The year Zhui Ye arrived at the Southern Film City, he was eighteen, finally an adult.

He worked his way south, learning from society’s rough and tumble. He gradually figured out some of the entertainment industry’s ways. That year, although Zhang Zi had deceived him into pyramid schemes, there was one thing he hadn’t said wrong. Without connections or resources, wanting to enter the industry was too difficult.

It wasn’t that talent scouts didn’t approach him, but either they were shell companies—signing a contract would be self-destructive to one’s future. Or they wanted to recruit him as an idol, having him sing and dance.

He rejected without thinking: “Sorry, I only want to be an actor.”

Hearing his stubborn answer, the other rolled their eyes saying, “Why are you so inflexible! Idols who become popular can transition into acting. Do you really think the domestic market has room for idol development? It’s all just for harvesting fans. With popularity, acting later will be much easier than now.”

Zhui Ye was silent for a moment, then still shook his head.

He stubbornly believed he must debut as an actor—only then would he be on the same path as Elder Sister.

As for how to debut as an actor… those famous roles indeed couldn’t fall to him, but he could at least get extra roles as a background actor, right?

No matter the role size, as long as he could act, it was fine.

Holding this thought, he came alone to the film city, thinking this way he could start acting. He thought, with talent scouts approaching him, having a crew take him as an extra shouldn’t be difficult.

But he was still too naive.

Background actors also had their own unspoken rules: all filming notices, how many extras needed daily, were all controlled and distributed by specialized extra “local snakes.” And rash newcomers like him, if unwilling to be incorporated under these local snakes, couldn’t possibly get scraps from these bosses.

Zhui Ye didn’t know this at first. He wandered daily within the film city, but he couldn’t enter the crew’s filming studios. He couldn’t encounter directors with decision-making power, only being disdainfully driven away by a few stagehands roaming the entrance.

“Get lost quickly. Don’t delay our filming.”

They didn’t care how good-looking someone was or whether they had acting skills. If filming was disrupted, their wages would be deducted.

Zhui Ye had already come up empty for many days. This time he refused to leave easily, stubbornly saying, “You really don’t need people? My acting range is wide. I can play anything.”

“Then play a dog and get lost far away!”

When the two sides were at an impasse, a maid in costume walked out from the studio, poking her head out asking, “What’s this? Why so angry?”

Her eyes curved in a smile. In a few words, she coaxed the impatient stagehand’s frown smooth.

“Nothing, just someone making trouble.”

The woman’s gaze fell on Zhui Ye. She lost focus for a moment, then heard Zhui Ye directly ask, “You’re an actor?”

“I’m called Qi Yue.” She smiled bitterly. “Actor? If background boards also count as actors, then yes.”

Then she heard this handsome big boy ask her.

“Are you still short on background boards?”

The production Qi Yue was filming at the time didn’t lack extras, but she introduced Zhui Ye to Brother Long.

Brother Long was this area’s most well-known extra boss. Apart from taking higher commissions, which drew complaints, resource-wise there was nothing to criticize.

“Follow him, being a background board won’t be a worry.”

“Thanks. I’ll treat you to a meal.” Zhui Ye fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a few yuan, saying awkwardly, “…Is instant noodles okay?”

Qi Yue burst out laughing, finding this boy truly too cute.

“How old are you this year?”

“Eighteen.”

“So young.” Qi Yue clicked her tongue. “Coming out to hustle at such a young age?”

“Because I want to be an actor.”

I want to, not I wish to. One word difference, yet it made Qi Yue feel this was truly an extremely arrogant kid. But this arrogance didn’t make people feel dislike. It seemed like this was exactly what should come from his mouth.

“I thought the same way initially. Result—two years later…” Qi Yue sighed imperceptibly, internally very envious of Zhui Ye’s newborn calf vigor. “The best role I’ve had is this current one—a maid in the protagonist’s room who can say a few lines.”

Zhui Ye didn’t know how to comfort her. He stuffed the prepared cup noodles into her hands, and also secretly picked out the tiny beef bits he could scoop from his own bowl to put in hers.

Qi Yue looked at his face, stating with finality, “But you’re not like me. I think you’ll become famous. You’re the best-looking boy I’ve seen in this film city.”

Brother Long’s good resources meant his reputation was also big. The passersby A, B, C, D who sought him out were many. As a newcomer, Zhui Ye couldn’t even make the list. After waiting several days, he finally got a big production that needed especially many extras. Just as they were about to film a large scene, his turn finally came.

Finally having a first role!

The night before filming, Zhui Ye moved into the hostel Brother Long uniformly arranged. Listening to the thunderous snoring from the upper bunk and the extremely poor soundproofing with bed sounds from next door, all the noise tortured his tense nerves. But he turned a deaf ear, turning on the bedside night light, staring at the script page Brother Long gave.

Strictly speaking, it was just a line of notes: Cheering is enough.

They were playing audiences watching a sports competition, placed among thousands in a stadium. No expressions needed, no lines needed—just shouting wildly was fine.

This was even more background than background board. At least with fewer people, you could barely get your blurred face on camera. With many people and a large venue, it was like finding ants with a magnifying glass—everyone looked exactly the same.

He looked at that note slip over and over several times, folded it, properly placing it against his chest. As if worried it would disappear, his hand always intentionally or unintentionally touched there. Eyes open, unable to sleep.

He quietly got out of bed and came to the corridor outside—actually quieter than inside the room.

Therefore, the talking and dragging sounds from upstairs were very obvious.

Zhui Ye immediately went to check the situation, discovering Qi Yue being dragged toward a room. The person dragging her was Brother Long.

“Bro, I got my period today. Really can’t…!”

Qi Yue’s face was pale, feet nailed to the ground unwilling to follow him.

Brother Long’s expression was impatient. “Your mouth didn’t get a period, right?”

He continued forcefully dragging inward. Qi Yue was still struggling, clearly unwilling. Her wrist was already pinched into a circle of red marks. During the two people’s tussle, Brother Long saw Zhui Ye below through the staircase gap, shouting at him, “What are you looking at? Get lost!”

Zhui Ye’s expression was relaxed. He moved his limbs, not retreating but advancing, step by step ascending the stairs.

“Hey, don’t do anything stupid!”

Qi Yue sensed something wrong and shouted loudly. Too late.

Zhui Ye’s fist clenched with a crunching sound, throwing itself without hesitation toward Brother Long’s face.

Since being deceived into the pyramid scheme at sixteen, he understood the importance of self-defense. These two years he never slacked on exercise. Plus, in society these two years, there were always hooligans who saw him alone and easy to bully, trying to pick fights. Therefore, what he was most practiced at was fighting. The knuckles swinging out were sharp as a small knife.

Brother Long took a punch and laughed in fury, looking at Qi Yue saying, “Great! So that’s why you introduced people to me—turns out it’s your new lover. Fine, you’re really fucking great!” He picked up a brick from the corner, hurling it at Zhui Ye. “Get lost, both of you! With me around, don’t think about continuing to mix in this area! Understand?! Fuck you both.”

Brother Long slammed the room door cursing. Qi Yue watched the two clash, her back completely soaked. When the door slammed, she slid down against the wall corner, messily scratching her head.

She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her bosom, tossing one to Zhui Ye. “Can you smoke?”

He shook his head, casually stuffing the cigarette in his pocket, asking with concern, “Are you alright?”

She lit the cigarette, skillfully exhaling smoke rings. “It’s fine. Thanks for tonight.”

“You can report to police. I can testify for you. Otherwise he’ll do this again next time.”

“…Little brother, really no need. Brother Long and I—it’s not the first time.”

Zhui Ye tilted his head puzzled. “You two… are a couple?”

“Of course not!” Qi Yue leaned against the wall laughing. “He and I just have a mutually beneficial relationship. Otherwise, how do you think I got that maid role? He has so many female extras under him. By seniority, it wouldn’t be my turn.”

Hearing this, Zhui Ye froze.

“Don’t show such a surprised expression.” She silently grinned, saying mockingly, “Isn’t everyone in the industry like this? Even those top A-list actresses can’t escape. My luck is just a bit worse—I can only latch onto Brother Long. If only I could be like Wu Man, latching onto someone like Yu Jiaze instead.”

Zhui Ye’s fingertips hanging at his side trembled slightly.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Wu Man, that very popular actress now. You don’t even know her?”

Zhui Ye unprecedentedly intensified his tone, expression serious. “I won’t allow you to slander her behind her back like this!”

He had just fought for her, yet now was giving her a harsh look again. Were all young people this moody and unpredictable? Qi Yue was puzzled.

“Slander…? This is gossip everyone knows. If you don’t believe me, go ask around. It’s not me smearing her behind her back. Moreover, I saw it with my own eyes.” She stated confidently, “I was an extra in a production Wu Man starred in before. I personally saw Yu Jiaze come visit the set, putting his arm around her getting in the RV. He even gave everyone a cup of milk tea.”

Zhui Ye clenched his teeth. His breathing became heavy. He said twice in succession this was impossible.

Qi Yue thought briefly, suddenly understanding. “She’s your idol, right? Can’t handle hearing even this little tidbit? I’m telling you, this circle is dirty. Not as clean as you think. Stay a few more years and you’ll know completely.”

Zhui Ye answered irrelevantly, repeatedly taking deep breaths. The veins on his forehead bulged then sank.

He warned her in a low voice, “You’re not allowed to spread such rumors outside again. Don’t let me hear it again, or I won’t consider that you once helped me.”

“Ridiculous! You can shut my mouth—can you shut everyone else’s?” Qi Yue was also angered by what he said, speaking without choosing words. “Little brother, don’t think yourself so omnipotent. At least you can’t even beat Brother Long. What, coming to lecture me now? That’s not how you help those in distress!”

Zhui Ye didn’t continue arguing with the woman. He turned and ran down the stairs.

He ran faster and faster and faster. Like an out-of-control old large truck, finally out of fuel, heavily stopping in front of a tobacco and liquor shop, gasping for breath while gripping his knees, wiping sweat from his forehead and eye corners. The cigarette in his pocket fell out. Zhui Ye picked it up, staring at it in a daze for a while.

Nearby, a crew was still filming through the night, so the shop was still open. He hesitated for a while, then walked into the shop for a pack of matches.

Before long, under the pitch-black utility pole outside the shop, a cluster of firelight suddenly lit up, illuminating the young man’s figure leaning against the pole.

With not-so-practiced posture, he held the cigarette, using the match stick’s small flame to approach the cigarette tip. The inferior cigarette’s smell drifted out, making one want to vomit.

He choked while smoking. His other hand still pinched the match, observing it swaying in the wind, looking like it would extinguish any moment.

Yet it was clearly almost out, but in the end stubbornly burned, burning in this cold night where breath turned to ice.

Like that bit of firelight in his heart.

When Wang Cheng came out from the studio, this was the scene he saw.

The youth shakily smoked, looking like he was about to vomit from nausea, yet still one puff after another. His expression was complex and obsessed, as if tobacco was the only thing in this world that could relieve his pain at this moment.

Wang Cheng’s departing footsteps paused. He stopped curiously. He had an interest in observing humanity—this was an essential quality for being a director. Observing interesting human nature, then depicting it.

He waited for the youth to finish this inferior cigarette. The other raised his eyes, meeting his gaze in the darkness.

Wang Cheng was shaken.

Looking so young in appearance—how could he have such wounded eyes? Wang Cheng couldn’t help thinking, these were truly eyes that placed on the big screen, without saying anything, would make people feel there was a story.

The key point was, this scene made him quickly recall the script he was about to finish, “The Rebel Son.” There was a scene where the male lead also smoked like this—what went down was dull pain, what came out was ruthless determination, a ruthless determination to fight against an unkind heaven and earth.

In his heart, he actually already had other candidates long ago. But at this moment, his keen intuition told him he couldn’t miss this.

Just like that, on yet another boundless black night when Zhui Ye encountered overwhelming disaster in his life, that unextinguished match stick endured to the end in the wind, bringing him a new turning point.

Wang Cheng extended the olive branch of an audition, but didn’t give him a script.

Not until going to the audition venue did Zhui Ye know what role he would play. But he guessed it should be some background board without lines, right? He had already looked up Wang Cheng online. The other was a very remarkable big director. Probably out of rigor toward his work, he would personally put thought into auditioning even extras.

He never thought there would be roles other than extras given to him. He only knew that no matter how small this role was, he had to take it.

The desire to enter the industry had never been stronger than at this moment. He had to ask Elder Sister face to face whether the outside rumors were true.

But the prerequisite was—he had to have the qualification to stand before her and ask, to be looked at differently by her and worth her attention.

Along with him participating in the audition were several other boys. They all knew each other—after all, all were currently the most popular young actors in the industry. After greeting each other, everyone simultaneously looked at Zhui Ye sitting in the most remote corner, conveying a questioning look.

“Do you know him?”

“Don’t know him. Never seen him.”

They whispered to each other. After knowing Zhui Ye had no background, they relaxed, not taking this unknown youth seriously. Although Zhui Ye’s appearance was outstanding, compared to appearance, acting skills and backing support were the crucial factors.

In these aspects, the other famous young actors were each other’s real rivals.

They thought this was an ordinary audition. Although Wang Cheng didn’t send them scripts in advance, probably this role tested improvisation ability.

Until the director’s assistant appeared, saying they needed everyone to take a car to another location where Wang Cheng was waiting for them. Only then did everyone feel this audition was unusual.

Everyone was confused but still complied and got in the vehicle. Zhui Ye was squeezed into the passenger seat next to the driver, listening to the bunch in the cabin start boasting—you won some award, I filmed some production.

Zhui Ye couldn’t help being somewhat curious—why were these impressive people competing with him for an extra role?

He was very puzzled. His nerves became even more tense.

The vehicle drove all the way to the suburbs, stopping on a grassland. This was a horse ranch. Many crews liked filming outdoor horse-riding scenes here. The only inadequacy was the railroad right beside the ranch. After filming, they needed to use extensive special effects to erase the railroad.

Wang Cheng led several horses toward these youths who had just gotten out of the car, saying, “Today’s audition test for you is horse riding.”

“Horse riding?” Everyone exchanged glances. “Just need to ride horses?”

This was too simple. They all had experience filming period dramas or Republican era dramas. Horse riding was simply a piece of cake.

Zhui Ye silently pressed his lips tight.

He couldn’t ride, but he wouldn’t show weakness.

Wang Cheng half-concealed, saying, “The role you’re playing—he’s very arrogant, very wild, a great rebel son. With this character’s personality, use your own method to present the action of riding horses.”

Zhui Ye raised his hand at this time. “Can I go last?”

This way he’d have sufficient time to observe and learn.

Wang Cheng nodded indifferently. His gaze had already focused on the first youth mounting the horse. The other was high-spirited, skillfully galloping at full speed.

Wang Cheng disappointedly lowered his eyes, calling the next one.

Another learned from the mistake. Relying on good riding skills, he did some exaggerated and dangerous moves on the horse. Wang Cheng watched from below, frowning and uttering a few words: “Superficial, sensational.”

Hearing him say this, the rest got chills on their scalps. How exactly should they ride to satisfy this big director?

After a full round, Wang Cheng’s expression already showed fatigue. But seeing the last person up was Zhui Ye, he still revealed a different kind of expectation.

The result…

Wang Cheng watched Zhui Ye repeatedly fail to mount the horse, both amused and helpless. His face quickly collapsed.

“Forget it. Don’t mount the horse. Let’s end here today.”

Once he spoke, the other youths couldn’t help showing mocking smiles. Although they couldn’t guess who would be Wang Cheng’s TOP 1 today, at least this bottom candidate was definitively nailed down—this guy who couldn’t even ride a horse.

Yet during Wang Cheng’s words, Zhui Ye shamelessly climbed up, roughly hugging the horse’s neck, shouting down below, “I can do it!”

Wang Cheng watched heart-stricken—this was completely a novice. What if something happened?

He immediately had someone lead the horse. But Zhui Ye, following others’ example, whipped the horse’s rear first. The horse, in pain, bolted forward madly.

Everyone was both amused and worried. Some were watching the show. All this was simply too ridiculous, making people can’t help wondering if Zhui Ye thought he was auditioning for some New Year comedy.

Zhui Ye jolted violently on the horse’s back. He deeply knew his current back view absolutely couldn’t be called dashing. More precisely, it was incomparably awkward.

But for him, as long as he wasn’t thrown off, it was a kind of victory.

Just—to stand out was far from enough.

On the railroad beside, a train sped toward them. Zhui Ye touched the mane, heart wildly jumping.

He only had this one chance. How to win?

Zhui Ye’s gaze swept past the cold train cars section by section. It was imposing, like a steel dragon chasing from behind. In an instant, it broke through Zhui Ye’s blocked nerves.

He laughed loudly on the horse’s back. “Dragon and horse—who runs faster? Why don’t we race?”

Then, his arms exerted force, whipping the horse’s rear several more times.

Behind him, the watching crowd was already dumbfounded. Just an audition—was he risking his life? With his level of skill, still accelerating without limit—truly seeking death.

Yet Zhui Ye couldn’t think that much. He only knew he had to win.

What did life count for anyway? Life was something shorter than a finger snap. When it’s time to go all out, go all out. Because there existed things more eternal than life that could transcend time.

When the tiny horse body surpassed the massive steel dragon, Zhui Ye excitedly raised his arms cheering.

The consequence was—at that moment, the world spun.

He was directly thrown from the horse, rotating a circle in mid-air, heavily falling to the ground.

Zhui Ye felt bones inside his body seemed to have broken, piercing through something, causing imprisoned pain to rush out competing. But some suppression and stuffiness that had been restrained were also simultaneously liberated. He lay on the ground laughing with thread-like breath, feeling incomparably exhilarated.

Both he and the horse had already run out of sight, so much so that Wang Cheng and the others only later found him following the horse’s hoofprints.

And he remained conscious enduring the pain, waiting until the second before Wang Cheng found him.

“Director, horses can outrun dragons.” Zhui Ye lay paralyzed on the ground, eyes full of wind-blown bloodshot. “So this extra role—can I also run?”

Wang Cheng was deeply shaken, murmuring, “This kid… won’t succeed without going mad.”

From then on, a unique rebel son was born in this world.

Two years later, on the eve of the Golden Statue Awards ceremony.

Zhui Ye flipped through the ceremony’s guest list, seeing Wu Man.

He put down the list, neurotically pacing back and forth. Only after pulling out a cigarette from his pocket did he slowly calm down somewhat.

He had already learned how to use a lighter to ignite fire, learned how to smoke without choking. But the second tobacco seeped onto his tongue coating, he became again that child empty-handed, raising his head in the dimly lit screening room looking at the big screen.

On screen was his pursuit over these years. Starting from Qingling, to the great northwest, then to the south. Those once hopeless dull pains all escaped from his mouth with the smoke. What remained was an indescribable joy. It was excitement, it was trepidation, it was a trembling wanting to cry.

Because this one-man show with no audience had finally concluded.

One minute on stage, ten years of work below.

Finally, finally, the stage lights shone on him. Below stage, the audience he most wanted to invite had already sat down.

So then—how to make an entrance?

Since he was a rebel son, make a rebellious entrance then.

No need to fear the twists and turns within. Because at the story’s end, you will definitely fall in love with me—

—End of Text—

—

Author’s Note:

The full text ends here. From August to November, summer to winter—whether you’re a friend who chased from the very beginning or readers who joined midway, thank you all very much for your companionship. All genuine chapter-following readers who comment within 24 hours on the ending Falling Into Spring Night – Chapter will receive red packets! Full-subscription readers can additionally draw for large amounts of Jinjiang coins (Full-subscription friends, move your little fingers to rate it, okay? :))

All nonsense said, truly thank you very much. See you in the next book~ (Since I mentioned it, let me advertise my advance collection again -v-

Advance collection “Eye of the Storm Butterfly” everyone click on my column to collect, okay? (Okay!

Synopsis: Typhoon day, rainy alley.

Jiang Die comes to attend “agreement fake boyfriend’s” birthday party, ending up trapped here by the typhoon.

Everyone simply plays wildly all night, taking advantage of it being a villa, turning party music to maximum volume.

1 AM, the second-floor room door that had been motionless opens.

In the shadows, a man leans at the corner, eyelids drooping drowsily.

“Can you keep it down?”

Carrying the nasal tone of not being fully awake, he still seems excessively cold.

All girls present except Jiang Die steal glances at him, secretly blushing.

“Who’s that?”

The boyfriend jokes, “Our department’s famous ‘Unreachable Moon.’ This villa is his.”

When the party reaches dawn, everyone is drunk sprawled in the living room.

Jiang Yan comes down from upstairs but sees Jiang Die is the only sober person.

Outside the window, violent rain pours. Her tone is damp as she deliberately asks him.

“They’re all asleep. I made extra breakfast. Want to eat together?”

Jiang Yan looks down at the white porridge she cooked into rice soup…

“Thanks, but I don’t like eating it.” He glances at her. “Bland.”

Jiang Die suppresses the desire to dump porridge on his head.

The typhoon’s most violent night, everyone sits around playing board games.

Wild wind rages. The villa suddenly loses power.

Jiang Die has night blindness, reflexively grabbing the fake boyfriend’s hand beside her.

He unusually gives her unnecessary gentleness, index finger lightly scratching her palm in comfort.

Long after, Jiang Die learns—

That night, the person who took advantage of darkness to sit beside her was Jiang Yan.

Unreachable moon white-cut-black x Pure fishing-style black-cut-white

She’s a butterfly thinking herself clever, crashing headlong into the turbulent eye of the storm

Final thanks to the little angels still throwing mines and irrigating for me

Thanks to little angels who threw grenades: Milk-flavored Soda 1;

Thanks to little angels who threw mines: Milk-flavored Soda 3; myvanillaworld 2; Handsome, 48467734 1;

Thanks to little angels irrigating nutrient solution: Yueban Orange 20 bottles; Milk-flavored Soda 10 bottles; Wind Blowing Rain 9 bottles; Naihe 3 bottles; One Raincoat Through Mist and Rain, Baldy Big’s Number One Fan 2 bottles; –

Thank you! I really do have a lot of nonsense…