Jin Jingyao's romantic life during his student days had nothing to do with Li Ling. What was his purpose in writing a script for a romance film, and how much of his personal feelings were hidden in this story? Frankly speaking, it also had nothing to do with Li Ling. Theoretically, that is. But Li Ling always felt that A-Ling was A-Ling, a very independent individual. At the beginning, A-Ling's character was strange and dark. Li Ling didn't like her. She thought Jin Jingyao had written a weird script, with a weird female lead, and weirdly asked her to play the role—no problem, it's just work, after all. Money is hard to earn, and shit is hard to eat, understandable. As the filming progressed, Li Ling couldn't remember from which moment she started to understand A-Ling. She no longer needed to read the lines a hundred times to empathize with her feelings. They might have become friends. Now, sometimes Li Ling felt that she herself was A-Ling. This feeling was also very peculiar. It wasn't that she was hypnotizing herself into becoming A-Ling, nor was A-Ling consuming her, but rather they were inherently one. A-Ling grew from her heart, and vice versa. Li Ling had never thought that actually, A-Ling was not her. A-Ling was not her, nor was she an independent individual. She was a projection of someone in Jin Jingyao's memory. An illusion, like the moon in the water or flowers in a mirror. Her life was not given by Li Ling and had nothing to do with Li Ling. So, that young high school student, when he wrote the script back then. The person he thought of, the person who inspired him. Who was it? For some reason, this thought pricked Li Ling. Not too painful, but like a fishbone that had already been removed from the throat, even though there was nothing there, it still ached faintly. She silently swallowed, not wanting to sit with Jin Jingyao any longer, and decided to reclaim the use of the blanket. With this in mind, Li Ling yanked the blanket forcefully. ...It didn't move. Jin Jingyao shamelessly refused to let go, insisting on sharing the blanket with her. He even looked at her somewhat suspiciously and said, "What do you mean by 'my condolences'?" Li Ling, feeling indifferent, replied perfunctorily, "Just what it says." "What does it say?" he persistently asked. He seemed to have amnesia, already forgetting the things he had said to Li Ling. Yet he looked like he had more important things to say, hesitating to speak. But Li Ling didn't really want to listen. She even regretted bringing up the topic, thinking why talk about the script. Trash movie, trash script, let it end badly. Knowing that Jin Jingyao was still looking at her, Li Ling deliberately avoided his gaze. However, the tent was too small. His breathing, his large shadow, he seemed to be everywhere. In the quiet little tent, his young and handsome face was illuminated by the kerosene lamp. The flickering flame licked at him, probing into his eyes, making one's mouth dry. His originally pale skin was now coated with a honey-like sweet and rich hue. Jin Jingyao asked her softly, "What's wrong?" He seemed a bit worried that his earlier words had scared her. Or made her unhappy. So now he wanted to speak but didn't dare to. "Haha." Li Ling laughed dryly, "Nothing, Director." She lowered her head, but couldn't help thinking, what kind of girl did Jin Jingyao like when he was a teenager? She must have been a very good person, after all, he attended a British aristocratic school at that time, and the people around him were of high caliber. Perhaps it was some elegant blonde, blue-eyed lady, just like in Ang Lee's "Sense and Sensibility"—unfortunately, Li Ling had black hair. Li Ling imagined campus romance, the awakening of love, childhood sweethearts. Green lawns, white marble arches, a first kiss under the mistletoe. How tender and beautiful. Then she wondered why today's scene was shot this way, why Jin Jingyao brought the tent to the basement and shared a blanket with her. Was it a recreation of some memories? Was it because he had camped with someone he secretly loved? She darkly began to imagine Jin Jingyao in a black suit, standing at the funeral of that person. Did he cry? Maybe he wrote this script while crying. Ha, no wonder he couldn't write the ending. Li Ling pulled the blanket closer, not wanting to share it with Jin Jingyao at all. Jin Jingyao asked softly, "Are you very cold?" He moved a bit closer, his attitude almost cautious, as if he wanted to generously donate his body heat. But Li Ling felt that compared to him, the Bohemian blanket was more reliable. The blanket had no memories. The blanket wouldn't betray. Li Ling tactfully expressed her desire and need for the blanket. Jin Jingyao responded with an "oh," looking at her with some disapproval, but he still stood up. Then he stole ten blankets from the theater backstage upstairs and coldly said, "Is this enough?" Li Ling: "..." Is it possible that your little children's tent can't fit this many? Choosing between the blankets and Jin Jingyao, Jin Jingyao was mercilessly kicked out of the tent. He sat pitifully outside, unable to say a word. Those ambiguous, sticky, probing particles floating in the air also disappeared. Li Ling hugged the Bohemian blanket, stroking the intricate, irregular patterns, as if she was about to sink into a Gypsy dream. The dream was good; she liked dreaming, especially dreams uninvaded by reality. After all, she and Jin Jingyao were people from two different worlds. A bizarre movie dream connected them, but once the movie was finished, there would be no more connection. They came from completely different classes, with entirely opposite pasts and futures. The only intersection was now. Now, only now—before drifting off to sleep, Li Ling gazed at Jin Jingyao sitting outside the tent— The young man's broad back looked like her dreamcatcher, like a knight guarding her dreams. Li Ling suddenly felt a surge of anger and kicked him hard. Jin Jingyao: ? He turned to look at her, but he wasn't angry, and softly asked what was wrong. Li Ling pretended to be groggy and said, "Sorry, I had a nightmare." He squeezed into the tent with difficulty, looking down at her. The sound of soft breathing filled the small tent. He looked down at her, giving off a slightly dangerous feeling. For a moment, his shadow fell on her forehead, and Li Ling thought he would kiss her. But he didn't. He just gently wrapped the blanket around her and went out again. Li Ling thought of his gentleness, and then thought that such gentleness had nothing to do with her. After all, he had cried while writing the script before, so she kicked him again. - The next day, Xiao Liu came to the workshop to find Jin Jingyao. His cousin was checking the recently shot footage and showed a somewhat irritated expression when he saw him. Xiao Liu's alarm bells went off. The last time his cousin showed such an expression, their entire crew didn't sleep for three days. He cautiously asked, "Cousin, what's wrong? Is the filming not going well?"Jin Jingyao looked at him coldly and suddenly asked an unrelated question, "Have you ever confessed to someone?" Xiao Liu: ? "Haha, of course not." He puffed out his chest heroically. "A handsome guy like me, from birth till now, has only ever been confessed to by others." Jin Jingyao: . Xiao Liu was ruthlessly punctured by a period, his eyes brimming with tears. "Damn it, if you ask again, remember that I used to help you collect love letters and chocolates every day when we were kids. Our entire row of drawers was filled with your love letters. Have you forgotten?" "Forgotten." Xiao Liu gritted his teeth and finally said in humiliation, "So what's the matter, bro?" Jin Jingyao didn't seem very satisfied with Xiao Liu, but considering there was no one else to ask, he reluctantly said, "Why would someone say 'my condolences' when you confess to them?" "Because you got rejected," Xiao Liu said with experience. "They read it and replied randomly, you know?" Jin Jingyao looked indifferent. "Impossible." "How do you know? Wait a minute..." Xiao Liu was greatly shocked. "Bro, did you confess to someone???? Who????" "Not me," Jin Jingyao's expression darkened. "It's a line from the script." "Oh, oh, you scared me." Xiao Liu breathed a sigh of relief. Next, Director Jin reluctantly played a segment of dialogue recorded on set. "'My condolences.' What does 'my condolences' mean? Literally. What do you mean literally? What's wrong with you? Nothing much." Xiao Liu was speechless. "What is this, nonsense literature?" Jin Jingyao's expression changed slightly. "What are they even talking about? It's like they don't have mouths," Xiao Liu continued to complain, unaware of the impending danger. Jin Jingyao stood up, grabbed Xiao Liu by the collar, and threw him out the door, calmly telling him to go sort the trash. The 1.65-meter-tall Xiao Liu pedaled wildly in mid-air, repeatedly saying, "Cousin, I was wrong," before finally being let down. Jin Jingyao: "Anything else?" Fearing he might be considered hazardous waste, Xiao Liu hurried to prove his worth by reporting some serious matters. "Well, cousin, you asked me to look into He Wei's film crew." "Did you find anything?" Jin Jingyao raised his eyes, looking slightly more interested than before. "Of course, I went through a lot of trouble." Xiao Liu felt proud and boasted mysteriously, "I originally thought his death was just an on-set accident, but the more I investigated, the more complicated it became." "Hasn't it always been said that He Wei died on set and the film was never finished?" "That's not true at all. The film was completed. He Wei died later in the editing room from a sudden brain hemorrhage." Jin Jingyao: "If it was finished, why say it wasn't?" "No idea," Xiao Liu was also puzzled. "His good friend, the producer Chen Fei, has always said so publicly. He even said he felt guilty for not bringing He Wei's last work to the public, so he decided to retire." Jin Jingyao: "Does Chen Fei hold the film's rights?" "Chen Fei gave them to He Wei's wife. Mrs. He followed her husband's wishes and cremated the copy along with his body." "Isn't that strange?" Xiao Liu scratched his head. "He Wei worked so hard on the film, died in the editing room, how could he not want it released? His wife didn't even try to fight for it, just burned it..." Jin Jingyao: "Chen Fei is even stranger." Xiao Liu was stunned, then suddenly realized, "Right, he's the producer. Even if we don't talk about brotherly feelings, why would he turn down money?""This is He Wei's posthumous work. Even if it's not fully edited, a bit of post-production and it would definitely make some money if released..." He couldn't understand it no matter how hard he tried. Jin Jingyao lowered his eyes and asked in a very calm tone, "Has anyone seen this movie?" "No, I don't think so," Xiao Liu spread his hands, "The original copies were all destroyed." The investigation hit a dead end at this point. With no new leads, Xiao Liu felt even more frustrated and indignant on behalf of Li Lingming. This was her debut work, and also the final work of a great director. With such a high starting point, if the film had been successfully released, it would have been a huge success. How could it end up like this? Now, they couldn't even find a copy—how cruel, it was like a movie with no ending. After sighing for a while, Xiao Liu looked up at his cousin, only to see him staring at the monitor with an indifferent expression, as if he hadn't been listening at all. Feeling a bit embarrassed, Xiao Liu thought his cousin was really heartless. He touched his nose and turned to leave. Jin Jingyao said, "Find out who the editor was back then." Xiao Liu turned back, puzzled, "Huh? Why investigate him?" "If He Wei died in the editing room, the editor who worked with him must know something," Jin Jingyao said calmly. Xiao Liu suddenly understood, "Damn, that makes so much sense! Why didn't I think of that!" "Bro, your mind works so fast. I'll go check right now. Maybe we can really find the copy." Feeling excited, Xiao Liu was about to leave when Luo Mingqing stormed in like a gust of wind. He paused, made a face, and said disdainfully, "What are you doing here?" Luo Mingqing ignored him, pushed Xiao Liu out, slammed the door shut, and walked straight up to Jin Jingyao. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?" Luo Mingqing shouted angrily, "Letting me in that day to see what you were filming, what was that about? Trying to show off? Disgusting!" Jin Jingyao didn't even look up, only saying to remember to close the door on his way out. Seeing Jin Jingyao's indifference, Luo Mingqing became even more furious. But in his rage, he calmed down, his mouth twisting into a strange smile. "You think you're so great, just because you made a movie," he said softly, "How much do you even know about her past?" Hearing this, Jin Jingyao finally looked up and glanced at Luo Mingqing. It was strange, just a very calm look. Even though Jin Jingyao was sitting and Luo Mingqing was standing. Luo Mingqing felt a chill, as if he was being watched by some monster, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He instinctively wanted to step back but refused to show fear, so he stood his ground, gritting his teeth. Jin Jingyao seemed completely unconcerned, turned his head to look at Li Ling on the monitor again, then smiled gently and said to Luo Mingqing, "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?""