Zhou Yining walked into the private room. Zhou Wei, who was sitting nearby, pulled her close and raised an eyebrow. “Where is Dong-ge? Didn’t you manage to call him?”

Zhou Wei had worked with Ji Dongyang a few times and was an old colleague. She knew about Ji Dongyang’s serious morning temper (literally, “getting-up anger”), and Director Xu knew it too, so this task was essentially a hardship mission.

Zhou Yining was annoyed at being yelled at for no reason by a stone-faced man with a terrible temper, and didn’t feel like talking. Hearing footsteps, she looked back.

Ji Dongyang’s tall, slender figure was standing just outside the door, his expression indifferent as he glanced inside.

*Well, wasn’t he here now?*

Zhou Wei patted her shoulder and whispered, “That was rough.”

Zhou Yining was at a loss for words. She picked up a glass of red wine from the table and drank it down in one go.

The assistant director praised her. “Yining has a great capacity for alcohol! Come, come, let me introduce you to the other imperial concubines. You have quite a few scenes with them, so get acquainted.”

Zhou Yining was a complete newcomer. She hadn’t shot any commercials, been on any shows, or filmed a single drama. Her identity was a mystery. Many only knew her as Consort Ning in the Taiping Dynasty. Apart from Director Xu and the assistant director, no one knew she was Qin Sen’s cousin.

Everyone present, like the netizens, was speculating about her identity. The assistant director was a smart man. He noticed their thoughts, but he only introduced Zhou Yining by her role and did not mention her background.

After circling the room, Zhou Yining had drunk quite a bit of wine. Her pale cheeks were flushed, her skin looked translucent and delicate, and her almond-shaped eyes were misty, exuding a captivating and charming allure.

To be fair, her appearance now did capture some of the image of Consort Ning: both innocent and alluring, yet potentially seductive and ruthless.

Many people dismissed their conspiracy theories, thinking perhaps Director Xu had simply been drawn to Zhou Yining’s looks!

Zhou Yining walked around with the assistant director, then returned to her seat. Jing Xin, next to her, asked, “You haven’t had too much to drink, have you?”

Zhou Yining tilted her head and smiled. “A little tipsy.”

This was a lie.

Just then, Director Xu across the table waved her over. “Zhou Yining, come here for a moment.”

Zhou Yining glanced at Ji Dongyang next to Director Xu, picked up her wine glass, and stood up to walk over. Jing Xin looked worriedly at Qin Sen. “Is she okay drinking that much?”

Qin Sen glanced at her. “She’s fine. Her tolerance can handle it.”

Director Xu pointed to Ji Dongyang and said, “This is our Emperor Xiao. You two know each other, right?”

Zhou Yining looked at Ji Dongyang. The man was tall and straight, his features handsome, his temperament cool and distant. His image matched the countless posters her sister, Zhou JiaHui, had stuck up at home. Of course, she hadn’t put them up herself.

Her father was wealthy, and Zhou JiaHui was simply a fan. In this world, money could solve too many problems.

Zhou Yining had first met Ji Dongyang four years ago at Zhou JiaHui’s 18th birthday party, and she had seen him a few times later on the set of the movie Redemption.

Ji Dongyang looked at her and said coolly, “We know each other.”

His voice was deep and magnetic; every syllable sounded alluring. It was rumored that he voiced all of his own movies and dramas.

Zhou Yining swirled the wine in her glass, her smile enchanting. “Yes, we know each other.”

Director Xu looked at them skeptically. These two don’t seem very friendly! He was genuinely concerned about the progress of the filming.

After the dinner, Director Xu told everyone to go back and rest early. They had an early start tomorrow.

…

Outside the restaurant, Zhou Yining was leaning half her weight on Jing Xin. Her eyes, lazy at the corners, subtly lifted as she spotted the man walking past. Just then, a night wind blew, scattering the stray hairs across her forehead.

Jing Xin thought she was drunk and said, “I’ll take you back.”

The next second, Zhou Yining stood up straight and smiled sideways. “No need. I’ll go back myself.”

Zhou Yining walked quickly in her high heels, watching Jing Xin freeze on the spot and mutter, “I thought she was really drunk.”

Qin Sen laughed. “Don’t worry. She has great alcohol tolerance. She can drink a few men under the table.”

Ji Dongyang was tall with long legs and walked quickly. Zhou Yining caught up to him just as the elevator door was slowly closing. She reached out and blocked it.

The elevator door slowly opened again…

Zhou Yining strolled in unhurriedly and stood next to Ji Dongyang.

There were two girls in the elevator who looked like students, excitedly pushing each other. “You go, you first.”

“I’m too embarrassed. You first…”

“Hurry up, or you’ll miss your chance…”

“You first…”

Hengdian was always a gathering place for fans, especially during summer break, when many students would come to try their luck at meeting their idols.

Judging by their tone, the two girls behind her must be Ji Dongyang’s fans.

Finally, just as the elevator door opened, the two girls mustered up their courage, handed a notebook to Ji Dongyang, and said blushingly, “Dong-ge, could you sign this for us?”

Ji Dongyang lowered his gaze, took the pen they offered, and skillfully signed his name.

He tucked the pen into the fold of the notebook, nodded, and walked out of the elevator.

The two young girls hugged each other excitedly. “Ahhh, we got it!”

Zhou Yining smiled at them and slowly walked out of the elevator, following Ji Dongyang.

Ji Dongyang pulled out his room key card and seemed to notice her for the first time. He turned to look at her. “Is something wrong?”

Zhou Yining stopped and leaned her shoulder against the wall. “Don’t you think you should apologize to me?”

Ji Dongyang’s expression was calm. He remembered the incident from the afternoon and said softly, “My apologies.”

He had a heavy workload these past few years, and his morning temper was severe, bordering on the abnormal. Other than work, allowing him to quickly adjust his state, no one could handle his temper when woken up, and anyone would have been yelled at.

Ji Dongyang was well aware of this.

Zhou Yining seemed surprised that he was so cooperative. She straightened up and stared at him.

After a few seconds, she suddenly smiled. “Never mind. Though I do feel a little sorry for your assistant.”

Zhou Yining finished her sentence and turned to leave.

Ji Dongyang glanced at her slender back, frowned slightly, swiped his card, and entered his room.

…

The next day, Ji Dongyang arrived on set early. He sat upright in his chair with his eyes closed, allowing the makeup artist to do his fitting.

He had been busy filming the movie Redemption recently. An accident during the shoot delayed the wrap date by more than ten days, holding up the progress of this crew. Fortunately, both projects were invested in and produced by Hua Chen, allowing for better coordination.

Among the official photos released, he was the only male lead missing, so the first order of business upon arrival was to shoot his fitting photos.

Zhou Yining’s scenes weren’t in Hengdian yet. She had only come this time purely out of curiosity about the male lead. Since the male lead turned out to be Ji Dongyang, half her enthusiasm had evaporated, and she wandered listlessly around the temporary outdoor set.

Filming historical dramas in the middle of summer was always a struggle. The layered historical costumes made the weather feel sweltering, and everyone on the crew was restless. Those with assistants had them fan them; those without had to fan themselves.

She was dressed lightly and felt their struggle just by watching.

Suddenly, a gust of wind brushed past her.

She looked to the side. Ji Dongyang, in his historical costume, walked past her. The gust of wind was created by the sweeping motion of his large, ornate sleeves.

The photographer and makeup artist followed him. The spot for the fitting photos had already been set up.

The Taiping Dynasty was a grand, fictional historical drama without a specific dynasty, telling the story of two nations battling for control and unification. At this time, Ji Dongyang’s character, Xiao Teng, was still the Crown Prince, but he needed to change costumes several times for the fitting photos.

Zhou Yining held a small rechargeable fan to her face, her eyes unconsciously drifting toward Ji Dongyang.

She was curious. He was wearing such thick layers, yet why wasn’t there even a drop of sweat on his forehead?

Could the Movie King’s acting skills be so profound that he could control the flow of sweat in his body?

Half an hour later, Ji Dongyang walked past her again. Zhou Yining saw he had changed into a suit of armor. The props team led over a Ferghana horse. Ji Dongyang mounted the horse with a practiced and handsome motion. The horse whinnied and bucked a few times, lifting its front hooves high. The neighing was heart-stopping, as if the horse was about to throw its rider off any second.

Ji Dongyang calmly reined in the saddle rope. The horse quieted down after a few more movements, and Ji Dongyang leaned down and gently patted its head, as if soothing the restless animal.

“Dong-ge is so hot! The way he rides a horse is absolutely mesmerizing.”

A girl nearby, dressed in a maid’s costume, watched Ji Dongyang with stars in her eyes.

Zhou Yining glanced at the girl, then back at Ji Dongyang, and noticed large beads of sweat starting to collect on the man’s forehead, tracing paths from his hairline down to his jawline, dripping into the swirling dust.

Although she didn’t want to admit it, he had indeed looked very handsome just now.

Everyone had their own shining moments. Fans always said Ji Dongyang could portray any role perfectly. As long as he was acting, his life seemed to be at the peak of a pyramid, where people could see him, admire him, and love him.

Soon, Ji Dongyang’s fitting photos as the male lead were released to the public, and his fans went wild.

“Dong-ge is still so heroic and striking in historical dramas! His historical dramas are what I’ve been looking forward to the most these past few years. He makes me want to cry!”

“I’m dedicated to watching this drama just for Dong-ge! He’s as handsome as ever!”

“I love Dong-ge in armor the most. He’s the coolest general in my heart.”

“Ladies of the Eastern Palace, let’s compete! The position of Empress is still open!”

…

Zhou Yining was in her hotel room, scrolling boredly through Weibo. She had probably been wrong. Ji Dongyang would never die alone. His fan club was called the Eastern Palace, with thousands of fans who called themselves his imperial concubines, and countless fans clamored every day to have his children.

—
NOTES
Serious morning temper: Literally “severe getting-up anger.” A common phrase describing extreme grumpiness when woken up.
Ferghana horse: An ancient Chinese term for a valuable and fast horse, literally “sweats blood horse,” generally referring to the famous breed.