I’m Not Shouldering This Blame

Life as a stuntman was a constant dance with danger, a daily grind of precision falls and controlled chaos. But for Wei, it was an ordinary Tuesday when the world decided to go completely off-script. It started with a flurry of calls – acquaintances, strangers, even a government official. Team Leader Jian Hua, a stern-faced woman with a steely glint in her eyes, laid down the first truly unbelievable line: “Comrade Wei, we need to talk about a recently discovered world secret.”

Wei’s jaw unhinged, a silent echo of the “WTF” that threatened to explode from his throat. Team Leader Jian Hua, oblivious to his internal meltdown, continued. “Our world,” she declared with an air of grim revelation, “is a book.”

Wei blinked. Once. Twice. Maybe this was a particularly elaborate prank staged by his fellow stuntmen. “You’re messing with me, right?” he finally managed, his voice a strangled whisper.

“Not in the least,” Jian Hua replied, her features unyielding. “And you, Wei, are the designated villain of the final volume in a seven-part saga.”

Wei’s mind reeled. A book world? A villain? His life had been about controlled explosions and well-rehearsed tumbles, not world-ending plots. Just as he was about to voice his disbelief, the door creaked open.

A parade of characters straight out of a fantastical novel flooded the room. First came a woman with tear-filled eyes, claiming to be his childhood friend, the one destined to hold a special place in his heart. Then came a man, all warmth and concern, demanding complete trust. And finally, a woman overflowing with unsolicited affection, insisting their bond went far beyond mere friendship.

Wei stared at them, a bewildered goldfish trapped in a bowl of bewilderment. His internal monologue, summed up perfectly by the blinking ellipses above his head, remained unspoken. This wasn’t just a Tuesday anymore; it was the start of a story far more outrageous than anything he’d ever performed. And unlike his usual stunt work, this script had no safety net, no guarantee of a happy ending. He was a stuntman thrust into a fantastical reality, the villain in a book world coming alive. The question was, would he play the part, or rewrite his own narrative?