Mad Dog

*Restarting is his starting point, but whether it will be his ending remains unknown.
# “Pride and Prejudice” crew officially announces resumption of filming #.
This headline came with an [explosive] label, rapidly climbing to the top of the trending list.
In the sweltering heat of early August, the first major bombshell in the entertainment industry caught the online audience of gossiping onlookers off guard, leaving them stunned. However, before anyone could question how this film would restart or whether the cast would be replaced, another ‘bomb’ dropped.
# “Pride and Prejudice” will continue filming with the original cast #.
Exm??? The original cast??? Is this official account really not mistaken?
Isn’t the leading man Jiang Qi, the male lead of this ‘big male lead drama,’ already out of the industry? How can they say it’s the original cast?!
Forums exploded with various speculations, with many netizens eagerly suggesting that Jiang Qi might be making a return to the entertainment industry—after all, the official Weibo announcement surely wouldn’t be nonsensical, right?
But even with some psychological preparation, when paparazzi captured two blurry candid shots of Jiang Qi rejoining the crew, the internet erupted.
He just said he was retiring, and now he’s back? Jiang Qi, such a poor-quality artist, seems to take the audience for fools with his unpredictable comings and goings!
Aside from a handful of loyal fans rejoicing over Jiang Qi’s return, most netizens were outraged, transforming into self-righteous ‘keyboard warriors’ who eagerly criticized him online.
[= =: So he said he was retiring and now he’s back? Is this a poor-quality artist unable to resist returning to make money after just six months?]
[= =: Brothers, put # Jiang Qi, the Emperor of Fluctuation # and # Jiang Qi, the Balanced Emperor # on the screen!]
[= =: Hahaha, don’t forget # Jiang Qi, the Emperor of Back-and-Forth #.]
[= =: Shh, beware of depression and bipolar disorder warnings; better not provoke him.]
[= =: In this day and age, those who are ill don’t seek treatment but drag their ‘sick bodies’ to struggle in the entertainment industry to wash their reputation? Truly not easy.]
[= =: Lower your voice, this is merely Schrödinger’s depression; sometimes it exists, and sometimes it doesn’t (.]
[= =: I feel sorry for those two extras who were beaten by Jiang Qi. Do small fries deserve to be beaten? How can such a poor-quality artist return? This industry is truly corrupt!]
[= =: Don’t ask; just know that the Emperor Jiang Qi has descended as a purple star; who wouldn’t want to withdraw from the series but is forced to come back?]
[= =: Is it considered online violence if I post # Jiang Qi get out of the entertainment industry #? I’m so scared of shattering his fragile heart and triggering his depression, tsk tsk. Will I get a lawyer’s warning?]
[= =: To be honest, it’s slander that would bring a lawyer’s warning; is saying Jiang Qi get out of the entertainment industry slander?]
[= =: Just expressing my viewpoint, Jiang Qi truly deserves to be the youngest Emperor; the purple star Emperor, both on and off the screen (dog head).]
…
All the forums were flooded with these sarcastic comments, and it didn’t take long for # Jiang Qi get out of the entertainment industry # and # Jiang Qi’s Back-and-Forth Shenanigans # to hit the trending list.
Some media companies, feeling that Jiang Qi’s return was obstructing their interests, sent out trolls to post black comments. Of course, there were also die-hard Jiang Qi haters and some fence-sitting passersby riding the trend, keeping the heat up.
After all, making a grand announcement about ‘black history’ and then declaring a retirement only to return after more than six months was shocking enough to make passersby roll their eyes—how could they not criticize?
But Jiang Qi was too busy to care about all this.
Entering August, he seemed to return to his previous state.
Without the backing of a company to ‘cleanse’ him, Shen Lei still sent Qiu Mi back to Jiang Qi’s side as his assistant, helping him manage an overwhelming number of invitations and engagements.
Jiang Qi’s job was to read scripts, grasp the essence of the role ‘Chen Si,’ immerse himself in the character, and methodically finish filming “Pride and Prejudice.”
But unlike the previous feelings of ‘loneliness’ in his efforts, this time, Jiang Qi had Zhi Qi by his side.
Whenever she had free time, the girl would come to the set to see Jiang Qi, keeping him company as they read the script together and delved into the character.
After a few times, Qu Heng realized what Zhi Qi meant to Jiang Qi.
When she appeared, it was as if the ancient, unyielding iceberg around Jiang Qi was showing signs of ‘melting.’ The youthful spirit he rarely displayed finally surfaced, transforming him into a real boy of merely twenty-two, filled with innocent anticipation.
The entire crew of “Pride and Prejudice” took a week to return to work, reading scripts and understanding their characters. A week later, they all re-signed their contracts.
When it was Jiang Qi’s turn, Qu Heng hesitated and asked him again: “Are you really not going to take a salary?”
“Hmm.” Jiang Qi responded, pulling the contract from Qu Heng’s hands and simply signing his name with his head bowed.
During this time, Zhi Qi had bought him a calligraphy book to practice his writing again, and the boy’s writing was no longer as clumsy as before.
Qu Heng’s gaze was complicated: “I’m not sure whether to thank you or…”
“No need to thank me.” Jiang Qi interrupted him, lifting his head. His amber eyes seemed to have a thin layer of glass covering them, easily creating a distance he considered ‘safe’ from others. Then he honestly said, “I’m here to repay a debt.”
“Pride and Prejudice” was halted because of him, and now it was resuming because of him.
It truly became a ‘full circle’ moment.
On the first day of resuming filming, Jiang Qi initially thought he would find it very difficult to act.
However, when the crew returned to the outdoor set in Chen Kong Hutong, and he stepped back into this ‘old home,’ he unexpectedly found a strange sense of tranquility—completely different from the restlessness he had felt over half a year ago, as if his blood was about to burst from his veins.
Now, Jiang Qi could genuinely regard this former nightmare as a mere ruin, simply a filming location.
He was no longer Jiang Qi but Chen Si.
Once he immersed himself in the character, the filming proceeded smoothly.
Qu Heng captured every subtle expression and movement of Jiang Qi from the camera’s perspective, and a smile finally appeared on his face after disappearing for months.
He just knew.
Persisting in having Jiang Qi return as the male lead and finish filming “Pride and Prejudice” was an absolute right decision.
In fact, although the first scene after resuming filming was the previously unfinished outdoor scene, Qu Heng had discussed with Jiang Qi the possibility of changing the location. It would be a shame to change it—because that scene in Chen Kong Hutong was still reserved, and Jiang Qi’s interpretation of the chaotic, humble feelings in the character was on point; changing it would require reshooting that segment.
However, at this moment, the priority was to consider the actors’ emotions.
Yet Jiang Qi had refused.
At this moment, Qu Heng understood that Jiang Qi’s refusal to change the filming location was similar to the saying ‘to eliminate a beast, one must first submit to it.’ Jiang Qi wanted to pull out the thorn in his heart, so he couldn’t avoid the thorns before him.
Avoidance would only make a person weak.
After this scene, Qu Heng finally felt a complete release.
He forgave Jiang Qi for his sudden emotional outburst and understood the melancholy and anger he had felt over the past few months due to the film’s ‘miscarriage.’
After this scene, Qu Heng couldn’t help but walk over and hugged Jiang Qi, who looked somewhat surprised—though the moment felt strangely ‘charged,’ Qu Heng genuinely couldn’t hold back.
He felt as if he had regained a rare treasure that had slipped away and returned to his hands.
Surprise, joy, satisfaction… a mix of emotions.
“Jiang Qi, let’s start anew.” Qu Heng patted his shoulder heavily, filled with excitement. “You’re a good actor.”
The scene just performed depicted Chen Si being bullied by classmates in Chen Kong Hutong and then reflecting alone in the alley. The feelings of confusion, vulnerability, and loneliness were so well captured that Qu Heng couldn’t bear to call for a cut.
Because of his delayed call, Jiang Qi curled up in the shabby alley, his frail body gradually extending, gently raising his head.
It was as if he were striving to find light from this cramped, filthy alley, desperately trying to see the sun.
Jiang Qi repeatedly claimed he ‘couldn’t act,’ but everything he did was what a quality actor should do.
He was fully immersed, unafraid of getting dirty while acting, even helping his director rectify his mistakes… Qu Heng thought that if Jiang Qi claimed again that he couldn’t act, he would be furious.
The man adjusted his glasses with his fingers, composed himself, and sternly said, “From now on, you must not say you can’t
act anymore.”
Jiang Qi subtly raised the corner of his mouth but didn’t respond, only extending his hand to wipe the dirt from his face—having just crawled around in the grimy set.
He guessed that Zhi Qi would probably come over to check on him today, so it was better to tidy up beforehand; it didn’t matter how dirty he was, but his face had to be kept clean.
Qu Heng didn’t notice this detail about him being so ‘image-conscious,’ still lost in joy.
Once the crew exited the shabby alley in Chen Kong Hutong and arrived at a spacious outdoor area, Jiang Qi scanned the surroundings and, as expected, caught sight of Zhi Qi next to Qiu Mi, her delicate face showing evident concern.
Jiang Qi’s eyes lit up, and he quickly walked over.
Seeing him head straight for her, Qiu Mi quickly handed him the prepared wet towel and clothes: “Ge Qi, wipe your face…”
But the next second, Jiang Qi’s eyes were fixed on Zhi Qi beside him, grinning like a village idiot: “You’re here!”
……
Qiu Mi, completely ignored, felt a million curses bubbling inside him.
His presence was like an overly bright light bulb.
“Hmm.” Zhi Qi, relieved to see Jiang Qi in good spirits, smiled as she took a wet wipe from her bag to clean his face: “Was the shoot smooth?”
She had been worried, fearing that Jiang Qi might react poorly upon returning here. Only now, seeing him smile at her and nodding, did she feel at ease.
The girl smiled, but the next second, she took out a bottle of medicine from her bag, pouring two pills into her pristine palm.
Then she reached out to Jiang Qi, stating firmly, “It’s time for your medicine.”
Zhi Qi was like a merciless supervisor, reminding Jiang Qi daily to take his medication since his return to the entertainment industry, setting alarms or personally nudging him about it.
Jiang Qi’s eyes narrowed, and he spread out his dirty hand.
Zhi Qi couldn’t help but understand his intentions and laughed as she watched him for a moment before reaching out to feed him the medicine.
As her delicate fingers approached, Jiang Qi nearly bit them, causing Zhi Qi to quickly retract her hand with a squeal, playfully glaring at him.
Qiu Mi, watching them display affection so openly in public, felt his eyes might be blinded by the brilliance.
At the same time, he worried that the lurking paparazzi would capture this moment. Although the “Pride and Prejudice” crew maintained strict confidentiality, with the electric network and staff carrying laser pointers…
Qiu Mi still nervously scanned the area, and when his gaze landed on the upper left corner of a low building in this rundown area, he froze slightly.
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he felt like he saw a camera’s light flashing over there.