The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 180: Shadow — This Is the True Core of the Tragedy

Jiang Ci's hand holding the marker pen paused in mid-air for a second.

Why was he fixated on tragedy?

Because he would die if he didn't perform tragedy.

That fatal answer, of course, couldn't be spoken.

A sense of crisis born from survival instinct made every cell in his body tense up instantly.

He had to give a perfect, irrefutable answer.

He slowly put down the pen, raised his head, and met Su Qingying's probing gaze.

"Because happiness is monotonous, and fleeting pleasures are transient. But pain is different; every heartbreak has its own unique texture and shape."

His words were clear, steady, devoid of any personal emotion.

"People quickly forget a hundred reasons to laugh, but they will forever remember the one taste that makes the heart stop."

"This taste is worth savoring repeatedly, worth being remembered forever. It is more valuable than happiness."

After saying all this, he almost believed it himself.

This rhetoric lifted from acting theory textbooks, polished with his own experience of prolonging life, seemed exceptionally sincere and profound.

Su Qingying listened quietly to the end and did not press further.

She nodded gently, seemingly accepting this explanation.

But Jiang Ci could sense that probing intent had not disappeared; it had merely been temporarily set aside by her.

"I understand."

Su Qingying spoke, breaking the brief silence.

Then, she made a move that took Jiang Ci by surprise.

She did not touch the script on the table.

Nor did she continue discussing the character.

She took a step back, standing in the open space in the center of the study.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling window, casting a bright halo upon her.

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again.

She had completely changed.

The calm, professional Best Actress from before had vanished.

A young girl consumed by immense pain and guilt appeared before Jiang Ci.

She looked at the empty space before her, as if a lover she had personally hurt, covered in wounds, was lying there.

Her body trembled, not the exaggerated, dramatic kind of shaking.

But a kind of spasm that seeped from the marrow of her bones, uncontrollable.

Tears welled up without warning, sliding down her smooth cheeks and falling onto the floor, soundless.

"Ye Chen..."

What escaped her was a broken sob.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..."

From a technical standpoint, her performance was perfect.

Every detail, every pause in breathing, accurately conveyed the heartbreak and despair of "A Li" facing the severely injured Ye Chen beneath the giant tree in the script.

This was textbook-level acting skill.

However, Jiang Ci did not offer any evaluation.

He calmly walked over to that huge sheet of white paper and picked up the marker pen again.

"Tap."

The pen tip lightly touched the paper.

That faint sound abruptly halted Su Qingying's performance.

She withdrew from that extreme emotional state and looked at Jiang Ci.

Jiang Ci's pen tip was pointing at two words directly below the timeline belonging to "A Li."

"Companionship."

He said nothing.

But his meaning was instantly understood by Su Qingying.

Her performance had acted out pain, acted out guilt, acted out heartbreak.

But she had not acted out these two words.

She had not acted out that warm and resilient companionship that had seeped into the bones, bit by bit, during three years of day and night together.

Though tragic, it lacked the most fundamental foundation.

Su Qingying's body stiffened slightly.

She closed her eyes again.

The study fell into a long silence.

Jiang Ci was very patient. He knew the real "clinical trial" had only just begun.

When Su Qingying opened her eyes again.

That was not A Li.

That was Ling Xi.

The legendary witch from a thousand years ago, who loved fiercely and hated decisively.

Her posture changed, her back straightening with an innate arrogance.

She looked in the same direction, but the emotion was completely different.

No longer guilt and pity.

But a kind of intense, suffocating love mixed with hatred, regret, and possessiveness.

"If you cannot belong only to me."

"Then stay here forever, accompany this tree, accompany me."

Every word she spoke carried a bone-chilling coldness and a scorching decisiveness.

The impact was far greater than A Li's crying just now.

This Best Actress was indeed professional.

Jiang Ci gave his evaluation in his heart.

Then, once again, he took the same cold, ruthless action.

He still showed no reaction.

He simply picked up the pen and slowly drew a clear, suspended dotted line on that huge sheet of white paper, between the endpoint of the timeline representing "Ling Xi" and the starting point of the timeline representing "A Li."

This line connected the two characters.

Yet it also completely severed them.

Su Qingying's performance was interrupted once more.

She looked at that dotted line and froze completely.

She understood Jiang Ci's meaning.

Ling Xi.

A Li.

She could perfectly perform either one.

But she could not connect them.

Her performance consisted of two separate, brilliant solos.

Not two sides of the same story, one entity.

This was precisely the hardest, most core crux behind Director Zhang Mouyi's crazy decision.

She fell into deep thought. That powerful aura from before instantly dissipated, reverting to the quiet Su Qingying facing a difficult problem.

She couldn't figure it out.

How could these two completely opposing souls be presented through the same face? Where exactly was that connecting point?

Seeing her tangled expression, Jiang Ci finally gave his own answer.

He raised his pen and neatly, stroke by stroke, wrote two words directly above that lonely dotted line.

Shadow.

The moment these two words were written.

Su Qingying's body jolted violently.

She stared fixedly at those two words, as if struck by lightning.

All the confusion about character switching, all the obstacles about performance boundaries, were utterly shattered at this moment by these two words.

Yes.

Shadow.

A Li is Ling Xi's shadow.

Through A Li's face, what Ye Chen sees is Ling Xi's shadow.

Ling Xi is A Li's shadow.

All of A Li's warm companionship is shrouded under the shadow of Ling Xi's thousand-year tragedy.

They are not opposites.

They are each other's cause and effect, the entanglement of destiny.

This is the true tragic core of this story!

"Rustle."

Su Qingying suddenly moved, carefully folding up that huge sheet of white paper along with all the analytical diagrams on it.

Holding that weighty "battle map," she walked to the door, but her steps halted.

She did not look back, only asking in a very soft voice, "Jiang Ci, what kind of person... are you really?"

Without waiting for Jiang Ci's answer, she had already pulled open the door and left quickly.

Watching her departing back, Jiang Ci finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Done.

His days of painstakingly studying the script weren't in vain.

As long as Su Qingying could perform the core concept of "shadow," the heartbreak value KPI was half secured.

He packed up his things and prepared to leave.

...

On the other side.

Inside the black entourage van, the atmosphere was oppressive.

As soon as Su Qingying got in the car, she unfolded that folded white paper on her lap, looking at it intently.

Her agent, Sister Wang, sat opposite her, her expression so grave it seemed water could drip from it.

She handed over a document.

"Qingying, take a look at this."

Su Qingying did not raise her head, her gaze still fixed on the paper filled with lines.

"Notification just received."

Sister Wang's words carried anxiety.

"The crew's first script reading session is scheduled for the day after tomorrow."

Su Qingying gave an "Mhm," still distracted.

Sister Wang's voice was very low, every word exuding the urgency of an impending storm.

"Director Zhang specifically named you."

"And Jiang Ci."

"He wants you two to perform a scene together on the spot."

Su Qingying's movements finally paused.

She raised her head.

Sister Wang looked at her and finished her final sentence.

"Director Zhang said if we're going to test, test 'the hardest one'."