"What's the matter with you?" Director Jin asked Ding Ming angrily. "Did I ask you to fall over? I just want you to act like a lecherous pervert. You want to ad-lib, fine, but that isn't the way to do it."
The shot had been set up perfectly; it was supposed to be an aesthetically pleasing shot, but Ding Ming had ruined it all by falling over dramatically, like a complete buffoon. Director Jin wondered whether Ding Ming was trying to sabotage his show with terrible, over-the-top acting.
"Sorry, Director. I won't do it again." Ding Ming quickly got to his feet. He rubbed his aching kneecaps. He had tried his best to act well, but Yan Huan's frosty attitude had terrified him.
They redid the scene from the top. Yan Huan walked over to Ding Ming, her expression as cool and placid as a wintry lake. Her face glowed with ethereal energy as her sleeves fluttered in the wind.
This was an immortal fairy. A beautiful, perfect girl who was pure and innocent.
