Almost, almost." The assistant director looked at her with hope in his eyes and said, "Do you think it's okay?" "Sure." Li Ling replied straightforwardly. Actually, there wasn't such a scene in the original script, which she found quite strange. This was a love story filled with physical contact. When emotions run deep, desire is the most direct expression. Nothing is more honest than the body. She initially thought it was Jin Jingyao's severe cleanliness that made him unwilling to shoot such scenes. But after filming for so long, he must have gotten used to it by now. "Anyway, as long as the director has requests, I can cooperate." Li Ling said. The assistant director breathed a sigh of relief and personally escorted her out of the set. Before the door closed, she vaguely heard several staff members crying with joy, "Great, great, she said yes..." Li Ling: ? So strange. After seeing Li Ling off, the assistant director excitedly called the director. He thought the other party would be very pleased, but unexpectedly, the director coldly said, "Agreed so quickly." Then he hung up the phone. Before the call ended, he vaguely heard the director say to someone beside him, "Again." Assistant director: ? "What does that mean?" he asked the person next to him in confusion, "Would the director be happy if Ms. Li didn't agree?" The other person thought for a moment, "Then should we tell Ms. Li that we won't shoot it after all?" "No way!" The assistant director firmly gripped his phone, "We have to shoot it! We must shoot it!" - In the afternoon, Luo Mingqing used the excuse of shooting a brand advertisement to have his agent ask the crew for leave. The agent looked troubled and said, "The director definitely won't agree. It's written in the contract that actors can't leave the set without permission." Luo Mingqing chuckled, "I'm already in the car. What can he do to me? If he has the guts, let him call the traffic police to stop me." Then he urged the assistant, "Drive faster." The agent wiped his sweat, "Mingqing, you didn't even say a word before leaving..." "If I did, you'd just nag." Moments later, the agent called back, and Luo Mingqing sneered, "So, what did Director Jin say—did he stutter in anger?" The agent said incredulously, "He agreed very readily..." Luo Mingqing: ? That's impossible. He was stunned for a moment, then showed an even more sarcastic smile, "Oh right, he's sick today. Maybe he's become an idiot." He added, "Pretending to be magnanimous, he's probably smashing things in his room right now." Not knowing who liked to smash things all day, the agent felt a bit embarrassed and tried to persuade him, "Actually, I checked, this brand event isn't that important. Why do you have to go? Mingqing, are you just trying to spite the director?" Luo Mingqing's face darkened, "As if he deserves it." He hung up the phone and sneered, "Idiot." - The assistant director hung up the phone and also said, "Idiot." The person next to him glanced at him curiously, "Who are you cursing?" "Heh. No one." The assistant director returned to his usual gentle and honest demeanor, "Are you ready over there?" "Yes, everything's set." That's good. The assistant director smiled at his phone. The cannon fodder villain had left, and clearing the set was no problem. As night fell, the set was already arranged. Only the actors and the cameraman remained on site. Li Ling read the script once more. In the original script, Zhou Jing also suffered from Yang Yuanyuan's bullying. But despite silently enduring it, he never truly bowed to her. Endurance seemed like a form of disguise, which made Yang Yuanyuan even more dissatisfied.Zhou Jing should have been his dog long ago, so why wasn't he kneeling on the ground wagging his tail? He was enduring, but what was he enduring? Yang Yuanyuan wanted to know Zhou Jing's last card. Everyone knew that this small-time actor had no money and was staying in the theater's basement. Someone had previously suggested to Yang Yuanyuan to go to his place, but since the basement was the theater's property, Yang Yuanyuan hesitated for a long time and didn't agree. Until one night, a subordinate caught Zhou Jing spending a full hour in the bathroom before returning, carefully washing away all traces on his body. He secretly followed Zhou Jing back and heard faint voices coming from the basement. But the door was locked, and he couldn't get in. Zhou Jing was always very cautious. He had a secret, and the secret was hidden in the basement. Early the next morning, Yang Yuanyuan led a group of people and broke in. And the newly added bed scene happened the night before the disaster. Logically, this bed scene was quite reasonable. It was the emotional peak for the male and female protagonists. It was Zhou Jing and A Ling's last night in Utopia, a beautiful dream and illusion before the death sentence. Without this scene, Yang Yuanyuan's invasion the next day would seem less powerful. However, to perform such an intimate scene, the actors' states should also be very sweet. But for some reason, until the camera started rolling, Jin Jingyao was not in a good mood. He refused to rehearse with her, and when she tried to discuss the plot with him, he would avoid her directly. He even refused to make eye contact with her. Li Ling didn't quite understand why and worried if the director's health hadn't improved. She took the initiative to ask, "Director, are you feeling unwell?" Jin Jingyao coldly said, "If you don't want to shoot, no one is forcing you." Li Ling: ? Despite his words, he didn't even give her time to explain and immediately had the cameraman start filming. As if afraid she really didn't want to shoot, not allowing her to back out. Li Ling: "..." Fortunately, once filming started, it went more smoothly than expected. Zhou Jing returned to the basement, still silently tending to his wounds in the dark. He couldn't reach the wounds on his back, and after several failed attempts, he only aggravated them. He let out a light "hiss." In the darkness, a voice suddenly said, "Come here." Zhou Jing's movements stiffened, but he still faced away from A Ling and said softly, "Did I disturb you?" A Ling looked at him with disgust, "You're so noisy." "Sorry." He apologized to her, but that was all. He didn't want to accept her help or let her see his wounds. A Ling angrily called him a "coward" and threw a pillow at him. He caught the pillow expressionlessly and gently placed it aside. His fingertips trembled slightly, clearly hurt. A Ling said again, "Give it back to me." Zhou Jing stood still, and A Ling sneered, "You only have this one pillow. If you don't give it back, what will I sleep on?" He obediently picked up the pillow and stood up. Just as he reached the bed, she grabbed his wrist and wouldn't let go. "Give me the medicine," A Ling said. Zhou Jing looked directly into her eyes. His gaze was calm and docile. In the end, he couldn't refuse any of her requests. She was more important than his pride, always had been. He agreed. "Turn around," A Ling ordered him, then scolded him, "Why are you standing so tall? Sit down." He turned his back to her and sat on the edge of the bed. To cooperate with her movements, he even bent his waist very low, like a child. There were no lines in the script, but Li Ling couldn't help but ask, "Who hit you?" The director didn't call cut and followed her line, "Someone unimportant.""Why don't you fight back?" He avoided the question and instead asked her softly, "Do you care about me?" Li Ling paused for a moment, then coldly said, "I want you dead." But her actions became even gentler. The remaining water droplets trickled down the young man's back, highlighting the abrasions on his elbows and the large bruises on his back, which appeared like strange tattoos under the moonlight. The faint light filtered through the dusty bed frame, illuminating his sweat-soaked back. Though he was thin, he had a thin layer of muscle clinging to his frame. The process of applying the ointment didn't take long. But for some reason, both of them ended up drenched in sweat. Whenever she touched him, he would react, moving slightly in a way that was hard to notice. His fingers pressed into the bedsheet, clenching and unclenching. It was unclear whether it was due to pain or something else. In the frame, her fingers slowly caressed the young man's back. Like a beam of moonlight, slowly flowing over a stretch of white mountains. The shiny ointment adhered to his skin, tracing the contours of his masculine physique along the ridges of his spine. His bare upper body muscles were slightly flushed from the blood flow. He seemed more vulnerable than usual, easier to capture, yet also exuding a restrained aggression. After applying the ointment, he softly thanked her and intended to sleep on the sofa. But she grabbed the corner of his shirt and said, "Come up." His Adam's apple bobbed, and his voice became more restrained, with a hint of hoarseness, "It's too cramped." She sneered, "Ungrateful." She threw the ointment at his face and turned her back to him. She heard footsteps. A slight rustling. Zhou was behind her, putting the ointment back in the cabinet. The sound grew fainter and fainter. A slight hatred flashed in her eyes: he still refused. Even after she had said so much, he still wanted to reject her. He made her feel so cheap. She wanted to kill him. At that moment, amidst the faint sound of breathing, the mattress gently sank. Because of gravity, because of the weight of an adult man. A Ling's expression froze for a moment. It was as if her heart also sank, stopped beating, and turned into a heavy lump of lead. After the movie was released, many people were fascinated by the change in Li Ling's expression at that moment: from intense hatred to an incredible, heart-stopping feeling. She didn't make any exaggerated expressions, yet she captured the change so precisely and delicately. Such a shocking moment of love. But in retrospect, Li Ling wasn't sure if she was acting or if it was real. Her heartbeat did stop for a moment. Because they were so close. His breath enveloped her, overwhelming her. The bed was too narrow. He didn't want to touch her, but it was impossible. Their elbows and legs were lightly touching. Heat seeped through the dry sheets. After a moment, she reached out and slowly placed her hand on his leg. He grabbed her, his voice even lower and hoarser, "Don't move." A Ling turned her face and suddenly smiled at him. She rarely smiled. Even when she did, it was mostly a malicious, mocking fake smile. But at this moment, the woman smiled beautifully and serenely. Like an unspeakable fate, like a wisp of white sand in the deep night, about to slip through his fingers. She said, "I just want to be a woman one more time." - It's hard to say who started first. He lifted her onto him, slowly touching her hair, caressing her cheek, and rubbing her lips. He was watching her. Watching was a ritual. She was the sacrifice, and also his deity. Fire was the signal. There was fire in his eyes. Sacred and forbidden.Tongues of fire licked her face, it was hot, she felt like a piece of wax, melting onto him, causing him pain as well. The hem of her dress brushed against him. The nightgown was thin, and the skin beneath it was smooth and white, her calves like the silk of the night. They had filmed a bathroom scene before, he had held these legs. But now, everything was new. He had forgotten the feelings he once had. There was only now. This strange, aching, shivering moment. He pushed her down and kissed the scar on her calf. She stared at him, a faint panic flashing in her eyes, then suddenly started screaming, kicking him hard with her other leg. "Don't touch me," she said, "Get away!" He was unmoved, like a leopard pouncing on a frail gazelle. His kisses were heavy, as if trying to leave bite marks. Her hand fumbled towards the bedside table, trying to grab something to hit him with. But in her panic, she accidentally turned on the bedside lamp. The dim orange light faintly illuminated their faces. He was lying on top of her, his shadow cast on the wall, like a giant monster, flickering, ready to peel off the wall at any moment. He lifted his head. Sweat slid down his temple. The flickering light danced across his face, like a living thing, like a surprised, rapid breath. He couldn't hide the infatuation in his eyes. He was infatuated with her body, her flawed, incomplete body. But his love was also something flawed and incomplete. His gaze was so empty, so dazed, as if floating on something. Everything was driven by instinct. He had no soul left, his soul was on her. He was controlled by her. For a moment, Li Ling distractedly thought: Is this acting too, is his acting this good? So focused, so lost in himself. His gaze was like a string of a violin, playing a dark, morbid melody, making her dizzy. She grabbed his hair, commanding him to get up and kiss her. He leaned in, offering his lips, but she pushed him away again. He still wanted to kiss her. She pressed down on his hair, keeping him at a distance. Sweat slid down his temple and nose, like a silent tsunami. He still wanted to, but he was obedient. Li Ling smiled. She couldn't tell if the one smiling was A Ling or herself, maybe it was both. The air trembled, the sea water wildly crashing against the shore, eager to erode, eager to engulf. She leaned forward slightly, his gaze clung to her like a magnet. She bit his Adam's apple with her teeth.