From now on, whether in interviews or with fans, if anyone asks about this scene, Yang Huanyi can openly say that she personally performed the action scenes. Shang Yechu, on the other hand, can only remain silent and even lie in response.
Shang Yechu felt the thickness of the red envelope, smiled, and said, "Sister Yang is so generous. Thank you, Sister Yang."
Xiao Xue was worried that Shang Yechu was a newcomer and wouldn't understand Yang Huanyi's meaning, so she reminded her again: "You played well, which makes Sister Yang proud. You deserve it."
Xiao Xue lowered his voice and said, "It's more than the monthly salary of a professional stunt double!"
Shang Yechu twitched the corners of her mouth, intending to say a few more perfunctory words, but upon hearing these words, she suddenly lost interest.
"Don't worry, Sister Yang. I've been in this business for a long time, I won't say anything nonsense." Shang Yechu lowered her eyes, her smile as pale and fake as plain water. "Thank you."
Xiao Xue was taken aback. But since she had already completed the task Yang Huanyi had given her, she didn't think about it any further and jogged away.
-----
The shadows of the trees swayed, and the yellow leaves fell.
It was already quite cold. Shang Yechu sat alone on an iron chair in the willow-shaded path, counting money.
Logically speaking, if he simply went to any bank, put the money in the deposit box, and counted it in less than three minutes, he would be done. But for some reason, Shang Yechu just sat on the cold iron chair and counted the bills one by one.
The brand-new banknotes swirled between his fingers, and Shang Yechu roughly counted them.
The stunt double's salary was three thousand yuan, while Yang Huanyi's hush money was ten thousand yuan.
Shang Yechu stuffed his own paycheck and Yang Huanyi's hush money into a red envelope, then placed the envelope on the bench.
A bright red seal protruded from the white-painted iron chair, giving it a cold and striking appearance. Shang Yechu turned to the side, gazing at his earnings.
A withered yellow leaf fell onto Shang Yechu's shoulder.
Suddenly, Shang Yechu raised a fist and slammed it heavily onto the red seal!
With one punch, the thick stack of papers remained unmoved, but Shang Yechu's knuckles were reddened from the pressure.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Shang Yechu threw several punches in quick succession, each one landing precisely on the stack of expensive papers, scraping the skin off his knuckles.
This action was ridiculous—hysterically ridiculous. 103 watched for a long time before he could barely understand Shang Yechu's behavior.
She was venting.
As for what he's venting? Is it frustration from setbacks, anger, or simply a violent urge? 103 doesn't know.
This person is so insignificant, ridiculous, and despicable that he can only vent his ugly desires and irrational emotions in this pathetic way in a deserted corner.
After throwing a few punches, Shang Yechu let out a long breath and carefully put the red envelope back into his pocket.
"I'm leaving." Shang Yechu stood up, seemingly speaking to no one in particular.
Low-class, out of control, even ridiculous. 103 thought silently.
For some reason, 103 was reminded of the way Shang Yechu jumped.
—It's laughable, lamentable, infuriating, but also a little... pitiful.
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