Li Ling threw away the cake and left the theater, but the more she thought about it on the way, the angrier she became, to the point where her hair was almost standing on end. What nonsense. Saying her acting was bad, saying she couldn't get into character, and even saying that his gentleness towards her was all an act. During this period, Director Jin had indeed been very gentle with her, and she had thought he was just in a good mood. Turns out he was in a good mood because he had taken a laxative! Anger surged from her heart, and with a fierce determination, Li Ling stormed back the way she came, returning to the director's office and knocking forcefully on the door. Bang bang bang bang bang. She knocked for a full five minutes, her hand swollen from the effort, but still, no one answered. Li Ling stared in disbelief. Are you kidding me? He's already gone? He's not a Hong Kong reporter, why did he run so fast? She had prepared a whole stomach full of curses, but now she had nowhere to say them, feeling like a balloon filled with air, about to float away. The balloon, weighed down by her anger, floated back. The mountain road was dark and lonely, and before long, she was deflated, collapsing to the ground like a flat tire. Li Ling turned into a deflated tire, completely limp, lying by the roadside like a corpse. She remembered how many times she had walked this road at night, and how many times Director Jin had walked it with her. Were all those times just an act too? She had nowhere to escape within the crew because the village was so small, filled with memories of him and her. His presence lingered everywhere. She simply stopped walking, stood under a tree, and calmly took out her phone to call Jin Jingyao. She called once, no answer, so she called a second time. In the long wait, her patience was almost exhausted. However, the moment she heard the young man's voice on the other end, everything seemed to quiet down. The whole world pressed the pause button. "What's the matter?" Jin Jingyao asked. His tone was very calm, even gentle. Just as gentle as when he was directing her. Just as gentle as when he complained to friends, "Her acting is so bad, she can't get into character at all." Li Ling smiled and instinctively said, "Director, can't I call you for no reason?" Jin Jingyao answered quickly, as if the question required no thought. He said, "You can." Then he added, "It's very late, what are you doing?" For some reason, his voice sounded faintly happy, as if he felt he had already known the answer to the test. Li Ling didn't know what he was happy about, only that his smug tone was even more infuriating, so she said, "Director, you're very gentle with me." "Why are you so gentle with me?" she asked with a smile. Jin Jingyao paused, as if politely and reservedly considering how to answer the question appropriately. But Li Ling no longer cared what he would say. After all, it was all an act, a lie. Not a word from his mouth was true. "Director, is my acting really that bad?" she asked softly, "So bad that you can't stand it?" "—Then why didn't you tell me?" The breathing on the other end suddenly became rapid. Jin Jingyao was stunned for a moment, as if realizing something, and immediately said, "Li Ling, I..." Li Ling interrupted him, coldly saying, "Don't call my name anymore." "Hearing it makes me sick." Sure enough, the other side fell silent. Despite saying hurtful words, Li Ling felt as if her mouth had been stuffed with a huge, wet rag, her entire oral cavity twisted into a knot, feeling stifled and bitter. She suddenly felt a sense of helplessness and instinctively looked up, seeing the shadows of the trees swaying above her. Those tranquil trees seemed to come alive at night, transforming into towering temples. In the dim, hazy moonlight, the leaves rustled, and the shadows of the leaves fell on her hands like chaotic black runes. Memories were reinterpreted in a bizarre way. Many years ago, on the afternoon of the last day of filming, He Wei had also found her under a tree. They were all the same; all directors were the same. She didn't want to ask anymore. Talking to the dead was meaningless. Jin Jingyao asked her softly, "Li Ling, are you still there?" Li Ling wanted to hang up the phone but couldn't muster the strength. She clenched her teeth, her breathing becoming labored, like a dying animal. "Don't call my name," she repeated, more forcefully, "You don't deserve to." "Director, was it very painful for you to film with me?" she asked him. "Then you should have just said so, why pretend it was so hard?" "Is it fun to toy with other people's emotions?" "You're just a director, not God. What gives you the right to do this?" "I'm just making a movie... why do you have to treat me like this..." At first, Jin Jingyao kept trying to interject, but Li Ling didn't give him the chance. Over time, he stopped speaking, just listening. Li Ling said a lot, as if she were dumping garbage. She had too much garbage to dump, too many emotions with no outlet. She didn't feel humiliated, nor did she feel pain. She wasn't even a person anymore, just a vacuum-sealed bag, slowly being drained, deflating bit by bit. Even her voice grew more and more indistinct, leaving only the whimpering sound of the vacuum being emptied. She couldn't remember which words made her start crying. She shouldn't cry. Crying was weakness, surrender. Never shed tears in front of the enemy. But she cried anyway, her hands trembling, unable to stand, crouching pathetically by the roadside. Countless times, she woke up from nightmares, dreaming of that afternoon when filming wrapped, dreaming of He Wei saying he wanted to hug her. She wanted to correct her memory over and over, wanted to tell him no, wanted to curse him, slap him. But the reality was, she would still trust a director, still make the same mistakes. She thought this director was different from the others. She felt so foolish. So foolish she should die. She crouched on the ground, crying for a long time, saying many things that hurt both him and herself. She asked him repeatedly if he had ever seen her as a person. Asked him why he lied to her, why he hurt her. Asked him why he didn't keep his promises, and why he died so early. She didn't know who these questions were for, and forgot that the dead couldn't answer. But Jin Jingyao never hung up the phone. On the other end, he breathed quietly. He listened silently, for a long time, until he heard her crying so hard, maybe even scared by her, and said softly, "Where are you? I'll come find you." Li Ling sobbed, lifting her tear-filled eyes. She saw the tall trees by the roadside, their roots intertwined in strange shapes. The sky was a cold, eerie blue, with a sliver of white moonlight in the bizarre clouds, like the upturned eye of a dead fish. She felt like a dead fish herself, flopping on the shore, about to turn belly up. "I'm jumping off a cliff," Li Ling choked out, "Goodbye forever." - Li Ling was jolted awake from her sleep by a loud knocking on the door. She felt very annoyed. She was having a very good dream, dreaming that she had turned into a little demon in hell, constantly poking Jin Jingyao's waist and buttocks with a red-hot fork, making him cry out loud. He cried very sadly, and while crying, he voluntarily jumped into the oil pot, begging Li Ling to fry him into a small fried cake. Li Ling said no, you are so ugly, the cake you turn into would not even be eaten by a dog. Jin Jingyao cried even more sadly, begging Li Ling not to feed him to the dogs. Li Ling showed an evil smile, if not to the dogs, then to the pigs, I will feed you to the three-headed pig of hell. —Where are the pigs? She wanted to dream of the three-headed pig of hell, she didn't want to wake up. Li Ling angrily turned around and covered her head with the quilt. But the person outside the door was very annoying, still knocking and knocking. She finally jumped out of bed and angrily opened the door. A tall, slender young man stood quietly outside the door. The moment he saw her, a look of relief appeared on his face. Maybe the corridor was too dimly lit. Jin Jingyao took a step forward, instinctively, as if he really wanted to come over and hug her. But it was just one step. He quickly restrained himself, both hands hanging at his sides, very polite, very cautious, keeping a distance from her. In this way, the young man standing in the shadows, although tall and thin, with an imposing figure, his posture was like a child being punished to stand. His body language revealed a certain repressed desire, forcibly suppressed by reason. "Did I wake you up? I'm sorry," Jin Jingyao said softly. After saying this, he turned and left. Li Ling, still groggy from sleep, looked at his back, completely unaware of what had happened. She had cursed the director over the phone, feeling like she had dumped ten years' worth of garbage, and went back to her room to sleep. Who would have thought that in the past few hours, Jin Jingyao had almost turned the entire crew and the whole mountain upside down looking for her. He even almost called for a helicopter to search below the cliff. But it was too late now, the helicopter couldn't come. Xiao Liu, seeing him make such a fuss, asked in confusion, "Why would she jump off a cliff for no reason?" Jin Jingyao pressed his lips together, explaining nothing. Xiao Liu continued, "Isn't it possible that she just said it casually and is now sleeping in her room?" Jin Jingyao: "She takes every word she says seriously." Xiao Liu was even more confused: "Huh? Are we talking about the same Li Ling? Isn't she always full of nonsense?" Jin Jingyao sternly warned him not to speak ill of Li Ling, but still held onto a last hope and came to knock on her door. Li Ling stared at his back, still puzzled, but suddenly felt he looked very disheveled. He always stood very straight, a very handsome and neat young man. At this moment, his back was slightly hunched, his hair was messy, his clothes were torn, and his pant legs were covered in grass and mud. She looked more closely and even found a few leaves in his hair. This was too ridiculous. She thought he looked very funny and couldn't help but stare at those leaves for a few more moments. Maybe because she stood at the door for too long, not planning to close it. Jin Jingyao's footsteps paused, and he suddenly turned around. The corridor was dimly lit, like a Hitchcock movie, a still long shot, yet inexplicably giving a sense of dizziness. A fleeting emotion flashed in his eyes, something close to hope, fragile—this faint glimmer was quickly swallowed by the stillness of dead water, leaving only a dangerous undercurrent surging. The shadow stretched longer and longer in the narrow corridor, and she felt the air becoming thin. Li Ling felt uneasy and immediately retreated to her room, slamming the door shut. Through the door, she could still hear the footsteps. He walked towards her again, stopping in front of her door, and gently knocked with his knuckles. "Can we talk?""