[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-more-tragic-i-act-the-stronger-i-get-my-fans":3,"chapter-the-more-tragic-i-act-the-stronger-i-get-my-fans-the-more-tragic-i-act-the-stronger-i-get-my-fans-chapter-260":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1297924,1723,"Chapter 260: I'm not taking this script!","the-more-tragic-i-act-the-stronger-i-get-my-fans-chapter-260",260,"\u003Cp>The thick door panel completely isolated the film set's noise and heat waves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside a conference room at a high-end hotel under the Hengdian complex,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>the air conditioning was cranked up high, yet it couldn't disperse the stagnant atmosphere in the slightest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Producer Zhang Wang had fine beads of sweat seeping from his forehead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the main seat, Yan Zheng sat upright like an old pine tree, his figure lean but his presence as steady as a mountain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind him, his two young assistants wore expressions—one tense, the other feigning composure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci sat opposite them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was still draped in that oversized military coat, covering the terrifying \"wounds\" from the scene.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked as if he had just been dragged straight out of a cold, damp interrogation room,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Zheng didn't beat around the bush. His slender fingers gently pushed a document across the redwood table towards Jiang Ci.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the cover were four bold, printed characters in black.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Nameless Monument.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The script outline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci reached out and picked it up; the paper felt somewhat cold to the touch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He flipped through it page by page.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The story began with his father, Jiang Yanjun, joining the police force, recounting his outstanding merits and fearless bravery all the way.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The \"Jiang Yanjun\" in the script was always on the front lines, always right, and never knew what fear was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was like a perfect symbol, a meticulously polished, walking textbook.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the final \"Operation Thunderbolt,\" he covered the safe retreat of all his teammates.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alone, with one gun, like a God of War descending, he blocked all the bullets pouring in from every direction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci's gaze lingered on the script's ending.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That line of bolded text was like a tombstone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Amidst stirring background music, the hero slowly falls. His body forges an immortal monument.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci's page-turning movements grew slower and slower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The conference room was so quiet that only the faint rustle of turning pages remained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The more he read, the tighter his brows, which had relaxed from exhaustion, furrowed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hero in this script was perfect, like a mannequin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The father in his memory wasn't like this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His father was a living, breathing person.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would clumsily peel an apple for him before a mission, one that could never be peeled clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would fall into a long, guilty silence on the phone after missing a parent-teacher conference.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would secretly tuck a letter inside an old dictionary in his study, a letter never sent, filled with hopes and apologies for his son.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would fear death. He would miss home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He never shouted those earth-shaking slogans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci closed the script outline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Tap.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A soft sound echoed abruptly in the conference room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This script, I won't take it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci knew this ending might harvest Heartbreak Value.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But such a hollow symbol, he disdained to portray.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Producer Zhang Wang nearly sprang from his chair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Zheng's square-jawed face still showed little expression.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the younger assistant beside him couldn't contain himself, his face flushing with offended anger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Jiang Ci, what kind of attitude is this? A script personally written by Teacher Yan—countless people would break their heads trying to get a role.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci ignored him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't even spare him a glance from the corner of his eye.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He just looked at Yan Zheng in the main seat and repeated earnestly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Too fake.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"My dad was a man, not a god.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci's gaze fell on the script outline on the table,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>but what surfaced in his mind was the young, black-and-white photo on the tombstone that would never smile again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"When he died, he was hit by six bullets. There was no background music, only the mud and blood of the Golden Triangle around him.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The temperature in the conference room plummeted to freezing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Zheng's assistant was left speechless by these words, his face alternating between pale and flushed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He argued almost instinctively, \"Teacher Jiang, this is artistic creation! We need a perfect heroic image to give the audience strength!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"False perfection,\" Jiang Ci's voice carried a chill,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>he extended a finger and tapped the script, \"only makes people feel that sacrifice is something cheap.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Jiang Ci!\" Producer Zhang Wang finally couldn't sit still any longer,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>he lowered his voice, carrying a pleading tone, \"Calm down, this is Teacher Yan...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Right then.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The phone in Jiang Ci's pocket abruptly lit up and vibrated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He casually took it out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the screen was a push notification from a news app.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The words in the title stabbed sharply into his pupils.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Regarding the employment of some morally deficient artists...]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci's finger subconsciously tapped it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After reading the main text, he scrolled to the comments section.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That small area, segmented by data, was a carnival of humanity's ugliest depravity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Something scalding rushed into Jiang Ci's brain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those twisted words seemed to come alive,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>warping and deforming before his eyes, finally coalescing into grinning, indifferent faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought of the cold photo on his father's tombstone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought of those uncles and aunts who visited their home after his father's sacrifice,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>who had also lost husbands, lost sons,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>their faces worn flat by grief and the weight of life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought of those young lives forever left on the borderlines,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>so that the so-called \"idols\" in these people's mouths could sit comfortably at home \"de-stressing.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Thud!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A dull sound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci threw the phone, screen up, onto the polished conference table.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The phone slid a distance across the glossy surface, hit the teacup in front of Yan Zheng with a crisp clink, and finally stopped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the screen, those comments defending drug addicts\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>were like the filthiest sludge, clearly visible to everyone present.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Zheng looked at that still-glowing screen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On his face, which had remained steady throughout, the color was slowly draining away, finally turning ashen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As an older-generation cultural worker who had dedicated his life to mainstream thematic creation,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>he loathed this kind of twisted public opinion more than anyone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Teacher Yan, look.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci stood up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pointed at the phone screen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This is our current public opinion environment.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Do you think, if you make a film singing praises, these people will watch it?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"They won't.\" Jiang Ci's words struck at the heart,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"They'll just find it boring, think it's preaching, then turn around and defend their 'idols,'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>and mock those who truly took bullets for them!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two assistants behind Yan Zheng even forgot to breathe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every word from Jiang Ci stabbed deeply into the most awkward, most powerless sore spot of current cultural creation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If we're going to make it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Ci's voice wasn't loud, yet it easily overwhelmed all the heartbeats in the conference room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Then don't make some grand, glorious, and righteous film.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked directly at Yan Zheng, whose face was ashen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Teacher Yan, dare to make a big bet with me?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Let's make a film... that gives all drug addicts and their apologists nightmares.\"\u003C\u002Fp>",1168,"2026-06-05T18:00:08.557Z",1,"novelbin.me","4631e01fcdf2553e601e265b51a623ba0c95b227e98a6c59621fb32cb96b31e1","the-more-tragic-i-act-the-stronger-i-get-my-fans-chapter-261","the-more-tragic-i-act-the-stronger-i-get-my-fans-chapter-259",366,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-more-tragic-i-act-the-stronger-i-get-my-fans-cover.jpg"]