On Zhou Yining’s second day in Hengdian, the third male lead, Yu Yuanhang, arrived on set.

The assistant director called her over to introduce them. “This is Yu Yuanhang. You two have quite a few scenes together, so get acquainted.”

Yu Yuanhang originally debuted as a singer, but his music career never took off. He entered the acting world two years ago, and last year, his role as the male lead in a historical drama propelled his career to a peak. His acting skills had matured, and with his outstanding looks, he quickly shot to fame. His popularity was booming. Some media even speculated that he might be the next Ji Dongyang.

Yu Yuanhang extended his hand to Zhou Yining and smiled. “Hello, I’m Yu Yuanhang.”

Zhou Yining shook his hand, blinking playfully. “Sailing far and wide (Yang Fan Yuan Hang)?”

Yu Yuanhang raised an eyebrow. “Exactly.”

They both laughed. Yu Yuanhang was in his mid-twenties, close to Zhou Yining’s age, and young people quickly became familiar with each other.

That evening, Director Xu gathered several lead actors in his room to discuss the script. Zhou Yining’s scenes were mostly interior, and none were in Hengdian yet. With no schedule and no manager, she was completely free. Director Xu looked at her. “You should come too. Think of it as learning.”

Zhou Yining followed them. She sat next to Zhou Wei, with Ji Dongyang across from her.

Because Ji Dongyang joined the crew late and had delayed the shooting schedule, they would be filming his scenes intensively over the next few days.

Tonight was Ji Dongyang’s main event.

His deep, magnetic voice filled her ears. Listening to him, Zhou Yining couldn’t help but look at his face. His expression was calm. As he spoke, he marked his script with annotations. His handwriting was strong and vigorous, almost piercing the paper. She involuntarily looked at his hand.

The fingers resting on the paper were clean and long, but she knew his palm was full of small scars and calluses accumulated over the years.

Zhou Yining stared blankly at that hand, suddenly recalling the night of Zhou JiaHui’s 18th birthday four years ago. She had worn a black, low-cut, high-slit, backless dress, a stark contrast to Zhou JiaHui’s white princess gown, a deliberately mature look that made her seem like a bad older sister. The next second, her foot suddenly snagged on something. She tried desperately to steady herself but ultimately fell in front of everyone.

She was only nineteen that year. No matter how mature she dressed, she was still a young girl. Falling in public stripped the pride from her face, leaving her overcome with shame, her face flushing crimson.

No one knew how utterly helpless she felt in that moment.

The man closest to her bent down, grabbed her hand, and used his other hand to steady her waist, pulling her up from the cold floor. His hands were long and clean, but the palm tightly gripping her wrist was thick and rough, causing a slight, sharp pain on her delicate skin.

In that moment, she was immensely grateful to the man for rescuing her from the embarrassment. Just as she was about to look up, she heard the man’s deep, rich voice above her head: “You’ve had a wardrobe malfunction.”

His voice was neither too loud nor too soft; anyone standing nearby could hear it. Someone let out a light laugh: “Yining is dressed so sexy tonight, it makes little difference whether she slips or not.”

Another agreed, “Exactly. When you dress so revealingly, it’s hard not to slip.”

Witty or unintentional jokes and sarcasm rose and fell around her.

The gratitude in her heart vanished completely. She looked up at the man, paused for a few seconds when she saw his face, and quickly yanked her hand away. “None of your damn business.”

That night, Zhou Yining’s dislike for Ji Dongyang reached its peak. Who was he, a Movie King, to attend that birthday party? Perhaps his intentions were good at the time, but she wished he hadn’t pulled her up at all. What gave him the right to say something so humiliating?

The memory of the event years ago made Zhou Yining frown, and she felt restless.

Just as she was about to find an excuse to leave, Director Xu spoke. “That’s all for tonight. Everyone, go back and get some rest.”

Zhou Wei said, “Oh, it’s already 11 p.m.? Time flies.”

Zhou Yining realized with a start. Had three hours passed already? Had she been spacing out for that long?

Everyone gathered their scripts. Zhou Yining stood up and followed the others out of Director Xu’s room.

Zhou Wei leaned in, smiling. “Is this your first time participating in a script discussion? How was it?”

Zhou Yining didn’t want to admit she hadn’t listened closely, so she forced herself to nod. “It was fine.”

Zhou Wei looked at Ji Dongyang, teasing him. “Dong-ge is the most serious when discussing a script, and he’s best at helping people get into character. You have a lot of scenes with him; you can ask him for advice when it’s your turn to shoot. But he’s very strict, so you’ll have to handle the pressure.”

Zhou Yining rejected the idea instantly. “No need. I’ll just learn from Sister Wei! You’re the Actress Queen!”

Zhou Wei was surprised. Zhou Yining was being quite disrespectful to Ji Dongyang. Most newcomers couldn’t wait to cling to him. She looked at Ji Dongyang. He glanced back at Zhou Yining, his tone detached. “I can’t teach her.”

Zhou Wei was even more astonished. Although Ji Dongyang was aloof, he was usually somewhat accommodating to newcomers. If a rookie were humble, he would usually offer a pointer or two.

Ji Dongyang finished speaking, turned, and left.

Zhou Yining was stunned for a few seconds, then also smiled and waved goodbye to the others. “I’m heading back to my room, too. Everyone, get some rest early.”

The two left one after the other. Someone asked Zhou Wei curiously, “Did they know each other before?”

Zhou Wei thought for a moment. “They said they’d met a few times before, so I guess they know each other.”

They were more than just acquaintances; they seemed to dislike each other.

The world was confusing, and she was starting to lose track.

…

Zhou Yining and Ji Dongyang had both joined the crew later and were on different floors from the others. They entered the elevator together.

It was late, and there were only two of them in the elevator.

Zhou Yining was wearing flat shoes today. She was 166 cm tall, and Ji Dongyang was 186 cm. Standing next to each other, she looked even more petite and slender.

She stared at the rising numbers on the elevator display, then glanced at the man standing with his hands in his pockets. She asked casually, “Why did you say you couldn’t teach me? You just weren’t willing, were you?”

Ji Dongyang didn’t expect her to initiate conversation. In front of others, she would smile and call him Dong-ge, but when they were alone, she looked at him with disdain.

Having been an actor for so many years, he was good at reading expressions. He understood her subtle emotions at a glance.

He suddenly chuckled. “If you disrespect me, how can I teach you?”

Zhou Yining looked up. He was looking down at her from a height. She averted her gaze. “You’re right. I don’t respect you, and I wouldn’t want you to teach me.”

Ji Dongyang looked straight ahead. “I heard you came here to run away from a marriage. I don’t know how you got involved with this crew, but I advise you that if you’re just treating this as a game, you should inform Director Xu soon. It saves them the trouble of finding a replacement actor at the last minute.”

Recently, the large-scale historical drama Legend of Consort Ming, invested in by Starry Sky Pictures, was also filming in Hengdian. Starry Sky and Hua Chen were long-time rivals. Starry Sky’s new major investor, Ke Teng, was aggressive. The Taiping Dynasty crew had recently lost several actors, and the entire shooting schedule was being constantly disrupted.

Ding…

The elevator door opened.

Zhou Yining’s floor had arrived. She walked out and turned to face him, standing on the threshold of the elevator.

The elevator had stopped. She faced Ji Dongyang and frowned. “How did you know I ran away from a marriage?”

Ji Dongyang’s expression remained calm. “That’s not the point.”

Zhou Yining lifted her chin. “Then what is?”

Ji Dongyang: “The point is you will affect the shooting schedule of the entire crew.”

Zhou Yining: “…”

She bit her lip, thoroughly provoked. She spat out a final sentence bitterly: “Don’t you worry, I definitely won’t be a burden to you!“