Luo Mingqing is really damned. Li Ling closed the webpage about the boy with mixed feelings and suddenly received a call from her agent. The agent complained a bit, "The filming has been going on for so long, and there's not even a bit of news. How have you been lately? Are you okay?" Li Ling was stunned for a moment before she said, "Has it been a long time?" It seemed she had lost track of time in the mountains. "Too long," the agent said. "Didn't you notice that the time on your contract has long expired?" "Uh, I didn't really pay attention..." "The movie should be almost finished, right? What are your plans next?" For some reason, Li Ling felt a bit resistant to this answer. She said, "Is it almost finished? I don't know, no one has told me." The agent said confidently, "It should be soon." The closet door suddenly opened again. The light was blinding, fresh air rushed in, and Jin Jingyao looked down at her, "Aren't you coming out? Everyone's looking for you." His tone was very natural, even justified. This person might have amnesia, not remembering at all that he was the one who closed the door just now. Li Ling looked at him, wanting to say something but stopping. Seeing the phone by her ear, Jin Jingyao suddenly said in a strange tone, "Am I disturbing you?" Li Ling: ? She guessed he was about to close the door again, so she quickly pressed against it, stopping his malicious act in time. In her haste, she accidentally grabbed his hand. Their fingers intertwined, like warm red threads, and both of them were stunned for a moment. Jin Jingyao stared at her hand for a while. He could have quickly pulled his hand back, but he didn't. Instead, as if sealed, he asked in a low voice, "What are you doing?" Li Ling said, "Director, is our movie almost finished?" The agent screamed on the other end of the phone, "Damn!! Don't ask so directly, bro!! The director will misunderstand!!!" The director indeed misunderstood. With a "snap," he flung her hand away. "What, are you very busy afterward, eager to film with someone else?" he said coldly. The agent nervously said, "Quick, quick, quick, don't upset the director. Blame it all on me." Li Ling then said, "My agent just looked at the contract and said it's been expired for a long time." Agent: "Bro, you're selling me out too thoroughly. Can't you be a bit more tactful... Did you just take a truth serum..." Li Ling looked at Jin Jingyao with an innocent face. Director Jin called over the assistant director and asked flatly, "Has her contract expired?" The assistant director, sweating, nodded, "It seems it has indeed expired." The young director fell silent. The atmosphere was a bit tense. Li Ling, thinking she understood his thoughts, immediately corrected, "That's a grammatical error. 'Seems' and 'indeed' shouldn't appear in the same sentence." "You're right, Teacher Li!" The assistant director suddenly realized. Agent: "...Are you sick?" Jin Jingyao glanced coldly at Li Ling, as if he also thought she was sick, and said to the assistant director, "What's her daily rate? Pay her for the overtime." The agent was ecstatic, "2.08 million!" Li Ling hesitated, "No need." Agent: "Huh? Have you gone stupid from filming?" The assistant director also looked at her with a pained expression. Li Ling: "..." How to say this, if it were before today, she would have gladly accepted it. But just now, Luo Mingqing had told her that Jin Jingyao was so strapped for cash while filming this movie that he even paid out of his own pocket. The only potential target, the naive and wealthy Mr. Chen, had also been scared off by her. This gave her a sudden sense of responsibility as the leading lady. Jin Jingyao didn't seem to appreciate her sense of responsibility and even sneered, "So, you want to leave today?" Li Ling: ? "No, Director, how could I?" She looked at him, puzzled. Her agent was already screaming on the other end of the phone, "Holy crap, the money's in!!!" Li Ling couldn't believe it, "Ah, Director, you really paid?" Jin Jingyao looked at her coldly, exuding the arrogance of a celestial being. Li Ling didn't know what to say. Actually, the contract stated that if Party A needed to extend the shooting period, Party B should understand and cooperate. He didn't have to pay her at all. In this experience of extreme contrasts, she felt she understood the director a bit more. He seemed to never learn to say nice things but silently did things that were very touching. Because he never spoke, only acted, it even gave the illusion that he didn't expect anything in return. Why was he so good to her? He was a big director, she was a small actress, who was really begging whom to shoot the film? There was no need at all. Thinking this, Li Ling felt a bit agitated. She hung up the phone and asked him, "How much longer do we need to shoot our movie?" Actually, Li Ling wanted to express that it didn't matter if it took a bit longer. But the director might have misunderstood her again. He pursed his lips and said coldly, "At most two weeks." He added, "It won't delay your next shoot." Li Ling said helplessly, "Director, I don't have any other shoots." Jin Jingyao described her as if she were a superstar busier than Luo Mingqing. But the reality was, she had nothing, her career was dim, and before the shoot started, her only upcoming drama had been forcibly taken down. "This is my only film," she emphasized to him, "You can shoot as long as you want, even until next year." Jin Jingyao: "Oh." His tone was cold, once again emphasizing that he was very punctual and would not exceed two weeks. But his expression seemed a bit better than before. He bent down, pulled Li Ling out of the cabinet, and very seriously dusted off her shoulders. Then he inexplicably blamed her, saying it was because she had been hiding in the cabinet for so long that they hadn't started on schedule. Li Ling: ? - Finally, the camera started rolling. Li Ling lay on the bed, the white sheets slipping from her fingertips like water. Before long, a young man's body pressed down on her. The water lost its shape, turning into a massive whirlpool. Jin Jingyao hugged her from behind. "Is it okay if I hold you like this?" he asked softly, sounding more polite than before the shoot. But in reality, he didn't give her much choice. His upper body was bare, without clothes, but his body temperature wasn't too high, probably because he had just taken a shower before the shoot. He smelled clean, like a shrub covered in dew. Li Ling, with her back to him, was pressed tightly against his chest, making it somewhat hard to breathe. She closed her eyes and then opened them again. This was the day after A-Ling and Zhou Jing had ended a long affair, falling asleep in each other's arms at sunrise. The room was still very dim and quiet. The curtains were thick, and the sunlight squeezed through the gaps like a faint breath. A weak beam of light quietly shone on the white sheets, illuminating two clasped hands. She struggled slightly, and the person behind her noticed, asking, "Are you awake?" His voice was low and husky, as intimate as a breath on her neck. She was too embarrassed to show her face, burying it under the pillow, and let out a low "hmm." Zhou Jing immediately sat up halfway and reached out to lift her skirt. She was startled and was about to say, "What are you doing!" But she realized it was a false alarm; he had no other intentions, just checking the wound on her leg. A trace of emotion flickered in her eyes, but her tone remained cold: "Don't touch it, it won't feel anything even if you do." As soon as she finished speaking, Zhou Jing lowered his head and kissed the large scar. She frowned, a bit embarrassed and annoyed: "You..." The young man raised his head, smiled at her, and said gently, "As long as it doesn't hurt, I always worry about pressing on it." "I changed your clothes." "Do you want to sleep a bit more?" "Are you hungry?" "Or should I carry you to take a bath first?" He was so clumsy, as if reporting to her. He asked her so many questions in one breath but didn't give her a chance to answer. He had always been so silent, but now he had so much to say. Even his smile looked unfamiliar. The room was still dark, but his eyes were so bright it made her heart race. Never had there been a moment when Li Ling realized so clearly that Jin Jingyao was indeed still very young. Because he was young, he could smile so unguardedly, radiantly. It was as if he had caught a contagious disease called happiness, the virus spreading wildly, turning him into a jar of boiling honey, sweet to the point of cloying. Li Ling felt she was infected too, falling ill in an instant. A faint sweet scent lingered at the tip of her nose. He picked her up, her body suspended, arms around his neck. Golden, sticky honey flowed between their locked gazes. He lowered his head, looking deeply at her, as if also smelling her scent. This action wasn't in the script. But if he kissed her now, she probably wouldn't refuse. "Bang bang bang!" Suddenly, there was a fierce knocking on the door upstairs. Both of them were startled. Jin Jingyao still looked at her persistently, but Li Ling had already averted her gaze unnaturally. Out of character, she realized how sticky, hot, and heart-pounding his gaze was. She tried to clear her head and deliberately said, "Director, did you knock too early?" Jin Jingyao calmly said, "Tell him to get lost." "He" referred to Luo Mingqing. Luo Mingqing did knock too early. He did it on purpose, unable to bear the sight of the two of them holding each other for so long. But he didn't expect that because of his interference, the scene had to be reshot from the beginning. The male and female leads returned to the bed. Jin Jingyao's arm wrapped around Li Ling, like a wet lunatic fishing the moon out of the pond. He climbed up again and kissed her calf. Luo Mingqing was on the verge of collapse. How many more times did they have to embrace? He really wanted to kill Jin Jingyao. - Starting over, Jin Jingyao picked Li Ling up again, his breathing slightly heavy, his gaze lingering at the corner of her lips. She was entangled in his breath, deeply trapped in a gentle, moist fog. Her heartbeat grew heavier, as if waiting for a starting gun. But in the end, he didn't kiss her. He just lowered his head and touched her forehead with his lips, very carefully and reverently. Li Ling lowered her gaze, unable to tell if she felt relieved or regretful at that moment. He held her, walking down from the bed, through the messy, cramped living room. The light was dim like the sea at dusk. Everything was peaceful, though chaotic, it was warm enough. On the sofa was the second-hand pillow he had bought for her, and the old movie on the TV was only halfway through. The floor was covered with a thick carpet, and the legs of the table and chairs were worn smooth. After taking a bath, they would have breakfast together. He gently stroked her back with his hand and asked her what she wanted to eat. At that moment, someone upstairs suddenly started banging on the door violently, making a loud noise. Both of them were startled. A-Ling was puzzled, while Zhou Jing held his breath, a faint panic and utter despair appearing in his eyes. He recognized the voices of those people. The thing he feared most had finally happened; the scythe of doom always fell at the happiest moments. The series of actions that followed were so quick and instinctive, as if he had rehearsed them countless times in his mind, forming muscle memory. He swiftly carried A-Ling into the bedroom closet, bent down, and whispered in her ear, "Don't come out." Then he gently closed the door. Before closing the door, he even tried to smile at her and said softly, "No matter what happens, don't be afraid." Almost at the same time, the stairwell door was kicked open, and a group of people rushed down. With a loud crash, the ground shook as if a mountain flood had erupted, engulfing everything. He walked out, his back calm, without looking back. No matter what the future held, at least until dawn, he was happy. - The basement was narrow and cramped, and being inside felt like a trapped beast; the struggle itself was a form of despair. A long shot panned down from above the stairs, capturing a full view from top to bottom, through the crisscrossing steps and cabinets, like a god looking down at ants in a cage. Then, in multi-angle shots, several people were fighting, with no elaborate moves, just very primitive actions. It felt like the struggle and brutality of desperados. The young man was surrounded, first taking a hit to the head, then a fierce kick to the chest, causing him to collapse to the ground in pieces. Fists rained down on his face like a torrential downpour, mercilessly. He seemed not to think about protecting himself at all, not dodging when hit, and crashing straight into the wall with his back. It turned out that when a human body hits a wall, it makes a sound like a dull knife. When a person is grabbed by the hair, they show such a fierce, bloodthirsty look in their eyes. "Why is this kid resisting so fiercely today?" someone said. "Because it's his home, he feels it more," two others laughed, kicking Zhou Jing again. "By the way, didn't you say he was hiding someone at home? Go search!" Someone made a move towards the bedroom closet, Zhou Jing's eyes unfocused, lying weakly as if he didn't see. Another person walked in the opposite direction, and Zhou Jing stared at his back, pupils contracting like a dying beast, suddenly gritting his teeth and pouncing, choking the person's throat from behind. He did it on purpose. Desperate resistance was to attract everyone's attention. Hitting the wrong person was to create a smokescreen, to mislead them. He didn't care about being beaten. The basement was breached, and his body was the last sandbag. He wouldn't let the person he loved be drowned by the flood. - Li Ling hid in the closet, tears streaming down her face. At first, she stared wide-eyed in fear, covering her mouth, not daring to make a sound. Later, she watched for so long that her expression became numb. She knew no one would come to save them. No hope, no future. Tears kept pouring from her eyes like scalding sand. She was buried in the sand, unable to breathe. The last image in her sight was the young man turning his head, his lips moving as he mouthed the words to her with difficulty, "Don't look at me." This was not a line in the script. He knew she was watching him. Maybe after he said it, he even smiled at her, but because he accidentally tugged at the wound on his brow, it looked very awkward. That smile became extremely ugly. Light and dust fell into his eyes together. Then, he was completely blocked by the crowd. It was as if he was swallowed by a tide of zombies. A large group of walking corpses surrounded his thin body, tearing apart his flesh and organs. She obediently closed her eyes. Still crying, her tears turned into boiling seawater, and the air melted into a deep red, heavy like blood. She waited for a long time, until there was no sound outside, and finally opened her eyes. The assailants cursed, smashed everything, and left the basement like a storm. The thumping footsteps on the stairs sounded like the eerie noise of a heart pacemaker, like an unsettling countdown. She pushed open the cabinet door and saw Zhou Jing lying on the ground in the distance, unconscious. He was so far from her. She had only one leg; she couldn't stand up, couldn't get over there. She pounded her useless broken leg hard, hating herself for being a cripple for the first time. Anger and grief overwhelmed her body. She wanted to scream, to cry out, but none of it mattered. In the basement, no one could hear her cries for help. Only she could save him. She gritted her teeth, tensed all her muscles, and dragged her useless leg, crawling step by step. She tried many times. Falling, then getting up again. Falling, then getting up again. Her arms strained until the veins stood out, each finger like a nail, deeply embedded in the ground. The place was a mess, shards everywhere, broken glass cutting into her leg, the hard ground opening a mouth full of fangs, swallowing her whole. It hurt a lot, but what was this pain compared to Zhou Jing's? She didn't understand why, not long ago, this was their home, the beginning of a new life. Now everything was destroyed. Maybe she never had a home. Happiness was just an illusion; she didn't deserve happiness. She finally crawled to him. The young man's face was covered in blood, unconscious. He always avoided her, unwilling to let her see his wounds, always coming home late at night. But now she saw him at his most wretched, most miserable state. Up close, Jin Jingyao was indeed beaten badly, with bruises on his forehead, bloodstains at the corner of his mouth, and a deep wound between his brows. This wasn't entirely makeup. This scene had been shot many times, and each time he stumbled, scaring everyone around him into holding their breath. For some reason, Luo Mingqing's voice echoed in Li Ling's ears again. "He's a cripple, a madman, he can't write a script." "Everyone is waiting to see him make a fool of himself." She held him in her arms, cradling his head, cleaning his wounds. His blood stained her hands, her body. She lowered her head, listening to his faint breathing, her trembling lips pressed against his eyelids. The wind swept past her ears, and between heaven and earth, only they remained. They clung tightly to each other, their outlines blurring, sculpted into new shapes by blood, mud, and tears. No one could separate them again. They would eventually become one.