Meng Zhen could not be bothered to argue and told him to hurry and put on the armor. They were about to shoot the second scene.
Lu Xianqing stood to the side as the stylist brought over the heavy armor and the red-tasseled spear. Meng Zhen explained the scene while watching them. “Keep your emotions restrained later. Qin Sizheng is young. He might not be able to hold his own against you.”
“He wants to overpower me?” Lu Xianqing raised a brow and glanced sideways. Meng Zhen shot him a glare and continued, “Your grief and indignation are different from his. Yours is more about helplessness and unwillingness in the face of a shattered nation. Act like a father. Do not overdo it.”
Lu Xianqing sighed.
When Meng Zhen saw that Qin Sizheng had already changed into his second look, he beckoned him over as well. “Do not be so stiff and hesitant to speak to him. If you need to hug him, hug him. If you need to call him Father, call him. If you need to cry, cry. I want to see tears. It does not matter if you shout until your voice breaks. The dubbing can be fixed later. I need you to let all your emotions out.”
Qin Sizheng nodded, half understanding.
Still worried that he would not be able to withstand Lu Xianqing’s presence, Meng Zhen added, “Later, shoot more of his back. Focus the camera on your face. That will show better.”
Lu Xianqing said, “No need. Just shoot him.”
Meng Zhen paused, then smiled knowingly. “Playing your little tricks, huh? That ‘Father’ was not for nothing.”
Qin Sizheng did not understand. Lu Xianqing did not explain either. For him, this promotional film was practically charity work. For Qin Sizheng, however, it was an excellent stepping stone. The more the camera stayed on his face, the better.
“Fourth Brother, please move your shoulder a little. I need to adjust the armor.”
Both of them were fully prepared in costume and makeup. They signaled to Meng Zhen that they were ready. The crew cleared the set and retreated beyond the frame. The camera moved in tight on Lu Xianqing’s face.
His armor was tattered and broken, the fabric slashed by blades and soaked through with dark red blood. His face and lips were smeared with blood and soot. Qin Sizheng stumbled forward and dropped to his knees before him, wanting to touch his face yet not daring to. The wounds were so realistically done that for a moment it felt as though he were truly injured.
Lu Xianqing’s hand trembled as he gripped the broken spear. His body swayed, clearly at the end of his strength.
Grand General Shen Zhu had fought hundreds alone. Exhausted, he was swallowed by enemy forces. Blades rained down like a storm. By the time he retreated to the city gate, he was hanging on by a single breath.
When Shen You, played by Qin Sizheng, arrived, he saw only this final sight of his father. He snatched up a spear and drove it into an enemy soldier’s chest.
Shen Zhu opened his mouth and coughed up a mouthful of blood. It splattered onto Shen You’s hand. He trembled slightly as a hoarse voice, thick with blood, forced its way out.
“You’er.”
Shen You knelt before him and called softly, “Father.”
Qin Sizheng’s emotion was still not enough. He was trying to show grief, but it felt pale and stiff. Ordinary viewers might not notice, but Meng Zhen could. At this rate, it would not pass.
Lu Xianqing’s brows tightened slightly. His body, which had barely been holding up, suddenly sank to one knee. He could no longer grip the spear. Swallowing the stage blood with difficulty, he improvised a line not in the script.
“Wipe it for Father.”
Qin Sizheng froze. That was not in the script.
“You’er, the men of the Shen family must be strong.” Lu Xianqing locked his gaze onto him, drawing all of his attention inward.
Qin Sizheng reached out and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Father is fine. Father is still strong. I can kill a hundred more enemies.” Shen Zhu tried to stand, only to collapse again. Both knees hit the ground this time. Another mouthful of blood poured out, and his hand began to slide down.
Meng Zhen almost shouted at Lu Xianqing for changing the script again, but the next instant a choked, trembling “Father” rang out. He swallowed his protest and kept watching the monitor.
Shen Zhu was at his limit. His breaths came shallow and ragged. “You’er… if one day there is still a chance… you must drive out the invaders… reclaim our mountains and rivers.”
“Father, do not speak. We will survive! I need you alive!”
From within his shattered armor, Shen Zhu pulled out half of a jade pendant. His hand shook as he placed it in Shen You’s palm. “The Shen family creed… a man may bleed, but he must not shed tears.”
The jade was slick with blood—his father’s blood. Shen You’s hands trembled. He fought desperately to hold back his tears, his eyes reddening with the strain.
Shen Zhu clasped his hand, guiding it to grip the spear together. Word by word, he said, “Father leaves this spear to you. When the war is over… take it to my grave. Burn it there. Bring two jars of good wine.”
He tilted his head back. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, yet he smiled. “Father… never drank with you. A pity… I will not live to see the day you marry… and offer wine with your wife.”
Shen You clutched the spear. The hand beneath his palm trembled violently. He had completely forgotten this was only a promotional shoot. In that moment, he was no longer himself—he was Shen You, facing the ruin of his family and country.
“You will drink it! I will take you out of here! You promised that when I turned eighteen, you would forge me a spear yourself!” Shen You gripped his hand as his heart clenched painfully, his breathing uneven.
He forced a smile through tears, making his tone sound lighter. “I have not even received my Shattered Snow Spear yet. You cannot go back on your word! And the twenty-six forms of spear technique—you have only taught me twenty! The six most powerful forms are still left!”
“You’er… raise the military banner. Do not let it… fall. Remember…”
Shen Zhu’s eyes slowly lost focus. The light faded from them. His hand fell limp.
Shen You seized it, pressing it back around the spear. A heart-wrenching cry of “Father!” tore from his throat, raw and broken like the howl of a wounded beast. He snatched up the fallen spear and charged into the enemy ranks.
His father was dead. The nation had fallen. There was no road left behind him.
He looked at the familiar faces scattered across the ground. When he was little, he used to sneak off to the training grounds to play. Those older brothers and uncles would lift him onto their shoulders to let him “ride a horse,” only to be scolded by his father. They would obediently set him down and be punished together.
They would get scolded this time, then do it again the next.
He had grown up wrapped in everyone’s affection. Now they were nothing but cold corpses. He could not save them—but he had to defend his father’s honor and the dignity of all those brothers and uncles.
He would spill his last drop of blood for the Red Shirt Army. He would not become the sole coward who fled.
The young man swung his red-tasseled spear and charged into the enemy ranks. Hatred burned in his eyes. His spear technique cut through the air with sharp, whistling force. Even Meng Zhen stared, transfixed, fists clenched as he waited for the climax.
Outnumbered, Shen You gradually lost strength. His body was nearly pierced full of holes.
Half-kneeling on the ground, he saw the blood-soaked military banner, burned and torn. With difficulty, he grabbed it. Veins stood out starkly across the back of his hand. The camera focused tightly on that grip, conveying weight and unwilling surrender.
“Father… You’er will not live to see the day our mountains and rivers are reclaimed, when the seas are calm and the realm is at peace.”
He forced the banner upright and secured it in place. A blade slashed down. He knelt, still bracing the banner.
Blood spilled from his mouth, drop by drop soaking into the fabric beneath his hand.
Tears slid from the corners of the young man’s eyes, yet a faint smile curved his bloodstained lips. His fingers slowly loosened from the banner, until those star-bright eyes dimmed and lost their light.
“Father… uncles, brothers… wait for You’er.”
“Cut! Perfect!” Meng Zhen clapped repeatedly, so excited he was almost incoherent. “Outstanding! The two of you have incredible presence!”
Qin Sizheng flushed at the praise. Unlike Lu Xianqing, he still could not control his emotions at will. A little embarrassed, he turned his head and wiped at his eyes.
An Ning hurried over to help remove the heavy armor and asked Lu Xianqing in a low voice, “Fourth Brother, are you all right?”
“It was only a scene. I am fine,” Lu Xianqing replied.
An Ning finally relaxed. Every time Lu Xianqing filmed, she worried endlessly, afraid something might go wrong.
On the other side, Qin Sizheng had finished removing his armor as well. He let out a long breath, finally relaxing. An Ning noticed how red his eyes were and immediately felt sorry for him. “Poor baby, your eyes are all red. It is all Fourth Brother’s fault for changing the script on the spot and making our little kite cry so hard.”
Lu Xianqing gave a cold snort. Turning toward Qin Sizheng, he reached out and lightly tugged the topknot on his head. “Little kite, are you blaming me for making you cry?”
Qin Sizheng quickly turned around. “No. I know you were helping me.”
Lu Xianqing released him and glanced at An Ning. “Did you hear that? He volunteered to be made to cry by me.”
An Ning could not win against him. She rolled her eyes and fell silent.
Meng Zhen, still savoring the moment, replayed the footage once more before walking over. “Thank you both for your hard work.”
Qin Sizheng immediately said, “It was not hard. Thank you for your guidance.”
Lu Xianqing said, “Oh, it was very hard. There is not even a cup of water here. The kid’s throat is hoarse and no one thought to give him a drink. Just a verbal thank-you?”
Meng Zhen found him insufferable. By comparison, Qin Sizheng’s humility and politeness were far more endearing. After spending half a day together, he found the young man sincere and eager to learn. He could not help saying, “You are not quite like the rumors. Do not speak carelessly online in the future.”
“Yes, I will be careful,” Qin Sizheng replied at once.
Meng Zhen added, “Those who stay near vermilion become red; those who stay near ink become black. Keeping some distance from Fourth Brother would not be a bad thing.”
Qin Sizheng did not have time to respond before someone else cut in.
“It is too late to stay far away. In a few days, I will make him even redder. Right, A Jing?”
At the name, Qin Sizheng jolted. Remembering that night’s “lesson,” heat crept up behind his ears. He spoke quickly, “I am going to remove my makeup first,” and slipped away in a hurry.
The post-production team for the promotional film consisted of professional CG technicians from the game company. Every frame was rendered with meticulous detail. When the final cut was released, even Qin Sizheng was stunned by the result.
The official Nine Swords account posted the video, and the new expansion ignited another wave of hype. Shengyu Entertainment released a firm statement as well, declaring that they would pursue legal action against certain marketing accounts stirring controversy.
At the same time, the opening ceremony for Between Good and Evil was about to begin. Zhou Changjiang disliked online theatrics, and since the film was not particularly aligned with mainstream themes, they chose not to livestream. The ceremony would be kept low-key.
Only a few reliable media outlets with prior collaborations would be invited to take photographs. No video recordings would be permitted for public release.
Jiang Zhen had just been discharged from the hospital. The car radio happened to be discussing the news. He kicked the car door in irritation. “Can you turn that off? It is so damn noisy!”
Xu Shu bristled as well. “Who do you think is to blame? If you had not stirred up trouble, would we be in this mess?”
Jiang Zhen was left speechless. It was his own fault. If he had known, he would not have leaked that information. Who would have thought the duck already cooked could still fly away? When he saw the Nine Swords promotional film in the hospital, jealousy nearly consumed him. And now Between Good and Evil had become Qin Sizheng’s as well.
Xu Shu said, “About Qin Sizheng’s variety show. Meng Wa could not bring himself to ask him again, and no one else will either. They are planning to have you replace him. I already accepted it for you. We will join the production in a few days.”
“I am not going!” Jiang Zhen exploded. Last time he had already been irritated filming a role Qin Sizheng had rejected. Now he was expected to record a show Qin Sizheng had dropped?
“You think you can just refuse?” Xu Shu snapped. “Do you run your own studio? Have you won Best Actor? Last time I told you not to go, but you insisted—said even one day as a guest was worth it.”
Jiang Zhen could not admit that he had gone to attract Lu Xianqing. “Qin Sizheng is not recording anymore. Whoever goes now will just get scolded. I am not going.”
“So you are afraid?” Xu Shu shot back. “No need for others to compare you. You have already decided you are inferior to him.”
Jiang Zhen had no answer.
Xu Shu was fed up with his recent string of reckless moves. He had worked tirelessly to secure jobs and endorsements, only for Jiang Zhen to secretly sabotage Zhou Changjiang’s film behind his back. Not only had he lost the role, he had also lost two endorsements and a magazine cover along with it.
His father was dead. The nation had fallen. There was no road left behind him.
He looked at the familiar faces scattered across the ground. When he was little, he would sneak off to the training grounds to play. Those older brothers and uncles would hoist him onto their shoulders to “ride the horse,” only to be scolded by his father and obediently set him down to be reprimanded together.
They would get scolded this time, and do it again the next.
He had grown up wrapped in everyone’s affection. Now they were nothing but cold corpses. He could not save them, but he had to defend the dignity of his father and all those brothers and uncles.
He would shed the last drop of blood for the “Red Shirt Army.” He would not be the lone deserter.
The young man brandished his red-tasseled spear and charged into the enemy ranks. Hatred blazed in his eyes, and his spear techniques were sharp and forceful, whistling through the air. Meng Zhen was nearly transfixed, fists clenched as he waited for the climactic moment.
Shen You was outnumbered and gradually ran out of strength, his body almost pierced into a hedgehog.
Half-kneeling on the ground, he saw the bloodstained military banner, burned and tattered beyond recognition. With difficulty, he grasped it in his hand. The veins stood out clearly along the back of his hand. The camera focused closely on it, emphasizing the weight and unwillingness in that grip.
“Father, Your son will not live to see the day our mountains and rivers are restored, when the seas are calm and the realm at peace.” Shen You struggled to raise the banner upright and fix it in place. A blade came down. Supporting himself against the banner, he knelt.
Blood spilled from his mouth, drop by drop falling onto the back of his hand, soaking into the banner.
Tears slid from the young man’s eyes, yet a faint smile lingered at the corner of his bloodstreaked lips. His fingers slowly loosened their hold on the banner, until the starlit brilliance in his eyes faded away.
“Father, uncles, brothers… wait for me.”
“Good, cut!” Meng Zhen applauded repeatedly, so excited he could barely form coherent words. “Brilliant! The two of you have incredible expressiveness!”
Qin Sizheng flushed at the praise. He still could not control his emotions as effortlessly as Lu Xianqing; a little embarrassed, he turned his head to wipe at his eyes.
An Ning hurried over to help remove the heavy armor and asked Lu Xianqing softly, “Fourth Brother, are you all right?”
“It is only a scene. I am fine,” Lu Xianqing replied.
An Ning relaxed. Every time Lu Xianqing filmed, she was terrified something might go wrong if she so much as blinked.
Qin Sizheng had also finished removing his armor and let out a long breath. Seeing his reddened eyes, An Ning felt a pang of sympathy. “Our baby’s eyes are red. It is all Fourth Brother’s fault for changing the script at the last minute and making our little kite cry so hard.”
Lu Xianqing gave a cold chuckle, turned his head toward Qin Sizheng, and reached out to tug lightly at the topknot on his head. “Little kite, are you blaming me for making you cry?”
Qin Sizheng quickly turned around. “No. I know you were helping me.”
Lu Xianqing released him and glanced at An Ning. “Did you hear that? He volunteered to be made to cry.”
Unable to win against him, An Ning rolled her eyes and stepped aside in silence. Meng Zhen, still savoring the scene, watched it again before walking over. “Thank you for your hard work, teachers.”
Qin Sizheng hurriedly replied, “It was not hard at all. Thank you for your guidance.”
Lu Xianqing said, “Oh, it was very hard. Not even a sip of water here. The child’s voice is hoarse and no one thinks to give him a cup. Just verbal thanks, is it?”
Meng Zhen was exasperated with him. By comparison, Qin Sizheng’s obedient humility was far more endearing. After spending half a day together, he also felt the young man was sincere and eager to learn. He could not help saying, “You are not quite like the rumors say. Do not speak carelessly online from now on.”
Qin Sizheng quickly nodded. “I will pay attention.”
Meng Zhen added, “Those who stay near vermilion are stained red; those near ink are stained black. Keeping some distance from Fourth Brother would not be a bad thing.”
Qin Sizheng did not have time to respond before someone beat him to it. “Too late. In a few days, I will have to make him even redder. Right, A Jing?”
Startled by the name, Qin Sizheng felt heat rise to his ears as he recalled that day’s “lesson.” Speaking rapidly, he said, “I am going to remove my makeup first,” and slipped away.
The post-production team for this promotional film consisted of professional CG technicians from the game company. Every frame was meticulously crafted. The final result astonished even Qin Sizheng himself.
The official account for Nine Swords released the video, and the new expansion pack stirred up another surge of excitement. Sheng Entertainment also issued a stern statement, declaring they would pursue certain marketing accounts that were stirring up trouble.
At the same time, the opening ceremony for Between Good and Evil was being prepared. Zhou Changjiang disliked online theatrics, and since this film was not particularly aligned with mainstream themes, they would not hold a live broadcast. Instead, the ceremony would be conducted as discreetly as possible.
Only a few reliable media outlets they had worked with before would be invited to take photographs, and video recording for public release would not be permitted.
Jiang Zhen had just been discharged from the hospital. Even the radio in the car was discussing the matter. Furious, he kicked the car door. “Can you turn it off? It is driving me crazy!”
Xu Shu grew irritated as well. “Whose fault is that? If you had not stirred up trouble, would this have happened?”
Jiang Zhen was speechless. It had indeed been his own reckless move. If he had known, he would not have leaked anything. Who would have thought the duck already in the pot could still fly away? When he saw the Nine Swords promotional film in the hospital, jealousy had nearly consumed him. Now Between Good and Evil was Qin Sizheng’s too!
Xu Shu said, “As for Qin Sizheng and that variety show, the Cute Kids production team is too embarrassed to approach him again. They will not send anyone to ask. They plan to have you replace him. I have already accepted on your behalf. You will join the recording in a few days.”
“I am not going!” Jiang Zhen exploded. The last time he filmed a role Qin Sizheng had rejected, he was already annoyed. Now he had to record a variety show Qin Sizheng had discarded?
“You think you can refuse just because you say so? Do you have your own studio? Have you won Best Actor? Last time I told you not to go, you insisted. You even went as a guest for a single day.”
Jiang Zhen could not explain that he had gone to attract Lu Xianqing. “Qin Sizheng is not recording anymore. Whoever goes to clean up this mess will get scolded. I am not going!”
Xu Shu said, “You are that afraid? I think you do not even need anyone to compare you. You already believe you are inferior to him.”
Jiang Zhen fell silent.
Xu Shu was fed up with his recent reckless behavior. He had worked hard to negotiate jobs and endorsements, only for Jiang Zhen to secretly ruin Zhou Changjiang’s film behind his back. He had also lost two endorsements and one magazine.
One endorsement had been for a light luxury brand, and the magazine had a high-end positioning. Now everything had reverted to nothing overnight, and he still dared to argue.
“You have indulged yourself long enough. If you continue like this, you can wait to be shelved. The company does not lack artists. I do not lack artists either. I can always promote someone obedient. In this era of traffic, as long as there is popularity, no one is irreplaceable. This variety show only approached you because you appeared in one episode before and they thought you were not bad. You will go whether you want to or not.”
Jiang Zhen understood this all too well. The entertainment industry was not what it used to be. There were not many irreplaceable figures like Lu Xianqing. Most were bubbles inflated by traffic. Fans liked several idols at once; if one fell, there was always another.
If he went three consecutive months without work, he might be forgotten.
“Fine. I will go.”
The official announcement for Taking Cute Kids Traveling revealed Jiang Zhen as a new guest, igniting another wave of discussion. Xu Shu tried every method to steer public opinion, but nothing could reverse the trend.
The production team did not care about anything except traffic. The fiercer the arguments, the happier they were. Jiang Zhen nearly smashed his new phone again, barely restraining himself. When his assistant handed him juice, he slapped it aside. “Do you have any sense? Do you think I can drink right now?”
Was it not said that once the narrative was guided, fans would lose their minds?
Jiang Zhen stared at the heated discussions online, each person analyzing the plot like a detective.
[In the previous season of Cute Kids, I already felt Jiang Zhen was fawning over Qin Sizheng. The host suggested he visit Wild Fox Village, but he insisted on sunbathing and fruit picking with Qin Sizheng. The attempt to ride the popularity wave was so obvious. A few days ago, when the hand photo scandal broke, someone suddenly leaked that he had joined Between Good and Evil. The director personally denied it. Now Qin Sizheng is not going to Cute Kids, but Jiang Zhen is. What a move.]
[Is this shabby variety show really worth fighting over? The timing of that leak was interesting, right when Nine Swords released the expansion. If it was not about grabbing the audition, could it be that Nine Swords replaced someone under pressure?]
[Wait, thinking about it more deeply, could that leak have come from Jiang Zhen’s team? Forcibly snatching a variety show from Qin Sizheng—this move is master level.]
The more Jiang Zhen read, the angrier he became. What had been a blunder was now being framed as him gaining an advantage.
Who wanted to record that ridiculous show? What he wanted was to join the production of Between Good and Evil and be desperately loved by Lu Xianqing—not pick up someone else’s leftovers and be compared to Qin Sizheng here!
He stared at the teacup on the table. In a fit of resolve, he smashed it, picked up a shard, and slashed at his wrist. Xu Shu nearly lost his mind. “What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?”
Jiang Zhen burst into tears, threw away the glass shard, and held up the shallow cut. “I am in so much pain. What is the point of living like this? Let me die. Let me die!”
Xu Shu slapped him. “Calm down!”
Accustomed to being adored by fans, Jiang Zhen had rarely even heard harsh words, let alone been struck. The slap almost made him lash out instinctively. He clenched his teeth and endured it, looking at Xu Shu in despair. “I never told you. I have a severe mental disorder. I have only been forcing myself to act optimistic. If this continues, I truly cannot hold on.”
Xu Shu did not believe a word. “Spare me the performance. You are going to that variety show. I have already accepted. If you refuse, you have two choices: pay the penalty and terminate your contract, or be shelved. Pick one.”
Jiang Zhen gritted his teeth. “I will go. But I want to see a psychologist. Help me make an appointment with Shen Qing.”
“Who is Shen Qing?” Xu Shu asked.
“A psychologist.”
Lu Xianqing’s psychologist.
—
Between Good and Evil was about to begin filming. Lu Xianqing went for his final counseling session to ensure that over the next three months he could maintain a relatively stable condition.
An Ning had mentioned changes in him, but she had not experienced them deeply. It was still necessary for Shen Qing to conduct a systematic evaluation.
He Xing had also noticed he had improved recently. He no longer spent all day thinking about dying. If he truly liked Qin Sizheng, she would accept it. At worst, she would go from managing one madman to managing two. It could not be harder than dealing with the previous Lu Xianqing.
Whenever Lu Xianqing attended counseling, He Xing would set aside even the most urgent matters. Afraid that An Ning might not convey things clearly, she insisted on hearing everything herself before feeling at ease.
An Ning was browsing the news in the car. Lu Xianqing seemed to have fallen asleep, his head covered with a jacket, motionless. After watching him for a while, she beckoned to He Xing and handed over her phone.
He Xing glanced at it. Jiang Zhen hospitalized again due to mental health issues!
An Ning whispered, “This industry really is something. He seemed mild-tempered on the variety show. Who would have thought he had such problems? I wonder if it will affect his career. After all, not everyone is…” She trailed off and pointed at Lu Xianqing.
He Xing returned the phone and said quietly, “Do not mention this in front of him. It is good they are not filming together this time. He has finally stabilized. We do not want him affected again. Do not bring up that name around him.”
An Ning nodded and deleted the browsing history.
When the car stopped downstairs, He Xing received a call and told them to go up first.
Shen Qing was flipping through files with his head lowered. Hearing a knock, he said “Come in” without looking up. Being familiar with Lu Xianqing, he did not bother with formalities and casually added, “Please sit.”
Lu Xianqing sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and propped his forehead on one hand, looking at him. “Hey.”
Shen Qing looked up, adjusted his glasses, and put on a gentle smile, pouring him a cup of tea and setting it before him. “Please relax. Let us talk.”
Lu Xianqing scoffed. “Skip the unnecessary steps. Is this a blind date?”
A twitch flickered at Shen Qing’s brow. He had never met such an uncooperative patient. Yet this time there was a difference in his state. Shen Qing glanced at An Ning, who made a small hand gesture.
He understood. Lu Xianqing might have fallen in love.
“Let me see the script this time,” Shen Qing said.
An Ning handed it over. Shen Qing flipped through it, surprised. “He Xing actually dared to let him take on this kind of role? Does she trust me, trust him, or is she planning to change bosses?”
This time, the role he was to play was that of a patient with schizophrenia, manifesting in sensitivity and suspicion, disturbances of sleep, perception, and cognition, visual hallucinations, slowed thinking, illogical reasoning, and impaired volition and behavior.
Lu Xianqing’s own condition was already severe. Taking on this role would be like stacking a pyramid on top of an already precarious mental state. Patients with schizophrenia rarely recognize that they are ill, and usually do not seek help voluntarily.
Over the years, although Lu Xianqing’s condition had been concerning, he at least acknowledged that he was unwell, sought help, and accepted treatment. If he finished this film and convinced himself that he was “fine,” would all the years of effort have been in vain?
Was it him who had grown weary of life—or He Xing?
“Can this shoot be postponed?” Shen Qing asked.
An Ning said, “Take a careful look.”
Shen Qing set the script down and studied Lu Xianqing’s profile, the faint smile at the corner of his lips. To his surprise, unlike before entering a film set, Lu Xianqing’s mind did not appear to be overtaken by the character this time.
Shen Qing relaxed slightly and let out a self-deprecating smile. “It’s not due to my exceptional skill, then… could it be because of Qin Sizheng?”
An Ning nodded.
“Explain.”
Lu Xianqing propped his head with his hand. “He’s like a little clown.”
…?
Was that really how one describes someone they like?
Shen Qing asked him more questions. Over the long hour, he could see how Lu Xianqing’s psychological anchor was gradually shifting toward Qin Sizheng—something that, in itself, was not necessarily good.
Right now, he was like the “Fourth Brother” in the first movie, attempting to guide him toward the light. Though painful, he persisted.
But one day, if that light went out, Lu Xianqing might lose all will to live. If the light were to shine on someone else, who knew whether he might become like the “Fourth Brother,” full of love, yet capable of killing for it.
“Fourth Brother, my advice is—don’t treat Qin Sizheng like a medicine. You’ll get addicted. If one day he’s gone, you won’t survive the withdrawal.”
Lu Xianqing responded with a soft, “I understand.”
Shen Qing thought for a moment, then added, “Your current mental state is stable enough to take this role. But you must be careful not to transfer too much of yourself into it. Keep taking your medicine on schedule, and contact me immediately if anything comes up.”
Lu Xianqing stood up, brushing his fingertips along the edge of the table, accidentally knocking over a file. He bent down to pick it up, the loose pages scattering across the floor. “Just you—”
His words cut off abruptly. Shen Qing waited for the rest, only to see Lu Xianqing breathing rapidly. Like a man possessed, he smashed the vase on the edge of the table, hands clutching his neck, curling in on himself.
“Fourth Brother!” An Ning and Shen Qing screamed in unison. He Xing rushed in, pale, and lunged for Lu Xianqing’s hands. “Fourth Brother, wake up!”
Lu Xianqing trembled violently, eyes unfocused. His hands tightened around his neck as if he could not feel the pain.
He Xing, terrified he would choke himself to death, cried. “Fourth Brother, let go! You’ll kill yourself!” She yelled at Shen Qing, tears streaming. “Do something! You’re the doctor—why are you just standing there?”
Shen Qing saw the photo on the floor. He had just finished a session with a PTSD police officer who had witnessed his comrades being tortured and killed before his eyes. He knew the officer’s psychological condition intimately. He had always known Lu Xianqing was afraid of corpses—but he had not realized that seeing a crime scene could shake him like this. It resembled PTSD, with subtle differences.
An Ning alternated frantically between calling “Fourth Brother” and “Sister Xingxing,” her forehead drenched in sweat.
Shen Qing, with stronger hands, held Lu Xianqing’s and softened his tone. “It’s okay. This is filming a movie. You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Lu Xianqing, look into my eyes. Look at me.”
Lu Xianqing seemed not to hear. Shen Qing tirelessly guided him, over and over: “This is all fake. None of it is real. It has nothing to do with you.”
His breathing quivered. Shen Qing spoke rapidly. “Bring the video of Qin Sizheng.”
An Ning, shaking, found the variety show cut and handed it over. Shen Qing held it before Lu Xianqing’s eyes, like a desperate lifeline: “Look here. Right here.”
On screen, the young boy shone with sunlight and innocence, shouting from afar: “Fourth Brother.”
Lu Xianqing’s pupils constricted. Slowly, he loosened his grip. Shen Qing exhaled in relief and continued soothing him quietly. “Slow your breathing. Listen to me…”
His hour-long session had been undone in three hours by this single image. Shen Qing’s own heart had been in his throat the entire time.
An Ning accompanied Lu Xianqing downstairs once he had calmed. Shen Qing stayed behind with He Xing. “I suspect this is a shadow in his mind. It’s probably the source of his psychological issues. Do you know if he’s experienced something like this before?”
He Xing did not know. She paused to think. “I’ll find a way. I’ll let you know if there’s any news.”