Death Progress Bar

Lu Shan and Zhang Zhuoyuan wrangled for several days before both sides became willing to compromise and finally reached the terms both sides could agree to.
The dispute settled, Tarantula began to aid the government in putting in order the messed-up economy of G Province.
It didn’t appear that the reconciliation cooled Lu Shan’s anger, however—though she was helping the authorities honestly, she directly closed down a large number of Tarantula’s peripheral enterprises that had been shut down by the officials before.
She also packed all the goods previously detained at the port, preparing to move them to Formosa.
It pretty much seemed as if she decided that the pot was already cracked, so it didn’t matter if it was smashed to pieces.

Sponsored Content

This alarmed Zhang Zhuoyuan.
Afraid that Tarantula only pretended to be reconciled and was in fact planning to retaliate against the government, he contacted Lian Jun, seeking his advice.
Lian Jun appeased him, “inferring” that “Tarantula was just compacting its strength and cutting off the damaged branches, trying to retain as much of its power as possible so that it could smoothly ally with Meridian Gate and Epoch.” Then, he suggested that Zhang Zhuoyuan should actually pay more attention to Snake Fang.

{Snake Fang?} Zhang Zhuoyuan was puzzled.
{Why? Hasn’t it withdrawn from G Province?}

“It has, but then it went to Formosa.
The members of Annihilation’s Formosa branch spotted Snake Fang’s ships near the island’s coast,” Lian Jun explained, motioning to Gua One to send the information prepared earlier to the official’s email address.
“Check your mailbox.
I’ve asked my people to keep an eye on Snake Fang’s ships.
Apparently, they tend to hover around the shipping route Tarantula uses.”

Zhang Zhuoyuan wasn’t stupid—he realized what Lian Jun was getting at as soon as he heard “shipping route.” Turning on the computer to check the email from Lian Jun, he said with a frown, {Snake Fang wants to rob Tarantula’s goods? Are they planning to ignore the official letter I sent earlier?}

“Your letter only prohibits malicious competition among organizations.
Even if Snake Fang robs Tarantula’s goods, that’s only touching their property, not targeting the life of the organization’s leader or anything like that, so technically, they’re staying within the rules.”

Lian Jun’s observation made Zhang Zhuoyuan regain a clear mind.
He let out an embarrassed cough, swallowing the angry words scolding Snake Fang, and hurriedly opened the email.
There were photos attached, but the ships in them looked completely unremarkable, with nothing distinguishing them from ordinary vessels.
{Are those really Snake Fang’s ships?} he asked doubtfully.
{How did your people recognize them?}

“Naturally, we have our ways,” Lian Jun replied vaguely, making it clear he wasn’t going to answer this question.
“If Snake Fang really wants to grab the goods, there will be a battle.
You should contact Tarantula and ask about the departure time of their ships so you can clear the waters along the shipping route in advance to avoid innocent vessels getting caught in the crossfire.
I don’t think that G Province’s economy can withstand another disturbance.”

Zhang Zhuoyuan was taken aback.
{Is this the only reason you told me to pay attention to Snake Fang?} It’s not because you want to stop them?

“What other reason could there be?” Lian Jun’s tone was indifferent.
“It’s only a batch of goods.
Even if it’s robbed, it won’t affect Tarantula’s overall strength.
It’s common for underworld organizations to have conflicts with each other.
As long as it doesn’t affect the overall balance, they can do whatever they like—I have neither time nor energy to care.”

Zhang Zhuoyuan felt his stomach ache.
{But if it’s allowed for a fight to happen right in the coastal waters, the government’s position will be a little…} he said awkwardly.

“This, you have to take up with Snake Fang.
If they cared that they would make things difficult for the authorities, they wouldn’t be planning to rob Tarantula and do it on the official shipping route to boot.
They don’t have much respect for you, do they? It’s not that I don’t understand why they want to do it, though—Snake Fang is expanding too fast and its budget doesn’t keep up.
If it doesn’t secure more funds, it will probably collapse from within,” Lian Jun said flatly.
From his tone of voice, he might as well have been commenting on today’s weather.

There was no doubt that Lian Jun was still a little angry with the officials.
Not daring to aggravate him further, Zhang Zhuoyuan ignored the digs.
{In this case, perhaps it wouldn’t be bad to let it collapse?} he half-proposed, half-asked.
{Maybe we should help Tarantula and stop Snake Fang’s attack…}

“You can, but it’s not necessary,” Lian Jun replied.
He explained, “If Snake Fang keeps developing smoothly, it’ll be fine to suppress it appropriately to prevent it from growing too much, but making it collapse would require too much effort on our part.
Snake Fang is such a big organization, and it’s desperate to get funds.
We can stop it this time, but what about the next time? We’d need to constantly watch it.
Now is the critical time—we can’t let ourselves get distracted.”

Zhang Zhuoyuan mulled this over.
{Then, we should just let it make trouble?}

“As long as it doesn’t seriously attack the other three organizations and break the balance of power, it’s okay to leave it alone.
They’re about to form an alliance; the more conflicts they have, the less they’ll trust each other and the better the situation will be for us.
The leaders of Tarantula, Meridian Gate, and Epoch are all cautious and shrewd people, so the alliance also ‘needs’ someone as arbitrary as Snake Fang’s leader, Yuan Peng.
It wouldn’t be a good thing for the enemy side to be too united; Snake Fang, as the ‘bad apple spoiling the whole bunch,’ is absolutely necessary.”

After finishing his explanation, Lian Jun summed it up: “In short, you should keep an eye on Snake Fang and not let it develop too smoothly, but overall, you don’t need to care about it too much.
So long as it doesn’t try to trip up the other three organizations, just let it do whatever it wants.”

Zhang Zhuoyuan felt enlightened.
{You’re truly far-sighted,} he said, filled with admiration.
{All right, then, except for clearing the shipping route when the time comes, I’m not going to care about the matter of Snake Fang robbing Tarantula’s goods.}

“I see, thanks for your hard work.” Lian Jun hung up, then looked towards the tablet with a video call in progress.
“So that’s the situation,” he said to Lu Shan, who was the person on the other side of the call.
“If Snake Fang only grabs your goods and doesn’t touch Formosa, just bite it back.
Also, use this to try to delay the moment of it joining Meridian Gate and Epoch’s alliance.
If Snake Fang does target your resources on Formosa, then directly let the officials know—they’ll help you out, and Gua Three and Gua Five will take the opportunity to avenge you.”

This was the first time Lu Shan witnessed Lian Jun and Zhang Zhuoyuan discussing things alone.
With just a few words, Lian Jun fooled Zhang Zhuoyuan, leading him to change his idea from “Tarantula is acting suspiciously, it must be plotting something” to “Snake Fang is our ‘agent’ in the alliance, we must properly keep an eye on it and let it damage the other three.” As she watched, she felt her hair stand up on the back of her neck.

This guy was a monster.
Thank heavens they were on the same side.

{All, all right.
Can I let my cargo ships set off now?} she asked, her voice a bit hoarse as her throat felt dry for some reason.

“Yes.
You dragged your feet for so long, Snake Fang is probably feeling impatient already.
Remember to let Meridian Gate and Epoch notice Snake Fang’s movements, their leaders will know what to do.”

{Okay,} Lu Shan replied.
She hurriedly ended the call, then wiped the cold sweat on her head.

Under Lian Jun’s handsome human skin, there wouldn’t be hiding some kind of alien monster, right?…

Seeing that Lian Jun was done with the calls, Shi Jin gathered the documents he’d approved and hurried to the desk.
“I’m done, please take a look,” he said, slightly nervous, putting them in front of his lover.

Sponsored Content

The cold expression on Lian Jun’s face instantly faded away.
He took the files and looked through them, the corners of his mouth slowly rising as he was reading.
“It’s done well.
You firmly remembered everything Mr.
Feng has taught you,” he praised.

Shi Jin breathed a sigh of relief, and asked eagerly, “Then, can I maybe help you with your work?” 

“What do you want to have for dinner?” Lian Jun changed the subject.

Shi Jin’s expression fell.
“Still not good enough?”

“Learning is a process that takes time.
Don’t be in a rush,” Lian Jun soothed.
He looked through the window at the beach outside.
“Will your brother come to dinner today?”

Shi Jin also glanced towards the window.
“Probably,” he replied, his smile a little wan.
“Yesterday, he couldn’t get away.
The leading actor wasn’t doing well and the crew had to do a lot of retakes, so the filming dragged on.”

“Have you decided not to do it after all?” Lian Jun asked.

Shi Jin stopped gazing out of the window and looked at him, then sat down across from him and slumped down, lying on the desk.
“No, I’m doing it.
It’s just that I’m not feeling very energetic today.”

Lian Jun’s finger tapped on the wooden desktop.
He maneuvered his wheelchair from behind the desk, moved to Shi Jin’s side, wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist, and leaned in to kiss him.

Shi Jin blinked, then closed his eyes, letting him do what he wanted.

Their breaths intertwined, their scent blending together; it wasn’t a passionate kiss, but a gentle, soothing one.
After it ended, Lian Jun rubbed his slightly swollen lips and teased, “You really aren’t ‘energetic’ today.
Any other time, if I kissed you like this, you would’ve jumped me already.”

Shi Jin protested, “Not every time… Mm.”

Lian Jun kissed him again, his hand soothingly running along Shi Jin’s spine.
Then, it moved a little lower, sneaking under the hem of the young man’s shirt and caressing the smooth skin beneath.

Their mouths parted as their breathing became faster.
Lian Jun’s lips fell on Shi Jin’s cheek, leaving a trail of kisses as they moved towards his ear, then began to nibble on his earlobe.
Shi Jin might not be feeling energetic, but when provoked by his lover like this, there was no way he would stay indifferent.
He raised his arms to hug Lian Jun, reaching towards his belt.

Knock knock knock.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door of the study.

Lian Jun and Shi Jin’s movements paused at the same time, their gazes meeting—one filled with regret, the other still dazed and disoriented.

“We’ll continue at night,” Lian Jun whispered, dropping a light kiss on Shi Jin’s lips.
He helped him straighten up his clothes and hair and quickly did the same for himself.
Their appearance taken care of, he called out to the person outside.

When Gua Six knocked on the door and didn’t hear the answer immediately, he got a good guess on what was going on inside.
As he was regretting his timing and hesitating whether he should leave for now, he heard Lian Jun’s voice, completely calm, telling him to come in.

Have I misunderstood?

Feeling a little embarrassed, Gua Six opened the door.
After coming in, he saw Shi Jin sitting at the desk and working on the documents, with Lian Jun just next to the teenager, apparently teaching him.
Gua Six inwardly chastised himself for his impure mind, but his voice was as steady as usual as he reported, “Mr.
Rong is here.”

Rong Zhouzhong came?

Shi Jin subconsciously glanced towards the door.

“Go and see him, he probably came for dinner,” Lian Jun said, taking the file out of Shi Jin’s hand.
“I’ll join you when I finish work… Don’t think about it, don’t end up driving yourself in a corner—remember, no matter what, I’ll always be by your side.”

Shi Jin watched his lover’s gentle and dependable expression and couldn’t help but reach out and hug him.

Death Progress Bar is translated by Betwixted Translations.
Read on the original translator’s site to get the fastest updates!

Sponsored Content

Rong Zhouzhong was wearing a simple black t-shirt.
He had no glasses and his hair, though still brown and curly due to the needs of the role, was a little messy.
In short, today, his appearance looked much closer to his real temperament.

“The filming is over?” Shi Jin asked, plopping down opposite him.

When Rong Zhouzhong saw him, he sat up a little straighter.
“No, there’s still a night scene later in the evening.
It’s my last—after it’s done, I’ll be finished with the filming.”

Shi Jin instantly understood his meaning.
“So, tonight?”

“If you want to,” Rong Zhouzhong replied, his eyes never leaving Shi Jin.
His gaze was tranquil and his expression calm and serious, which was quite unusual for him.

Shi Jin found it hard to describe his feelings at the moment: he was a little at a loss and wanting to escape but at the same time, he felt an urge to get up and beat Rong Zhouzhong up until his brother stopped showing this kind of look that didn’t fit him at all.

“Okay, tonight, then.
There’s a cinema room on the second floor, which we can use.
I have prepared the movie already—we can watch it any time.
Do you want any snacks? I’ll ask the kitchen auntie to prepare something.”

“Then, cake,” Rong Zhouzhong replied.

Cake.

For a moment, memories churned and swirled; they both knew what this movie represented.
They looked at each other, but neither could discern the real emotions in the other’s eyes as if both of them suddenly put a polite mask on their faces.
Underneath, their mutual injuries were continuously dripping with blood, drenching them, but before the time came, they still wanted to keep up the illusion of peace.

Suddenly avoiding Shi Jin’s gaze, Rong Zhouzhong got up and left, his stride a little longer and quicker than usual.

Shi Jin didn’t try to stop him.
He listened to Rong Zhouzhong’s receding footsteps until the sound faded, then turned his head towards the terrace.
Finding his brother’s figure on the walkway, he quietly watched it slowly disappear in the distance.

If you’re seeing this notice, you’re reading this chapter on pirate site – the original translator of Death Progress Bar is Betwixted Translations.

After dinner, Shi Jin sat on the edge of the walkway, watching the crew with the help of the ‘Far-Seeing Eye’ buff.

Yesterday, after a long and exhausting afternoon, the lead actor finally got a proper feel for the role and finished the cliff scene so today, the crew switched locations to the ship.
According to the plot, the already grown-up protagonist is chased by the enemy and forced to jump from the ship into the sea to escape.
Exhausted and confused, he starts hallucinating as he keeps remembering the scene of his teacher’s death.

This was an important plot point that acted as the vehicle for the protagonist’s character transformation.
Rong Zhouzhong would appear as the protagonist’s inner demon, engaging in a dialogue with him as they drift in the seemingly endless sea.
For this scene to look more dramatic, the director instructed Rong Zhouzhong to stay completely drenched and floating in the water in the semblance of a water ghost.

And before filming this difficult night scene, Rong Zhouzhong and the lead actor still needed to act the scene of the protagonists defeating his inner demons; chronologically, it would happen after the sea scene, but it was supposed to be filmed as the sun was setting.
After the main character breaks free of the illusion, his teacher’s “water ghost” appearance fades and he regains his ordinary, gentle appearance, then slowly disappears.

This scene was set on the beach, to connect with the later scene of the protagonist waking up after getting rid of the hallucinations and finding that he was saved as the waves had washed him up on the beach.

Shi Jin watched as Rong Zhouzhong, bathed in the soft evening light, gently waved goodbye to the crying protagonist, then turned and walked away, slowly disappearing as the darkness fell.
Suddenly, his memory brought him back to the original ‘Shi Jin’s’ birthday party that year, and the scene of Rong Zhouzhong and ‘him’ blowing out the birthday candles.

At that time, Shi Xingrui was standing on the other side of the table, personally recording the birthday party with a video camera.
‘Shi Jin’ had forced Rong Zhouzhong to celebrate together with him on the excuse of Rong Zhouzhong becoming the movie emperor.
He ordered another cake for him and made the two of them blow out the candles together.

Two cakes, two people, each blowing out their own candles, standing together to receive the congratulations and best wishes from their family—for all appearances, it looked as if this birthday party was for the both of them.
Their father stood across the table, smiling warmly, for a moment looking like any other of the millions of ordinary loving fathers.

‘Shi Jin’ blew out the candles and smiled, turning to look at his dazzling third brother.
He thought that his brother would also be happy, but he saw that, veiled by smoke rising from extinguished candles, his brother’s gaze was hanging low, his beautiful peach blossom eyes sad and desolate, looking like all the light in them was gone.

It was just an instant, however.
When the smoke cleared, his brother smiled wide and hugged him, thanking him and wishing him a happy birthday.

From that moment, Rong Zhouzhong seemed to have slowly changed.
It was like he’d stripped away all the sensitive and soft parts of himself, gradually transforming into the current petty, grudge-holding, “if you make me unhappy, I must make you even more unhappy” Rong Zhouzhong.

“Sure enough, being an actor is really the most suitable profession for him,” Shi Jin said, watching Rong Zhouzhong who was preparing to board the ship in preparation to film his final scene.
His voice almost audible, he whispered, “It’s great that he was able to become an actor.”

Without the buffer of the actor’s profession and the world of movies where any emotion could be freely expressed, Rong Zhouzhong would have probably become the second Li Jiuzheng, or maybe the second Shi Weichong? Anyway, he definitely wouldn’t be the current Rong Zhouzhong.

Sponsored Content

The more he looked through the memories in his mind, the more he realized that hurt had always been mutual.
Intentional or unintentional, the injuries hurt the same.
Both of them were victims and perpetrators, and neither was truly innocent.

The ship’s horn sounded, signaling its departure.
It seemed that all the crew members had already come aboard, ready to film the protagonist defeating the demon his mind conceived.

His gaze swept over the ship, looking for a familiar figure.
He found him—standing in a conspicuous place on the deck, holding a pair of binoculars and looking straight this way.

Being caught peeping, Shi Jin panicked and hurriedly lowered his head.
It was only a moment later that he remembered that without the help of a buff, it was impossible for the ordinary person to see anyone on the ship.
By all appearances, he was just watching the scenery and didn’t need to avoid being noticed at all.

Tsk, careless.

His body stiffened a little.
He wanted to look up but didn’t dare to, so he simply raised his hand and rubbed his eyes as if they were tired, then got up and headed towards the villa.

Shi Jin stayed in the house for half an hour, until he estimated that the filming had already started, then went out to the terrace and continued to peek at the crew.
Though, even he had no idea why he was suddenly so obsessed with watching Rong Zhouzhong acting.

When it was completely dark, he asked Xiao Si to give him a night vision buff, then took out the snacks previously brought by Rong Zhouzhong and ate them as he watched.

Rong Zhouzhong was already in the water, lying on a rescue board and talking seriously to the leading actor.
The crew members were scurrying around them, getting everything ready, and the director was personally checking the safety equipment that would be used by Rong Zhouzhong.

About ten minutes later, the preparations were finally completed.
The leading actor floated face up in the water, his expression numb and lacking any desire for survival.
Rong Zhouzhong was slowly adjusting his posture, his upper body staying above water thanks to special equipment.
There were staff members in diving suits hiding under the water to help him keep his balance, but it was still very difficult for him to make it look like he was “standing still” in the water as if he was on the hard ground.

Fortunately, the conditions tonight were excellent.
The moon was full and bright, its cold light providing the natural illumination that was a perfect fit for the director’s artistic vision.
There was no wind and the sea surface was completely calm, minimizing the risk of having to reshoot the scene due to external factors.

Finally, about ten minutes later, the filming officially started.

Shi Jin was sitting too far away, so naturally, he couldn’t hear anything.
Also, because of the angle, he could only see Rong Zhouzhong’s face, but that was enough—Rong Zhouzhong was exactly what he wanted to watch.
As long as he could see him clearly, the rest wasn’t important.

In the movie, the “demon” sometimes comforts and encourages the protagonist, sometimes questions him coldly, sometimes tries to save his student and pull him out of the sea, and sometimes pushes him down in the water, trying to drag him to hell together.
As Shi Jin watched Rong Zhouzhong who seemed to have completely become another person, his posture gradually became more and more lazy.
Finally, he simply moved the rattan table over so he could lie on it.

Time passed.
Shi Jin already finished eating all of the snacks, but Rong Zhouzhong still hadn’t finished filming.

During the short breaks, Rong Zhouzhong would sit in the lifeboat to rest, wrapped in a blanket, scowling as he scolded the leading actor, while the leading actor would sit in another boat, hanging his head in frustration.

The shooting didn’t seem to go smoothly.

Watching Rong Zhouzhong frowning and talking angrily, Shi Jin let his eyes fall closed, his thoughts turning lazily.
Had anyone ever told Rong Zhouzhong that when he was angry for real, it was actually really scary? More than Shi Weichong and Fei Yujing’s angry appearance.

It was really, really scary.

Lian Jun opened the French window and moved his wheelchair to Shi Jin’s side, then covered the teenager with a blanket.

Gua Six was hovering worriedly behind him.
“Jun-shao, do you want to take Shi-shao inside?”

“No.” Lian Jun carefully tucked the blanket in.
Caressing Shi Jin’s face, wrinkled in a slight frown even in sleep, he said, “This is between him and Rong Zhouzhong.
He said he would wait for Rong Zhouzhong to finish filming so they could watch a movie together, so let him wait.”

“But if he stays like this, he will get sick,” Gua Six said, distressed.

He stifled a sigh.
Everyone could see that Shi Jin wasn’t his usual self, but they didn’t know how to make him feel better.
Shi Jin’s abnormality began with Rong Zhouzhong’s arrival, so it was obvious it was related to Rong Zhouzhong.
However, considering Shi Jin’s complicated family environment, they were afraid to ask rashly and potentially make the situation worse.

“Recently, Shi-shao’s state isn’t right.
He’s often in a daze and spends a long time sitting on the walkway…” As Lian Jun turned to look at him, Gua Six shut up.

Sponsored Content

Since they all could see it, how could Jun-shao, who cared about Shi Jin the most, not see it.

“…I’ll get some screens moved to the terrace to block the wind,” he said, rushing inside to take care of it.

Lian Jun watched him leave and looked back at Shi Jin.
He touched the young man’s face again, then leaned forward and hugged him, rubbing their cheeks together in a gentle caress.

“Do what you need to do and get better quickly,” he whispered with a sigh.
“Remember that I’m always by your side.”

Extra:

The brothers’ chat group:

Silence.

Silence.

Dead silence.

Shi Weichong: Why is Third so quiet recently?

Xiang Aoting: I’ve heard he’s filming a new movie.

Shi Weichong: Oh, I see.

Dead silence continues.

***

While the rest of the brothers thought Rong Zhouzhong was busy working:

Rong Zhouzhong [putting down the binoculars]: Xiao Jin was looking this way and crying! (Shi Jin: ???) …This won’t do, today’s shooting must be finished quickly!

Two hours later.

Rong Zhouzhong [face looking like a demon]: Don’t call me senior brother! I don’t have this kind of junior brother! You, do you even know how to act?! Can you act?! A damn chicken would be better than you!

Junior brother [trembling]: Sen-senior brother, I, I’ll work hard… 

Another half an hour later.

Rong Zhouzhong [demon transformation complete]: Director! Go find a chicken!!!

Translator’s Notes:

“She decided that the pot was already cracked, so it didn’t matter if it was smashed to pieces” [破罐子破摔  lit.
smash the pot if it’s already cracked] –  idiom: write oneself/the situation off as hopeless and act recklessly (like ‘Who cares what I do now, it can’t get any worse anyway’). “Snake Fang, as the ‘bad apple spoiling the whole bunch,’ is absolutely necessary” – literally: “One piece of mouse excrement spoiled one (whole) pot of rice congee.” (Wiktionary) I like the original better than the translation if we’re being honest.  “I’m not feeling very energetic today… You really aren’t ‘energetic'” – the expression Shi Jin uses is 没精 – listless, not energetic.
Check the other meanings of 精 to get the pun.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Translator: Eques
Editor: –

Eques:

Lian Jun is only 27 now, the same age Shi Jin was when he died in his last life, so I pretty much ignore the age difference here (even though I normally don’t like the age difference to be too big).