dognovel Chapter 337: Jiang Ci: Tired of Pretending to Be Cool, My Legs Are Numb
Chapter 337: Jiang Ci: Tired of Pretending to Be Cool, My Legs Are Numb
Chapter 337: Jiang Ci: Tired of Pretending to Be Cool, My Legs Are Numb
He spoke into the microphone, uttering his final words.
"Finally, I want to dedicate this award to those..."
A brief pause plunged the entire venue into silence.
"To those names forgotten in the long river of history, to those figures who trudge forward under the weight of reality's shadows."
Jiang Ci's voice was level, devoid of any embellishment, yet it settled in the heart of every listener.
Below the stage, many remained trapped in bewilderment, unable to decipher the deeper meaning of this speech.
Thanking the prop master and background actors was already unorthodox enough,
but now, he was dedicating this highest honor of the Chinese film industry to a group of ethereal "figures"?
Jiang Ci's gaze had no fixed point; it pierced through the gilded, resplendent dome of the venue, looking toward another time and space.
"Someone once taught me that being able to live under the sunlight is itself a privilege."
The words were soft, yet carried clearly through the microphone into everyone's ears.
He withdrew his distant gaze, lowered his eyes to look at the heavy golden trophy in his hand, his thumb sliding over the metal patterns.
"I use acting to touch, to experience those extremes of darkness, not to succumb, but so that more people standing in the light can turn their heads and see the price behind that brightness."
As his words fell, he performed an action that made the broadcast director's heart skip a beat.
He did not follow convention by raising the trophy high to bask in the glory of the entire hall.
He bent down.
Under the gaze of thousands, he gently placed that Golden Rooster Award trophy, symbolizing an actor's highest honor,
onto the smooth, polished floor of the stage.
*Thud.*
A soft sound, transmitted through the microphone at his collar, echoed throughout the venue.
That trophy countless actors dreamt of now stood alone on the ground,
illuminated by the overhead light, reflecting a cold, proud gleam.
The entire hall fell silent.
The cinematographer even forgot to press the shutter.
Immediately after, Jiang Ci took half a step back.
Before the crowd could recover from their shock, he straightened the hem of his pure black suit,
and bowed deeply to the trophy on the floor.
The newly crowned Film Emperor, dressed in expensive haute couture, performed the most humble salute to the highest honor he had just received.
This silent action was like a slap across the face of the phrase "fame and fortune above all."
He wasn't thanking the trophy.
He was paying homage to the characters.
The glory belonged to the Hegemon who fell on his sword at the Wu River, to the narcotics officers who stained the border with their blood, to all the characters in stories who burned through their lives.
And he, Jiang Ci, was merely a vessel fortunate enough to survive, responsible for transmitting their stories.
Front row, below the stage.
Director Wei Song was stunned for a moment, then the muscles on his perpetually calculating face twitched uncontrollably.
He abruptly stood up and began clapping with all his might.
The applause was particularly jarring in the quiet venue.
*Clap!*
*Clap! Clap!*
Wei Song's eyes reddened.
Beside him, Qin Feng had long anticipated this scene,
or rather, he had completely deciphered this young man. He stood up as well, clapping forcefully.
A complex smile appeared on Hou Hsiao-hsien's defiant face, and he too stood up.
The applause started from the front row and spread throughout the entire venue.
From sparse to thunderous.
Within the applause was no longer mere congratulation, but a reverence mixed with the awe of having one's soul shaken.
Jiang Ci straightened up.
He calmly walked forward, scooped up the trophy from the floor with one hand, and casually carried it.
He didn't look at the camera again, nor did he say another word.
He turned and walked toward the profound darkness backstage.
All he left for the entire hall was a resolute yet solitary figure.
Just as when he arrived.
He waved his sleeves, taking not a single cloud with him.
...
One step, two steps.
When Jiang Ci's figure completely disappeared beyond the stage lights, walking into the shadowy passageway without cameras,
that solitary, lofty aura that had sustained him in confronting the hall full of fame and fortune suddenly dissipated.
His legs went weak, his body lurched forward uncontrollably, and he leaned against the corridor wall.
The suit on his back, which seemed to devour light, was already soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to his skin.
"Bro! Brother! What's wrong with you?!"
Sun Zhou, who had been waiting at the passage entrance, saw him like this and turned deathly pale with fright.
He rushed forward in a single stride, flustered as he tried to carry Jiang Ci on his back.
"I'll call an ambulance! Are you having another episode?!"
"Don't..."
Leaning against the wall, Jiang Ci gasped for breath, barely managing to raise a hand to stop his assistant's actions.
"Stop shouting..."
Every breath he took burned in his lungs.
"I'm not fainting... it's just..."
Jiang Ci took several seconds to recover before squeezing out a sentence through gritted teeth.
"Got tired from acting cool. Legs went numb."
Sun Zhou: "..."
All of the assistant's worry and panic got stuck in his throat, his entire body freezing in place.
Jiang Ci weakly slid down the wall to sit on the floor, completely spent.
That resolute will belonging to Xiang Yu, that exhaustion belonging to Jiang He,
had burned to their absolute limit in that grand solo performance just now.
Now, the flames were extinguished, leaving only ashes on the ground.
And a boundless, endless sense of hunger.
He lowered his head, looking at the golden trophy he had casually placed on the ground,
and suddenly laughed at himself mockingly.
Film Emperor or Hegemon, whatever.
Right now, all he wanted was to devour an entire family bucket.
Just as he was calculating whether he could start with ten chicken wings at the celebration banquet,
a rapid, crisp sound of high heels approached from afar, carrying a palpable aura of killing intent.
Lin Wan, striding in ten-centimeter high heels, quickly "charged" backstage.
Her eyes were rimmed red, yet she forced a fierce "this lady is here to settle accounts" expression onto her face.
She rushed up to Jiang Ci, saw his disheveled state collapsed on the floor,
raised her hand, and gave his shoulder a not-too-light, not-too-heavy slap.
"You jerk!"
Lin Wan's voice was thick with nasal congestion, yet still full of vigor.
"That was said so well!"
Jiang Ci swayed from her slap, the breath he'd just recovered nearly knocked out of him again.
Lin Wan paid him no mind, announcing on her own,
"From now on! You can take whatever roles you want! Even if it's playing a tree, this lady will sell the pots and pans to invest in it!"
Just as Jiang Ci was about to retort with "playing a tree means not going hungry," the phone in his suit's inner pocket suddenly began vibrating wildly.
*Buzz— Buzz— Buzz—*
The frequency didn't sound like an incoming call, more like countless messages flooding in simultaneously.
Sun Zhou, flustered, pulled the phone from his pocket.
With just one glance at the screen, Sun Zhou's face transformed from deathly pale to ecstatic.
His hand holding the phone trembled, his lips quivering, unable to form a complete sentence for a long moment.
"Bro..."
"Brother! You... you could stop acting now and still be fine..."
Trembling, Sun Zhou brought the phone screen before Jiang Ci's eyes.
"Look... look who singled you out for praise..."
On the screen, a bright red app icon was frantically pulsing.
The source of the push notification was a blue V avatar with a sickle and hammer emblem, one familiar to every citizen of the nation.