novelraw Chapter 146: The BE Aesthetic King’s “Sunshine Trap”
Chapter 146: The BE Aesthetic King’s “Sunshine Trap”
Jiang Ci smiled and told Lin Wan he had no problem, then they ended the conversation.
He then stared at the 1,048 days remaining on his system panel and fell into thought.
Director Hou’s olive branch was a tremendous opportunity, but what the hell did it mean to be the face of a “healing smile”?
He opened his phone and typed “Lang Feng” into the search bar.
Photos of male models wearing all kinds of bright, casual outfits popped up on the screen.
Instantly, an image formed in Jiang Ci’s head of himself in a pink shirt, forcing a wide grin in front of the camera.
A wordless chill shot up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.
That feeling was worse than playing a character who dies before dawn.
But Jiang Ci had no reason to refuse.
As an actor, getting endorsements had once been one of those dreams that felt out of reach.Besides, Lin Wan had worried herself sick over him, handling everything from the script to the team personally.
He couldn’t just keep enjoying top-tier service and not create any real value for the company.
He had to make his boss some money.
You don’t just soak up services without doing the work.
His thoughts drifted to the endorsement fee rumored to be close to seven figures.
A promise crystallized, utterly clear in his mind.
Buy Ms. Chu a new big house.
The instant that thought appeared, the chill he’d been feeling subsided.
Although the job was a bit... tricky.
But it was only smiling, right?
He had played roles far more twisted, far more painful than this.
Jiang Ci opened a map app and started his “virtual house-hunting” journey.
First, he crossed out the two glittering metropolises on the screen, the capital and the Magic City, without hesitation.
What a joke.
The housing prices there were absurd.
Any random unit would make this endorsement fee not even enough for the down payment.
Become capital’s chump?
Only if there were a string of countless zeros after his bank balance.
His finger slid across the screen until his gaze settled on a region.
Rong City.
He immediately pictured steaming hotpot and mahjong clacking on every street corner.
“Rong City’s great, lots of good food, slow pace of life...” he muttered, almost ready to mark it as his top choice.
But then another thought popped up.
If he never got a girlfriend, what if Ms. Chu thinks he’s just some scruffy bearded guy? That would be bad.
No, that idea was too dangerous.
Forget it.
His finger kept dragging, sweeping across half the map, and stopped at a southern city, Flower City.
For many young people born in small southern counties, the coming-of-age at eighteen meant a green train ticket south to Flower City.
He had once yearned for Flower City too.
But when he opened the weather forecast and saw that bright row of red temperature numbers, the tiny spark of nostalgia evaporated instantly.
“Nope, too hot.”
“Before I can act a tragic role to extend my life, I’d physically rise to heaven.”
He did not want Ms. Chu spending every day at home researching how to brew cooling herbal tea.
In the end, his finger circled a city neither too far nor too close to home.
Star City.
Close enough to his hometown, just a two-hour drive.
Prices reasonable, and that seven-figure endorsement would be enough to pay all cash for a nice large flat here.
The climate was pleasant, not as extreme as Flower City.
“This is it.”
Jiang Ci nodded in satisfaction.
Buy a big flat, decorate it comfortably.
Then whenever he wanted to go home, he could.
While he was immersed in thoughts of buying a house, Sun Zhou burst in like a gust of wind, waving a freshly printed folder in his hand.
“Ci-ge! Director Lin asked me to print this and bring it to you!”
He handed the documents to Jiang Ci, face brimming with uncontrollable excitement.
“Lang Feng’s brand dossier! Look, the brand tone is amazing!”
Sun Zhou jabbed at the bold characters on the front page, spitting enthusiasm.
“Sunny, positive, uplifting!”
Jiang Ci expressionlessly took the dossier.
He opened to the first page and saw promotional photos of male models smiling brighter than the sun.
He flipped through the pages.
A massive brand slogan assaulted his eyes.
“Light up the world with a smile.”
Jiang Ci felt the muscles in his face begin a slight, involuntary tremor.
Sun Zhou didn’t notice his artist’s inner torment at all, still lost in boundless joy, gushing excitedly.
“Ci-ge, this is a great chance!”
“All your previous roles were too tragic, too heavy.”
“This endorsement with Lang Feng is perfect to flip everyone’s impression of you!”
“Let the fans see our Ci isn’t just a tragic actor, he’s super healing when he smiles!”
Jiang Ci listened in silence.
Every word Sun Zhou spoke felt like it stabbed the little heart he’d forced himself to make sad to survive.
Sun Zhou went on, unstoppable.
“And it’s a national brand! Massive audience! Once the ad goes live, you’ll instantly—”
Jiang Ci needed time to digest this “sunshine trap.”
Sun Zhou suddenly remembered something and leaned close, lowering his voice.
“The brand also had a small request...”
“To help ramp up brand buzz, within a week of signing, you’ll need to post a daily-life smiling selfie on your personal Weibo.”
Jiang Ci froze, dossier still in his hand.
...
With the Hongmen Feast scenes wrapped, the core tasks for Group A dropped sharply.
The production’s focus shifted quickly to Group B, mainly filming how Liu Bang, played by Qin Feng, escapes with his life, endures humiliation, and gathers strength.
By rights, Jiang Ci could have left the crew for a break.
But he didn’t, and became the set’s oddest fixture.
Every day, he could be found at Group B’s set.
He would set up a small folding stool, wear a baseball cap, and sit quietly behind the monitor, clearly there for the whole day.
Besides watching veteran actors like Qin Feng perform, most of Jiang Ci’s remaining time was spent with one other person.
Zhao Yingfei.
They didn’t gossip, they didn’t flirt, they barely even exchanged pleasantries.
They always found the quietest corner of the set, under a withered tree or behind a broken wall.
Each with a well-thumbed script, they repeated the lines from The Farewell My Concubine again and again.
Their rehearsal method was downright strange.
There was no tender, lingering eye contact.
Often someone would suddenly stop mid-recitation with no warning.
Then followed a long silence.
Jiang Ci would close his eyes, brow slightly furrowed, as if bearing a crushing weight alone.
Zhao Yingfei would stare blankly at the dim, gray-yellow skyline, her gaze empty, her soul seemingly adrift.
They used silence to explore the sense of an end.
In the mute pause, they searched for that resonance beyond life and death.
Once, they stayed silent for nearly ten minutes.
Even the wind felt loud.
Zhao Yingfei finally couldn’t help herself and asked softly, “What are you thinking?”
Jiang Ci opened his eyes.
There was none of the clarity a man his age should have; instead there was a pallid defeat.
“When an empire you built with your own hands collapses inch by inch before your eyes, everyone betrays you... what is left in your head?”
The mountain that had broken Xiang Yu’s back pressed heavily on Jiang Ci’s chest at that moment.
Zhao Yingfei froze.
She looked at Jiang Ci’s face, far too young yet laden with weight, and suddenly understood.
She didn’t answer, instead posing a question.
“If, on this shattered land, only one beautiful thing could remain... what would you want it to be?”
Jiang Ci remained silent.
The conversation ended there.
But from each other’s eyes, they saw the same thing.
A burning obsession that belonged to both genius and lunatic.
This odd way of being together, of course, didn’t escape the many eyes on set.
Rumors rolled across the crew like tumbleweed in the Gobi Desert.
“See that? Jiang Ci and Zhao Yingfei are together again.”
“These two are definitely up to something, look at the aura—ten-meter radius no strangers allowed.”
“Must be falling in love because of the drama; to play Xiang Yu and Yu Ji you have to go all-in.”
“I think the company is tying them together to hype it—pretty boy and beautiful girl, great for buzz.”
Assistant Sun Zhou anxiously reported these whispers to Jiang Ci.
“Ci-ge, do you want to clear things up on set?”
Jiang Ci was holding his phone, intently studying the floor plan of a Star City listing, and didn’t look up.
“Clear what up?”
“The rumor... between you and Teacher Zhao.”
“Oh.”
Jiang Ci scrolled the three-bedroom, two-living-room layout with double balconies on his screen and replied casually.
“Let them spread it, we just do our work.”
To him, as long as it didn’t interfere with his tragic acting that extended his life, and didn’t delay him making money to buy Madam Chu Hong that big flat, he didn’t care if the sky fell.