Xia Xuanfeng’s expression turned subtle as he pointed at the screen. “Look at that person.”
Yue Shi followed his finger.
The male and female leads were still pouring their hearts out to each other. The scene shifted; the patient who had been left on the operating table was being pushed into another operating room by a responsible nurse.
The lead surgeon was no longer the male lead, but another doctor wearing glasses and surgical scrubs, head bowed in concentration as he picked up a scalpel.
As he operated, he muttered something under his breath.
Yue Shi leaned closer to the screen, scrutinizing the face. His jaw nearly dropped.
“Isn’t that... the doctor who examined me at the hospital just now?”
It was the same emergency room doctor with the terrible attitude, the one who had snapped at Xia Xuanfeng until he was speechless, asking, “Are you the doctor, or am I?”
On the screen, he was performing surgery with sweat dripping down his face, all while complaining incessantly.
“They cause the trouble, and I take the fall. Did I owe them a debt in a past life?”
“An operating room is a serious place, yet those two use it to flirt. So damn melodramatic. Who takes responsibility if something happens to the patient?”
A nearby nurse advised him to say less.
He glared at her. “What, am I wrong? Is he the only doctor in this entire hospital? Is he the only one who knows how to operate?”
“He spends all day busy falling in love, and when things go south, I’m the one who has to wipe his ass. In the end, he gets the good reputation while I do all the hard work, and I’m not even allowed to complain?”
Yue Shi nodded repeatedly. He had seen many utility characters, scapegoats, and anonymous supporting roles in film and television, but few could roast the protagonists so bluntly.
It was no wonder that doctor had such a foul temper. Anyone would be irritable if they had to spend every day cleaning up after a pair of brainless leads.
However, he still didn’t quite understand—was that doctor a real doctor or an actor? And how was this show filmed?
At that moment, rows of bullet screen comments floated across the screen.
【The male lead and female lead are such a perfect match, I love it!】
【This extra doctor actually dares to insult the male lead behind his back? How ungrateful. It’s his blessing to be able to work for the male lead.】
【Exactly! The male lead is the youngest chief surgeon in the whole hospital. Who does this guy think he is?】
【Without the male lead, this hospital would have gone bankrupt long ago. This extra is just trying to ride his coattails.】
【I feel so bad for the male lead. He has to do surgery, maintain a relationship, and deal with people stabbing him in the back.】
Yue Shi’s mouth twitched as he read the comments. Were the people posting these comments pseudo-humans? Their character was so poor they could almost rival him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something strange through the window.
He turned his head. Outside, against the azure sky, massive rows of text were floating by.
【The male lead and female lead are such a perfect match, I love it!】
【This extra doctor actually dares to insult the male lead behind his back? How ungrateful. It’s his blessing to be able to work for the male lead.】
They were exactly the same as the bullet screen comments on the computer screen.
Yue Shi stared blankly for a long time before looking back at the computer. The comments were floating on the screen, and they were floating in the sky outside—the two were synchronized in real-time.
“What’s going on? Why is this bullet screen appearing in the sky?”
Xia Xuanfeng looked at him as if he were being nonsensical. “Is there a problem? Isn’t this normal?”
Yue Shi frowned. How the hell was this normal?!
But looking at Xia Xuanfeng’s face, he seemed completely sincere, not like he was lying. It was as if he were accustomed to the comments in the sky, viewing them as a daily occurrence.
Before Yue Shi could say anything else—
Thump.
A book appeared out of thin air in Xia Xuanfeng’s hand. There was no warning; it simply manifested in his palm, plain as day.
It was a hardcover book, dark red, with a line of gold-stamped text on the cover: 《My Campus Era》.
Yue Shi looked around alertly, having failed to detect how the book had appeared.
Xia Xuanfeng looked down and flipped through it. His expression was natural, but his tone held a hint of annoyance. “Oh, I have scenes? Looks like I have to go back to school tomorrow.”
He flipped a few more pages and sighed. “It’s the role of the simp supporting male lead again. I have to go bring the female lead breakfast, get rejected by her, and then be humiliated by the male lead.”
“Actually, I really hate this kind of melodramatic garbage, and I hate simps even more.”
“Most simps give me a sense of greed. Their looks and wealth don't meet the standard, so they bet their dignity as a stake, trying to punch above their weight to get a partner they were never worthy of in the first place.”
“The leads in the new show are both second-generation elites with great families. I’m just a good student with some looks; we aren't even from the same world. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't even interact with them, but the plot forces me to be a simp to create conflict. It’s so annoying...”
As Xia Xuanfeng prattled on, Yue Shi’s worldview was undergoing a total reconstruction. He stared at the script, utterly bewildered. “Is this right?”
Xia Xuanfeng looked even more confused than Yue Shi. “What’s not right?”
Yue Shi pointed at the script. “What exactly is this script?”
“A script is a script,” Xia Xuanfeng said as if it were obvious.
“I’m asking, who gave this script to you? Who wrote it?” Yue Shi’s voice was incredibly serious.
“God, of course.” Xia Xuanfeng closed the script and looked at him with an expression that said, ‘I can’t believe you’re asking such a childish question.’
Yue Shi fell silent. Gradually, through Xia Xuanfeng’s words, he began to grasp the basic worldview of this place.
This world had a God. And that God was, in fact, the Audience.
Everyone in this world—man or woman, young or old, even a newborn baby—was considered an actor.
From the moment a person was born, they began to act, serving as background extras, props, or anonymous passersby in countless movies and TV shows at every moment.
Xia Xuanfeng said, “Under normal circumstances, ordinary people don’t need scripts. Their lives are simply the background elements of the plot.”
“Eating, sleeping, going to school, working—these are all background. They might be filmed, or they might not, but life goes on. No one knows which show they’ve appeared in.”
“Life is a play, and a play is life. There is no curtain call, no intermission. Everything we are is part of the plot.”
Yue Shi leaned back in his chair, digesting this information.
Xia Xuanfeng continued, “But occasionally, some people are given scripts. They are chosen by God to play an important role in a certain production.”
Yue Shi raised an eyebrow. “Like being a simp supporting male lead?”
“Yes, it’s quite a tragic story. Fortunately, I’m still a minor, so I won’t be cast in anything too bizarre.” Xia Xuanfeng placed the script on his lap.
Yue Shi looked at Xia Xuanfeng. This sixteen or seventeen-year-old high schooler currently exuded a weariness that suggested he had seen it all.
“What a strange world...”
Xia Xuanfeng’s eyes lowered. “Don’t be so quick to marvel. You’ve asked so many questions; now it’s my turn.”
“I’m very curious about who you actually are. You don’t even know the basic operating rules of this world, nor do you know about the existence of the Audience.”
“The questions you just asked... even a three-year-old wouldn’t ask them.”
Rate on N.U.
