After finishing the scene, the assistant director immediately came over to praise her, "Ms. Li, your line delivery just now was excellent!" Li Ling was a bit puzzled, "Which line?" "The one where you said, 'You're disgusting!' You delivered it perfectly! So powerful!" Li Ling: "…Haha, thank you for the compliment." Perhaps it was because she had infused those four forceful words with a lot of genuine emotion. In fact, Li Ling was still somewhat displeased about the director cutting her scene. Although, rationally speaking, she knew it was his prerogative. Even if he cut all her scenes by the end, she would have to accept it without a word of complaint. But she still felt that it was the best, most emotional performance she had given in a long time. She hadn't been so immersed in a role for a long time. In that moment, she felt she was A-Ling. Unfortunately, the director didn't seem to like it. Li Ling returned to the set. After the camera started rolling, she deliberately stepped on the director's shoulder a few more times, using the excuse of a calf cramp to ask Zhou Jing for a massage. Zhou Jing refused and warned her again not to change the lines arbitrarily. She listened with a series of "uh-huhs" and then stepped even harder in the next take. - The crew vaguely sensed that the relationship between the director and the lead actress had become strained recently. This was mainly reflected in their significant disagreements over the script and the character. Jin Jingyao still hoped that Li Ling could portray A-Ling as more powerless and lifeless. But Li Ling refused. In every confrontation scene between A-Ling and Zhou Jing, she acted with great intensity. She hit him, choked him, rejected his advances, using her teeth and nails as her weapons. On the monitor, the two looked so tense, the atmosphere so charged that the entire set seemed filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder. But to say the actors were settling personal scores would be inaccurate. Li Ling had excellent control and never actually hurt Jin Jingyao. She was simply committed to her version of A-Ling. At first, Jin Jingyao frequently called for retakes. In the end, in this silent tug-of-war, he was the first to concede. After the shoot, he stared at the monitor for a long time. In the close-up, Li Ling's eyes, filled with a mix of love and hate, were so vivid, like a shocking flame, brimming with primal vitality. No amount of cold water could extinguish it. He couldn't help but ponder why Zhou Jing would fall in love with A-Ling, love her enough to hide her in a basement, even though she was a complete burden, and still refuse to let go. Perhaps what he loved was this very moment, this shocking gaze. He opened his notebook and almost unconsciously sketched the shape of someone spreading their arms and dancing. - The next day, the assistant director suddenly approached Li Ling, telling her that she had been given a dance scene, and the crew had hired a dance instructor for her. Li Ling: ? It was somewhat absurd. She was playing a character who had lost a leg in a car accident, and now she was supposed to start learning to dance. She tactfully expressed her doubts to the assistant director, who explained, "A-Ling was a dancer before the car accident." Li Ling: "." "How come I didn't know about this setting?" she said quietly. "It wasn't just made up last night, was it?" The assistant director laughed dryly, "Well, yes… the director thought of it last night." Li Ling: "…" In all her years in the film industry, she had never encountered a director who was so good at tormenting people. The filming schedule was already tight, with a full day of announcements, and now they had suddenly added a dance class for her. Was this a film crew or a sudden death promotion committee? But what could she do? When Director Jin gave an order, a small actress like Li Ling wouldn't dare to disobey. However, once the dance class started, it quickly turned from work into a stress-relieving hobby. She actually enjoyed it. Every time she got frustrated on set, Li Ling would lock herself in the dance studio and sweat it out. The teacher was amazed, saying she had never seen such a dedicated student. Li Ling had a few years of ballet training as a child, mainly forced by her parents, and she didn't enjoy it. But A-Ling was doing modern dance. Modern dance is different from ballet. Ballet emphasizes "open, stretch, straight, and upright," with strict rules for every movement and posture. Modern dance, on the other hand, is a rebellion and transformation of form, encouraging dancers to open their bodies, explore breathing, and find the connection between consciousness, body, and strength. As a child, Li Ling's memories of ballet were only pain and scolding. But she liked modern dance, which had no rules or constraints, like a form of freedom and release. She imagined herself as a tree, a wave. When the sweat flowed, she didn't have to care about anything, just catch the wind and she caught the present. Despite the increasingly tight filming schedule, her basic skills were still there, and with hard work and practice, she improved quickly. After practicing for a while, Li Ling was already quite decent. "Quite decent" was the teacher's fair assessment. Privately, Li Ling had boasted several times to 9787532754335 that she was a dance prodigy. 9787532754335 replied, "Be careful." Li Ling: "Anything else?" 9787532754335 was silent for a moment, then said very seriously, "Drink more hot water." Li Ling said in exasperation, "A qualified fan should be asking their idol for a practice room video at this point, you know what I mean, brother." 9787532754335 wasn't very qualified and silently signed in to her super topic. After a while, someone pushed the door open in the practice room, said nothing, and stood in the shadowy corner. Li Ling thought it was the teacher and, without looking up, called out, "Take a picture for me, the phone password is six ones," and continued dancing. She was so absorbed in her practice that her white T-shirt was soaked, the hem lifted, revealing a slender, toned line. Her skin was as white as the reflective glass curtain wall of a skyscraper on a hot summer afternoon. The afternoon sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, lightly shifting positions, gradually filling every inch of space. The dancing woman clearly hadn't dressed up, barefoot, with a bare face, her hair loosely tied up, wearing the most ordinary clothes, yet the scene was beautiful. A powerful, tension-filled beauty. Li Ling was about to make a prayer gesture when she suddenly saw in the mirror that the sunlight had illuminated the last inch of the room. The tall man standing behind the door, watching her all along, was actually Jin Jingyao. She was so scared that she immediately clasped her hands together and offered incense to him. Jin Jingyao was still holding her phone, his hand steady, and calmly asked what she was dancing. Li Ling walked towards him, "Director, why are you here?" Jin Jingyao: "The teacher said you've made great progress. Where's the progress?" What a beautiful mouth. If it were A-Ling, she would have slapped him by now. Unfortunately, she wasn't. "It's just that seeing the director made me too nervous, so I didn't dance well," Li Ling said with a big smile, "Thank you, Director, you're so kind, even helping me take pictures."She wanted to take back her phone from the other person's hand. With a bit of a vengeful mindset, she deliberately brushed against Jin Jingyao's fingers. His fingers were warm and dry. She, on the other hand, had just finished dancing, drenched in sweat, her whole body radiating heat. Sure enough, the young man took a step back, discreetly avoiding her. Li Ling blinked, knowing full well that he was probably having a cleanliness freak-out, but she deliberately misinterpreted his reaction: "Sorry, Director, I forgot you can't touch people." Jin Jingyao was silent for a moment and then said, "Hmm." "Really, it's been hard on you," Li Ling pretended to be empathetic, but her tone was sarcastic, "It must have been tough shooting with me all this time." Jin Jingyao said, "Yes, it has been tough." The young man looked up, meeting her eyes: "So, do you want to continue your lesson from last time?" Li Ling: "Haha, Director, you really have it tough. I'll go wash..." She stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing. What lesson? Did she mishear, or did Jin Jingyao just say something outrageous? She looked at him in utter shock. Due to the tense relationship between them on set, Teacher Li Ling's private lessons had been on hold for a long time. Besides, she practiced dancing every day, where would she find the time? She thought he had long forgotten about it. Jin Jingyao's tone was calm, but his gaze was direct and focused. The glimmer deep in his eyes flickered, making her face gradually heat up. ...It had nothing to do with him; it must be because she had exercised too much, causing her heart to race, her body temperature to rise, and her breathing to become labored. Li Ling turned around, muttering to herself, "So hot, I'm going to take a shower." Jin Jingyao stood behind her, saying nothing more. But his gaze must have never left her. Otherwise, Li Ling wouldn't have felt her back almost burning up. - Li Ling dawdled in the bathroom for at least half an hour. When she came out, the practice room was empty; Jin Jingyao had long gone. She secretly breathed a sigh of relief, though she didn't know what she was relieved about. Her phone was on the table. Li Ling opened the photo album to check and was shocked. She remembered she had asked him to take a picture of her. Who would have thought that Director Jin had recorded a full half-hour video of her? Even more shocking was that in the entire half-hour video, there wasn't a single good-looking screenshot. Damn six-foot-two. In his incredibly straight male overhead shot, she looked like a dancing hobbit, sometimes gracefully, sometimes jumping around. Seriously, where was the professional photographer, the Palme d'Or-winning director? Was this his level? Li Ling resentfully took a screenshot and sent it to 9787532754335. 9787532754335, with no sense of aesthetics, said, "Looks good." Then emphasized, "Very cute." So this is what cute means, Li Ling thought darkly. 9787532754335 must also think Xiao Liu is very cute. After a while, 9787532754335 sent another message, asking who took the photo. Li Ling replied irritably, "The janitor next door." 9787532754335 sent a question mark. Xiao Liu, who was diligently scrubbing the toilet, suddenly sneezed. - The next day, Li Ling walked into the practice room and found it filled with filming equipment, the camera positions and lighting meticulously arranged. The assistant director said, "The director decided to film your practice sessions too, just in case we need the footage later." Li Ling's expression froze. The assistant director, observing the situation, asked with concern, "What's wrong, Ms. Li? Are you worried that you haven't practiced enough? It's okay, don't be nervous. The teachers all say you're learning very quickly. You should be more confident." Li Ling forced a smile and thanked him. She was actually quite confident, but she felt that with this damn machine running, even if she got tired from practicing, she couldn't roll on the floor and curse the director. It was very annoying. Damn Jin Jingyao, he had taken away her last bit of peace. Meanwhile, the assistant director also didn't quite understand why the director was spending so much more time in front of the monitor. Even when he was so tired that he was constantly using eye drops, he still kept watching. It was the same dance over and over again. Was it really necessary to watch for so long? - A few days later, Li Ling had become very familiar with the dance. Without further delay, she returned to the set. They decided to let her try a run-through first, while the other staff took the opportunity to make final adjustments to the stage lighting and angles. If everything went smoothly, they could finish filming that afternoon. Before going on stage, Li Ling suddenly received a call from her agent, who tearfully said, "A golden opportunity has fallen into our laps. A sponsor wants to give you a phone." Li Ling was stunned. "Really? What's the catch?" "No catch," the agent said, even more moved. "They just said it's the latest model with a high resolution, perfect for taking photos. They want you to post a few selfies on Weibo after you get it." Such a generous sponsor—could it be that she was really about to make it big? Li Ling's heart pounded with excitement as she joyfully said, "Okay." She walked onto the stage. Step by step, she climbed the old wooden stairs, which creaked under her weight, and her silhouette was cast onto the massive curtain. The last time Li Ling stood here was for an audition. Back then, no one believed she could do it, not even herself. But now, all the lights were on her, and all eyes were on her. The music began to flow. The gentle piano notes were like a pure white river, carrying the dancer on stage far away. She was like a swaying boat, a drifting leaf. Daylight flickered, night enveloped her, and she moved her limbs, leaping into the air, with the lights of thousands of homes and the four seasons passing before her eyes. Electric guitar. Drums. More instruments layered together. She crawled, jumped, struggled, every movement filled with power, like a seed breaking through the earth, igniting the blazing fire of time. Suddenly, applause erupted from the audience. The sound interrupted the continuous melody. Several men in suits, like leaders on an inspection, walked gracefully down the aisle from the audience. The man in the center spoke in an exaggerated tone, loudly saying, "Well done! Very well done!" Li Ling wasn't too distracted, but she happened to be doing a low spin. Her gaze quickly swept to the audience, and in a flash of light, she saw his face— Dizziness, surprise, her body momentarily out of control, like a top struck hard and losing its direction. Immediately, she felt a burning pain in her ankle. She had twisted it. Countless needles seemed to pierce her, visible and invisible. Her vision blurred, as if she were being thrown into the sky on a runaway roller coaster. Strangely, in such intense pain, Li Ling's first reaction was still to grit her teeth and finish the dance. But after the final move, she could barely stand, so she simply sat on the floor, hugging her knees. No one else noticed, some even continued to applaud, except for the sound of hurried footsteps on the wooden floor. Thud, thud, thud, in sync with her pain. Jin Jingyao quickly walked over. Li Ling saw his face looking so grim and instinctively felt a bit scared, thinking he was going to say her dancing was terrible and that she had embarrassed him in front of the leaders. But he asked her softly, "Where are you hurt?" His tall figure cast a shadow over her, blocking the glaring stage lights and prying eyes. Li Ling was surprised by his sensitivity, as if his gaze had been glued to her, never leaving for even a moment. She guessed her face must be very pale, with cold sweat trickling down her temples, but she still smiled and said, "It's nothing, maybe I just twisted my ankle." Then she joked, "Does this make me look more like A-Ling now?" Jin Jingyao's face darkened even more. It might have been because his face was backlit, naturally giving off a gloomy and oppressive vibe. "Shut up," he almost growled through gritted teeth. He carried her off the stage directly. They passed through the crowd, and as they did, they walked by a middle-aged man standing below the stage. Producer Mai Hongcheng was also accompanying him. From Jin Jingyao's shoulder, Li Ling briefly caught a glimpse of the man's face. They hadn't seen each other for years, and it was obvious he had aged, though he refused to accept it. So, despite his thinning hair, it was dyed jet black. His face was stiff and smooth, overly injected with Botox, making it almost impossible for him to show any expression, like a hard, dried, waxy skin. Only his eyes were still alive. The way he looked at her was very unfamiliar, mixed with a hint of amazement. He didn't recognize her. Li Ling whispered to Jin Jingyao, "Director, who is that man?" "Don't know, some friend of Mai Hongcheng's who invested a bit of money and insisted on visiting the set," Jin Jingyao said disinterestedly. Li Ling responded with an "Oh": "Isn't he an investor? Director, is that how you treat investors?" Jin Jingyao: "Do I need his little bit of money?" He then frowned and gave her a cold glance: "Doesn't your injury hurt?" Li Ling smiled ingratiatingly: "It hurts, it hurts. I'm just a bit curious why someone we don't know suddenly came to the set." Jin Jingyao said very flatly, "Curious about his thinning hair or the excessive injections?" Li Ling: "..." She looked at him in shock. It was the first time she had seen someone say such cutting words with a straight face. Was this the aura of a director with a family fortune? In that case, Director Jin was indeed quite gentle with her usually. - She was overthinking it. On the way to the town hospital, Director Jin kept scolding her. In a variety of ways, both civilized and polite, without a single curse word, yet so elegantly that it made one feel utterly ashamed. It was terrifying. The main point of his tirade was that he had never seen someone so stupid, who could injure themselves while dancing. Her low intelligence was simply shocking to him. Li Ling objectively and tactfully pointed out that twisting an ankle had nothing to do with intelligence. Jin Jingyao gave her a cold glance: "Say one more word." Li Ling shut up. After a while, Director Jin finally got tired of scolding. He then turned on the radio to scold her and even had the car's voice assistant scold her. Li Ling: "..." Save me. By the time they finally reached the town hospital, she was mentally disoriented, almost heading straight for the ENT department. The doctor on duty saw Jin Jingyao and joked, "Isn't this the guy who last time held a knife to his own neck to force me to discharge him? Why are you back, missed me?" Li Ling was very shocked: "He really held a knife to his own neck?" "Not really," the doctor whispered, "he just wouldn't listen when we told him to rest more while hospitalized, staying up every night writing scripts."There are indeed people in this world who love their work so much. Li Ling couldn't help but worry that Jin Jingyao might disregard her foot injury and put a knife to her throat, forcing her to return to the set immediately. The good news was that he didn't seem to have such plans for the time being. Even though the doctor said she didn't need to be hospitalized and could just rest at home, he still arranged for her to be admitted. Li Ling looked at him with some confusion. "Director, I don't intend to report you to the union." Jin Jingyao: "You pay for the hospital fees yourself." Killing her softly, Li Ling immediately tried to get up from the bed. He snorted lightly, pressing her shoulder down, looking very firm but not using much force, and pushed her back down. "Just sleep." At night, Li Ling slept fitfully. When she woke up, she found Jin Jingyao also asleep by the side of her bed. The hospital was very quiet, with a strong smell of disinfectant. There were only the two of them in the ward. Dim moonlight flowed in through the window behind them, outlining the young man's silhouette with a faint silver edge. His breathing was steady and long. Asleep, he looked a bit younger than when he was awake, his features having a sculptural calmness. Time stretched endlessly in the silent night, with only him like a white tower by the riverbank, an absolutely still presence. However, Li Ling didn't know why his brows were still furrowed, looking as if he wasn't sleeping well. Curious, she reached out her hand, just about to touch his face when Jin Jingyao suddenly opened his eyes. Their eyes met. Her heart skipped a beat, and before she could withdraw her hand, it was already caught. In the glass window, their reflections intertwined. Her fingertips, his palm, his eyes. The streetlights outside shone through the rain and mist like searchlights over the sea, casting a cold yet ambiguous light. Jin Jingyao, as if catching a thief, held her hand not too lightly nor too heavily, accusing her, "You touched my face." Li Ling had rarely encountered such an awkward situation in her life, and being half-awake, she could only stammer, "No, I didn't, really." She tried to pull away, but Jin Jingyao wouldn't let go of her wrist. His eyes lowered, he wrapped her hand with his palm, as if discovering something novel. "Your hand is really small," he said.