The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 228: Poetry and distant places are not as good as the firelight on the stove

Peng Yanchang and Zhang Zilan were the first ones who couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Pfft…"

A laugh that could no longer be suppressed was like lighting a fuse.

"Brother Jiang Ci, what is this? Abstract art?" Zhang Zilan covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with each suppressed chuckle.

"This is performance art. The theme is 'On How the Auto-Focus Function of a Phone Can Malfunction.'" Peng Yanchang was even more direct, laughing while giving Jiang Ci's work a name.

Seeing the situation was about to spiral irrevocably into comedy, He Jiongjiong quickly stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation.

He picked up that phone, turned the screen towards himself, and immediately activated his expression management.

He desperately searched his mind for any usable words of praise.

"Ahem, Jiang Ci's work here…"

He paused, as if organizing his words.

"It has a very… lived-in feel, yes, a lived-in feel!"

He nodded emphatically, trying to use the gesture to add credibility to his words.

"And this perspective is very unique!"

However, after saying these two sentences, even he felt a bit lacking in confidence.

In the courtyard, aside from the stifled giggles of the two younger cast members, the atmosphere settled into a subtly awkward stalemate.

Su Qingying didn't speak, just quietly looked at that blurry photo, her thoughts unreadable.

Luo Yu, meanwhile, pushed up his glasses, treating this scene as a kind of variety show effect, silently observing everyone's reactions.

Just as everyone thought this was merely a comedic interlude about to be brushed aside, the head chef, Huang Yulei, who hadn't spoken much, suddenly put down his water cup.

Huang Yulei stood up and walked straight forward.

He wasn't laughing; his expression was even somewhat serious.

He took the phone from He Jiongjiong's hand and didn't speak immediately.

He examined that photo, looking at it for a very, very long time.

Everyone's gaze followed his movements, focusing on that small screen.

The camera gave the photo a big close-up.

A blurry, searing-hot flame, out of focus from being too close.

At the edge of the flame, one could see an old woman's wrinkled hand holding a cattail-leaf fan.

And on the other side of the stove, faintly visible was a plate of freshly cooked, still steaming hot… stir-fried pork with peppers.

Huang Yulei lifted his head and looked around at everyone in the courtyard.

He spoke in a deep voice.

"You are all wrong."

His voice instantly suppressed all the noise and frivolity in the entire scene.

Peng Yanchang and Zhang Zilan's smiles froze on their faces.

He Jiongjiong also stood there stunned.

Ignoring everyone's astonishment, Huang Yulei picked up the other two phones on his own, placing Su Qingying and Luo Yu's photos side by side on the table.

"This one, and this one." He pointed at the two photos that could be called perfect.

"These are beautiful postcards, magazine covers, works of art worthy of being framed and hung on the wall."

His evaluation was high and also objective.

"They are poetry, they are distant horizons."

"Anyone with money and time can go to that distant place and take an equally beautiful photo."

He paused, then shifted his tone.

"They are scenery viewed through a pane of glass, beautiful, but you cannot touch it, nor can you smell its scent."

After saying this, he gently pushed those two phones aside.

Then, he raised Jiang Ci's phone to the highest point, to a position where all the guests could see it clearly.

"But this… is home."

As soon as the words fell, even the rapidly scrolling bullet comments in the live stream paused for a moment.

"You don't understand." Huang Yulei's gaze slowly shifted away from the blurry photo, sinking into distant memories.

"Su Qingying's photo is called 'Distant Horizons,' Luo Yu's is called 'Artistic Conception.' Jiang Ci's photo…"

He pondered for a moment, then gave his own name for it.

"It's called 'Dinner is Ready.'"

"It doesn't care about composition, it doesn't care about light and shadow. But," his voice carried a tremor, "it has flavor."

"I can smell the choking scent of burning straw, I can smell the fragrance of hot oil hitting peppers."

"It has temperature."

"I can feel the wave of heat brought up when Granny fans the fire."

"And it has sound."

Huang Yulei smiled at this point, a smile tinged with nostalgia.

"I can hear when I was a kid, sneaking bites of meat fresh from the wok around the stove, getting caught by my mom, and then the sound of the chopsticks 'smacking' on the back of my hand."

"Ouch… it still kinda hurts."

His final, teasing remark, however, made everyone present unable to laugh.

A vast, warm emotion, wrapped in the aroma of food, pierced through the screen and struck everyone.

Poetry and distant horizons are beautiful, yes, but what truly fills the stomach is always this handful of steaming hot, mundane life.

Luo Yu silently took out his notebook and fountain pen from his pocket.

He flipped to the latest page and crossed out the line he had written earlier: "The Practical Application of Chaos Theory in Vocal Art – An Analysis of the Jiang Ci Phenomenon."

The pen tip hovered over the paper for a long time.

Finally, he solemnly wrote down a brand new title.

"When reality itself surpasses artistic processing, it becomes the highest form of expression."

Su Qingying remained sitting quietly, but her hand had, at some point, secretly tightened around her water cup.

Her photo was of a lonely traveler.

Jiang Ci's photo was of a warm home.

The traveler, in the end, must return home.

The bullet comments in the live stream, after nearly half a minute of silence, erupted once more.

[I was wrong, I apologize to Jiang Ci! I, a grown-ass man, cried looking at a blurry picture!]

[Teacher Huang is awesome! That speech gave me chills! This is a true connoisseur of life!]

[Poetry and distant horizons are for others to see; the mundane fires of life are what you keep for yourself. I get it now!]

While everyone was still immersed in the immense shock brought by Huang Yulei's words, the loudspeaker in the courtyard suddenly crackled to life.

It was the voice of the director's team.

"Ahem, after unanimous review by the program crew, we believe that in this 'Mountain Photography Contest,' Jiang Ci's work best aligns with the core theme of our show, 'The Yearning for Mundane Fireworks Daily Life'!"

"Therefore, the program crew has decided—"

The director deliberately drew out his voice, building the suspense.

"To reward Teacher Jiang Ci with a brand new, top-of-the-line kitchen knife set!"

A reward… a set of knives?

That's way too practical!

Soon, a staff member, holding a long, exquisite wooden box, jogged into the courtyard.

The box was placed on the table and opened.

A brand new set of knives was neatly arranged on the red velvet lining inside.

From the chef's knife to the slicing knife, from the boning knife to the cleaver, everything was there.

The knife blades gleamed with a sharp, cold light under the setting sun.

Jiang Ci's eyes instantly lit up.

He stepped forward and picked up the heaviest Chinese-style cleaver.

It felt substantial in his hand, the weight distribution and grip of the handle were perfect.

A satisfied smile appeared on his face.

The first thought that popped into his mind was this.

He'd have to find a courier later and ship these straight back to his hometown.

His mom's old cleaver, which she'd been using for decades, was long overdue for a replacement.