4 a.m. It was pouring rain outside. A man, standing at 1.88 meters tall and owning several villas, was asking you for tuition fees. Li Ling felt very conflicted and developed a rather strong sense of resentment towards the wealthy. This was the first time she had heard of a director charging actors for giving them acting lessons. How absurd. But before she could say anything, another door across the hallway opened. Xiao Liu, who was dressed in his cleaning uniform and ready for work, let out a huge yawn. When he looked up, he almost dislocated his jaw. "D-Director, good morning," he said, terrified and stammering, ready to run away. Then he saw Li Ling not far away. Xiao Liu: ? He turned his head in disbelief, first looking at the expressionless director, then at the smiling Li Ling. "…" He slammed the door shut. - The next day, Li Ling deliberately hid in the bathroom for a while, hoping to hear if any new stories were circulating outside. It remained very quiet outside. She walked out feeling somewhat disappointed, just as someone asked, "Where's Xiao Liu? Why hasn't he come to work?" "He took sick leave, said he was spooked last night and got too scared." Li Ling: "…" The one who spooked him quietly returned to the set and found the teddy bear costume ready, waiting for her in the basement. The lines and scenes the director had personally gone over with her yesterday were still fresh in her mind, and the scene went smoothly. She felt an inexplicable joy of having gotten something for free and went to the monitor to watch her performance, only to find the teddy bear had followed her. The person took off the headpiece, revealing none other than the silent and reserved Director Jin himself. He glanced at her emotionlessly. As if he was about to ask for the debt. Why wasn't the stand-in teacher here to rehearse with her today? Li Ling was actually a bit surprised, but remembering she still owed the young master tuition fees, she scurried away. For the next few days, the set was peaceful, just like the characters Zhou Jing and A Ling in the script. During the day, Zhou Jing went to work at the theater, leaving before dawn and silently preparing everything for the person living in the house before he left. At night, when he returned, A Ling was usually already asleep. She never spoke to him, even her sleeping posture was turned away from him. Their relationship was more distant than that of roommates, like strangers living under the same roof. However, in the dead of night, Zhou Jing would still put on the heavy, bulky teddy bear costume and, through those cold, lifeless fake eyes, gaze at the sleeping woman. The enormous shadow, like murky black water, completely engulfed her. No one knew what he was thinking. This surface calm was the prelude to a storm. Soon, they would be filming a rather intense scene from the earlier part of the story. This scene took place in the bathroom. - Li Ling arrived on set before dawn. She was convinced she would be the first one there, so when she heard the sound of running water, she thought someone had forgotten to turn off the faucet the night before. How wasteful, she thought indignantly, and barged in, only to see Director Jin washing his hands. To be fair, his posture was straight, his demeanor perfect, and his movements orderly. Even standing in such a dilapidated bathroom, it was a cinematic scene, fit for a public service announcement. But Li Ling felt something was off. Why would he come to the set so early just to wash his hands? Was he here to steal water? She held the doorknob, standing there for a long time without leaving. Jin Jingyao glanced at her, expressionless, and turned off the faucet. He dried his hands with a towel and prepared to leave the bathroom. Li Ling was still blocking the doorway. Jin Jingyao said, "Aren't you leaving?" Li Ling blinked, "Director, what a coincidence, you're here so early too." "Not a coincidence." She instinctively replied, "'I'm waiting for you'?" "Who's waiting for you?" He looked at her with some confusion, "I come this early every day." "Sorry, Director, that joke is too old." Li Ling awkwardly changed the subject, "Should we go over the lines first?" Jin Jingyao snorted lightly, "Tuition fee." What a detestable capitalist, still thinking about the tuition fee. "Speaking of the tuition fee... Director, look, you're already here." Li Ling laughed dryly, trying to make some useless small talk. "Let's go." He walked past her expressionlessly. With a "bang," something suddenly fell from above. It seemed to be a heavy prop from the shelf. Li Ling reacted quickly, catching it and steadying him, preventing a potential on-set accident. "Alright." Her eyes lit up with joy, "A life-saving grace, not worth mentioning, can it at least cover a bit of the tuition fee..." Before she finished speaking, she saw Jin Jingyao staring straight at her, his gaze a bit strange. Li Ling asked in confusion, "What's wrong, Director?" He took a step back. Only then did she realize that because of the little incident just now, the distance between them had become very close, almost as if she had pinned him against the bathroom wall. Oh no. She didn't mean to corner the director. The dim bathroom light cast an upward glow on the young director's profile. His dense eyelashes slowly lowered, casting a ring of eclipse-like shadow on his eyelids, inexplicably making him look very gloomy. Li Ling immediately tried to stand up, but he grabbed her hand, almost roughly dragging her to the sink and turning on the faucet. "Wash your hands," he said. Li Ling: ??? "Director, you..." His grip was really strong, her hand was almost hurting from his hold. Although she was very surprised, it was simply baffling. But under the pressure of authority, Li Ling had no choice but to cooperate, using a very standard five-step method to carefully clean her hands. Come to think of it, she hadn't touched anything dirty just now. While washing her hands, she recalled a certain soft and warm touch that had briefly brushed her fingertips, and suddenly showed a very horrified expression. No. Her hand seemed to have... unintentionally... Brushed against the director's... lips. Li Ling looked up in greater horror, only to see Jin Jingyao standing behind her, staring at her through the mirror. Light and shadow flickered across his face, like a montage scene from a black-and-white silent film. His lip shape was perfect. —The texture was top-notch! His eyes, however, were hidden in the shadows, making them hard to see clearly. ...Such a terrifying gaze. Li Ling didn't dare to ask more, lowered her head, and obediently washed her hands again. The cold water flowed over her fingertips, and as her rationality slowly returned, she couldn't help but think, something still seemed very wrong. If the director was touched by her, shouldn't his first reaction be to wipe his own lips clean? Why would he instead ask her to wash her hands? Such a strange logic. Li Ling sneaked another glance at Jin Jingyao. He was still staring at her without any intention of cleaning himself. Some strange scenes from the set suddenly flooded her mind: the gloves he refused to take off, the dilapidated room, the producer's words to her. The never-ending long takes, the ceaseless sound of water, the indelible stains... A sudden flash of insight struck her: What if... it was the other way around? He didn't think others were dirty; he thought he was dirty. Could that be possible? Li Ling thought this guess was bold and absurd, almost impossible to establish. But she still turned off the faucet and quietly asked Jin Jingyao, "Director, why did you insist on using a stand-in that day when we were filming, rather than taking off your gloves?" Jin Jingyao looked at her for a few seconds. "Not necessary." "What about the scene we're about to shoot? Will you still wear gloves?" "No." "Really?" Li Ling questioned him. She reached out to touch his face, but he dodged. So she grabbed his wrist instead. This time she moved quickly, or maybe he didn't try that hard to avoid it. In any case, she touched him. Jin Jingyao frowned slightly. "What are you doing?" Li Ling looked into his eyes and said somewhat helplessly, "Director, you just said you wouldn't, and this is what you call 'wouldn't.'" Jin Jingyao said nothing, pressing his lips together. Li Ling: "Director, how are we supposed to shoot like this?" A normal person would at least show a bit of guilt at this point. But Director Jin just looked at her silently. Does not speaking mean they could continue? Li Ling laughed awkwardly, encouraging herself internally. She slowly tried to press his hand against her face. She still felt slight resistance, but compared to before, it was negligible. The flickering light in the bathroom carried a bit of drowsy warmth, like a submarine diving deeply, circling around them. The young man's fingers were still very cold, as if carrying the dampness of the deep sea. The pads of his fingers had a thin layer of calluses, and as they touched her skin, they unconsciously rubbed slightly. That almost rough texture made her nearly get goosebumps. But that was all. No invasion. No conquering. He made no further moves, merely pressing his palm against her face, as if that alone was too much, too unbearable. Li Ling suddenly realized her own heartbeat had sped up. Thump, thump, thump, thump, as if it would leap out of her chest. She couldn't tell if it was surprise, nervousness, or excitement. Or perhaps all three. She still remembered how astonishing Jin Jingyao's performance was in her first film. He displayed a calm, chilling acting skill, completely transforming into another person. And he was only eighteen at the time. But even such a genius actor had things he couldn't do. Things he couldn't do, but she could. Now she was the one teaching him. Li Ling gazed into his eyes and whispered, "Director, I've repaid the tuition." She recalled the scene from a few days ago. At that time, Jin Jingyao had repeatedly instructed the stand-in actor on how to touch his own face with the right movements and posture. Her memory wasn't great. But he taught so patiently that it was hard to forget. Li Ling slowly raised her fingers. The light, which should have been still, seemed disturbed by their breathing, flickering on half of Jin Jingyao's face. He lowered his eyelids, staring at her silently. She felt a bit uneasy again. "Um, could you close your eyes first?" Jin Jingyao flatly retorted, "How can I learn if I don't watch?" Li Ling: "..." So much nonsense, brother. She directly reached out and covered his eyes. His lowered eyelashes trembled lightly in her palm, like a fragile, dying butterfly. Li Ling was startled by the warm, vivid sensation. She always thought he would be very cold. His appearance gave that impression, making people think he was some cold, lifeless existence. But in reality, his face was as gentle and delicate as she remembered, with the normal warmth of a young man. The good news was that Director Jin didn't hide anymore, nor did he scold her. She took this as tacit approval, or perhaps an invitation. Her fingers slowly caressed his nose, his profile, his jaw, and finally his Adam's apple. Li Ling felt she should say something, be it lines, character analysis, or the nonsense she was usually so good at. But it was as if her mouth was sealed with invisible tape, and she didn't even dare to breathe too loudly. She suddenly had a strange, almost blasphemous illusion, as if she were facing a statue that could only be revered. Teaching him was wrong. Touching him was a sin. She didn't notice when the statue's slightly closed eyes opened again. "Is that so," Jin Jingyao asked her in a very low voice. His fingers moved slightly. As if responding to her touch, his cold fingertips moved upward inch by inch. The pads of his fingers seemed to unintentionally, roughly brush against her lips, lingering there repeatedly. The soldier who had crossed the entire English Channel finally crawled out of the icy waters and saw the sunrise over Normandy. - The bathroom door was suddenly pushed open. With a loud "bang." The cleaning tool in the other person's hand fell to the ground. If time could turn back, Xiao Liu would probably warn his ignorant self: Don't go to work, don't go to work, don't go to work. On his first day back at work after recovering from a serious illness, he stood dumbfounded at the door, witnessing a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.