We Are Filthy, Born From Mud - Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Yes, Her Future Is Limitless.

Zong Liangu turned around completely, her eyes slightly narrowed.

Su Tongguo was still looking at her with confusion.

Zong Liangu lowered her voice and said, “Miss Su, you’ve mistaken me. I’m Miss Yougu’s life assistant.”

“Oh? What are you doing here then? Shouldn’t you have gone with Zong Yougu already?” Su Tongguo rested her head on her hand.

“Sister Yougu didn’t ask me to go this time. But you know, she’s always forgetful. She even forgets her ID for flights. I have to bring it to her,” Zong Liangu’s tone was slow, suggesting she was much put-upon by Zong Yougu’s capriciousness.

Su Tongguo let out a chuckle: “True, she is exactly like that. I don’t have anything to do today. Do you need me to give you a ride?”

Su Tongguo sat down in her cubicle. Her seat was adjacent to Zong Yougu’s.

However, Su Tongguo’s workspace was filled with items. She even had a small shelf beside her, neatly arranged with several tiny green plants.

Everything was organized perfectly.

It was immediately clear that she enjoyed life, enjoyed her work, and fully enjoyed everything in her life.

This was the normal life of Su Tongguo that Zong Liangu had imagined countless times.

“I asked if you need a ride?”

Su Tongguo asked again, the smile in her tone unchanged, showing no impatience.

“Miss Su, that would be too much trouble. I can manage by myself.”

Zong Liangu said this while rushing to walk away.

The slightly upturned edge of the carpet made Zong Liangu stumble, sending her falling right beside Su Tongguo’s seat.

Instantly, various items, big and small, rolled off Su Tongguo’s desk. The shelf next to it wobbled twice before falling to the floor.

The thermos that had been on the desk clattered against the floor a few times before rolling into the distance.

“Miss Su, I’m so sorry, I lost my footing! I’m truly sorry! Let me help you clean up.” Zong Liangu squatted down frantically, fumbling to place the scattered debris back onto the desk.

“No, no, it’s fine. Aren’t you in a hurry? I can pick it up myself. It’s not a big deal.”

Su Tongguo helped Zong Liangu up.

“Your tone is exactly like Hu Yinghua’s. Does working under Zong Yougu make everyone turn out this way?”

Su Tongguo laughed to herself.

Zong Liangu looked at her, her eyes holding a trace of cautiousness.

Su Tongguo laughed: “It really is no big deal. Go on, hurry up and go.”

Zong Liangu remained rooted to the spot, staring at her, her narrowed eyes suggesting some confusion.

Su Tongguo waved her hand again: “If you don’t leave now, Zong Yougu will scold you.”

Only then did Zong Liangu start to walk.

She lowered her hat, making her expression unreadable, making it impossible to tell what she was thinking.

Ding—

The elevator arrived.

She watched the elevator doors close, growing smaller until they were completely shut.

It was only at this moment that a wide smile appeared on her face.

The hand in her pocket felt the ID card there—it certainly wasn’t Zong Yougu’s.

It was Su Tongguo’s ID card.

Her thumb twirled the thin card. Her eyes slightly widened.

The expression on her face was complex, showing a hint of guilt.

But the guilt was only fleeting.

She was inherently a ruthless person.

She was currently a person without an identity. She needed a document to buy a train ticket.

Su Tongguo was different. She had other things to prove her identity: a driver’s license, a passport, or whatever else. At worst, there was a place near the airport to get a temporary replacement ID.

Besides, if Su Tongguo encountered trouble, what did that have to do with Zong Liangu?

The high-speed rail station was some distance from the city center. After several transfers, Zong Liangu took a long time to reach the station.

She compared the photo on Su Tongguo’s ID with her face. She slightly adjusted her hairstyle, widened her eyes a bit, and put on an innocent smile.

She was adept at mimicry, and using Su Tongguo’s ID, she successfully bought a train ticket.

Fortunately, Zong Yougu and Su Tongguo were not yet famous enough to be household names.

Zong Liangu secretly rejoiced, and that trace of guilt had long since evaporated.

She couldn’t help but hum a song as she strode confidently into the station.

According to her ticket, she easily found her seat.

Her seat was by the window, offering a view of low-lying lawns.

It was mid-spring, and the grass was growing lush and green.

She stared out the window, lost in thought, and that hint of guilt welled up in her heart again.

“Achoo—”

A sneeze came from behind her.

Zong Liangu didn’t hesitate and immediately offered a packet of tissues.

“Thank you so much,” the girl repeatedly thanked her.

“It’s nothing, you’re welcome,” Zong Liangu said with a smile. “If you need more, you can ask me. I have a few more packets of tissues with me.”

“Thank you, really.”

The thanks echoed in Zong Liangu’s ears again. Only then did she turn back, satisfied, and lean back against the seat.

Sure enough, doing a good deed makes one feel much better.

Why should she feel guilty?

She, Zong Liangu, was the kindest person. There was no one kinder than her in the world.

“There’s no one kinder than me in the world.”

This sentence came from the laptop. Zong Yougu was intently focused on the screen.

Here’s what happened: when she arrived at the hotel, she happened to run into the director returning from outside.

Perhaps worried that Zong Yougu would run off, the director immediately called out to her.

“Little Zong, what a coincidence,” the director’s loud voice echoed in the hotel lobby.

Zong Yougu froze in place. The director jogged over and asked Zong Yougu with great interest, “Little Zong, do you want to see what the final cut of your performance looks like?”

Without waiting for Zong Yougu’s answer, the director waved her over and sat down on a lobby sofa.

The laptop was open on the table. The director lightly pressed the spacebar.

Loud sounds boomed from the laptop, reverberating throughout the lobby.

Checking-in travelers and hotel staff all turned their attention to them.

Zong Yougu’s face immediately flushed. She quickly lowered her head and poked the director through a tissue: “Director, can’t we go back to the room to watch?”

The director righteously dismissed her: “What kind of talk is that? What would it look like if the two of us went into a room?”

“Then you can just send me the file.”

“How can this be leaked externally!” the director’s voice was still booming.

Zong Yougu buried her head even lower.

Fortunately, the feeling of shame was immediately overridden by narcissism.

She appeared on screen.

Or rather, Zong Liangu appeared.

That line was delivered so confidently.

An assassin talking about kindness, showing no guilt when facing a police officer or a long-time friend.

A villain, a detestable villain.

Zong Yougu smiled. This was exactly what she wanted but struggled to express in her acting.

“You really are a genius,” the director suddenly turned and stared straight at Zong Yougu. “Look at the shock on your face here. I didn’t even think it could be like that. You always surprise me, though you also give me a headache sometimes.”

The director laughed heartily, her gaze still encompassing Zong Yougu.

Zong Yougu felt burned by the intense gaze. She turned her head in slight panic and said, “Is that so? One scene can’t really tell much, can it?”

“No, no, no.” The director got excited and immediately fast-forwarded.

The image on the screen changed rapidly.

The computer no longer made loud noises. It was a silent long take.

Zong Yougu clearly remembered the content of this scene.

It was the scene after her character had committed murder for the first time and thrown the body into the sea.

She walked along the embankment. The wind blew through her hair.

Her expression moved from initial fear to slowly calming down.

As another gust of wind blew, her face was completely exhilarated.

After walking two more steps, her face showed confusion and boredom, foreshadowing the next crime.

Zong Yougu watched every frame intently. She didn’t want to miss a single expression of herself.

She always enjoyed watching herself so much.

“Little Zong, do you remember? This was the first scene we filmed. Tongguo hadn’t officially joined the crew yet due to scheduling, and combined with the weather, we couldn’t start work on the other scenes. So we had to move yours up.”

A hotel staff member brought them two cups of tea. The director picked up the cup to clear her throat.

“To be honest, I felt I was asking a lot of you. You had to film a solo scene on your first day on set, with all the cameras aimed at you and all the lights on you, and no dialogue. I was really worried. But you did great. You surprised everyone. I still remember when we praised you, you had no expression on your face, as if you knew you could do it all along.”

Zong Yougu lowered her head and picked up the teacup on the table.

She wasn’t thirsty, but she took a small sip of tea. Then, her fingers constantly rotated the teacup, making a crisp sound as it bumped against the glass tabletop.

She looked at the director, closely studying the middle-aged woman in front of her.

The director’s surname was He, named He Gui, a director who had won numerous awards, both big and small.

Despite her many accomplishments, she remained active in the film and television industry and was still willing to experiment.

Receiving such high praise from her moved even the habitually narcissistic Zong Yougu.

“Little Zong, but you still need to fix your flaws. If you just fix them, you’ll definitely achieve even greater success,” the director said, smiling as she patted Zong Yougu’s shoulder.

Zong Yougu smiled. The touch on her shoulder gave her an unusual feeling.

She grew up in an orphanage and was rarely hugged.

Thus, she started to reject others’ touch. Coupled with a series of events, she drove everyone out of her world.

At this moment, she suddenly wanted to be hugged.

She missed Zong Liangu. She wanted Zong Liangu to open her arms and hold her.

She also wanted to tightly hug Zong Liangu.

“Alright, get some good rest today. Don’t mess anything up tomorrow.” He Gui stood up.

Zong Yougu also stood up, taking a step, ready to return to her room.

The director called out to her again.

“What I say is usually spot on. Believe it or not, Zong Yougu, your future is limitless.”

The director turned and left.

Only Zong Yougu remained standing there.

She silently repeated to herself:

Zong Yougu, limitless future.