Four days later, Yunnan province, Xishuang City Gaduong International Airport.
There were no cara flashes, no screams from fans, and no banners.
The afternoon sun was scorching hot, baking the earth.
At the airport exit, several inconspicuous black SUVs were parked quietly by the roadside, their bodies covered in dried yellow mud.
Several n with dark skin, wearing training tank tops, leaned against the car doors smoking,
their gazes when looking at people were direct and rough.
This setup didn't look like picking up a celebrity; it felt more like a secret rendezvous.
Sun Zhou followed closely behind Jiang Ci, his palm holding the suitcase handle slick with sticky sweat.
His eyes swept nervously around, feeling like every step he took was on the edge of a movie set.
Jiang Ci, however, was very calm. He wore a baseball cap,
the brim pulled extrely low, and a faded old T-shirt.
He walked straight towards those SUVs.
The man at the head stubbed out his cigarette, looked Jiang Ci up and down, and blew out a smoke ring.
"Jiang Ci?"
Jiang Ci nodded.
The man didn't say anything more, just waved a hand. Soone imdiately ca over from the side,
snatched the suitcase from Sun Zhou's hand, and roughly threw it into the trunk.
Sun Zhou watched helplessly as his expensive suitcase was treated like that,
his heart aching with a twinge, but he didn't dare utter a single word.
The car started, left the airport, and rged onto the national highway leading to the border.
The scenery along the way was completely severed from the bustling tropolis.
Low-rise civilian houses, spiderweb-like power lines,
locals in ethnic attire visible everywhere by the roadside, exuding a kind of untad wildness.
The hotel where the film crew was staying was a three-star guesthouse,
located on the edge of the small town. A few kiloters further south was the national border.
Large patches of white paint had peeled off the building's exterior wall, revealing dusty gray concrete.
The corridor was perated with an inescapable damp, musty sll.
As soon as Jiang Ci and Sun Zhou got out of the car,
they saw several n with buzz cuts, covered in tattoos, squatting on the hotel entrance steps,
smoking and laughing loudly in the local dialect.
Their gazes swept over, carrying a direct sense of scrutiny and aggression.
Sun Zhou instinctively shrank behind Jiang Ci.
A middle-aged man wearing a faded polo shirt and gold-rimd glasses ca out from the lobby to greet them.
He was Old Zhang, the producer of 'Icebreaker'.
"Jiang Ci, you must be tired from the journey."
Old Zhang smiled amiably and extended his hand for a shake.
"Screenwriter Yan and Director Jiang are out scouting locations, they'll be back in the evening. Let take you to your room first."
Old Zhang was a well-known veteran in the industry.
For a "traffic" star like Jiang Ci who had exploded in popularity overnight,
he was polite on the surface, but inwardly he was observing and waiting.
He had deliberately arranged this most rudintary hotel,
just to see this young man's reaction.
If he showed even a hint of disdain or complaint, Old Zhang would know what to think.
The film crew's staff were unloading luggage from the cars.
A young guy single-handedly lifted Jiang Ci's largest suitcase,
probably thinking a celebrity's suitcase was full of clothes and shoes, how heavy could it be?
But as he exerted force, the suitcase slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a heavy, dull *thud*.
The suitcase's latch was shaken open, the lid popping open a crack.
Everyone's gaze was instinctively drawn over.
The imagined brand-na clothes and high-end skincare products did not appear.
What rolled out from the gap in the suitcase
was a smooth glass cupping device, a few brownish moxibustion sticks,
and a familiar, oversized army-green thermos cup.
Exactly the sa "old cadre style" one that made a fleeting appearance in the backstage sneak photo from *Vogue* and was turned into s all over the internet.
The luggage-moving young guy froze.
He stared dumbly at the things on the ground, then at the suitcase,
completely unable to connect these items with the slim, capable male star before him.
Producer Old Zhang's smile also stiffened on his face.
He had seen actors acting arrogant, bringing piles of luxury goods, bringing a dozen personal assistants,
but he had never seen a male actor in his early twenties whose suitcase contained these things.
The scene fell into silence.
Sun Zhou wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. He hurried over, flustered, trying to stuff the things back in.
Jiang Ci, however, very naturally crouched down, picked up the thermos cup, and patted off the dust.
He glanced at the flustered staff mber and spoke calmly.
"It's fine, nothing's broken."
Then, he picked up the cupping device and moxibustion sticks from the ground one by one, put them back in the suitcase, and snapped the latch shut.
Throughout the entire process, he showed not a hint of displeasure.
Watching this scene, Old Zhang felt a complex mix of emotions.
This kid... seed different from the rumors.
In the evening, Yan Zheng returned together with a tall, imposing man with a powerful aura.
He was Jiang Wen, the director of 'Icebreaker'.
He still carried the scent of dew and earth from the mountains.
His sharply defined face was filled with an unyielding, authoritative strength,
and his gaze when looking at people was like examining material through a lens.
He didn't ntion any welco dinner, just jerked his chin towards Jiang Ci
and said to Yan Zheng, "So this is the 'treasure' you were talking about?"
Imdiately, his gaze settled on Jiang Ci and he spoke directly, "Co on, let take you to see a place."
The car drove through the chaotic streets of the small town and stopped outside a high wall.
Barbed wire was strung along the wall; inside were several gray buildings. This was the local compulsory drug rehabilitation center.
It was exactly ti for outdoor exercise.
Through two layers of barbed wire, you could see people inside wearing uniform blue prison uniforms.
Most of them were emaciated, walking with unsteady steps, their faces showing a numb emptiness.
So gathered in small groups talking quietly, while others leaned alone against the base of the wall, staring vacantly into space.
Sun Zhou only glanced once before his throat tightened, a wave of nausea churning in his stomach made him instinctively turn his face away.
Jiang Wen stood beside Jiang Ci, not speaking.
He wanted to see what this young actor's reaction would be
when faced with this most real, most ugly scene.
Jiang Ci leaned against the barbed wire, watching intently inside.
He leaned forward, motionless.
After a long ti, he suddenly moved.
He imitated the posture of one person inside, slightly hunching his back, his shoulders instinctively curling inward.
When he walked, one leg dragged, as if that leg didn't belong to him.
His steps were slow, light, yet perated with a kind of defeated exhaustion, as if all vitality had been drained.
Jiang Wen's footsteps subconsciously halted.
He watched Jiang Ci's back,
watched every detail he imitated. His gaze was always scrutinizing and severe, but for the first ti, it flickered with astonishnt.
Then that astonishnt transford into intensely excited focus,
like a hunter finally spotting the prey he had long been searching for.
He didn't interrupt, but turned to Yan Zheng and lowered his voice,
his tone brimming with suppressed excitent, "Old Yan, you son of a bitch, you've really struck a true vein of ore this ti."
Back at the hotel, as soon as the elevator doors opened, a heavy sll of smoke mixed with a sense of oppression hit them.
A man stood inside the elevator.
He looked to be around fifty, burly, with a face full of coarse flesh and a ferocious knife scar running from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth.
He wore a floral shirt, open at the front, revealing a thick patch of black chest hair and a thick gold chain.
When he turned his head and those murky eyes fixed on Jiang Ci, a terrifying aura of killing intent filled the entire cramped space.
Sun Zhou's legs went weak on the spot.
He felt like he was being stared down by a wild beast, his breath stopping.
This guy has really killed soone, right?!
The elevator doors slowly closed. In the narrow space, the atmospheric pressure was terrifyingly low.
Sun Zhou trembled uncontrollably, cold sweat soaking his back.
Jiang Ci, however, showed no reaction.
[Body of Steel] made him almost immune to this kind of oppressive aura.
He just thought the smoke sll on this person in the elevator was a bit choking.
Then, he very seriously sized the other person up a few tis.
Under Sun Zhou's horrified stare, Jiang Ci took a pack of tissues from his pocket and offered it over.
Before the other could react, he spoke again.
"Uncle."
His form of address was very polite.
"Your liver fire is a bit strong, your eyes are full of red veins."
He continued in a tone discussing health maintenance.
"Stayed up late? Want so chrysanthemum tea? I have so freshly brewed in my thermos cup."
"……"
The burly man's fierce expression instantly froze.
Sun Zhou also petrified.
What was his boss doing? Was he giving a health science lecture to a dangerous person suspected of being a gangster?!
A few seconds later.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The middle-aged man suddenly erupted in deafening laughter, laughing so hard the whole elevator seed to vibrate.
He slapped Jiang Ci's shoulder with a startlingly powerful force.
"Interesting! You kid, you're really damn interesting!"
He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and introduced himself, "Lei Zhong, playing Cha Cai. Just testing you with a bit of acting earlier, didn't expect that..."
Lei Zhong.
One of the top veteran actors in the country. To play a butcher well, he could go work in a slaughterhouse killing pigs for three months.
That mont earlier was a test of acting.
And it was completely defused by a single phrase about "chrysanthemum tea."
The evening welco dinner was held at the greasy-spoon joint downstairs from the guesthouse.
A greasy round table was surrounded entirely by burly, rough-looking n.
They were all actors playing drug dealers or police officers in the film.
There was no alcohol on the table, only tea.
Everyone looked at Jiang Ci, the only fair-skinned, delicate-looking one at the table, their skepticism barely concealed.
Could this tender-skinned, delicate guy withstand Director Jiang's tornt?
Don't start crying for his mommy during the first fight scene.
In the corner of the joint, the TV was playing the evening news.
"...After days of searching by our side, the remains of the undercover police officer who went missing during the border anti-drug operation were discovered downstream today..."
The female anchor's clear, precise voice carried clearly to the table.
The buzzing chatter in the joint from the previous second instantly fell silent.
Everyone stopped using their chopsticks and looked at the TV screen.
On the screen, several uniford police officers
carried a stretcher covered with a white cloth, walking along the muddy riverbank.
The rough smile vanished from Lei Zhong's face.
He picked up his teacup, drained it in one gulp, but couldn't control the redness that welled up in his eyes.
Only the female anchor's voice from the TV continued.
Jiang Ci lowered his head, looking at the clear tea in the cup before him.
His fingers unconsciously rubbed slowly against the warm surface of the cup,
until his fingertips turned slightly red from the heat.
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