Reborn, I Became a Male God - Chapter 26-30

The police officer wasn’t surprised by Jing Ling’s reaction and spoke with some helplessness, “Young man, like I said just now, standing up for justice is a good thing. But this household’s situation is a bit special. Ask the victim first if she’s willing to press charges. This kind of thing hasn’t happened just once or twice. You’re not the first one to call the police. Before you, the surrounding neighbors also tried to help. The most we had was three police calls in a single week. Everything that should’ve been done has been done, but it still didn’t help. The neighborhood committee even tried to persuade her to divorce, but she absolutely refused. After a while, people just stopped trying.”

 

A female officer added, “You were actually pretty lucky today. The old lady of this household wasn’t home. If she’d seen how you treated her son, she’d have made a huge scene and extorted you until you lost your skin. You don’t know—this old lady is notoriously difficult around here. She’s slept outside government buildings and police stations. Even the higher-ups get a headache at the mention of her name. Just stay out of this and quickly take your girlfriend and leave!”

 

While the two officers spoke, Jing Ling observed the mother and daughter’s reactions. The woman remained numb and expressionless, but the child’s face made one’s heart ache. The little girl looked about four or five years old—an age where memories begin to form. She might not have understood the police’s words, but she knew they were talking about her family. Just not far from here was the back gate of the teacher’s university, and the other way led to a bustling street. As long as she stepped outside, she could see the bright and beautiful side of the world, which only made the darkness and misery of her home stand out more starkly.

 

Children’s thoughts aren’t as complicated as adults’, but they instinctively feel shame. But what had she done wrong? She couldn’t choose her birth, couldn’t change her environment, couldn’t even protect herself. Children who grow up in such environments either become the next victims like their mothers and continue the cycle, or become abusers like their fathers, harming more people. Or maybe she wouldn’t even survive to grow up—cut short along the way. And perhaps that would be the best outcome—without a future, at least she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

 

The police left, and the courtyard fell quiet at once. Given the Chinese tendency to gather at the slightest commotion, the fact that such a ruckus didn’t even make a neighbor open their door showed just how numb everyone had become. It was the best proof of what the police had just said.

 

This kind of matter is like that—if the person involved doesn’t take a stance themselves, outsiders can’t do much. That’s why from neighbors to police, no one wants to get involved anymore. But Jing Ling still wanted to try. The woman might be numb, but the little girl was innocent.

 

He would take it as doing a good deed for the day.

 

Jing Ling walked to the corner. Under the eaves, the light cast his shadow on the wall. Even though he had never hurt this woman, when he stood in front of her and his shadow fell across her body, she instinctively shrank back.

 

“I’ll take you to the doctor,” he said, crouching down and softening his voice. The woman shook her head. Her refusal was expected, so Jing Ling added, “Even if you don’t want to go, what about the child? You know, children aren’t like adults. One careless moment might cost her her life.”

 

From the way she had rushed in earlier to shield the child, and how she still clung tightly to her without letting go, it was clear she hadn’t become completely numb—at least, she still cared about the child. Sure enough, when Jing Ling mentioned the child, she hesitated and didn’t refuse immediately. After thinking for a long while, she finally nodded slowly.

 

Considering that the woman seemed subconsciously afraid of men, Jing Ling originally intended for Jing Qiu to help her, but she refused and struggled to her feet by holding the wall. She gripped the child’s hand tightly and limped toward the door.

 

Jing Qiu went out to hail a cab, while Jing Ling went back and casually picked out a few toys from the pile and brought them along. The rest he gave to the nearby neighbors.

 

“Sorry to disturb everyone so late at night. There’s a pile of toys here that we can’t take with us. If anyone has kids who’d like them, feel free to come and take some.”

After saying that, he turned and walked away. Behind him came the sound of doors opening one after another, mixed with the delighted voices of children.

 

He took the mother and daughter to the hospital. Both the adult and the child were covered in bruises—green and purple—along with all kinds of old injuries from years of abuse. A young nurse helped apply medicine. When she saw the wounds, she was so angry she started cursing.

 

It was past midnight by the time both of them had been treated and bandaged. The woman murmured a soft “thank you” and then tried to take her child and leave.

 

Jing Ling stopped her. “That scum… probably just woke up about now. If you take the child back, do you want her to get beaten all over again?”

 

Whenever her daughter was mentioned, the woman hesitated again.

 

“Don’t go back tonight. At least let her get one good night’s sleep. You still remember what her face looked like earlier at home, right? Now look at her—see how happy she is?”

 

Of course she remembered. How could she not? Her daughter’s terrified cries still pierced her ears. She looked up and saw the woman in the light floral dress beside her smiling gently, holding a plush toy and playing with the little girl. In her memory, her daughter had never smiled so happily before—her curved eyes and unguarded expression melted her heart.

 

“Okay!” Even though she knew that going back later might mean an even worse beating—not just from her husband but from her mother-in-law as well—if it meant her daughter could be happy a little longer, it was all worth it.

 

So Jing Ling took the mother and daughter to a nearby hotel for the night. He had class the next day but had already called his homeroom teacher to ask for leave. Jing Qiu happened to be free, so the siblings stayed behind.

 

Early the next morning, the woman was about to take the child home, but Jing Ling stopped her the same way again.

 

“If you go back now, he’ll still beat you. It won’t make a difference if it’s a bit later.”

 

“…Okay.”

 

After getting up and having breakfast, Jing Ling took the three of them out for some fun, mainly to take care of the little girl, Hu Qian. They went through everything the amusement park had to offer for children. Whatever she liked—ice cream, popcorn, cotton candy—he bought it. In the end, he even bought her a beautiful princess dress to wear.

 

In the afternoon, the four of them went to a nearby park. Jing Qiu took Hu Qian to ride a bike, while Jing Ling sat in a corner with Zhu Xiufen.

 

“Why don’t you get a divorce?” he asked.

 

The woman instinctively shook her head. “No, the child can’t grow up without a father!”

 

“A father? You mean that piece of trash? Open your eyes and look at how other families of three live. Even kids from fatherless homes are doing better than Hu Qian. She’s still little and doesn’t understand much now, but when she grows up and realizes how different her life is from others, don’t you think she might give up on life?”

 

“Do you know how many girls from families like this commit suicide every year? She almost didn’t survive when she was born, right? How much effort did you put in to save her back then—was it all just so she could live a life of humiliation and pain? If that’s the case, it would’ve been better to let her die without ever gaining consciousness. At least she wouldn’t suffer so much.”

 

The woman covered her face with her hands and began to sob softly. “It’s useless. He won’t let me divorce him. Every time I bring it up, he hits me and threatens me with Hu Qian… My own family doesn’t care either. My mother told me to just put up with it, said he’s a good man when he’s not drinking… I wanted to take Hu Qian and run, but I have no money. He takes it all to drink…”

 

“If the police take him away, my mother-in-law causes a scene, and soon he gets released…”

 

“It’s useless. Useless… If I don’t say anything, he just hits me. If I do, he hits both me and Hu Qian…”

 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—it was that she couldn’t. After failing one, two, three times, she too lost hope and became resigned, no longer resisting.

 

But to Jing Ling, that was already enough. As long as she wanted a divorce, everything else could be handled.

 

After reporting the case and filing charges, the rest was handed over to a lawyer. Legal proceedings take time—it’s not something that can be resolved in a day or two. Jing Ling provided temporary housing for the mother and daughter. It was an apartment he had rented with a one-year lease. Even after the divorce was finalized, they could continue living there. By the time the lease was up, she could have saved some money. Having some financial breathing room would never be a bad thing.

 

After that, Jing Ling didn’t stay involved much. Island was set to start filming at the end of October, and he needed to prepare to join the crew. Still, he left his number with the mother and daughter. If anything happened, they could call him.

 

Chapter 27

 

The film The Island tells the story of a group of shipwreck survivors who end up stranded on an uninhabited island. In the beginning, this project wasn’t something the director wanted to shoot on his own—it was someone else who approached him with the idea. The nature of the investors was rather unusual. It wasn’t any film or television company from the industry, nor was it capital looking to break into the market and grab a share, but rather a government entity.

 

Jiangcheng is a coastal city located in the southern administrative region and is one of the Republic’s foreign trade port cities. When most people think of this city, their first impression is usually “the world’s factory.” In recent years, the Jiangcheng government has made efforts to develop tourism, launching a development project featuring twelve islands, spearheaded by Xiaoyueya Island, in hopes of turning it into a premier tourist resort destination. However, while the ideal was full and rich, reality was lean and bony. The scenic spots that had received massive investment failed to attract visitors as expected. In fact, compared to the booming tourism scenes in the neighboring two cities, their attractions looked downright pitiful and deserted.

 

The Jiangcheng government had been trying various ways to promote this project, but without success. Early last year, a film titled Animal Adventures burst onto the scene and raked in 1 billion yuan at the box office, simultaneously boosting zoo attendance across the country. The government drew inspiration from this case and decided to use film as a way to promote their tourist sites. They quickly acted and approached several renowned directors.

 

At the time, only Director Gu from the industry’s top tier had an open schedule, so the Jiangcheng government set their sights on him. After more than two months of contact and negotiation, the film was finalized. The script, however, wasn’t settled until the director had conducted an on-site inspection.

 

First of all, as a film with clear promotional intent, as much of it as possible needed to be shot on location. Besides the cruise ship scene at the beginning, the rest of The Island takes place on the island. Except for the special effects that would be done in a studio, the majority of it could be filmed in real settings. In the past couple of years, with the soaring status of celebrities, their paychecks have skyrocketed like rockets, and their availability has become extremely tight. As a result, many productions are completed in studios with various backgrounds added in post-production. Due to limited budgets and heavy post-production demands, quality is naturally compromised.

 

For a film like The Island, shooting on location is theoretically essential. But unless the director has enough authority to control the stars, the production would ultimately have to compromise. Director Gu, however, is different. He’s one of the top five directors in the country and has been firmly established on a pedestal for years. His films are the most sought-after opportunities for actors. There are so many people eager for a chance that if one actor won’t cooperate, there will always be another ready to comply.

 

From the beginning of its planning stages, The Island drew widespread attention. All kinds of rumors and speculations flooded the forums, and the fan vs. anti-fan wars were endless. Recently, news broke that casting had concluded and filming was about to begin, triggering another wave of celebration across major forums. Every fanbase was full of hopeful anticipation that their favorite star would land a role, while at the same time tearing down their rivals without mercy.

 

At this time, every related post would attract attention.

 

One afternoon, a post appeared in the entertainment section of the Nanzhou platform:

 

Title: Bored, here’s some gossip—GD’s male second lead

 

no.0 Rock Sugar Pear: Underage.

 

no.1 Three Mouths Support: Daydreaming is more realistic!

 

no.2c: A web drama actor with a huge ego!

 

no.3 He Zhi Ke Yi: Grabbing my sweetie second lead from the front row! The subject of this post is finished!

 

—

 

no.28 Ah Bai Bai Forever Eighteen: If you’re going to make something up, at least make it believable. If you said it was a rising actor from the online world, maybe I could play along. But throwing out some web drama guy—it’s way too obvious you’re just trying to smear someone!

 

no.29 dire: Some Z-list internet celebrity thinks he’s all that. Not even one primetime drama under his belt, and he dares dream of being the second male lead in a big-name director’s film? Why don’t you shoot for the moon while you’re at it?

 

no.30 Storm Throne: FFS, my sweetie second lead hasn’t updated Weibo in half a month, hasn’t shown up to any events—how did he offend the OP enough to warrant this smear campaign? Taking my second lead and leaving. Anyone who throws dirt on him again, may your idol flop for three years!

 

no.31 Mu Zhizhi: I’m guessing it’s from H’s team. Their drama’s about to air and they’re stirring up buzz in every direction. Lately, they’ve been buying tons of press and aggressively marketing, constantly stepping on the underage one to gain traction. The unflattering pictures they released—I strongly suspect their team selected them frame by frame. All their skill points went into screenshots!

 

no.32 MeetAndGang: Agree with the comment above. Even though the underage one shot to fame with his debut and signed with Hongguang, the company probably hasn’t figured out how to shape his public persona yet. It’s too early for him to have multiple rivals. The only ones who wouldn’t like him are likely peers. The only upcoming costume drama—anyone with half a brain can guess who’s behind this smear campaign.

 

—

 

no.106 Rock Sugar Pear: I knew no one would believe me. Here’s the photo: Director Gu spotted at Hotel X in Jiangcheng. The underage one and his team were also there on the same day—for an audition. [pic][pic]

 

no.107 Bitter Love Song: Holy sh1t!

 

no.108 Empty Handed by Time: It’s actually real!

 

no.109 Hehe You Look Dumb: I almost believed it. It’s just an audition. Who knows if he’ll actually get picked? Even if he does, at most it’ll be a background role. Male second lead? That face has some nerve!

 

—

 

The post quickly blew up thanks to the combined efforts of fans, haters, and curious onlookers. It stayed on the front page for several days in a row. Soon, various entertainment bloggers jumped into the fray, stirring the pot even more. However, the one common belief most people seemed to share was this: no one actually believed it was true.

 

A few days later, The Island made its official announcement. The official Weibo account released a set of photos, and in the front row—right behind the male and female leads—stood none other than Jing Ling.

 

Chapter 28

 

Generally speaking, when a movie announces its cast, it’s done one by one. But Gu Mengmeng is an exception. He’s the kind of person who, if he doesn’t want you to know something, won’t say a word to clarify even if rumors are flying everywhere. But once he decides on something, he’ll release everything all at once. So every time before the official announcement of his films, both reliable and unreliable leaks fly around, fans and haters go to war like it’s a battlefield, and until the actual cast is revealed, no one knows who’s stirring up trouble.

 

Every official announcement is a love-hate event for fanbases. If your favorite gets the role, you’re obviously thrilled and might even run a few laps downstairs out of excitement. But if your favorite gets slapped in the face, you’re left grinding your teeth in frustration.

 

This time, the official Weibo of Island posted a nine-panel grid image—just like always, a precise and ruthless official face-slap. The haters were stunned, and even fans were thrown off. Onlookers enjoyed the drama and expressed their glee.

 

However, this wasn’t the end, but the beginning—of discussions about billing order and screen time.

 

On the poster, Jing Ling looked a bit different from usual. At first, people didn’t recognize him. Only after opening the full image and seeing his name in the upper left corner did they realize it was him.

Jing Ling plays “The Ninth Person.”

 

Even though his photo was the third in the sequence, he plays a character without even a name, which made people feel a bit conflicted. The haters, with their sharp senses, knew there was something fishy and immediately latched onto it, launching a wave of criticism regardless of the truth.

 

Topic: A low-tier internet celebrity suddenly soars—who is backing him? An unnamed character with numerous suspicions—everyone says he’s second only to the male lead. Stay tuned for this episode of The Era of Big Roles: Into the Island.

 

no.0 Shishang Liuyin: Previously on → Just dropping some gossip, GD second male lead.

Previously on 2 → Something big happened. Check Island’s official Weibo. There really is a minor!

 

Coming from web dramas, he shot to the big screen within three months, with a top director on one hand and a movie king on the other—is it true love or py (unspoken transactional relationship)? Feel free to discuss.

 

no.2 Gugu Not Gugu: Marking this with tongs! (slang for “saving for later reference”)

 

no.3 say hi: Taking Meng No.2 away, what a trashy, cheap move!

 

no.4 Flowers Never Wilt: You’re the one doing py—your whole family does py! My Meng No.2’s acting skills are clear for all to see. He was picked by Gu Mengmeng based on merit. Don’t know whose sore spot that hit, but anyone slandering him for using py to climb up, your dad’s head is covered in grass! (slang for being cheated on)

 

no.5 Old Town: Nowadays, humans and ghosts alike boast about their acting. That underage sissy is just playing himself. Think he’s some once-in-a-century genius?

 

—

 

“Meng No.2” is the nickname fans use for Jing Ling, based on his Weibo handle. “Minor” is how haters and onlookers refer to him, based on the ID photo from his first Weibo post.

 

Because his debut drama The Song of Eternal Joy aired on a Southern platform, that’s where he’s most well-known—and also where fan wars are most intense. As his agent, Shen Ze had long noticed this. In this circle, who doesn’t have paid commenters? Even if you don’t use them to attack others, you need them for damage control when your own gets attacked. Shen Ze initially planned to follow the rules of the industry but decided to ask Jing Ling first.

 

“No need to bother. If they like to hate, let them. Even money is divided by borders—you can’t expect the whole world to like me. I’m big-hearted. If I can take praise, I can take slander. Better to spend that money on charity or give fans some perks. Even though they’re fighting on the front lines out of love, everyone’s happy to be rewarded for their efforts.”

 

Shen Ze: What you said makes so much sense, I’m speechless.

 

Since the young master had spoken, he could only follow orders. But if no paid commenters, he could fight personally—one more soldier on their side meant one less for the other.

 

So he rolled up his sleeves, placed his keyboard, switched to a side account, and his fingers flew across the keys.

 

—

 

no.568 Zero Feather: If you say our Meng No.2 used casting couch tactics, show us proof! Otherwise, we’ll sue you for defamation!

 

no.569 oya: Forget the billing issue—I just think “Minor”’s appearance is suspicious. Everyone else looks rough, but he seems better off. Combined with his character’s name, something’s off.

 

no.570 nini: Hahahaha 568 go ahead and sue! Have your team send cease-and-desist letters to everyone in this thread. I’m soooo scared!

 

no.571 SuSuSuSu: Are all “Minor” stans elementary school kids? Talking about suing for defamation—you watch too much TV, hahahahaha!

 

—

 

Shen Ze was furious—so mad he wanted to smash the keyboard! Why are people’s mouths so toxic?! Turns out no job is easy in this world. Those paid trolls can insult for dozens of posts without repeating themselves, but he couldn’t even type a single insult.

 

Forget it. Better stop reading or he’d lose sleep and appetite tonight.

 

—

 

Jing Ling rarely paid attention to the bloodbath between fanbases. He would only browse on his phone when bored. After military training, under Shen Ze’s repeated urging, he finally replaced his black-and-white keypad phone with a sleek domestic smartphone. He immediately put it to good use by downloading popular mobile games and became utterly addicted, to the point that Shen Ze considered bringing back the old phone.

 

After getting leave from school, he joined the crew to shoot on the Jiangcheng Twelve Islands. The islands form a crescent shape, which is why they’re also called the Crescent Islands. Each of the twelve islands has a name; the one the crew was headed to was formerly known as Coral Island. However, after the movie was confirmed, it was renamed Island. On the way, a crew member gossiped with Jing Ling, saying the Jiangcheng government planned to turn this area into a unique attraction, with each island being the setting for a namesake movie—provided Island succeeded.

 

Except for a cruise ship scene at the beginning requiring extras, the rest of the film takes place on a deserted island with only eight survivors. The plot revolves around them and the ninth person, played by Jing Ling. Unlike the others who were washed ashore, Jing Ling’s character had been on the island from the start.

 

As the survivors die off one by one, the island’s secret gradually comes to light.

 

The eight survivors include both men and women, with varied identities—lawyer, police officer, nurse, writer, contractor, waitress, scammer, and celebrity. The male lead is a lawyer, always sharply dressed in suits, played by Feng Chu, winner of the 49th Bauhinia Film Festival Best Actor. The female lead is a police officer escorting a scammer back to the country, played by popular actress Zeng Qing. The remaining roles are filled by well-known actors. The celebrity role originally meant for Jing Ling was reassigned to rising star Yu Leyang.

 

Yu Leyang didn’t like Jing Ling. On the day he joined the crew, he privately asked Jing Ling, “I heard President Shang of Hongguang swings both ways—is that true?”

 

Jing Ling smiled innocently. “Try and find out.”

 

They parted on bad terms.

 

Still, Yu Leyang kept a polite facade in public. Jing Ling, on the other hand, was addicted to gaming and rarely spoke unless necessary.

 

Once the crew reached the island, they took a day to rest. The next morning, shooting officially began. Cameras, lighting, tracks, costumes, makeup—all ready.

The first scene: the male lead wakes up on the beach.

 

Blue skies, white clouds, blazing sun. A gentle sea breeze blew, seabirds flapped their wings above the waves. The waves crashed against rocks, forming white foam. In the distance, a dark figure lay faintly visible on the sand. As the camera zoomed in, the figure became clearer—a man lying face down.

 

His hair was a mess, half his face buried in sand. His lips were dry and cracked from long sun exposure. His shirt and slacks were wrinkled and soaked by seawater. He was barefoot; his shoes had been washed away.

 

The waves lapped the shore again and again. Salty water entered his nose, making the unconscious man choke and slowly regain consciousness.

 

Jing Ling watched the whole process from the sidelines and couldn’t help admiring it. No wonder he’s a movie king—even though it was just acting, if the crew and props were removed, it would look like a real shipwreck survivor. Even the subtle brow furrow was convincingly real.

 

One take, perfect start for the crew.

 

Scenes in film aren’t shot in story order but by location. There were only a few beach scenes in the entire movie. After the male lead wakes up, the next one is the celebrity arguing with the group and going to the beach alone—only to end up dead there.

 

The killer is Jing Ling.

 

This is his first appearance in the movie. It’s nighttime. The beach is just dozens of meters from the gathering spot. Firelight flickers, casting long shadows of the people sitting around it. He kills their companion right under their noses and walks away. Under the moonlight, a long trail of footprints is visible on the sand—soon washed away by the waves.

 

As mentioned, Yu Leyang didn’t like Jing Ling and often made sarcastic remarks behind his back. Jing Ling wasn’t very forgiving either, so he disliked Yu Leyang in return.

 

He had long looked forward to this scene.

 

The night sky was deep blue, dotted with faint stars. A bright moon hung high, and the sound of waves filled the air.

 

Yao Chengyun walked toward the beach cursing.

 

“F*** you all! Why am I the one looking for food? Why don’t you guys go? Who knows what’s in those woods! Aaaaargh!” He spread his arms wide and screamed at the sea to vent his anger.

 

Under the moonlight, a figure appeared behind him, approaching step by step.

 

Chapter 29

 

Yu Leyang’s career path in the entertainment industry had been fairly smooth. He debuted as the lead in a campus idol drama. Though the show was heavily criticized and mocked for being over-the-top and cringeworthy, both the series and he himself became a hit—something everyone acknowledged. At the time, he was only a sophomore in college.

 

That same September, he landed his first movie role—a fantasy blockbuster directed and written by well-known names and starring A-list celebrities. He played the third male lead, the overbearing and exceptionally talented young master of an aristocratic family. The styling and costume design in the movie suited him well, and in full costume, he looked exactly like a dashing and flamboyant young man from ancient times.

 

After its release, the movie performed decently at the box office—considered a moderate success. Thanks to this role, Yu Leyang gained a large number of appearance-based fans. Had things continued on this trajectory, his future would have been nothing short of bright. Unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned. The two TV dramas he accepted the following year both ran into trouble—ratings plummeted, and the shows flopped so hard that even his own mother wouldn’t recognize them. Meanwhile, the movie roles he was counting on were snatched up by rival agencies, and for almost half a year, he faded into obscurity.

 

At the end of the year, he played the second male lead in a costume drama involving political intrigue. The drama received rave reviews after airing, and he took the opportunity to create buzz by fanning a “boy-love” CP (couple pairing) with the male lead. After riding that wave to regain popularity, he promptly turned around and ruthlessly stepped on the male lead while launching an aggressive self-promotion campaign.

 

This clearly showed his poor character.

 

Yu Leyang heard about the upcoming film The Island through a friend. At the time, the project hadn’t even been officially registered, and the public had no clue. From the very beginning, he tried various ways to approach Director Gu and secure a role, but unfortunately, the director wasn’t impressed by his acting skills. Later, when the film got officially registered and the news became widely known, competition skyrocketed, and Yu Leyang’s chances became even slimmer.

 

He asked his friend to pull some strings, and the friend mentioned there was a minor background role he could try for. At that point, Yu Leyang was too arrogant to care for such a small part. By the time he came to his senses, the role had already been taken.

 

Needless to say, the one who snatched the role was none other than Jing Ling.

 

From that moment on, Yu Leyang held a grudge against Jing Ling. In mid-October, a friend told him the role had become available again and asked if he wanted it. This time, he didn’t hesitate or nitpick—he accepted immediately. 

 

For the next few days, he mentally mocked Jing Ling for not even being able to hold onto a role. But when filming started in early November, to his surprise, Jing Ling was still in the cast—and his role was far more important, a true main character. In other words, the part Yu Leyang picked up wasn’t something he had stolen from Jing Ling. It was something Jing Ling had discarded for a better offer.

 

That was a serious slap in the face.

 

Yu Leyang had always been petty, and now his new and old grudges stacked together. If looks could kill, he would’ve flayed Jing Ling alive a thousand times by now.

 

Today’s scene was supposed to be a confrontation between him and Jing Ling. But in reality, it was a solo performance by Jing Ling. All Yu Leyang had to do was scream aimlessly by the seaside like an idiot and then get his throat slit from behind—game over.

 

There wasn’t even a real chance for him to perform.

 

He was extremely annoyed, but soon that turned into smugness. Because he saw an opportunity to mess with Jing Ling. If the ambush wasn’t a clean kill, it was natural for the victim to struggle. If he exaggerated his movements during the struggle, he could definitely make that kid suffer for days. And if he managed to leave some marks on Jing Ling’s face? Even better!

 

Director Gu, though nicknamed “Cute Gu,” was anything but cute. A top-tier director becomes top-tier not just by skill, but also because their standards are far stricter than others. Even for a minor role with little impact on the plot, he expected solid performances.

 

Yu Leyang had debuted in idol dramas and continued working only in idol dramas. Coupled with his bad character and focus on hype and outshining others rather than acting, his skills never improved beyond beginner level. 

 

Aside from roles that were essentially just playing himself, most of his performances came across as awkward. Such a person frequently made mistakes even when trying to act seriously—let alone when he was distracted.

 

“Cut!” Director Gu shouted angrily through a megaphone. “Yu Leyang, what was with that look in your eyes?! You’re supposed to be expressing rage and frustration, not cursing a straw doll. Don’t show that creepy, disgusting expression! Fix it and do it again. Jing Ling, go back to your mark. Your performance was great—keep it up!”

 

Getting scolded in front of so many people—even someone as thick-skinned as Yu Leyang couldn’t pretend it didn’t bother him. His face turned from green to red, then from red to black, like a human color palette. What made it worse was that while he was being scolded, Jing Ling got praised. The director hadn’t said it outright, but the implication was clear to everyone: Jing Ling did well, but because of Yu Leyang’s blunder, he had to redo the scene too. If he did well again, fine. But if not, he’d still share part of the blame.

 

Damn it, ever since this little punk showed up, nothing had gone right!

 

After mentally cursing Jing Ling out several times, Yu Leyang finally pushed aside his extra thoughts and focused on acting.

 

For a minor role, as long as the acting wasn’t a total disaster and he put in some effort, it might not go smoothly in one take, but a few tries would get the job done.

 

“Action,” the director called.

 

Yao Chengyun stood facing the sea and shouted. His voice was carried by the ocean breeze all the way to the camp in the distance.

 

It seemed to have rained on the island a couple of days ago. The dry branches Tang Feiyang and the others had gathered at the forest’s edge were still a bit damp. Fortunately, Liang Feng’s lighter was waterproof and hadn’t fallen into the ocean when they went overboard. Otherwise, they’d be rubbing sticks together like cavemen. By nightfall, the four of them had built a fire. The crackling of the burning wood mixed with the flickering firelight.

 

Their boat had been in a shipwreck, and so far, only the four of them had washed ashore on this deserted island. Without any communication devices, they couldn’t call for help and could only wait to be rescued. Who knew when that would happen? For now, their priority was to survive.

 

Tang Feiyang suggested dividing tasks: some would search for food and fresh water, while others would stay at the camp in case a ship passed by.

 

All four were adult men, but Chen Huaimin was short and frail from years of staying indoors and lacking exercise. So Tang Feiyang suggested he stay behind to handle logistics while he went to find water. Yao Chengyun and another person would go in opposite directions to search for food.

 

No one objected—except for Yao Chengyun, who flat-out refused. So Tang Feiyang switched up the assignments and asked Yao to stay at the camp. But Yao still wouldn’t agree and snapped at him, “Who the hell do you think you are, ordering people around here?” The meeting ended in obvious discord.

 

With that arrogant attitude, it was no wonder the others didn’t like him. The three of them ended up isolating him with silent treatment. Yao Chengyun eventually lost his temper, cursed a bit, and stormed off.

 

When his voice echoed back, the others glanced in his direction, saw him ranting like a madman, and ignored him to continue their conversation.

 

No one noticed a dark figure had appeared at the edge of the sea and was slowly approaching Yao Chengyun.

 

He shouted several more times until his throat began to hurt. Then he stopped, took a few deep breaths, and prepared to return.

 

“Cut! Next setup!”

 

This time, Yu Leyang performed well. Though there were still a few flaws, they were within the acceptable range for Director Gu. Next up was Jing Ling’s scene—holding a weapon and silently slitting Yu Leyang’s throat from behind. 

 

Yu Leyang wouldn’t be able to cry for help and would struggle a few times before going limp.

 

“Action!”

 

The shadowy figure had somehow appeared behind Yao Chengyun. Backlit, his face was obscured, but the blade in his hand reflected the cold moonlight. The hand holding the dagger slowly moved toward Yao’s neck.

 

The icy blade pressed against his warm skin, then slashed hard—bl00d sprayed out.

 

But the victim showed no reaction.

 

“Cut! Yu Leyang, what the hell are you doing again?! You’re having your throat slit—struggle, dammit! Do you even know what it means to struggle for your life?! You’re not supposed to be a statue!”

 

Director Gu bellowed through the megaphone.

 

It took Yu Leyang a while to snap out of it, his face pale. Originally, he’d planned to not only struggle, but do so violently—hopefully slamming that little punk behind him hard enough to cause internal injuries. But when Jing Ling approached, all he felt was a chill across his whole body. When the blade touched his neck, it felt like he was actually about to die. His mind went blank. 

 

Forget revenge—even basic acting became impossible.

 

In that moment, he finally understood why the director had chosen Jing Ling for this role.

 

Because when that boy stood behind him, he really seemed like a killer.

 

Chapter 30

 

Yu Leyang NG’d three times before this scene was successfully filmed.

 

[NG: short for “No Good”, a common term in Chinese film/TV productions meaning a failed take.]

 

Yao Chengyun struggled in despair, but it was all in vain. He couldn’t call for help, and the companions in the distant camp didn’t care what he was doing. As the strength in his body slowly drained with the bl00d, he finally stopped struggling, his arms dropping weakly as he died with a terrified expression on his face.

The killer did not leave immediately. He laid Yao Chengyun’s body flat on the ground in a standard sleeping posture but left the eyes wide open in death. He pulled over Yao Chengyun’s garment hem and carefully wiped the bl00d off the dagger before leaving unhurriedly, leaving behind a long string of footprints that were quickly washed away by the waves.

 

In the camp, Tang Feiyang and the others noticed that Yao Chengyun hadn’t returned for a long time and glanced toward the beach again. The moon had hidden behind clouds, and no human figure was visible within sight. Realizing something was wrong, they left the camp to search for Yao Chengyun and eventually found his corpse on the beach.

 

For the first time, the shadow of death loomed over everyone.

 

“Cut! That’s it for today, wrap it up!”

 

After cleaning up the on-site cameras, props, and so on, the whole crew had a seafood feast and spent the night in the temporarily built camp. Filming continued the next day.

 

The scene shifted to the forest. This scene was mainly about the female lead’s appearance and her accidental encounter with the ninth person. However, since the other party appeared in the trees and moved too fast, she couldn’t see clearly and mistook him for a monkey, so she didn’t pay much attention.

In this scene, the ninth person had to move quickly through the trees. Normally, a stunt double would be used, but Jing Ling requested to try it himself.

 

Young people being dedicated to their work was a good thing, and Director Gu was naturally willing to give him the opportunity. But he couldn’t make the whole crew wait while he experimented alone. So he told him to try climbing a tree first—if he couldn’t even do that, there was no need to attempt the rest.

 

“That tree, go climb it!” Director Gu casually pointed at a tree. It was about 20 cm in diameter, with a straight trunk growing upward, approximately 7 meters tall, and with branches spreading out around 4 meters from the ground. Aside from the rough bark, it was pretty much like climbing a utility pole.

 

Jing Ling nodded, warming up his wrists and ankles as he walked. When he got to the tree, he looked up. Everyone was still waiting to see him make a fool of himself, but in the next moment, he grabbed the trunk and darted up to the top in a few swift moves. His movements were so quick that no one even saw them clearly.

 

“Director Gu, how was that? Acceptable?” Jing Ling sat on a top branch, swinging his legs.

 

Director Gu looked at the tree, then at him. “Acceptable. Come down, let’s get ready to shoot.”

 

What followed was a bizarre sequence of filming. Jing Ling jumped up and down in the trees the whole time, with the director constantly yelling through a megaphone:

 

“Jing Ling, slow down! Zeng Qing can’t catch up!”

 

“Jing Ling, come back! You’re too far for the camera to catch you!”

 

“Jing Ling, come closer! You’re blocking the view!”

 

“Jing Ling…”

 

Everyone thought to themselves: Are you a monkey undercover in human society?

 

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, three months had passed. The location shooting for Island was coming to an end. As the story progressed, the number of survivors had dropped from eight to three. Only the male and female leads and Chen Huaimin were still alive, and the existence of the ninth person was finally revealed. This was deduced by Chen Huaimin. Based on how familiar the ninth person was with the island, he concluded that the person was not a fellow survivor but had been living on the island long before the shipwreck occurred.

 

The hidden truth behind the island came to light—the so-called eight survivors hadn’t drifted there by accident, but were deliberately sent. From the start, they were separated into different areas to make it easier for the ninth person to make his move.

 

It was a bloody killing game, and they were the carefully selected prey!

 

That afternoon, Jing Ling finished his final scene on the island. After luring the male and female leads away, he slit Chen Huaimin’s throat and killed him before quickly leaving. But less than two minutes later, he returned to take Chen Huaimin’s body.

 

The next scene was the same segment he had performed during his audition—turning the act of chopping vegetables into dismemberment. This was also the reason the director had him audition for the ninth person.

 

“Just bring out the same energy you had during the audition!” Director Gu patted his shoulder. “Go on!”

 

Jing Ling nodded and walked over to the “body” to begin his performance.

 

Unexpectedly, the scene went extremely smoothly. On camera, his movements were fluid and precise, the slicing action like a form of bloody art—so beautiful it was chilling. During the entire shoot, everyone on set felt a shiver down their spine, with the illusion that the knife was cutting into their own flesh. It wasn’t until the director called “Cut!” that everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief.

 

After filming, Jing Ling crouched by the stream, washing off the fake bl00d on his hands with elegant composure. At that moment, a girl from the crew ran over.

 

“Jing Ling, your phone’s ringing!”

 

After thanking her, Jing Ling took the phone and was slightly surprised to see the caller ID—it was Jiang Siyang.

 

He answered the call directly, “I’ve been filming in Jiangcheng all this time. I haven’t even seen Miss Jiang, and we’ve only talked on the phone twice. Do you really need to monitor that too?” His first thought upon seeing Jiang Siyang’s call was that this obsessive brother was coming to stir up trouble again.

 

There was a suspicious two-second silence on the other end, then a throat cleared. “I’m calling you this time not because of Xiaojin. It’s about something else.”

 

“Go ahead,” Jing Ling replied calmly.

 

Jiang Siyang was calling to ask Jing Ling to deal with a certain snake and tiger in the Changchu Ridge Mountain Range. It started about a week ago when soldiers were routinely inspecting the perimeter fence. They didn’t find any damage or looseness, but as they were leaving, someone noticed something odd in their peripheral vision. Upon a closer look, they were nearly scared to death—a huge tiger was lying in the bushes.

 

The soldiers quickly reported the situation, and two squads arrived. 

 

Fortunately, they had once cared for this tiger before and recognized it as the previously injured South China tiger. Unlike Jing Ling, they couldn’t read the tiger’s mind, so the two sides stared at each other across the iron fence. 

 

Someone whispered, “Do you think she’s hungry?”

 

After some discussion, they found the guess reasonable, so some went to fetch food and threw it over the fence. The food landed just a short distance in front of the tiger. She immediately focused her gaze on the food, stared for a long time, then jumped out of the bushes, grabbed the food, and ate it in a few bites before lying back down in the same spot, watching the humans through the fence.

 

The feeding continued until they ran out of food. After finishing the last piece, the tiger disappeared behind the bushes.

 

The next day after training, a few people gathered again to check on the tiger. They came just to try their luck, and sure enough, she was still there. So another round of feeding began.

 

The tiger, a nationally protected animal and especially beautiful, became the delight of everyone. After several days of feeding, they suddenly decided to record a video. They set up surveillance equipment and, being off-duty the next day, gathered around the monitors early in the morning to see when the tiger would appear.

 

They waited and waited, until around noon, the bush where the tiger usually sat began to stir.

Everyone perked up, almost pressing their faces to the screen. But what appeared next nearly scared them to death—it was a giant python, at least ten meters long, about 80 cm in width, with a mottled brown back, looking like the star of a horror movie like Anaconda.

 

“Holy sh1t!”

 

“That scared the hell out of me!”

 

“Is that even a snake?!”

 

Before they could recover, the bushes beside the snake rustled, and the tiger they had been feeding appeared. She raised her head, looked around, then lay back down obediently in the bushes. A few minutes later, the python rose and coiled its way up a nearby tree, disappearing from view. But careful observation revealed faint traces of its movement.

 

Everyone watching the monitor felt a chill—so this whole time they had been feeding the tiger, that giant snake had been hiding in the tree?! They had thought the iron fence was safe, but it was an illusion. If the snake wanted to attack, they wouldn’t even have time to escape.

 

Everyone was deeply shaken.

 

Then another question arose—how could a tiger and a snake, two different species, live together in harmony like that?

 

No one knew, but no one dared to feed them anymore.

 

When the news reached Jiang Siyang, he spent an afternoon watching the monitor until he saw both the tiger and the snake, confirming it was the same snake he’d seen before. Although it hadn’t attacked him that night, that was only because Jing Ling had been there. He wasn’t brave enough to go alone now.

So he called Jing Ling. “Feeding a tiger is one thing, the army can afford it. But what’s with the snake? We don’t want to be its snack! Those two beasts came because of you—take them away, thanks!”

 

Jing Ling was speechless. “What do you mean came because of me? Weren’t they drawn by the Bai family? Why are you coming to me and not Bai Ningxi? Even if you’re biased against me, do you have to be so obvious?”

 

Just as he said this, Zeng Qing walked over, unaware he was on a call. She spoke while walking, “Jing Ling, you only have one final scene left to film in the studio. What are your plans afterward?”

 

Upon hearing this, Jing Ling immediately remembered that his final scene was when the scent of bl00d from the dismemberment attracted the island’s giant snake—and then he was killed by it.

 

“Sister Qing, I’ve got something to do, I’ll talk to you later!” He quickly hung up on Jiang Siyang and sprinted toward Director Gu.

 

“Looking for me?” Director Gu asked when he saw him running over.

 

Jing Ling nodded. “Director, do you need extras? I don’t want any pay, just food and lodging!”