Mad Dog

Chapter 8: Lone Wolf Walking Alone

**If I lie to you, will you forgive me?

**Yes, because I know you like me.

Jiang Qi was called out by Shen Lei with a phone call and was half-forced to the film set to watch an audition. The young man just crawled out of bed, got ready with a simple wash, and went out. When he huddled in the back seat of the car, there was a sleepy look all over him.

His jet-black, slightly long hair fell onto his forehead, and the way it drooped over his eyelids made him look like a prince charming who could evoke sympathy.

Shen Lei turned around and took a glance, feeling that Jiang Qi’s hair seemed to have grown a lot—fourteen months ago when he picked him up at the prison gate, the young man had a short crew cut, and now it had grown this long.

However, this nonchalant appearance…

Shen Lei tentatively asked, “Haven’t checked your phone?”

Now, everywhere on the forums, people were discussing the two characters ‘Jiang Qi,’ creating a buzz that never seemed to end. Unless the characters ‘Jiang’ and ‘Qi’ were expelled from the Chinese dictionary, there was no way to completely erase the negative discussions.

Moreover, Jiang Qi didn’t have a signed contract with any company, no backing. Who would help him hire an online army to counter the negativity? It was already good enough that he didn’t take advantage of the situation to throw more stones. The heavy suppression of the negative trends felt like a shackle, making Shen Lei uncomfortable just looking at it. So, he decided to take the opportunity to call Jiang Qi out and help him relax a bit.

Jiang Qi’s cold voice, muffled by the mask, answered him in a dull tone, “Didn’t check.”

He never liked looking at that stuff.

Shen Lei wasn’t surprised by his answer and slightly breathed a sigh of relief, “Continue sleeping. It will take a while to get to Hengdian.”

A year ago, he already knew that this kid had a peculiar and strange personality, inherently rebellious. Things that normal people would be curious about and look forward to didn’t spark his curiosity; it was as if he was born without a desire for worldly pursuits.

The overwhelming online negativity might affect others, but it definitely didn’t affect Jiang Qi.

Shen Lei was a talented young director. Because of his youth, he was different from Jiang Qi. He was full of curiosity, enjoying studying things and people. Jiang Qi precisely possessed a quality that modern people lacked – the so-called ‘mysterious aura.’ Shen Lei had known him for almost two years, and there was one thing about Jiang Qi that intrigued him.

That was whether Jiang Qi truly cared about someone.

Jiang Qi seemed like a lone wolf walking alone.

As for the rumors online, Shen Lei didn’t need to inquire about them.

Since he saw Jiang Qi in prison two years ago, he knew the reason the kid ended up there. So when he saw the crowd speculating like headless flies based on the so-called ‘exclusive revelations’ online, he found it amusing.

The truth was often more dramatic, cruel, and frightening than rumors. Because Shen Lei remembered that the prison staff had told him it was a case of excessive self-defense resulting in a manslaughter charge.

*

Half an hour later, Jiang Qi, who was dozing off with closed eyes, was shaken awake by Shen Lei. He struggled to sit up, took a moment to rub his face, and then jumped out of the car. The intense sunlight outside made it impossible to hide. Jiang Qi, feeling a bit uncomfortable, squinted his eyes. His light-colored glass-like pupils were even lighter than the sunlight.

Outside Hengdian, two men were about to take a smoke break. When they saw the approaching duo, their steps paused. They looked at Jiang Qi with interest and walked over to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, old Shen.” The tall man on the left with a square face, a bit elongated, seemed familiar with Shen Lei. He patted him warmly on the shoulder and asked, “Is this the treasure you recently dug up? Tsk, the whole industry is talking about it. You’ve kept it well hidden.”

The way he talked, as if discussing a ‘commodity,’ made Jiang Qi slightly furrow his brows.

“Heh, Feng Yan, don’t flatter me. The male lead in my agency hasn’t signed with my company, so what’s my responsibility?” Shen Lei chuckled and deftly sidestepped the issue, “I heard that Director Wang is holding auditions for a new film today. I just brought this kid to see the excitement.”

As he spoke, he patted Jiang Qi’s shoulder.

The clear stance of maintaining and expressing a desire to leave made the horse-faced Feng Yan’s face stiffen. After a moment, he smiled naturally, “Well, Director Wang is inside—Old Shen, we’ll go ahead.”

With that, he pulled the man next to him away. Just before leaving, he glanced meaningfully at Jiang Qi.

“Don’t bother, Feng Yan is just like that.” Shen Lei, having been in the industry for a long time, knew the ins and outs of the business. Watching Feng Yan walk away, he sneered, “In the past two years, he brought in a few popular stars for Yan Media, got praised as a ‘top agent’ for a while, and now he thinks he’s invincible. Thinks he can handle anyone, probably considering making a move on you.”

Jiang Qi listened expressionlessly, showing no reaction. Shen Lei wasn’t sure if he was really listening or not, but from a friend’s perspective, he still patiently spoke to him:

“I don’t know if you have any plans to sign with a company, but if you’re thinking about it, it’s better not to sign with Feng Yan. Feng Yan has some ability, and his marketing tactics are top-notch, but suppressing the artists under him is also well-known. Many small stars are persuaded to sign and end up unable to terminate the contract. They can’t afford the penalty, and there’s nowhere to cry when that happens.”

Jiang Qi, who had been in the industry for three months, was often annoyed by these intricate and scheming situations.

His long eyebrows furrowed, and his stubborn temperament surfaced: “Are you even going to watch the audition?”

Without looking, he walked away.

Shen Lei cursed inwardly, hastily saying, “Yes, why else would I come?”

While they conversed, they walked into Hengdian Studios. Shen Lei handed his work ID to the staff at the entrance who were conducting thorough checks. Then, leading Jiang Qi through a side entrance, they went up to the second-floor audition room.

The ‘Director Wang’ mentioned by Feng Yan was a well-known veteran in the entertainment industry. Wang Zhaoqiu, a director who ranked in the top three domestically, had slowed down his production after turning fifty. Nowadays, he would only make a film every few years.

Every time there were rumors of a new project, even before the script was finalized, a swarm of people would be busy networking and trying to get involved. From award-winning actors and actresses to young idols who debuted in their teens, everyone wanted a piece of the action—even if it meant playing a supporting role.

A few years ago, Shen Lei had an unexpected collaboration with Director Wang Zhaoqiu, establishing some acquaintance. Bringing Jiang Qi this time was intended to broaden the young man’s horizons. Shen Lei knew that Jiang Qi had exceptional talent. To truly make it in this industry, one had to directly interact with the top figures to achieve the desired ‘broadening of horizons.’

The female lead for Wang Zhaoqiu’s film had long been decided—she was the daughter of the CEO of Shengxuan Media, the princess with numerous resources at her disposal, Yue Yuan. Even Director Wang Zhaoqiu had to give her face.

However, Yue Yuan was not just a product of her connections; she had qualities of her own. Whether in terms of looks or talent, she had no shortcomings, and her acting skills were commendable.

But the main attraction was still the lure of ‘bringing capital into the production.’

Although Wang Zhaoqiu had his pride, Shengxuan Media controlled the number of screenings after a film’s release. Sometimes, even the lofty artists had to compromise for the sake of bread. Fortunately, the most crucial role in the script, the male lead, had not been finalized yet.

Yue Yuan could easily be used as a tool—for example, in this audition. Wang Zhaoqiu had her spend the entire day performing scenes with male actors, and she had to reluctantly agree in a ‘dedicated’ manner. While Shen Lei was gossiping incessantly in his ear, Jiang Qi had already lowered his gaze, peering through the glass window into the audition room.

They stood in the observation room at a higher vantage point, listening to the conversations inside through headphones.

Jiang Qi heard Wang Zhaoqiu instructing the scriptwriter behind the scenes, “Call those boys in and let them try the scene from C7.”

Having some experience with reading scripts and acting, Jiang Qi understood that ‘C7’ referred to the seventh scene in the script. This was a segment where the autistic female lead, after being approached by the male lead with ulterior motives for quite some time, finally opened up.

The female lead timidly asked, “Will you be with me?”

While the male lead averted his gaze, he lied with forced composure, “Yes.”

A complete deception.

As Jiang Qi watched the first male actor go in for the audition, the conversation through the headphones at this point made his light-colored pupils contract. His slender fingers involuntarily gripped the railing, the knuckles turning white.

“Hmm?” Shen Lei noticed his unusual reaction, took off his headphones, and raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Jiang Qi’s eyes stared intensely at the dressing room, shaking his head slowly, hesitantly. Actually, it’s not much, but… this audition made him involuntarily recall his own past. Once, he was such a despicable deceiver of the girl who wholeheartedly trusted him.

The dialogue between the male and female protagonists in the audition room still echoed in his ears, word by word, as if overlapping with their past—

The boy’s voice tentatively asked: “If one day… I lied to you, would you forgive me?”

The girl’s voice was resolute: “Yes, because I know you like me.”

When you truly like someone, the bottom line tends to be infinitely lowered for them. Some foolish girls even consider occasional deception from their crush as ‘kind lies,’ just like Zhi Qi did for him. Jiang Qi couldn’t help but recall many years ago, that summer after their elementary school graduation. He promised to go to the Eighth Middle School with Zhi Qi, vowing not to part as classmates, but he lied.

Sometimes, Jiang Qi wishes his memory wasn’t so good, but every time he closes his eyes, the events of that year are vividly remembered. The summer at thirteen was the hottest in his memory, like a steamer, making people sweat profusely in the cramped space without air conditioning or fans, covered by thin T-shirts.

The untreated wounds seemed to ooze and decay, causing a tingling pain when the salty sweat passed over, making the person involuntarily frown. Jiang Qi lay on a steel wire bed less than a meter long, feeling like a piece of already rotting raw meat, ready to disappear at any moment in this confined space.

Just then, the lively voice of the girl woke him up entirely—

“Jiang Qi? Jiang Qi? Are you home?”

This… this is clearly Zhi Qi’s voice.

Jiang Qi was stunned for a moment, then somehow found the strength to jump up from the steel wire bed. His face was pale, and he looked almost skeletal, not resembling a human, but he still forcefully stood up and rushed out.

Jiang Qi remembered that in the cramped and foul-smelling living room at that time, he and Zhi Qi came face to face, and the girl clearly hesitated for a moment.

“Jiang, Jiang Qi, you haven’t been to school for a week? Why have you become so thin?” The girl with braided hair looked lively and healthy, her whole person radiant, but her gaze towards him was timid. “Are you okay? I heard from Teacher Li that you didn’t even attend the graduation ceremony, and I…”

“Leave.” Jiang Qi interrupted the girl’s words, his voice weak but with a hint of coldness.

Zhi Qi stared at him blankly, seemingly not understanding what Jiang Qi was saying.

The boy, on the other hand, became agitated, whether it was the wounds on his body or being stuck in this stuffy space with Zhi Qi, it made him restless to the point of discomfort. But what was most unsettling was the imminent danger that could arrive at any moment.

“Leave,” Jiang Qi repeated, laboriously raising his hand to point towards the door. He coldly issued an eviction order to the girl, “Leave now.”

This attitude prompted the class teacher, who taught the same class as Jiang Qi, to inquire about his address. Avoiding the family driver, the teacher endured the scorching sun, taking over an hour on the bus to reach the ‘Chen Kong Alley.’ Zhi Qi momentarily forgot the heat. The girl only felt wronged, looking at Jiang Qi’s unfamiliar cold expression, tears quickly welled up in Zhi Qi’s deep black eyes.

The narrow alley was hot and stuffy, and whether it was people or the densely packed houses, it felt like everything was being melted by the intense sunlight.

Outside the window, the irritating voice of the broken gong seller came: “Fagao—Fagao—”

It was an old man from the alley who went around selling pastries every noon. He would habitually shout a couple of times when he returned… the old man was back?

Jiang Qi, realizing this, unconsciously clenched his hand hanging at his side into a fist. His lustrous eyes were almost translucently misty, but when looking at people without expression, they turned extremely cold.

Now, like a restless bloodthirsty creature, like the dirty and untamed stray dog at the alley entrance… he had that kind of gaze.

Zhi Qi, being stared at by him, involuntarily took two steps back under such scrutiny.

“Jiang, Jiang Qi.” Having been together for two years, the girl had never seen the boy look so frightening. Her voice choked up involuntarily, and she tightly held onto her school bag. “What’s happening to you?”

“I haven’t done anything. Hurry and leave,” Jiang Qi gritted his teeth, moving forward to grab Zhi Qi’s delicate and easily breakable wrist, pulling her out of this dirty and dilapidated environment. “Don’t come here again.”

After saying this, as if afraid the girl wouldn’t understand, he emphasized again, stern and indifferent, “Zhi Qi, remember, never come here again.”

Zhi Qi was stunned, her fair face turning red and white alternately.

Tears kept rolling in her eyes, and for the first time, she glared at him fiercely. “Jiang Qi, you’re really annoying!”

The young girl had always been gentle and cute, but this time, she felt deeply wronged. After saying this, Zhi Qi turned and ran away. In a moment of carelessness, she stepped into a filthy puddle in the narrow alley.

Lin Lan always had rain, and the ground in the shabby alley of the shantytown was uneven and hadn’t been cleaned, naturally forming stagnant water. After being exposed to the scorching sun, it had a foul smell. Black droplets splashed onto the girl’s fair calves, and Zhi Qi subconsciously exclaimed, “Ah!” but that was it.

Then the stubborn girl bit her lip, ignoring that her entire white shoes had turned black from the mud. She ran away without saying a word.

Jiang Qi, under the blazing sun, “watched” her leave. After a while, he belatedly covered the wound on his arm. His eyes had a thin layer of mist, and in an instant, he woke up from a deep dream.

—He and Zhi Qi were actually not suitable to be friends at all. Even standing together was basically a disgrace to the girl.

She was in the clouds, and he was the dirtiest mud, a sick dog deeply trapped in the swamp, and no one could save him.

Zhi Qi, Jiang Qi stared at her figure, his lips silently opening and closing: farewell.

He was about to lie and break his promise about that promise to never part.