We Are Filthy, Born From Mud - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Yes, She is Abominable. Finally, Some Work.

The two said they were going to cooperate, but in truth, opportunities for them to work together were few and far between.

This was because Zong Yougu simply had no roles to film.

Occasionally, the company would arrange some training for her, but more often than not, she just sat at her workstation. One could say that “slacking off” was her primary job.

Under normal circumstances, Zong Yougu and Zong Liangu took turns going to the office, and in the evening, they would tell each other everything that had happened. One day for one, one day for the other—it was perfectly fair. No one had ever discovered their anomaly.

“You go to work today.” Zong Yougu kicked Zong Liangu’s side with the top of her foot.

“Why? According to the schedule, it should be you.”

“I don’t feel like working. I want to be lazy for a day.”

Zong Liangu agreed decisively. She flipped over, got out of bed, and changed her clothes. She maintained a constant curiosity about everything in this world, greedily absorbing the details of Zong Yougu’s interpersonal relationships.

Beep—

The phone rang.

The phone was on the nightstand, and Zong Yougu checked the message as a matter of course. She furrowed her brows, her eyes darting up and down as if she were repeatedly chewing over the information.

Then, she pulled back the covers and wrapped her arms around Zong Liangu’s neck.

She said, “Our chance for cooperation has arrived.”

She gave Zong Liangu’s neck a light kiss and kept rubbing her cheek against Liangu’s jaw.

Zong Liangu pushed her away with some impatience: “If you have something to say, say it. Don’t fidget.”

Zong Yougu pouted and let go, sitting on the edge of the bed: “Qi Fang sent a message saying there’s an audition coming up soon. All the artists under her have secured a chance to try out.”

“Hmm,” Zong Liangu responded softly.

Zong Yougu hooked her index finger through Zong Liangu’s fingers, pulling away and touching back repeatedly.

She said, “I heard this time it’s a big production. The director has won awards, and the director of photography is an international celebrity. Even if one only plays a small role in it, they might just get famous. Once you’re famous, the money comes. Once you’re famous, the reputation is there.”

“Hmm.” Zong Liangu didn’t offer any opinion, merely waiting for Zong Yougu’s next sentence.

“So we must win this opportunity. It is indeed a significant challenge, but now that I have you, it shouldn’t be very difficult for us.” Zong Yougu sniffed the back of Zong Liangu’s hand, her warm breath covering the skin and bouncing back onto her own face.

Zong Liangu still didn’t speak.

Zong Yougu continued to rub against the other’s hand and asked, “Why aren’t you saying anything? You’re like a statue.”

“I think you are very… contradictory.” Zong Liangu gave her jacket a hard tug, pulling it straight.

“Me? Contradictory?” A look of innocence appeared on Zong Yougu’s face.

Zong Liangu observed the other through the mirror, which was also observing herself.

She said, “You said before that you were worried that the higher you stand, the harder you fall. But now, before the problem is even solved, you want to climb up. I cooperated with you because I want us both to shine. I have no desire to experience what it feels like to have my reputation ruined.”

Zong Yougu was about to open her mouth, but Zong Liangu beat her to it.

Zong Liangu pressed her finger against the other’s forehead, her gaze locked onto Zong Yougu.

She spoke: “Coward, thief, fool, murderer.”

A momentary blankness appeared on Zong Yougu’s face.

Zong Liangu ignored it and continued: “These are all labels that could be pinned on us. If the truth ever comes out, no one will want to understand the process, no one will want to know our tragic past; an actress labeled a murderer is simply too eye-catching. I don’t want to be nailed to the pillar of shame with you.”

“So?” Zong Yougu said, sounding somewhat desperate.

“I told you, I can help you solve this. No one will ever know, everything will be as if it never happened, and you will have always been Zong Yougu.” Zong Liangu gripped the other’s wrist tightly, leaving a clear handprint when she let go.

“No need. I can solve it myself. If I let you kill her, the money I spent goes down the drain. Zhang Yinyang is very greedy. Don’t frown—I mean, the Zhang Yinyang of this world is very greedy. She swallowed all the money I gave her. I will have her sent away before filming officially begins. It’s best to do this quietly, but if someone finds out, so what? I’m just a poor soul being defrauded by a greedy relative. When the time comes, our past—dirty as mire—will be our bargaining chip for sympathy.”

“But you gave her cash. Is there a trail?”

“The serial numbers are recorded; the flow can be traced.”

“At least you have some brains,” Zong Liangu snorted.

Zong Liangu took the keys, intending to head out.

“I’m so abominable,” Zong Yougu suddenly said out of nowhere.

Zong Liangu smiled: “Yes, you are very abominable.”

“Get lost and go to work.”

Zong Yougu threw a pillow at Zong Liangu as a parting shot; naturally, Zong Liangu wasn’t hit.

The fast-moving pillow crossed the cramped room and knocked the mirror on the table to the floor, where it shattered into pieces.

Zong Liangu didn’t even look back; she walked out the door with a smile.

Zong Yougu always considered herself wicked, but in reality, the morality in her heart was still pulling at her, causing her to hesitate and struggle. She couldn’t harden her heart or follow through with her hands.

Cowardly.

And Zong Liangu forced herself to observe the other’s cowardice. In her, she saw her former self. Among the people she had killed, many were heinous criminals, but many were also innocent. Dealing with evil was the police’s job; she was just an assassin. Doing what she was paid for was her greatest professional ethic.

Zong Liangu gave a small smile and walked downstairs briskly, getting into the car that had come to pick her up.

“Sister Yougu, you seem to be in a very good mood today,” Hu Yinghua said.

“Is that so? Perhaps I remembered some things from when I was little,” Zong Liangu said with a beam.

“Wow, childhood really is the happiest time. I remember when I was a kid, I just loved to run wild. I didn’t even have a destination; I just ran aimlessly. I’d open my mouth as I ran, wanting to eat the wind,” Hu Yinghua also began to laugh.

Zong Liangu listened quietly. Only after Hu Yinghua finished did she say, “I just thought about the past and felt that life now is truly too good.”

“I’m sorry…”

“What do you have to be sorry for? Your current salary doesn’t even come close to a fraction of mine.”

Zong Liangu laughed, revealing a row of snowy-white teeth.

“Oh.” Hu Yinghua accepted this fact with a deadpan expression, concentrating on driving and speaking no further.

Zong Liangu closed her eyes to rest. A gust of wind blowing through a crack in the window brushed against her face, making her truly feel a bit drowsy. However, she woke up before the car pulled into the company garage.

She took her ID badge and went upstairs, a path she knew well. She had already comfortably accepted the workstation labeled “Zong Yougu” as her own.

“Morning, Yougu,” Su Tongguo greeted her with a smile.

Zong Liangu nodded.

“Are you busy at noon today? If not, let’s grab lunch? I… I have something to tell you.”

Su Tongguo was still smiling, but it was a bit guilty and a bit forced. Zong Liangu stared at her with some confusion.

“I’ll treat you, but you have to promise me that no matter what I say, you won’t turn against me. Well, you can turn against me, but we’ll still be friends, okay?”

Zong Liangu furrowed her brows and sized her up from top to bottom. After a long while, she gave a slight nod.

“Xiao Su, Xiao Zong, Sister Qi Fang wants you to go over. It should be about the audition arrangements.”

“Okay, we’re going right now.”

Zong Liangu and Su Tongguo walked together, but Su Tongguo stayed behind her the whole time, even taking the initiative to pull open the door for her.

“You’re here? Sit down.”

Qi Fang sat composedly in her office, a pot of tea set by her side. Zong Liangu and Su Tongguo sat before the desk.

“You should have received my message. There will be an audition next month. The entire creative team has won multiple major awards. The director is getting on in years; this will likely be her swan song. I don’t need to elaborate further on how much weight this carries, do I?”

Su Tongguo and Zong Liangu both nodded.

“I have some history with one of the producers. She told me the director intends to use some fresh blood this time. The director’s reasoning is that, as a veteran of the film industry, she wants to uplift some new faces and showcase the endless charm of the acting world.”

Qi Fang picked up her tea and took a light sip. Her eyes swept over the two youthful faces before her, and she smiled.

“This audition will be in the form of an open casting call. The difficulty will not be small. I hope you both perform well and continue the ‘Qi Fang Law’.”

Zong Liangu and Su Tongguo both smiled. They took the materials Qi Fang pushed toward them and began to read carefully.

The information provided was sparse—only a summary of the story and character profiles. As for specific plot points or detailed character relationships, there were no descriptions at all. However, based on this information, it was a relatively heartwarming campus story.

The protagonist, Yu Yulai, messes around with a group of friends on campus, eventually deciding to fight for their dreams. It was inspirational and full of positive energy, which was quite inconsistent with the director’s usual style.

Zong Liangu furrowed her brows. Was she and Zong Yougu really suitable? Their education had been completed in the orphanage; after being adopted, they hadn’t had much contact with normal education. What was a campus like? What was a normal life like? How could they satisfy such an experienced director and a group of producers? Could they really do it?

Zong Liangu’s gaze fell upon the supporting character, Lin Lingwan.

Lin Lingwan was Yu Yulai’s classmate—reclusive and introverted, with no one willing to communicate with her except for Yu Yulai. In the hobby section, the materials noted that Lin Lingwan liked to watch ants move house and then crush them with her foot. The materials gave no specific family background for Lin Lingwan, only a single sentence: She wanders like a wild ghost. It was unknown what kind of family could raise such a chilling child.

“My thought is, Xiao Su, you should go for the role of Lin Lingwan. I know this is very different from your usual style, but only this way can everyone see your potential and expand your range—”

“Sister Qi Fang, I want to audition for this role as well,” Zong Liangu said firmly.

Qi Fang was stunned for a moment, then began to laugh: “Fine, fine. But what we say now doesn’t count; the director has the final word. Prepare well. I wish you success.”

Zong Liangu gave a slight bow and then walked out of the office. Her highly active mind made her quicken her pace. Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her.

“Zong Yougu! Why are you competing with me for everything now? You weren’t like this before,” Su Tongguo said, sounding a bit huffy.

Zong Liangu was amused: “I’m not the only one competing with you. Why don’t you throw a tantrum at everyone else?”

“True. Fine, fine, let’s go eat,” Su Tongguo calmed down.

“No need for lunch. I’m leaving early today. If you have something to say, say it.”

Su Tongguo suddenly became constrained, looking around like a thief.

“If you’re not going to say it, forget it. I’m leaving.”

Su Tongguo remained hesitant: “It’s just… I’m in a relationship.”

“Oh, congratulations,” Zong Liangu said perfunctorily.

“If I tell you who I’m dating, you promise not to be angry, okay?”

“Fine.”

Su Tongguo lowered her head, appearing somewhat guilty: “I accepted Liao Qinghe’s confession.”

“Liao Qinghe?”

“Hmm.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Zong Liangu left her with that sentence and strode away.