
Back then, his captain had been this age too.