Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

He left Jiang Yang's room and returned to his own room with the two contracts in his hand.

Liu Haochun closed the door, his strength suddenly dissipated, and he slowly slid down to the ground, his knees curled up to his chest.

My heart was pounding faster.

He nervously rubbed and flipped through the two contracts Jiang Yang had given him, still unable to believe they were real.

Like a dream.

I was just an ordinary art student, yet I actually got such a generous contract from Jiangyang Company.

There was even a role contract for "Fighter of the Destiny".

Liu Haochun's toes curled up and then stretched out inside his slippers.

Unconsciously releasing excitement.

He suddenly pressed the contract against his face, rubbed it against his cheek, and took a deep breath of the paper and ink before he could believe it was real.

My phone chimed with a QQ message notification.

In the [Battle of the Girls 4] group chat, Jiang Yang sent a message: ["@All members, Chaoyue, Xiwei, wake up, our flight is at noon."]
Yang Chaoyue replied with a voice message, his tone languid: ["My flight is at 12 o'clock, it's only 7 o'clock now, what's the rush? You're just like my dad."]
Jiang Yang replied: [“I’m afraid you’ll oversleep.”]
Yang Chaoyue did not reply.

Tian Xi popped up slightly, sending a voice message, sounding very sleepy: ["Chao Yue, kick Jiang Yang out, he's so noisy!"]
Jiang Yang sat on the fabric sofa in his room and saw Yang Chaoyue and Tian Xiwei's replies in the group chat.

The crossed legs can't be swung around.

Liu Haochun just behaved so well, showing himself the utmost respect.

Unfortunately, the two girls in his own company are increasingly disrespecting him as their boss.

That's really beneath me.

He typed a message: [“What kind of attitude is this between you two? I played your father, and now you don’t listen to what your father says?”]
Tian Xiwei replied with a voice message, her tone heavily influenced by Chongqing dialect: ["I was so upset when I got home that I took it out on my father and yelled at him."]
Yang Chaoyue replied with a text message: [“I’ve never listened to my father since I was little.”]
Two traitors.

The upper beam is not right and the lower beam is crooked.

Yang Chaoyue set a bad example, and Tian Xiwei became increasingly audacious.

The spanking Yang Chaoyue was too light.

Next time, don't use slippers; use a pot lid.

Jiang Yang exited the group chat and opened Liu Haochun's chat window.

In critical moments, we still have to rely on Liu Haochun, an unofficial employee of the company.

I'm such a useless boss.

Liu Haochun noticed that Jiang Yang hadn't assigned him any tasks in the group chat, so he continued reviewing the contracts.

I remember most of the above content, but I still want to look at it more.

As I watched, my eyes gradually reddened.

No tears were shed.

The critical state of being overjoyed and bursting into tears.

The phone screen lit up with another message from Jiang Yang: "Haochun, can you do me a favor?"
Liu Haochun straightened his back reflexively: [“Yes! I’m free right now!”]
Jiang Yang replied: [“Could you wake Chao Yue and Xi Wei up? I'm afraid they'll oversleep. I'm going to the Central Academy of Drama and then I need to go to the airport.”]
"Okay." Liu Haochun replied instantly.

Jiang Yang trusted Liu Haochun's abilities.

After packing his luggage and checking out at the front desk, Jiang Yang temporarily stored his luggage in the hotel lobby.

We boarded the car arranged by the hotel and headed to the Central Academy of Drama.

Drive north from Jiuxianqiao Road towards the Fifth Ring Road.

As the car passed the intersection of Xianqiao Road and Wanhong Road, Jiang Yang turned his head to look out the window.

The street-side building is an office building converted from an old industrial factory, located on the north side of the 798 Art District.

The rooftop terrace has a steel frame structure and a graffiti wall.

There are no railings along the edge of the rooftop.

There was a figure sitting on the steel frame, but Jiang Yang didn't look at it much.

Suddenly realizing something, I quickly snapped a photo with my phone.

Zoom in on that figure.

He was a young man wearing a studded leather jacket, carrying a half-empty bottle of mineral water, his bangs blown askew by the wind, staring down at the street below.

After seeing the man's face clearly, Jiang Yang told the driver to stop the car.

Looking up at the young man on the rooftop, he muttered, "I'll have a chance to get some arrangement skills from Xiao Hua someday."

Jiang Yang strode towards the office building converted from an old industrial plant, his acting skills fully on display.

The young man on the rooftop was no longer sitting on the steel frame, but had come to the edge of the rooftop.

He only realized that his wrist was trembling uncontrollably again when he dropped the half-full bottle of mineral water he was holding.

Somatization symptoms of depression.

When bending down to pick up the water bottle, his five fingers spread open and then clenched in a spasm-like motion, as if he were grasping at the air.

Press down hard on your wrist with your other hand.

Suddenly, I felt a spasm in my stomach, my Adam's apple bobbed violently, the veins in my neck bulged, and I couldn't stop vomiting.

After vomiting, he unconsciously wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and the cloth was stained with yellow gastric juice.

I didn't eat anything this morning, I only drank a glass of water, and what I vomited was all stomach acid.

He pulled out a blister pack of duloxetine from his pocket; he had already taken half of it.

Prescription medication prescribed by a doctor.

It can relieve the somatic symptoms of chronic musculoskeletal pain.

Swallow it with water.

Medication can relieve pain, but it can't cure the suicidal thoughts.

Looking back on my past experiences.

He debuted in 2007 through the talent show "Go! Good Boys" and later tried his hand at acting, starring in "Legend of Lu Zhen".

I fulfilled my childhood dream.

It also made my parents proud.

How could I have gradually made myself into this state?

I got up this morning and went for a walk outside. I don't know why, but I just wanted to come to the rooftop to take a look.

I don't want to die at all.

I just don't want to live anymore.

Depression is not sadness, but rather the loss of even the strength to be sad.

In my current state, I can't sing on stage or act. What I fear most is that my parents will find out about my situation.

I love this world, but it feels like there's an invisible hand dragging me down into an unseen abyss.

Smiling and telling everyone 'I'm fine,' the reflection in the mirror is already rusty and worn.

Suddenly, I felt my feet dangling, and realized I had taken a step forward. I quickly pulled my foot back.

Take a few steps back.

Take out your phone to distract yourself.

I turned on the screen and found twenty-two missed calls.

All the calls were from my mother.

I checked the records and realized that I had accidentally dialed my mother's number around 3 a.m. last night before going to bed, and then I fell asleep.

I'm a light sleeper, so I'm on Do Not Disturb mode. There are also a bunch of WeChat messages from my mom.

Click on them and check them one by one.

3 points.

"Liangliang, what's wrong? Mom was sleeping and didn't answer your call."
4 points.

[“Could you please reply, Mommy’s baby?”]
At 5 o'clock sharp, there were two identical messages in a row.

"Liang, what's wrong?"
"Liang, what's wrong?"
5 points.

"I don't have your friend's contact information. How can I know you're safe?"
"Liangliang, are you alright? You seemed a bit off when we video chatted last time."
"Mommy's baby."
5 points.

"Liang, can you let me know you're safe?"
Then came an unanswered voice call.

5 points.

[“Honey, can you reply?”]
6 points.

"Liang, say something!"
6 points.

"You're not thinking of doing something drastic, are you?"
Saw this message.

I stared at the words "can't figure it out" for several seconds, my pupils stinging from the screen's brightness.

He repeatedly swiped his thumb across the message list, as if touching the anxiety of his mother who couldn't receive his messages.

7 points.

"Honey, what's wrong?"
"I want to see your message back to Mom."
["son."]
As he read through the messages, his eyes reddened, and he wanted to send a video to his mother.

Take a look around.

A faded banner hangs on the rusted steel pipe, bearing the words "200 Days of Safe Production".

I realized that this place wasn't suitable for video calling my mother, as it would only make her more worried.

The tremor in my wrist hasn't subsided yet.

I can't let Mom see.

Every unread message from my mother is like a vine I cling to as I fall into an abyss.

He typed a message: ["I probably accidentally bumped my phone while I was sleeping last night. I'm fine, Mom."]
This was followed by a hugging emoji.

My fingers trembled as they hovered over the screen.

I received a reply from my mother: "It's good that you're alright. I was so worried."
Immediately following was a voice message from my mother, spoken in a strong Shanghai accent: ["Are you doing well in Beijing? Can you send me a voice message?"]
He deliberately cleared his throat before sending the voice message, squeezing out a false, bright tone: ["I'm doing quite well, I'm happy every day."]
My mom sent me a text message: ["I'm so glad you're doing well. I was so scared this morning! I couldn't reach you and called you so many times. Did I wake you up? I hope you're not mad at me."]
[“Why would I be angry? Don’t worry about me, I’m perfectly fine.”]
After the voice message is sent.

His lips twitched and drooped.

Each episode of symptoms was the straw that broke the camel's back, and every message from his mother was the rope that pulled him back.

I chatted with my mom for a while.

Turn off your phone screen.

She looked down at her wrist, which was still trembling slightly.

He suddenly raised his hand and bit his wrist.

The teeth first tentatively touch the skin, then suddenly bite down hard.

He bit his teeth, leaving marks, trying to use pain to fight his somatization symptoms.

They also use pain to prove they are still alive.

Because I can imagine that if one day I lose control and leave this world, my mother will be extremely sad.

The skin is oozing blood.

I don't know if it was due to the medication or the pain, but the trembling in my wrist has slowed down.

He chuckled softly at his wound, but the laughter turned into gasping for breath as if he were suffocating.

After the symptoms were relieved.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps.

He turned his head to look towards the entrance to the rooftop and saw Jiang Yang step in.

He was wearing a gray-blue denim jacket with white frayed edges at the collar.

She wore a pilling navy blue turtleneck sweater underneath, with the collar loose and deformed.

The pants are black polyester casual pants.

The knees were washed until they shone, and the cuffs were frayed.

He was wearing knock-off Converse sneakers, which were so dirty they looked like they hadn't been washed in a long time.

Her forehead had greasy, matted bangs.

There are bluish-black puffy bags around the eyes, and the lower eyelids are red.

An oily forehead and nose, along with dry, flaky cheeks, are symptoms of chronic insomnia, irregular sleep patterns, and endocrine disorders.

Jiang Yang had someone in the office building buy the clothes on short notice, and his makeup was also done temporarily.

The moment their eyes met, he was slightly taken aback.

Because those were eyes filled with no hope for life, eyes that I often saw.

Just like myself in the mirror.

Jiang Yang's wrists were also trembling, his back was hunched, his shoulders were crooked, and his lips were dry—all symptoms of somatization of depression.

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before passing by.

Looking behind him, the rooftop was completely empty.

He slowly loosened his grip on his wrist.

The jawline remains taut.

His hunched back straightened unconsciously by a few centimeters, and he stared intently at Jiang Yang with a smile on his face, trying to greet him: "Have you eaten?"

Hear the words.

Jiang Yang looked over and smiled, "I've already eaten. What about you?"

"not yet."

There was a brief silence.

Seeing that Jiang Yang hadn't stopped walking, he tried hard to organize his thoughts.

Not being good with words, he didn't know what to say when talking to strangers.

Others might not be able to see what Jiang Yang was thinking, but he could tell that Jiang Yang wanted to die.

It's not necessarily that they wanted to die.

Instead, under the control of somatization of depression, the urge to not live grows stronger and stronger.

"You're quite handsome. You look familiar; we might have met before. Can you tell me your name?"

He managed to squeeze out a sentence.

Slow down and head towards Jiangyang.

"Bro, that's such a cliché pickup line. I'm not gay."

"No, no, you've misunderstood..."

"My name is Jiang Yang."

Jiang Yang smiled and replied, slowing his pace slightly without pausing: "What's your name?"

"My name is Qiao Renliang." (End of Chapter)