Chapter 51 - 2#
To Yan Zijing, anyone who commits domestic violence should be dead and gone from this world!
He wasn’t doing something evil—he was doing something good! Saving those innocent wives and children, and also saving his own powerless childhood self!
The filming continued.
Jing Shun, playing Yan Zijing, grew more and more unhinged as he spoke. Suddenly, the hand gripping the utility knife lifted.
Some criminal police officers mistakenly thought he was about to stab the little girl in his arms. Their nerves taut, they fired without hesitation.
—Bang!
Almost at the same time, Ling Zhuo swiftly pulled the little girl away from Yan Zijing’s embrace.
Yue Qiao’an glanced at the still-smoking muzzle of the officer beside him, his expression shifting. “Who authorized you to fire?!”
“…”
The blood pack already strapped to Yan Zijing’s abdomen burst open in real time.
Jing Shun felt a scorching heat on his skin, but he had no time to dwell on the pain. Following the script, he maneuvered the electric wheelchair and rammed it hard into Fu Changting.
Clang!
Fu Changting, who had been on guard, dodged in time, while Jing Shun and his wheelchair went completely out of control, crashing to the ground.
Some crew members were stunned. “Holy shit! Teacher Xiao Jing actually fell for real!”
“I feel like the wheelchair really was out of control that time—he fell even harder than during rehearsal!”
“…”
At the monitor, Chi Gui’s breath stopped, his life seemingly halved. He gripped the chair arm so tightly that it was the only thing keeping him from losing control and rushing out.
Not only were the people by the monitor dumbfounded, even Fu Changting, who was closest to Jing Shun, panicked for a split second!
But Jing Shun remained immersed in the role—
He clutched the blood pack that was steadily seeping from his abdomen, holding his breath for a short time to force a flush onto his face.
A glimmer of light, like an imminent release, flickered in his death-driven eyes.
One second, two seconds, three seconds—
Director Zheng Chun’an confirmed Jing Shun’s state. Hardening his heart, he didn’t call “cut” but decisively picked up the walkie-talkie:
“Keep going! A cam, push in! D cam, follow! Start the sprinkler truck!”
Plop.
Large raindrops began to fall.
Yan Zijing could no longer return to the wheelchair. Ignoring the gun muzzles still aimed at him, he gritted his teeth in a bitter smile and dragged his heavy body, crawling to his feet.
Through the fabric, the rough cement floor scraped his skin painfully, but he showed no sign of stopping.
No one understood what Yan Zijing was doing. They only saw the blood trailing from his abdomen as it spread, gradually dispersing under the rain like a life-painted ink wash.
Ling Zhuo crouched down, shielding the little girl, carefully checking her face. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
The little girl shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt. Big brother already put medicine on me.”
“What?”
Through the gap formed by the criminal police team, the little girl looked at Yan Zijing on the ground.
She wanted to run over and help him, but Ling Zhuo held her back. “It’s dangerous! Don’t go over there!”
The little girl didn’t understand why it was dangerous. She just said, “Auntie didn’t like me, and Daddy would hit and scold me. Big brother took me away. He brought me here to see Mommy.”
“He also said his mommy lives here too.”
“…”
The most innocent words laid out the truth.
So the little girl wasn’t a hostage at all—she was a victim of domestic violence rescued by Yan Zijing.
At the same time, Yue Qiao’an received a phone call from the police station. “Brother Yue, Yan Zijing’s mother died six years ago, but the truth isn’t the recorded death from heart disease!”
“It was Yan Xiangnan, who, after being released from prison, terrorized her repeatedly, causing her severe schizophrenia to relapse. In a panic, she stabbed herself in the heart with a knife and committed suicide. She’s now buried in the Jiangdu Western Suburb Cemetery!”
“…”
With mixed feelings, Yue Qiao’an signaled the criminal police to lower their guns.
At the end of the road, a lonely tombstone stood in a corner. Less than ten meters away, Yan Zijing had used up all his strength.
“Mom.”
Yan Zijing collapsed before the grave, his vision gradually blurring.
He stretched out his trembling fingertips, stained with blood that could no longer be washed clean, and reached out little by little to touch the tombstone.
“Mom, this is the last time I’ll come to see you. I… I’m going to hell now.”
“That’s fine. In the next life, don’t let me come to this world again. This life of mine has been so bitter, so painful.”
“The nightmare… can finally… end.”
The rain washed everything away.
Only a blurred blood swallow remained on the tombstone, like Yan Zijing’s rough, clipped wings—a life of captivity and no freedom.
…
Although this big scene was shot in one long take, several detail shots were reshot after the first round.
By the time Zheng Chun’an officially confirmed it was a wrap, another two hours had passed.
Yu Zhen, who was quite conscientious as an assistant, rushed over first and pushed his friend back into a private rest room.
“Geez, Director Zheng always seems so easygoing on a normal day, but when it comes to filming, he’s so strict?”
“Good thing it’s summer. You crawled and got soaked on that cement floor for two hours! Even I felt my heart clench!”
Yu Zhen handed a brewed ginger tea packet to Jing Shun, still shaken. “Drink a couple of sips to warm up!”
Jing Shun sniffed the pungent aroma of the ginger tea and pretended to take a sip. “I’ll go change out of these wet clothes first! I’ll drink it later!”
“Right, right!” Yu Zhen quickly added, “The clean clothes are already in the changing room. The hot water in the basin was just poured—it should be just the right temperature. Do you need help?”
Jing Shun pushed his wheelchair inside. “It’s fine, I can handle it myself.”
He pulled the curtain.
Jing Shun quickly stripped off his wet clothes and used a warm towel to dry his abdomen.
As expected, there was a small red burn mark where the “blood pack” had been. It wasn’t serious.
What was more noticeable were the scrapes on both knees. The spots that had been bleeding slightly had been soaked for too long, now turning white.
“…”
Jing Shun lightly touched them, wincing at the pain.
He hadn’t felt it while immersed in the role, but now that he was out of character and had noticed the injuries, it really did hurt.
“I was wearing pants, so how did this happen?”
“Jing Shun, what are you muttering about?”
“Nothing.”
Jing Shun didn’t want his friend to worry. “Yu Zhen, could you go get me something to eat? I’m feeling a bit hungry.”
“Got it!”
Just as Chi Gui found the rest room where Jing Shun was, he saw Yu Zhen running off in another direction in a hurry, as if on an urgent errand.
Chi Gui didn’t think much of it. He was about to knock on the rest room door when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Mr. Chi?”
“…”
Chi Gui turned around to see Fu Changting also standing at the door of the rest room.
Their eyes met, and both noticed the ointment in each other’s hands—clearly meant for Jing Shun.
Fu Changting stood half a meter away from Chi Gui. “What brings Mr. Chi here? I thought you were a friend of Director Zheng. Are you also close with Xiao Jing?”
Chi Gui didn’t bother with hints. “Thank you for taking care of Shunshun during this time, Teacher Fu.”
A pointed remark that asserted sovereignty right in front of Fu Changting.
No matter what the actual relationship between him and Jing Shun was, within the term of their agreement, they were outwardly “lovers.”
“…”
Fu Changting’s grip on the ointment tightened, seemingly unsurprised by this answer.
Back when Dong Qiheng’s rumor war with Jing Shun erupted, the latter had crumbled and vanished in no time. Fu Changting had secretly asked his agent to investigate—
Behind the scenes, it was the Chi Corporation that had pressured Dong Qiheng’s backer.
After all, there were never any real secrets between the capital circle and the entertainment industry.
Even though Chi Gui had kept a tight lid on external information, some things, just because they weren’t spread, didn’t mean no one knew.
Fu Changting’s gaze passed over Chi Gui to the closed rest room door.
Since the day Jing Shun had honestly admitted he had a lover, that hidden thread in Fu Changting’s heart had already been snapped. But he had been curious all along—what kind of person was Jing Shun’s lover?
Now, the speculated figure stood before him.
“I’ve always seen Xiao Jing as a younger brother. I won’t do anything to put him in a difficult position,” Fu Changting explained first. “I hope Mr. Chi won’t misunderstand.”
Chi Gui didn’t bring up the jealousy from a while ago. He gave a barely perceptible nod, but said sincerely, “Still, thank you, Teacher Fu. He’s very happy to be part of The Trace.”
Fu Changting replied bluntly, “Xiao Jing is a born actor. If it weren’t for…”
If it weren’t for his family and his legs, he would have been shining in the entertainment circle long ago.
Fu Changting didn’t finish, but Chi Gui understood.
“His legs can get better. As long as he wants to, he can keep standing in front of the camera in the future.”
“…”
Fu Changting didn’t doubt Chi Gui’s capital or ability, and he knew he had no right to say more. “In that case, I won’t disturb you.”
He looked at the medicine bag in Chi Gui’s hand, which was more or less the same as his own, and only said, “Mr. Chi, take good care of him.”
Better yet—make sure there’s never a chance for him to step in.
Smart people’s conversations stop at subtle hints.
Chi Gui understood the unspoken implication. His gaze sharpened as a sense of crisis resurfaced.
Only after confirming that Fu Changting had left did he knock on the rest room door.
Jing Shun had just come out of the changing room. “Come in.”
Seeing Chi Gui, he was a little surprised. “Why are you here?”
Chi Gui glanced at the still-steaming ginger tea packet on the table, guessed that Jing Shun didn’t like it, and handed him the thermos he’d brought along.
“No jasmine tea today—just warm water. Have a drink first.”
With that, he crouched down in front of Jing Shun. “Roll up your pant legs and let me see.”
“…”
Jing Shun froze. “Huh?”
Recalling the moment earlier when his heart nearly exploded, Chi Gui frowned again. “Let me see if you’re hurt from the fall.”
Jing Shun tried to hide it, feeling a little guilty. “I’m fine. I already checked—there’s no problem.”
Chi Gui looked up, a hint of barely concealed possessiveness in his eyes. “Are you going to roll up your pant legs yourself, or should I do it?”
Jing Shun resigned himself. “Fine, have a look.”
The next second, Chi Gui moved.
He gently rolled up the lightweight pant leg, revealing the scrapes on both knees. Jing Shun’s skin was very pale, making any injury look all the more jarring.
Chi Gui’s gaze darkened, and he held his breath without saying a word.
Jing Shun watched his expression. “Why aren’t you saying anything? I’m fine, it’s just a little skin-deep…”
“Jing Shun.”
Chi Gui met his eyes, speaking without any restraint or concealment. “Can you stop getting hurt? I worry.”