Jin Jingyao and Luo Mingqing might really have a grudge against each other. He didn't even ask why the other party sent these things. He just called with a dark face and had someone come to deal with the trash. The luxurious gift package finally found its cozy home—a pitch-black garbage truck. Li Ling happily recorded the destruction video, returned to her room, stood up from her wheelchair, and tried to practice walking. In fact, she could stand up before, but it still hurt a little. To be safe, the director forced her to continue using the wheelchair. But today, while filming on set, she deeply felt that the wheelchair was still quite inconvenient. She tried walking for a while and felt no pain at all. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Li Ling went to open it. Jin Jingyao said, "Why are you standing up?" Li Ling repeatedly emphasized to him that she was completely recovered. He reluctantly agreed and asked her to come to his room. Li Ling responded with an "Oh" and walked out without hesitation. Just as she reached the doorway, she was blocked by his body. Backlit, the young man's body was tall like a wall. He lowered his head, his gaze obscure beneath his glasses, and asked her in a low voice, "You trust me enough to come in just like that?" Li Ling: ? What else? "...Then I'll leave?" As Li Ling turned to leave, his hand pressed against the door again. Jin Jingyao pursed his lips, "Come in." Li Ling: "Okay, director." She was already used to his capricious attitude. This level of inconsistency was nothing; she couldn't even be bothered to scold him. However, Li Ling was still very suspicious. Did he really just move in today? Otherwise, how could the room be so tidy, with not even a wrinkle on the bed? A suitcase was placed beside him, not even opened. Only the desk was messy, with a pile of manuscript paper, a printer, a coffee cup, and a laptop. Why move for no reason? She wondered if the walls were soundproof. She wouldn't dare to curse the director too loudly in her room in the future. Jin Jingyao, unaware of Li Ling's inner regrets, first ordered her to wash her hands, then handed her the newly printed manuscript paper, and succinctly said, "Start reading from the third line." Li Ling: "Okay, director." Sure enough, he had just revised the script and wanted her to try the new lines. She knew it. What else could it be? Workaholic. She looked down, "..." "Director, what's the difference between this and the previous lines?" Li Ling asked, puzzled. Jin Jingyao looked at her as if she were an idiot, "I changed the word order." Wow, such a great change. Thinking this, Li Ling still cooperated and read the lines once. Jin Jingyao thought for a moment, printed a new script page for her, "Try again." He changed the word order back and deleted "I" and the ending particle. Li Ling: "..." Really great. This cycle repeated at least ten times. Li Ling felt tired, exhausted, unable to love, and wanted to curse the director again. She held back and looked up, only to see him looking at her seriously, "Which line do you think is more suitable?" Li Ling said reservedly, "I think there's no difference." Jin Jingyao: "Read it twenty more times." Li Ling: "..." He ignored her and continued typing. Because he was staring intently at the screen, a hint of dark light flashed in his pupils. A very strange look. Rather than focused, it was more like... an almost empty obsession. Li Ling was stunned for a moment, her gaze sweeping around the room, from the empty coffee cup to the large bloodstains still on his face. She suddenly felt she had discovered something. Because he hadn't removed his makeup, the young man, even with his cold gaze, exuded a captivating madness. The wound on the lower half of his face was so vivid, blood-soaked and flesh-torn. He still looked fierce, but the glasses perched on his nose added a touch of sternness. ...Maybe he hadn't come out of character at all. Li Ling asked him, "Director, have you been revising the script ever since you got back from the shoot?" Jin Jingyao glanced at her without much expression. "Have you eaten?" she continued to ask cautiously. Jin Jingyao asked in a strange tone, "Are you flirting?" Li Ling: ? "I'm concerned about you. Please answer the question directly," she said seriously. Reluctantly, he replied, "I had coffee." Li Ling sighed, "That's not good. Your health is the foundation of everything. Director, you need to eat well and rest properly to write the script." Jin Jingyao: . It was shocking that someone could use their eyes to form a period. Li Ling: "Uh, Director, I'm serious. Why don't you eat first and then continue revising? I'll go get a boxed meal..." Jin Jingyao: . Impervious to persuasion, huh. She laughed in exasperation, crossed her arms, and sat to the side. "Fine, I'll shut up. You go ahead and revise." She then suggested heartlessly, "Revise more at once, Director. Don't get stuck on a single line." Jin Jingyao, with a stern face, snatched the script pages from her hand, threw them into the shredder, and reopened his laptop. Li Ling patiently waited for five minutes. He didn't write a single word. Li Ling waited another five minutes. He typed a few scattered words and then started furiously hitting the delete key. Li Ling: "Pfft." She became more convinced of her thoughts. Jin Jingyao was a director, not a professional actor. He could act, but that didn't mean he had enough experience. After all, sitting in front of the monitor, overseeing the set, and actually stepping into the role were completely different experiences. This film was so emotionally draining, like a bottomless black hole. Li Ling herself often felt disoriented, as if she was about to be swallowed up. What about him? Director Jin always seemed so calm and expressionless, sitting in front of the monitor as soon as the scene was shot. Was he truly engrossed in his work, or was he also unable to come out of character? It turned out he wasn't much better off than she was. Jin Jingyao stared at her silently and said after a moment, "If you laugh again, get out." Li Ling actually stood up. As the actress turned around, the young man's gaze darkened, his expression becoming even more unpleasant, almost hurt. But soon, under the lights, his eyes returned to their indifferent apathy. He continued typing on the keyboard, almost obsessively deleting and rewriting the same sentence. He heard the sound of running water, and in his peripheral vision, Li Ling's figure reappeared. She hadn't left and was standing by the table again. Why did she come back? He was busy and didn't plan to spare her a glance, not even bothering to ask why she hadn't left. But for some reason, the actress still recklessly leaned towards him. Her hand gently touched his face, removing the glasses from Jin Jingyao's nose. It felt as if something heavy—mask, barrier, disguise—was peeled away from his face. The overhead light was almost blinding, quickly covered by her shadow. Her breath brushed past, like the faint scent of night-blooming jasmine. He felt as if he were in a mirror, his whole body immobilized, unable to move easily, instinctively closing his eyes. He didn't know what he was expecting. Expectations completely unmet. The empty lips gave rise to a strange sense of loss. His heart gave a heavy thump. Jin Jingyao opened his eyes unnaturally and saw Li Ling standing in front of him, holding a clean towel, gently wiping away the remnants of makeup from his face. Her movements were meticulous, her demeanor pure, without a trace of ulterior motive. Only the towel was damp and warm, like a cat's tongue, eagerly licking his chin and cheeks. He thought he must be going mad. They weren't filming a scene; how could she possibly kiss him? - Li Ling didn't know why, but even though she was just kindly helping the director wipe his face, the atmosphere had become rather strange. Director Jin sat very straight, like a bow strung to its tightest. He kept staring at her, his gaze growing jagged, his demeanor even more assertive and dangerous than usual. The gray-white light cast deep shadows on one side of his face. He was too thin, his jawline too sharp. She cleaned his cheeks, as if she were polishing a sculpture. His skin returned to its original pallor, like marble repeatedly rubbed, white to the point of being startling. The towel followed the angle of his jaw, touching the upper part of his neck. She tried her best to act nonchalant, but the air was clearly thick with an unmelting sweetness, sticking wetly to her fingers. His Adam's apple seemed to move. ...She wanted to touch it. Jin Jingyao snatched the towel from her hand: "I'll do it myself." When their fingertips touched, a faint static electricity sparked. His Adam's apple moved again. Li Ling actually felt a bit regretful, why didn't she touch it? The next second, she woke up as if from a dream, and the thought startled her. She must be crazy; this was the director. Li Ling stood up with exaggerated movements, her mind like a bell being struck, and said loudly, "Alright, Director, I'll have someone bring you a boxed meal." Usually, if she spoke this loudly, Jin Jingyao would mock her for being impolite. But this time, he remained strangely silent. Not long after, there was a knock on the door. Li Ling said, "The boxed meal arrived so quickly," and rushed to open the door. She was stunned for a moment. Standing outside was Luo Mingqing. His hands were empty, clearly not here to deliver food. His expression wasn't surprised; he even smiled at her: "Did I knock on the wrong door? Isn't this the director's room?" Li Ling was already cursing in her mind, but she maintained a calm facade: "Yes, you remembered wrong. This is my room." "Then who is that behind you?" Li Ling turned around, only to see, to her dismay, Director Jin standing up and walking towards her. "..." Luo Mingqing looked leisurely, a smile on his lips, his gaze like a periscope, scanning her from head to toe. Li Ling also gave Luo Mingqing a fake smile: "Is there someone behind me? You must be mistaken." He raised an eyebrow: "Sister, do you think I'm..." "Book an appointment with an ophthalmologist, Mr. Luo, or a psychiatrist would do." Before he could finish, she slammed the door shut with a "bang." Still smiling, very noble, very cold. But when she turned back to Jin Jingyao, Li Ling felt like she was falling apart. "What should we do, Director?" She paced anxiously, "Why did he see us? Will there be trouble? Should I climb back out the window?" Jin Jingyao seemed indifferent: "If you're not afraid of falling to your death." Li Ling made up her mind, full of righteous resolve: "I'm not afraid! I have insurance!" She quickly walked to the window, hands on the sill, in a pose of heroic sacrifice. Jin Jingyao laughed in exasperation: "If you want to die, don't do it here." He forcefully closed the window from behind her. "Smack." It seemed to be raining again. Raindrops on the window splashed onto Li Ling's cheek, a cold sensation. They stood very close. His breath carried the scent of rain. Her back pressed against his warm chest, almost able to feel the shape of his muscles. Li Ling's heart skipped a beat, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Fortunately, the sense of danger lasted only a moment. Jin, the director who disliked physical contact, quickly stepped away from her, creating a safe distance. He coldly questioned her, "You're not afraid of falling to your death, so what are you afraid of?" Li Ling thought, what was she afraid of, wasn't it obvious? She said with a heavy tone, "Public opinion is terrifying, public opinion is terrifying!" Jin Jingyao: "Is it embarrassing to have rumors with me?" Li Ling: ?