The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles

Jiang Ci placed his packed suitcase by the door and sent a message to Lin Wan.

There were no unnecessary pleasantries, just the address of Hongye Residential Complex and a concise request.

"Sister Wan, I need a car to go home. Tomorrow morning at nine, just have it sent to this address."

He didn't mention any specific requirements.

In his mind, the company could just send any ordinary work vehicle—something that could run and fit his somewhat worn suitcase would be more than enough.

Lin Wan replied quickly.

Just one word.

"Okay."

Jiang Ci didn't reply further. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and looked around the single room that was now emptied out, save for a simple cotton quilt.

He had already informed the landlady about moving out. Tonight would be his last night here.

...

The next morning at nine.

A brand-new red Audi Q7, utterly out of place with its surroundings, came to a precise stop under the stairwell of the old residential building.

Its body lines were sleek, the paintwork gleaming with a dazzling luster under the morning sun.

The complex instantly erupted.

An old man taking a stroll under a tree, an auntie who had just returned from buying groceries—they all stopped in their tracks almost simultaneously.

People gathered, pointing at this luxury car that clearly cost a fortune.

"Whose car is this? Why is it parked in our rundown place?"

"This must cost over a million, right? Tsk tsk, even the tires are more expensive than my monthly salary."

"Probably some kid who struck it rich, coming back to show off, right?"

Amidst the chatter, Jiang Ci emerged from the building entrance, pulling his somewhat worn suitcase.

Under the astonished gazes of the crowd, he walked calmly towards the eye-catching Q7, opened the trunk, and placed his suitcase inside.

The driver was Lin Wan's assistant, Xiao Chen, a capable young man.

He handed over the car keys and relayed his boss's message in a business-like manner: "Brother Ci, Sister Wan arranged this specifically. She said you're a public figure now, however minor, representing the face of our Spark Media. Your travel arrangements shouldn't be too shabby."

Jiang Ci: "..."

The face?

He looked down at his somewhat faded black trench coat and then at the Converse high-top canvas shoes that had accompanied him through several film sets.

This "face" might be a bit drafty.

Just as he was about to get in the car, a figure hurried over and stopped him.

It was his landlady, an enthusiastic and somewhat gossipy middle-aged woman. She had been buying breakfast downstairs and witnessed the whole scene.

The landlady pulled him aside, lowered her voice, her face filled with unconcealed concern and worry.

"Xiao Ci, this car... you rented it, right?"

She looked the luxury car up and down, calculating. "This car must cost a lot per day, right? Auntie is telling you, it's good for young people to care about face, but don't stretch yourself thin just for appearances! It's not worth it!"

Jiang Ci was momentarily stunned.

Looking at the landlady's expression that clearly said "child, you must not go down the wrong path," he suddenly felt that explaining how his boss had forced this luxury car on him seemed more complicated than admitting he was stretching himself thin.

To avoid endless explanations and questioning later, he chose the simplest path.

Following the auntie's lead, he nodded vaguely and offered the most reasonable excuse.

"Mm, the company's... for work. It's reimbursable."

Only then did the landlady relax, patting his arm. "Reimbursable is good, reimbursable is good! Then drive carefully on the road. This car is expensive, don't bump or scratch it."

"Oh, and if you have friends who need to rent later, don't forget about your Auntie!"

"The rent won't be expensive, same as yours, 1100 a month."

Jiang Ci smiled and nodded, indicating it was no problem.

He then got into the driver's seat and closed the door.

The Nappa leather seats were unbelievably soft.

Yet, he felt no ripple of emotion. His mind was solely occupied with a very practical problem.

From Shanghai to his hometown, that small county town, it was almost seven hundred kilometers on the highway.

This 3.0T Q7... what's its fuel consumption per hundred kilometers?

Jiang Ci started the car and, under the complex gazes of the neighbors—some envious, some suspicious—drove away from Hongye Residential Complex, the place he had briefly called home.

The navigation destination was set straight for his hometown.

A small county town that you had to zoom in on the map several times over just to find its name.

...

Seven hours of long-distance travel.

At five o'clock that afternoon, the eye-catching red Q7 slowly drove onto the main street of the county town.

Compared to the bustle of Shanghai, everything in the county town seemed slow and leisurely.

The appearance of the luxury car once again caused a minor stir.

Jiang Ci ignored the inquisitive looks, skillfully turned a few street corners, and finally parked the car in front of a residential building that looked even more dated than his Shanghai rental.

The red bricks of the building's exterior wall were mottled, revealing the gray concrete underneath. Various clothes and cured meats hung from the balconies.

The weather was nice today. A few elderly men had brought small stools and were playing chess by the flower bed downstairs, locked in fierce battle across the "Chu River and Han Border."

As the Q7's engine sound died, the sounds of battle by the chessboard also stopped in tacit agreement.

The elderly men all stopped their movements in unison, turning their heads in sync, curiously examining this "hunk of iron" that had descended from the sky.

Jiang Ci turned off the engine and got out.

He looked up at the familiar yet slightly unfamiliar residential building before him, and at the warm, orange-yellow light shining from the window on the third floor.

The string in his heart that had been constantly taut because of the KPI, because of the life countdown, finally loosened a tiny bit at this moment.

Just as he closed the car door, a clear, somewhat uncertain voice sounded from behind.

"Ci... Brother Ci?"

Jiang Ci turned around.

A girl wearing a high school uniform, her hair in a ponytail, was standing not far away, holding a stack of books in her arms.

It was Li Li, the daughter of Old Li, the neighbor who lived across from his family.

The girl's gaze moved back and forth between him and the red Audi Q7, finally settling on the car, her eyes sparkling.

"Brother Ci! It really is you! When did you get back?"

The girl ran over quickly, looking at him with admiration, then pointed at the car.

"Oh my gosh, Brother Ci, is... is this your car? You're amazing! Is this the kind of car celebrities drive? It looks so expensive!"

Looking into the girl's eyes, filled with "admiration" and "envy," Jiang Ci felt nothing but awkwardness.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth and quickly repeated the explanation he'd used in Shanghai.

"The company's."

Having said that, and not waiting for the other party to ask for more details, he immediately pulled his suitcase from the trunk and walked quickly towards the building entrance.

"I'm going up first, little sister. We'll catch up later."

He had told his mom his estimated arrival time on the way back, so he figured she should be busy right about now.

He opened the front door.

A rich aroma of food, mixed with the scent of home, washed over him.

The kitchen curtain was pushed aside, and a middle-aged woman wearing a floral apron walked out.

It was Jiang Ci's mother, Chu Hong.

When she saw her son at the door, travel-worn and looking even thinner, the wiping motion in her hands stopped instantly.

Her eyes reddened in an instant.

But she didn't say anything.

No long-lost embrace, no sentimental greetings.

All the longing and heartache were transformed into the simplest of actions.

She walked over silently, took the somewhat worn suitcase from Jiang Ci's hand, dragged it to the corner, and set it down. Then, Ms. Chu urged him.

"What are you standing there for? Go wash your hands."

"The food's getting cold."

Jiang Ci's nose tingled slightly.

"Yeah, okay."