Since leaving the film crew, Luo Mingqing had been in a foul mood. His eyelids kept twitching, and his temples were constantly throbbing. He was preoccupied. Shooting a magazine ad, which used to be second nature to him, ended up taking much longer than expected. The brand didn't dare offend him, so they changed the theme of the shoot to accommodate him and even replaced the reporter with a young, attractive host. Not long after the interview began, he felt the urge to smoke and went to the stairwell. The host followed him out, hesitantly holding an autograph book, saying her sister was a fan and asking if he could sign it. Anyone with eyes could see that the so-called sister was just an excuse. He said nothing and continued smoking. The smoke rings drifted onto her face. The hallway lights dimmed. In the mist, her outline faded, and her eyes resembled someone else's. The host opened her mouth, wanting to speak to him. He wanted her to shut up, so he simply lowered his head and kissed her. She was very surprised, her eyes wide open, her shoulders tensed, staring at him blankly. Their shadows trembled and flickered on the wall. White smoke rippled out in circles. Her lips were soft and moist. He bit her ear and whispered, "Close your eyes." Her wide-eyed look was foolish and no longer resembled her. The cigarette was finished, and the interview resumed. The host, who had already submitted the interview outline, suddenly asked a question that wasn't on it. "Do you have someone you like right now?" Her cheeks were very red, and she asked him with some anticipation. The studio suddenly became very quiet. The photographer stopped pressing the shutter, and his assistant looked displeased, ready to step in and interrupt. Luo Mingqing lazily waved his hand and said coldly, "No." The girl's eyes dimmed. She looked even less like her. He found it utterly uninteresting but showed a nearly malicious smile. After the interview, Luo Mingqing told his assistant, "Go straight back to the set." The assistant looked at him in surprise, "Felix's new nightclub is opening tonight. Weren't you planning to attend?" "Not going," he said. "It's boring." The assistant was somewhat shocked. For a big star who partied every night, it was surprising to hear him say "boring." Luo Mingqing asked again, "What's the earliest we can get back?" The assistant said, "If we take the earliest flight, we can arrive tonight. But it will be a bit rushed and might be tiring." Luo Mingqing: "A little rush is fine." The assistant responded with an "oh," feeling even more that his boss was acting strange. It was him who had been busy running away from the set, and now it was him who was in a hurry to get back. The poor assistants had to endure the long journey, switching from planes to trains, without even getting first-class tickets. Luo Mingqing reminded him again, "Remember to buy me a bouquet of flowers." The assistant nodded, "Same as before, roses?" Luo Mingqing said with a look of disgust, "What are you talking about? She's different from those people." "Ah? Then..." "Lilies." He wanted to give her lilies. Because in his heart, she was always pure and flawless. He couldn't wait to see her accept his flowers, his pure love. - The moment her teeth sank in, Li Ling was surprised to realize that she had wanted to do this for a long time. She wanted to control his breath. Wanted his heartbeat to stop. In her sight, the pale neck, with its faint blue veins, stood out. Her lips were full, but her front teeth were even. She gently ground that small, hard bone, like Eve eating the sinful apple of Eden. Just a small bite, and the world would be turned upside down. She felt his breath halt, a muffled sound emanating from his throat. Beneath the surface calm, magma was about to erupt. The sunset collapsed. Gray-white lava flooded the sleeping garden. A surge of emotion engulfed him. She bit him. The shape of her lips became his tattoo. He wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to take her into his mouth, to carve her name into his neck. He wasn't allowed to kiss her lips, so he rubbed his nose against her neck and collarbone. His fingers measured her neck inch by inch. Her skin was hot, as if coated with glue. Li. Ling. His tongue curled, lightly touching her jaw, then bumping into her teeth. Completing her name. Such an ambiguous syllable. Like a cloud. Twilight haze, an elusive wind chime. Cold moonlight shone on her fair skin. The land of his dreams, his untouchable territory. The moon turned into an eye, the whole world became his eyes. He was drowned in the sound of rapid breathing, a sharp ringing in his ears. Devour her. Devour her. The restless blood like a diving plane, crashing down, destroying her, possessing her. Li Ling. Li Ling. Li Ling. Then, a dangerous thought suddenly pressed against his temple like a gun. The name he held in his mouth was wrong. It was blasphemy. He shuddered slightly, stopping his actions, his whole body turning cold. He looked down at her. In the moonlight, her skin flushed, her neck covered in a thin layer of sweat, like a pink beach in a beautiful dream. The strap of her nightgown slipped off. Her rounded shoulder, white as a snowy mountain, the sunset melting at the peak, flowing back into the sea. Light like fish scales leapt up, then was swallowed by the ripples. He shouldn't look. Even imagining was a sin. Jin Jingyao expressionlessly covered her body with a sheet. "Sorry," he said softly, "I'll delete this scene." - Li Ling felt very awkward. It was her first time encountering such a situation. After filming a bed scene with someone, the other party apologized to her, seriously reflected on it, and immediately took her to watch the monitor. Honestly, she didn't really want to watch it either. But Director Jin was very professional, even his attitude seemed rather cold, almost like giving orders. Li Ling felt she couldn't lose, so she braced herself and went to review the footage with him. However, she subtly felt that Director Jin might not have completely gotten out of character. Before filming, he didn't even want to talk to her. Now, as she went to watch the monitor, he actively let her sit in the director's chair. She was wearing the camisole nightgown from the shoot, and he draped a coat over her. Was he trying to please her? Li Ling said, "Thank you, Director," and when she noticed the coat was about to slip off, she reached out to pull it up. Unexpectedly, he was behind her, trying to do the same thing. Their fingers touched, and he immediately pulled away. As if he didn't dare to touch her. Wasn't he the one who had just filmed the scene with her? A moment later, Jin Jingyao poured her a glass of water and silently placed it on the table. With the previous experience, Li Ling didn't dare to drink it directly. To her surprise, it wasn't boiling water for scalding pork, but warm water suitable for human consumption. The child had really grown up, become sensible, and was so considerate. When the monitor turned on, Li Ling was still a bit nervous, holding the cup with both hands, her heart racing. To her surprise, the scene wasn't as chaotic and passionate as she had imagined. The real set was so humid and chaotic, like a summer night, impenetrable. But in the lens, everything looked clean and beautiful. Even distant. Most of the shots were medium and long shots. In the dim night, shadows gradually approached and overlapped. Reality and reflection coexisted in one space, illusion overshadowing reality. The screen resembled a kaleidoscope, separated by the fish tank, the deep blue ripples, and the lush bouquet of goldfish. The camera peeked through the narrow door crack, capturing the reflection in the mirror, the faint and elusive reflection on the glass window. No matter what, there was always a layer of obstruction. Dappled shadows, soft window screens, dark blue water ripples. It was as if it was done deliberately, telling you: Do not approach, do not look. Even if you want to see, you cannot see. The people in the room were engaged in secretive activities. This moment belonged only to them. It was an illusory scene of flowers in the mirror and the moon in the water. Li Ling watched all the footage. Jin Jingyao seemed to respect her opinion and politely asked her, "Is the scale acceptable?" Li Ling looked up, somewhat puzzled, "Director, is there any scale at all?" She really didn't think there was anything. Even the shot he said he wanted to delete just now didn't actually reveal anything, not even a wardrobe malfunction. She didn't understand why he was so nervous, as if facing a formidable enemy. Jin Jingyao's face darkened, his expression not looking good as he said, "How much more do you want?" He added, "I intend to release this." Li Ling suddenly understood, it was meant for release. She gave him a thumbs up, praising him for his good sense of censorship. For some reason, when she said "well shot," he wasn't very happy either. He stopped looking at her and kept staring at the monitor. "Let's shoot another close-up," Jin Jingyao said, "and then continue." "...I will kiss you." When he said this, he didn't look into her eyes, and his voice was very low. So low it was like a preview of a horror movie in the dead of night. Li Ling indeed felt a lot of pressure, nervously covering her lips, "Director, the wound from your bite last time took several days to heal." He wanted to ask her, is this the reason you just rejected me? But it was impossible to ask. In this scene, there was no you and me, only A Ling and Zhou Jing. He kept a straight face, still not looking at her, his voice even lower, "Got it." - As soon as the camera started rolling, he really was going to kiss her. Two cold fingers lifted her chin. Li Ling could no longer dodge or push him away. Trapped between his arms, she was forced to look up. In his eyes, there was a cold flame that shouldn't exist. Her heart tightened, the calm she had just found was gone again. The camera was far away, but he was very close. No matter what happened off-screen, at this moment, the pressure he gave her was real. Jin Jingyao blinked, and the cold flame flickered. He lowered his head and lightly bit her lip. It didn't hurt, but Li Ling instinctively glared at him, questioning him with her eyes about breaking his word. He smiled slightly, suddenly seizing the opportunity, his tongue prying open her teeth, stirring her breath. Her eyes widened in surprise—so surprised that her heartbeat lost its rhythm. She remembered the last time they shot a kissing scene, how inexperienced he was. Just pressing against her lips had left him flustered and at a loss. Now he had improved so quickly, completely becoming a different person. She didn't know if this counted as breaking character, but he didn't call cut. Soon she couldn't be distracted, completely drawn in by him. He kissed her fiercely, plundering her breath, passionately as if he wanted to devour her. But Li Ling knew, this was still acting. He only looked forceful; most of the time, he was still catering to the camera, grinding her lips, creating an illusion of infatuation. They both knew exactly where the camera was. His breath was clean, his hands didn't touch where they shouldn't. The heat in his palms wasn't annoying. Whenever she showed signs of retreating, he would silently soothe her. The most invasive thing, instead, was his gaze.In those eyes, there seemed to be a ghostly blue spark, cold yet boiling. The non-lethal chill slowly drained the oxygen from her body. Her vision spun, the light and shadows outside the window forming a massive cross that spanned their bodies. The bedsheet was a snow-white wall, the shadows were intricate murals, and she became his organ, playing a sacred melody. He continuously caressed her damaged leg. He gazed at it, kissed it. He wouldn't allow her to hide this leg. It was his altar. In the half-light, half-shadow, he seemed to sink into the sea, his face appearing and disappearing. She bent down, and her shadow concealed him. She lifted her head, and his eyes lit up again because of her. He kept looking at her. She asked him, "Am I beautiful?" "Beautiful." "Am I beautiful?" "Beautiful." Her voice was initially timid, cautious, wavering. Under his gaze, it became firm, joyful. "How beautiful?" He kissed her passionately, and in the moment their lips and tongues parted, he whispered to her, "I love you." These were not lines from the script; it was an improvisation from some part of him. But its timing was perfect. She didn't understand why, upon hearing those three words, she wanted to cry. Perhaps because he sounded so sincere. Perhaps they were both too immersed in their roles. Or maybe the light was just too dazzling, forcing her to shed tears. They kept filming until dawn, the sun rising. In their intermittent kisses, their noses touched, and between their lips and tongues, they held the same red sun, like a moist spider lily blooming. The world became bright. The golden dome of the church gleamed, and in his ecstasy, he received revelation and divine glory. A-Ling told him she wanted to be a woman once more. She didn't need him to say he loved her. Love was a hypocritical excuse. She just wanted to use an affair to prove she was still alive. She wanted to be seen, to be touched, even if it meant being used, it was a form of value. But to Zhou Jing, she was never just a woman. He didn't care about her imperfections; her imperfections were his completeness. He didn't want to use her; he just wanted to keep her. She was a unique, priceless treasure. She was his sunrise. His sun shower. His entire world.