The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles

Chapter 118: The Ultimate “Blade Work”



Chapter 118: The Ultimate “Blade Work”

The silver screen froze in wind and snow.

The plot gave the audience no chance to catch their breath.

The scene shifted, and it was already deep night.

In the heavily guarded enemy camp, torchlight swayed wildly in the wind, cutting human shadows into fragments.

A dark figure, like a ghost, crept along the shadows of the tents.

It was General, played by Jiang Ci.

At this moment, he was not a general; he was an assassin with only one goal.

The hearts of everyone in the screening room leaped into their throats.

They watched that solitary, desperate figure on the screen.

The killing intent was on the verge of erupting.At that very moment, the curtain of the commander's tent ahead of him was gently lifted by a pale, delicate hand.

A woman in white, dressed in enemy nation attire, walked out carrying a basin of water.

The moonlight illuminated her face.

It was the Princess.

Whoosh—

A collective, sharp intake of breath echoed through the screening room.

How could it be her?

Why was she here?!

The camera on the silver screen abruptly zoomed in on General Gu, played by Jiang Ci.

A massive face filled the entire frame.

Clear cracks appeared on that face, already hardened and indifferent by the wind and snow.

His entire body shuddered violently.

The Princess across from him was also frightened by the sudden appearance of the dark figure. The bronze basin in her hands crashed to the ground with a loud clang, water splashing everywhere.

Their eyes met.

The real drama had arrived.

In General Gu's eyes on the screen, the first layer of change appeared.

[Affection].

The ice in his eyes instantly melted, turning into the softest spring water.

All the sharp edges frozen on his face by war and hatred completely crumbled the moment he saw that face.

He was no longer General Gu.

He had reverted to that youth, A'Gu, who would stop on the grassland because of a stray lock of her hair.

"Heavens..."

A low exclamation from a girl in the back row was fiercely muffled in her mouth.

Their hearts were struck by this sudden tenderness. The tension and unease that had just risen were instantly replaced by an aching sweetness.

Perhaps... there was still a chance?

However, this tenderness lasted less than a second.

The second layer of emotion crashed down.

[Struggle].

The spring water instantly froze back into ice. A deeper pain surged forth, completely washing over and covering that last remnant of warmth.

He was a General of Great Xia.

Meeting again, she had become the Princess of the enemy nation.

Between them lay national hatred, family enmity, and the bones of thousands of his comrades.

This love was an original sin.

Immediately followed by the third layer.

[Reluctance].

His lips moved slightly, his Adam's apple bobbed. It seemed he wanted to call out that name carved into his bones, but ultimately, no sound escaped.

That heavy reluctance almost overflowed from the screen, pressing down on everyone's hearts.

In the darkness of the screening room, a young female journalist could no longer hold back. She suddenly raised a hand to cover her own mouth, not wanting her sobs to escape.

Yet her shoulders trembled violently, uncontrollably.

She felt it as if she were there.

She was that Princess standing under the moonlight, watching helplessly as her lover was about to abandon her forever.

It hurt too much.

Watching beauty being torn apart by one's own hands hurt too much.

And the cruelest part was the fourth layer.

[Killing Intent].

All the previous affection, struggle, and reluctance were completely drained away in that instant.

The General wanted to utterly crush the past, to kill and bury along with it the part of himself that still loved her!

Finally, he looked at the Princess one last time.

That look was hollow. Cold.

Inside the screening room, a deathly silence fell.

The critical film critic Zhang Rui sat rigidly against the back of her seat, her mouth slightly agape.

In her twenty-year career, she had reviewed countless films boasting of great acting.

Yet she had never seen such terrifying control of micro-expressions.

Less than ten seconds.

Four layers of emotion progression.

A youth died. A General was born.

Not a single line of dialogue, yet it said everything.

Front row.

Qin Feng leaned forward slightly. He turned his head and whispered in an almost inaudible breath to the director Li Xiang beside him.

"That kid... he's made it."

Li Xiang clenched the armrests in excitement, not responding, just staring fixedly at the screen.

On the screen, General Gu turned away with finality.

His retreating figure held not a trace of lingering attachment, quickly disappearing into the vast night.

Leaving only the Princess alone, kneeling in the cold puddle of water, tears streaming down her face.

That unrestrained, bright youth in white from the grassland was completely buried at this moment.

The scene cut sharply.

A lone city.

The setting sun was like blood.

Deafening battle cries rose from below the city walls.

The camera pulled back, revealing a dark mass of enemy troops, surrounding the small city so tightly not even water could pass through.

The camera pushed in again.

On top of the city gate tower.

General Gu leaned on a broken long spear, barely supporting his body.

The once majestic Black Iron Armor he wore was now tattered and torn. Several arrows were embedded in his body.

Blood gushed out, dyeing the ground beneath his feet a dark red.

He was at the end of his rope.

The hearts of the audience in the screening room sank to the bottom.

They sensed the ending, yet clung to a sliver of unrealistic hope.

On the screen.

General Gu moved.

He threw away the broken spear and, with an extremely slow and difficult posture, walked towards the massive war drum at the center of the gate tower.

He bared his teeth, as if trying to smile.

But it tugged at the wounds on his face.

He slowly raised the heavy drumstick.

In the screening room, everyone's hearts were at their highest point.

This was... the final farewell.

"THUMP!!!"

A dull drumbeat sounded. No musical score embellished it; it was just the rawest impact of wood against hide.

Yet it slammed hard into every viewer's heart.

Immediately after.

The drumbeats became dense, frantic.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Filled with unyielding will and tragic proclamation.

With every fall of the drumstick, his wounds split open, blood splattering.

His movements grew slower and slower, his strength draining rapidly.

But the drumbeats never stopped.

And it was at this moment.

Every time the blood-soaked figure on the screen swung the drumstick.

The scene would instantly cut to a single frame of a sweet memory from the grassland.

His blood-stained hand, raised high.

The screen flashed.

It was the youth's clean, slender hand, tucking a stray hair behind the Princess's temple.

"THUMP!"

The drumbeat deafened.

His face, twisted in agony, blood-flecked foam seeping from between his gritted teeth.

The screen flashed again.

It was his brilliant, dazzling smile directed at the Princess under the sunlight.

"THUMP! THUMP!"

The drumbeats hastened death.

The blood gushing from his mouth stained the armor on his chest.

The screen shattered.

It was the promise he whispered to her on the grassland.

"I only want 'now'."

One frame of sweetness, one frame of a blade.

The sweeter the memory, the more cruel the reality.

"Woo..."

Sobs suppressed to the extreme finally broke out, one after another, in every corner of the screening room.

In the VIP seats at the front.

Su Qingying sat upright, motionless.

She watched the man on the screen, tormented repeatedly by memory and reality, still fighting desperately in a pool of blood in his final moments.

A single, clear teardrop finally slipped uncontrollably from the corner of her eye.

At this moment, she was not Su Qingying.

She was that Princess who had forever lost her young General.

The drumbeats gradually thinned out.

Slower and slower, softer and softer.

On the screen, General Gu's life reached its end.

His pupils began to lose focus.

In his final moments of fading consciousness, he used his last shred of strength to look in the direction of the capital.

In that blurred vision, time and space overlapped.

He seemed to see that vast grassland again, to see that girl in a white dress, waiting for him on horseback to come home.

He wanted to smile one more time.

But he no longer had the strength.

The heavy drumstick slipped powerlessly from his hand.

"Clang."

His tall, imposing body slowly slid down along the cold war drum and collapsed.

The drumbeats ceased abruptly.


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