WVKWnovel Chapter 320: The Multiple-Choice Question on the Knife's Edge
Chapter 320: The Multiple-Choice Question on the Knife's Edge
Chapter 320: The Multiple-Choice Question on the Knife's Edge
The moment this question left his lips, Jiang Wen behind the monitor tensed up.
This line wasn't in the script.
This was Lei Zhong's improvisation, a deadly test thrown at Jiang Ci by the veteran actor.
If answered wrong, all the groundwork laid for the character Jiang He would collapse in an instant.
Jiang Ci's heart gave a violent squeeze.
The high fever made his brain work sluggishly. But it was precisely this physiological sluggishness that allowed his body's instincts to outpace his conscious thought.
An instinct born of survival.
He raised a hand clumsily, wiping it across his sweat-drenched face.
The movement was awkward, carrying a hint of neurotic desperation.
His face was flushed red with fever, twisting into an expression that was neither a proper cry nor a proper laugh.
"Uncle..."
"I... I'm feeling terrible. I'm craving 'that stuff'."
This reply, delivered lightly, carried an undeniable ring of truth.
For a long-term addict controlled by drugs, after a period of extreme mental tension,
the most instinctive reaction isn't fear or greed, but the physiological craving brought on by withdrawal.
This answer perfectly explained his uncontrollable cold sweat and those subtle tremors.
Lei Zhong stared at him, the scrutinizing glint in those murky eyes not fading immediately.
The office fell into a terrifying silence, broken only by Jiang Ci's heavy, suppressed panting.
A few seconds later, Lei Zhong suddenly laughed.
It was a contemptuous laugh, the kind a controller has for the controlled.
He fished a crumpled cigarette from his pocket, didn't light it,
and casually tossed it at Jiang Ci's feet.
"Worthless trash."
The crisis was thus averted.
Behind the monitor, Jiang Wen's tense back finally relaxed.
He watched the humble figure on the screen bending down to pick up the cigarette, an irrepressible excitement burning in his own murky eyes.
The kid caught it.
And he caught it fucking beautifully!
Lei Zhong paid no more attention to the "waste" trembling at his feet.
He turned around, his gaze returning to the border map on the wall.
The plot was back on track.
He raised his hand, his thick finger tracing across the map,
finally landing on three routes marked out in red marker.
"Ah He."
"Yeah, Uncle." Jiang Ci had already straightened up, tucking the unlit cigarette behind his ear, and followed closely behind.
"These three routes can all get you across the border." Lei Zhong tapped his finger on the map. "If it were you, which one would be the safest?"
This was a multiple-choice question.
It was also the ultimate test for the character Jiang He.
Jiang Ci's gaze fell on the map.
The fever blurred his vision, but the routes he had desperately memorized were crystal clear in his mind.
Route A, the main highway, but with three official border checkpoints.
Route B, deep mountains and dense forests, the longest journey, with only one local militia outpost.
Route C, the shortest route, crossing a bottomless cliff and chasm.
A dead end.
A normal undercover would choose B.
The answer provided by the script was also B.
But Jiang Ci's mind held no script at this moment.
Only Jiang He.
A madman never takes the safe road.
A desperado specializes in picking the most dangerous path.
Jiang Ci moved.
He reached back and drew the dagger from his waist.
"Shing—"
A soft metallic whisper, a flash of cold light in the cramped office.
The cinematographer's lens snapped to follow, locking onto that gleam.
The next second.
Before anyone could react,
Jiang Ci violently slammed the dagger down onto the map!
"Thud!"
The sharp blade pierced through the tough parchment map, its tip burying deep into the wall behind.
The spot the dagger struck was not Route A, not Route B.
It was Route C, the route representing sheer cliffs and a one-in-ten-thousand chance of survival.
Jiang Ci's hand still pressed on the hilt, veins bulging on the back of his hand from the force.
He slowly raised his head, tilting it to the side, looking at the completely stunned Lei Zhong beside him.
On his feverishly flushed face, a maniacal grin split open.
"Here."
As his words fell, a shock ran through everyone present.
"Even the King of Hell wouldn't dare collect souls there. The cops definitely won't dare go."
He's mad.
This kid has gone mad with the role.
That was the first thought that popped into Lei Zhong's head.
He looked at the sickly smile on Jiang Ci's face, at the bloodshot yet startlingly bright eyes,
He was stunned for a moment, unable to distinguish whether the person before him was Jiang Ci or Jiang He, driven mad by his own pressure.
This ruthless disregard for life, this gambler's spirit of "placing oneself in a deadly situation to find a way out"—how could this be acted?
This was clearly a genuine desperado!
Behind the monitor.
Jiang Wen gripped the monitor's frame, his whole body trembling.
He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, not even registering the pain.
This is it!
This is fucking it!
Someone capable of becoming a trusted confidant to an ambitious, ruthless character like Cha Cai could never be some timid, cautious small fry!
This was the madness he wanted! This gambler's spirit!
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
Earth-shaking laughter shattered the office's silence.
Lei Zhong erupted into a burst of hearty, unrestrained laughter.
He extended a large, cattail-leaf-fan-sized hand and slapped Jiang Ci's shoulder heavily, again and again.
"Good! Good! Good!"
"The more dangerous the place, the safer it is! Well said!"
He pointed at Jiang Ci, the admiration on his face completely undisguised.
After speaking, he yanked off a wooden waist token engraved with complex patterns hanging from his own belt,
and tossed it directly into Jiang Ci's arms.
"Take it!"
"From today on, in this stronghold, you can go wherever you want except my bedroom!"
"Anyone who dares stop you, you slap them!"
Jiang Ci fumbled to catch the heavy waist token, looking utterly dazed by this sudden reward.
He immediately hunched over, wearing a servile, ingratiating smile that went straight to the bone.
"Thank you, Uncle! Thank you, Uncle!"
He clutched the waist token tightly to his chest, as if he had been given the most delicious bone in the world.
But in the instant he lowered his head, in a corner no one could see.
His eyes lowered, a cold glint churning in their depths.
The key.
The key to open the gates of this hell.
He had finally obtained it.
...
That night.
After filming wrapped, Lei Zhong didn't immediately return to the guesthouse.
He had a set assistant pull up the playback from the day's shoot and sat alone before the empty monitor, watching it over and over.
On the screen, the image froze at the moment Jiang Ci stabbed the dagger into the map.
That crazed, twisted face was magnified on the display.
Lei Zhong lit a cigarette and took a drag.
He stared at the familiar-yet-strange young man on the screen for a very, very long time.
Finally, he shook his head and stubbed out the cigarette butt in the ashtray.
He picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the talk button.
"Hey, Director Jiang."
"That kid...!"
"Acting opposite him... it's a real fucking rush!"