In the darkness, Ji Juntao couldn't see Shang Yechu's expression. Yet, he inexplicably felt that the other's eyes were frighteningly bright, like two pools of water under the moonlight.
Realizing this, Ji Juntao frowned: "Why aren't the lights on?" He then got up to turn on the lights.
It was pitch black. Only Ji Juntao, that black-hearted crocodile, didn't believe in supernatural forces; anyone else would have been terrified by Shang Yechu.
Shang Yechu pressed Ji Juntao down, staring intently down at him: "Wait a minute! I understand!"
"Huh?" Ji Juntao had just woken up and was still a little slurred. "Do you know Sen?"
Shang Yechu exclaimed excitedly, "I know how to act well!"
"Huh?" Ji Juntao perked up completely. "Really? Tell me quickly."
"The most important thing to play Li Yiming well is 'belief'!"
"Believe in what?"
“People don’t fight and struggle for the wrong things. Even if they make a seemingly wrong choice, they are necessarily striving for the right outcome in the end. She chose this path precisely because it is the right one,” Shang Yechu said urgently. “She firmly believes it is the right one!”
"..." Ji Juntao was actually a little confused by Shang Yechu's words. "Ah, believe, believe what?"
What can an undercover agent still believe?
“The undercover agent may seem suspicious of everything—but in fact, the undercover agent is the one who has given the most trust,” Shang Yechu explained, suppressing his excitement. “He believes in his comrades and his fellow soldiers, and he believes that his path is the right one.”
Ji Juntao didn't know how to respond for a moment, so he could only nod and say, "Oh."
Shang Yechu, immersed in excitement, rattled off a string of questions: "Undercover agents need to disregard life and death, change their names, and even spend their entire lives unable to live in the sunlight. How could anyone endure such a life without an extremely strong and devout faith as their pillar?"
Swords, spears, and halberds are merely weapons; lurking and maneuvering are simply methods.
Li Yiming's roots were never in these things—she didn't infiltrate for the sake of infiltration, nor did she infiltrate to become a hero. Her driving force was that blazing red flag and that inspiring phrase, "Workers of the world, unite!"
"Stop, stop, stop." Ji Juntao's eyelids started to droop as he listened. "Why are you calling me to say this in the middle of the night? Is this what you've figured out after five days of seclusion?"
Shang Yechu was a little taken aback.
“No,” Shang Yechu emphasized instinctively, “Didn’t you understand? An apple tree without ‘roots’ can’t bear apples. The reason Li Yiming went undercover—”
"After all that rambling, I thought you'd really mastered acting. But it's just the same old clichés about ideals and beliefs." Ji Juntao yawned. "Nine out of ten of your films emphasize that. If you go down that path, the formula is getting old, and the leaders at Ruguan TV might not like it."
"..."
Like being doused with a bucket of cold water, Shang Yechu's overheated brain, which had been burning with excitement, cooled down.
At seven o'clock in the evening, the city lights outside the window shone brightly. The lights of thousands of homes shone through the window lattice and reflected on Ji Juntao's face, making her look like a colorful female demon.
Ji Juntao stood up and turned on the light. The light came on, filling the room with a blinding white glow, and the succubus transformed back into Ji Juntao.
"Anyone can spout these theories," Ji Juntao stretched. "You have to put them into practice. Oh dear! What happened to you?"
Shang Yechu was emaciated, her face haggard. Although she had always been sickly thin, the Shang Yechu standing before Ji Juntao now was practically skin and bones. Her bright, unsettling eyes were set in their sockets, looking like two ornaments stuffed into a skull.
Ji Juntao jumped up and clapped his hands in distress around Shang Yechu, exclaiming, "Grandma! You're such a troublemaker! The audition is the day after tomorrow, how can you look like this?!"
Ji Juntao tugged at Shang Yechu's hair, picked it up, smelled it, and then tossed it aside.
"Your hair smells terrible. Have you not showered or washed your hair for days?" Ji Juntao said irritably. "Even if the odds are slim, you can't just give up."
Shang Yechu stared blankly at Ji Juntao, then looked down at the clothes she hadn't changed in days, and suddenly felt a sense of absurdity.
Seeing Shang Yechu's expression, Ji Juntao immediately realized that his attitude was inappropriate for Shang Yechu, who had come so late at night. He quickly tried to make amends, saying, "There's a bathroom downstairs, go take a shower. I'll have someone buy you some clothes."
Shang Yechu didn't answer. The lights were turned on, but the room felt even more desolate and awkward than when it was dark. Ji Juntao couldn't think of anything to say, and could only watch as Shang Yechu sat down in her seat, head bowed in a daze.
"I should have just agreed with her a couple of times," Ji Juntao thought with some annoyance. People's minds are indeed foggy when they first wake up, making it easy to say the wrong thing.
They had prepared for the situation to remain deadlocked, but unexpectedly, Shang Yechu took the initiative to start a conversation.
Shang Yechu picked up a piece of paper from the table and glanced at the words on it: "What's this? An advertisement looking for me?"
"No." Ji Juntao breathed a sigh of relief. "It was Gu Wenhua who asked me to help him organize his acne treatment and skincare products. I was too busy before, but I managed to organize them for him today."
"Oh." Shang Yechu nodded, and even smiled. "He's much more refined than me."
The lighthearted tone of those words eased the awkwardness of the situation, and Ji Juntao, seizing the opportunity, laughed and said, "Alright, go take a break and go take a shower. I'll have someone go buy you some clothes first."
Shang Yechu put the paper back on the table and stood up: "Understood."
Ji Juntao turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment before turning back and saying, "Oh, right, the audition is the day after tomorrow. Please remember that."
"knew."
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