We Are Filthy, Born From Mud - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Yes, They Are One Person. Achievement Unlocked: Vinegar for the Dumplings…

The sophisticated golden lighting gilded everything with a golden edge; even the cheapest items instantly saw their value multiply several times over under this glow.

Cups clinked and exquisite dishes were laid out on the round table.

The surroundings were boisterous, but Zong Liangu just sat there quietly, eating in silence.

“This shoot really went incredibly smoothly. You young people are truly full of vitality. I still remember when you were on set, soaking up knowledge like sponges. The future is bright, truly bright.“

Director He Gui spoke in a rambling manner; though she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, she was as hyper as if she were drunk.

Zong Liangu gave a submissive, gentle nod, picking up her drink to take a light sip.

She lowered her head slightly, her fringe sweeping across her faintly furrowed brows.

Thoughts tangled messily within her, knotting in her heart, bringing a restless burning sensation to her chest.

She was immersed in her own reflections; everything around her became irrelevant as scene after scene from today flashed chaotically before her eyes.

She couldn’t figure out Zong Yougu’s thoughts.

Nor did she know what she herself was supposed to do.

After racking her brains, she had successfully traveled from Zong Yougu’s residence to the fan meeting.

She had snuck into the venue and seen the glamorous Zong Yougu standing on stage.

Standing there, the bright lights made Yougu’s skin look like a milky-white marble statue—smooth and beautiful.

And behind Zong Yougu was the performance of the two of them.

However, the one standing there should have been her, Zong Liangu.

Zong Liangu should have been furious.

Zong Yougu had drugged her and confined her at home; that reason alone was enough for her to kill Yougu.

But instead of anger, a strange emotion circulated from her heart, flowing through her entire body with her blood, smoothing over her rage.

What exactly was this emotion?

Before she could think deeply on it, Zhang Yinyang had suddenly appeared.

Then, Zong Yougu had laid everything bare before her, dissecting all the sordidness of their past.

Zong Liangu had watched coldly, seemingly indifferent to everything Yougu said.

But only she knew how excited she was at that moment; her cold fingers had felt as if they were turning scalding hot.

Zong Liangu laughed endlessly in her mind.

Zong Yougu was nowhere near as happy as Liangu had imagined; she was nowhere near that carefree.

They shared a stretch of filthy mire.

On one side was the drama The Rumor where they took turns acting, and on the other was that past of theirs—these images flashed constantly before her, giving her a rare sense of gratification in her chest.

Looking at the Zong Yougu standing before her with head bowed, Zong Liangu finally knew what that emotion circulating at the fan meeting was.

It was the resonance of sharing the same body and mind, a unity of honor and disgrace.

In this world, Zong Yougu was fine, and Zong Liangu was fine.

The two of them together were even better.

She wasn’t alone, and neither was Yougu.

An idea immediately appeared in her brain.

But before she could speak it, she was hurried out of the room by Zong Yougu.

“Xiao Zong, what are you thinking? If you keep dazing out, all the food will end up in my stomach.”

He Gui said with a chuckle.

Zong Liangu finally snapped back from her thoughts.

Outside of work, He Gui was always so kind and humorous. She picked up the serving chopsticks and placed a large portion of fish and a big piece of beef rib into Zong Liangu’s bowl.

“Director, I can’t eat that much.”

Zong Liangu furrowed her brows exaggeratedly, appearing quite troubled. The smile on He Gui’s face grew wider, deep lines appearing at the corners of her eyes.

“If you don’t eat it, I will! Director, Director, my bowl is empty, put some in here.”

Su Tongguo followed Zong Liangu’s joke, standing up and pointing dramatically at her own mouth.

He Gui laughed and put some food into Su Tongguo’s bowl as well.

“Director, you have no idea—for the sake of the shoot, we ate boiled shrimp for months. Facing this table of food now, I’m no different from a pig; I want to taste everything.”

Su Tongguo ate indignantly, her chopsticks stirring vigorously; once the meticulously plated food reached her bowl, it truly looked no different from pig swill.

The room erupted in laughter.

The laughter came from all sides, and Zong Liangu followed the sound with her gaze.

Those laughing were the director, the producer, and the actors.

Both older and younger people were laughing.

Zong Liangu gently set down her spoon, her mouth curling into a smile as she began to laugh too.

As an assassin, she was also very good at socializing.

Her adoptive mother had raised her, teaching her everything she needed to know as a killer.

Zong Liangu was outstanding; her adoptive mother praised her as the most talented child.

Besides killing, dismembering, and destroying evidence, she had learned much more.

She learned to hide her tracks, she learned to disguise herself, and by extension, she knew how to socialize.

Yes, she was a very good assassin.

And now, she would be a very good actress.

They would create a miracle, changing their lives and everything they possessed.

Zong Liangu’s mouth opened wide, her healthy teeth looking even more lustrous under the lights.

Yes, she was truly happy right now, without a hint of pretense.

“Don’t you feel—”

Zong Liangu heard a whisper from the side and turned to look at Su Tongguo.

Sitting next to Su Tongguo was Yu Zhao, who exposed her with a deadpan expression: “Su Tongguo says she’s afraid of you. She said, ‘Don’t you think Zong Yougu really has an assassin’s aura? It’s so scary.'”

“Right, right, I noticed it too. I even praised our casting director for having a great eye.”

He Gui laughed and stood up again to put food into various actors’ bowls.

Her actions reminded Zong Liangu of the director-mother at the orphanage; she had been just like this, always worried they wouldn’t have enough to eat.

After more laughing and joking, the food on the table was mostly cleared, and a plump steamed fish was reduced to a skeleton.

The victory banquet ended.

“Be careful on your way back, okay?”

After paying the bill and returning, He Gui couldn’t help but offer a few words of advice. Whether it was due to the alcohol or something else, she was a bit over-excited.

Zong Liangu stepped out, preparing to return to the hotel; in truth, she was also very excited.

To say she wasn’t sober—she still remembered she had to return Su Tongguo’s ID card.

But to say she was sober—her pace was much faster than usual, her steps even slightly stumbling.

Clearly, her alcohol tolerance was good. She tapped her own head.

Regardless, this state of over-excitement made her thinking much sharper than usual.

One idea after another flashed through her mind.

She pulled the room card from her pocket and successfully swiped open the door.

Arriving along with the sensor lights was Zong Yougu’s hug.

The moment the door opened, Zong Yougu lunged into Zong Liangu’s arms.

Zong Liangu didn’t speak; the surrounding air was filled with their scent.

Hidden beneath the strong scents of body wash, soap, and shampoo was their identical, primal scent.

It was faint, but Zong Liangu captured it with precision.

She reached out and stroked Zong Yougu’s hair, the jet-black strands flowing through her fingers.

“Alright, what do you want to say?”

Zong Liangu smiled and said: “You were right, we are one person.”

Zong Yougu looked up in surprise.

“You were right, we are one person. Why did I keep refusing to admit it? Why did I keep trying to reject it? The fact is just that.” Zong Liangu’s tone was rapid.

“So?”

Zong Liangu smiled, her mouth curling wide, the upward arc much larger than usual.

“So, I don’t think I should kill you. We should cooperate.”

“Cooperate…?”

Zong Liangu’s eyes narrowed slightly, her eyeballs rolling beneath her lids as her gaze scanned Zong Yougu up and down.

Then she turned her head, staring at herself in the mirror.

“The things we are good at are different; we can cooperate.”

“Didn’t you say we are one person? How are we different again?”

Zong Yougu smiled, though her tone held no real question.

“Even small changes can lead us to completely different lives. For example, right now you are called Zong Yougu and I am still Zong Liangu; you are an actress and I am an assassin.

But no matter how we are shaped by nurture, we are always one person; those innate instincts are always the same. You are cowardly, vain, and wear your heart on your sleeve.

I am the same. I am just as cowardly and vain as you.

You should be happy; I have finally accepted this fact.”

Zong Liangu saw the other person burst into a happy smile, her eyes curving and her fingers twisting the ends of her hair.

“Okay, okay! Now someone can help me go to work.” Zong Yougu laughed heartlessly.

Zong Liangu narrowed her eyes; she wasn’t sure if her choice was actually correct.

She didn’t even understand what it was she wanted.

She only knew she couldn’t kill Zong Yougu.

She was also that narcissistic; she always subconsciously delayed the act.

She couldn’t kill Zong Yougu just as she found it difficult to bring herself to kill herself.

So now, accepting this fact and cooperating was the best choice for the moment.

As for the future?

“Are you sure you won’t regret it?”

Zong Yougu pressed herself against Zong Liangu again, her hands encircling Liangu’s neck. Her cheek pressed intimately against Liangu’s face. She carefully felt Zong Liangu’s slightly elevated body temperature from the drinking; she felt the other’s heartbeat.

“Regret? Why would I regret?”

Zong Liangu pressed her forehead firmly against the other’s; a slight sensation of pain came from her forehead, and the other must have felt the same.

Zong Yougu laughed, the air from her nose tickling Zong Liangu’s neck.

“Think about it—even if we are one person, I am Zong Yougu. Once we become famous and successful in the future, all that fame will belong to the name Zong Yougu. I don’t believe you have much sense of identity with this name. Are you willing to hide behind ‘Zong Yougu’ for the rest of your life?”

Zong Yougu was always sharp; likewise, Zong Liangu had long since realized this issue.

She was used to living in the gutter, but she hadn’t come to this world to continue being a rat.

Upon first arriving in this world, what she wanted was to shine; she wanted to climb up step by step so that everyone would look up to her.

Now, having accepted that Zong Yougu was her, what she wanted was for both of them to shine.

But that didn’t mean she accepted becoming Zong Yougu’s shadow.

She smiled and narrowed her eyes, darkness filling her vision.

“Whether it’s Yougu or Liangu, a name is just a label. We are one person after all, aren’t we?”

“That makes sense. Then, here’s to a happy cooperation.”

“Fine.”

Zong Liangu let out a breath and tilted her head back slightly, her head hitting the door with a soft thud.

The pain in her head let her know clearly: she was lying.

She would never be content.

We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Who cares about the future?

It wasn’t as if she were a person who placed much weight on promises.