During a casual chat with Aunt Liu the next day, Yu Shulin learned about Liang Zhou's profession—an actor.
Liang Zhou, an actor... Why was the vibe so completely different?
Aunt Liu, smiling, pulled out the remote control, led Yu Shulin to sit on the sofa, and started flipping through discs. "Don't be fooled by the young master's usual icy, aloof demeanor. When he really gets into acting, he's quite remarkable. He's only been in the industry a few years, but he keeps bringing trophies home one after another. It's a shame he doesn't like to display them, always locking them away in a cabinet. No sense of fun at all."
Yu Shulin listened to her chatter with a smile, feeling a bit curious himself. In his past life, although his grades had gotten worse and worse, he had been a proper bookworm in terms of lifestyle. Plus, the TV at his uncle's house was always monopolized by Yu Bo watching cartoons, so he really didn't know much about actors or celebrities. Later, when he went to prison, he had even less chance to be exposed to such things.
Aunt Liu fiddled with the remote, and images began to appear on the TV screen. She pressed a few more buttons, fast-forwarding the footage before stopping it about halfway through.
"This one. I think this is the part where the young master acted his best," Aunt Liu said happily, retreating to sit next to Yu Shulin.
The picture became clear again. A tall, slender figure staggered out of a bare forest, head bowed, one hand clutching his chest, the other holding a sword, looking utterly disheveled. The background music was tense and urgent, making the viewer feel nervous too. Wind blew, leaves fell, and the camera suddenly zoomed in, revealing the side profile of the white-clothed swordsman. Yu Shulin was stunned.
It was unmistakably Liang Zhou's face, but his expression was weary. His brows were slightly furrowed, his eyes filled with disappointment and resentment. His lips were pressed together, teeth clenched, and the hand holding the sword trembled slightly, clearly forcing himself to hold on.
"Duan Feitang, running is useless! Surrender now!"
A shrill voice suddenly exploded in the forest. Duan Feitang's aura changed instantly. He tilted his head to dodge a projectile weapon and shot a sharp glare towards the source of the voice. With a flip of his wrist, his sword was held steadily before his chest as he shouted deeply, "Xiao Yan, stop your trickery! Come out and face me fairly!"
As soon as the line was delivered, Yu Shulin was completely awestruck. The voice was the same, but the presence, the tone, the enunciation... were utterly different.
Aunt Liu had already prepared tissues and thoughtfully handed a few to Yu Shulin, sighing, "Oh my, this Duan Feitang really had a hard life. His father didn't cherish him, his mother didn't love him. He finally managed to marry a wife, only for her to be killed in the end. He took on a sworn brother, but who would have thought he had a black heart, luring him to a secret dungeon, drugging him, locking him up, and beating him... tortured so miserably!"
Yu Shulin looked down at the tissues in his hand, shifted on the sofa, unsure how to respond.
On TV, Duan Feitang was already fighting a man in black. As Aunt Liu watched intently, he also began to watch seriously.
Objectively speaking, the fight scene was indeed grandly produced. The atmosphere and the actors' visuals were top-notch, the martial arts movements flowed like water, alternating between fast and slow, perfectly complemented by the background music... In short, it was enough to shock this country bumpkin Yu's soul.
Once he started watching, it was hard to stop.
... No wonder this was a drama that required keeping a tissue box handy. The protagonist Duan Feitang was truly tragic. He barely escaped from his sworn brother Xiao Yan's clutches, only to accidentally fall off a cliff. Fortunately, he didn't die and even received the legacy of a reclusive master, instantly becoming incredibly powerful—powerful enough to crush all the heroes of the martial world. But just as he returned home triumphantly, he found his entire family slaughtered, with the evidence pointing directly to his former sworn brother, Xiao Yan.
Old grudges plus new hatred, nothing more to say—fight!
The two battled for three hundred rounds atop Mount X. Xiao Yan was severely injured and, before dying, told Duan Feitang that they were actually biological brothers! The murderer who wiped out the family wasn't him either, but Duan Feitang's wife, Ouyang Piaopiao! It turned out his wife wasn't some orphaned daughter of a great hero at all, but a holy maiden of a demonic cult who had gotten close to him just to steal the Duan family's ancestral treasure map. However, she was accidentally exposed by Xiao Yan and had to fake her death to escape. Xiao Yan had locked him up for his own good; he had learned in advance that the demonic cult planned to massacre the Duan family, so he lured Duan Feitang to the secret dungeon to imprison him for protection.
As for the drugging and beating part... ahem, better not dwell on those details.
Duan Feitang was deeply shaken. He thought of his younger brother who had gone missing in childhood, of his parents who had grown cold and distant towards him after the loss, and of the joyful times when he and his brother first swore their oath and roamed the martial world together. Overwhelmed by a hundred emotions, he spurted out a mouthful of black blood.
After spitting, he remembered his stunningly beautiful, gentle, and lovely wife. He tried to hold back, but ultimately couldn't, supporting himself on the ground as he spat out another mouthful.
Blood had to be spat, and revenge had to be taken.
After burying Xiao Yan, clutching the brocade pouch Xiao Yan had given him, he found the demonic cult's stronghold and single-handedly charged in, slaughtering many, many cult members. Finally, he fought the holy maiden Ouyang Piaopiao, who had rushed to the scene, for another three hundred rounds, bleeding profusely and quite dramatically.
The ending, of course, was that evil could not triumph over good. But although the holy maiden died, she dropped a bombshell—she was pregnant with Duan Feitang's child!
Thunderbolt from a clear sky!
Duan Feitang was greatly traumatized. After battling the demonic cult leader for three hundred rounds, he finally lost control of his cultivation, was severely injured, and lay dying. But before he could even gather himself to go down the mountain to recuperate, a bunch of righteous martial heroes suddenly rushed out, shouting and screaming to kill this demon.
He was utterly baffled. Then the Martial Alliance Leader jumped out, saying his martial arts style was exactly the same as that of the great demon Dugu Jiu, who had wreaked havoc in the martial world over a decade ago, and that no one would believe he wasn't a villain!
Dugu Jiu—that was precisely the name of the master who had passed on his skills to him at the bottom of the cliff! Duan Feitang had no way to defend himself. Reflecting on the absurdities of his life, he felt himself both pitiable and ridiculous. In the end, he simply drew his sword across his own throat, ending his farcical existence.
The story ended there. Aunt Liu cried her eyes out, while Yu Shulin, clutching his tissues, was deeply shocked by this bizarre conclusion.
But it had to be said, Liang Zhou had portrayed the role of Duan Feitang extremely well. Even though he found the ending utterly ridiculous, when he saw the white-clothed swordsman, steeped in desolation, taking his own life, Yu Shulin couldn't help but feel his eyes grow hot.
The mournful ending theme echoed in the living room. After her "boo-hoos," Aunt Liu switched to "sniffles." Yu Shulin rubbed his reddened eyes, not knowing how to comfort her.
Just as he was at a loss, the villa's front door opened.
He turned his head, his red eyes meeting Liang Zhou's at the entrance. He blinked, waved the napkin in his hand, and said, "You're back." He actually wanted to add, "You just died so tragically."
Liang Zhou, hearing the familiar ending theme echoing in the living room, frowned. "You're watching TV?"
Yu Shulin nodded, sniffling. "You acted really well."
The ending credits finished playing, and the living room fell quiet. Aunt Liu, having composed her emotions, stood up. When she turned and saw Liang Zhou's utterly despondent, coffin-like face, fresh grief welled up in her, and she began to cry again. "Young Master... you, you died so tragically, sob..."
Liang Zhou: "..."
He Long, standing behind Liang Zhou with a pile of shopping bags in hand: "..."
Perhaps rushing back for dinner had been a mistake, Liang Zhou thought.
