Li Ling fell asleep holding her phone, groggy and disoriented. When she woke up, her urge to curse the director had somewhat subsided. After thinking it over, she realized that her earlier low spirits were probably just because she hadn't fully gotten out of character. A-Ling would be anxious and concerned about whether Zhou Jing needed her. But she wasn't A-Ling; she was an actress getting paid to act. Li Ling's relationship with Jin Jingyao was very straightforward: work, work, work, with no personal feelings involved. No matter what, Director Jin had discovered her talent. Without him, she wouldn't have any roles to play now and would probably be strapping on explosives to perish together with Qin Yi. Thinking this way, Li Ling got out of bed and, in a self-hypnotizing manner, sent a little essay titled "Director is Great" to 9787532754335. 9787532754335 replied, "Don't love too much." Li Ling said, "I just love, I just love." 9787532754335: "..." She then asked, "The shoot is almost over. How should I thank the director?" 9787532754335: "You don't need to do anything; he'll be very happy." "That's not acceptable. I'm not an ingrate," Li Ling said, rolling her eyes. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, she sneaked into the basement kitchen. In the evening, 9787532754335 received a photo from Li Ling. He spent a long time trying to identify the strange, misshapen white bird in the photo. Finally, he encouraged her with difficulty, "A very cute mutant rooster!" Li Ling coldly replied, "It's a swan." 9787532754335: ? Li Ling: "If you can't understand, let your son look at it." 9787532754335 obediently said, "Okay, sister." Li Ling felt that his son arrived a bit too quickly. Their father-son relationship must be really good, always together, which was quite enviable. But she didn't think too much about it because the little genius's sweet talk made her feel overjoyed. In her moment of happiness, she took three selfies in a row and sent them along with a photo of herself and a small cake. After a while, she realized she had sent it to the wrong person again. Li Ling immediately clicked to retract the message: "You didn't see that, right?" 9787532754335 obediently said, "No, sister." He was really well-behaved, not even asking what Li Ling had retracted, just sincerely stating that he really hadn't seen it. Li Ling comforted him, "It's good you didn't see it. It was very inappropriate for children, definitely not something kids should see." 9787532754335: "Okay, sister." He then sent a cute heart-shaped protractor emoji: "Can I still see your selfies? QAQ" - When Jin Jingyao received the photos from Li Ling, he had just finished a call with Xiao Liu. Xiao Liu told him that they might be able to get the original copy of the film within one or two days. This also meant that in just one or two more days, he would be able to see the Li Ling from his memories. It was so smooth, almost unbelievable, as if blessed by divine intervention. With the film's completion imminent, Jin Jingyao felt that everything was proceeding in an orderly manner according to his plan. This gave him more confidence for the wrap-up tomorrow. Although, he still hadn't figured out what he should say to Li Ling after the shoot was over. He tried to draft a letter, writing down what he wanted to say, but every time the pen touched the paper, it seemed to have a mind of its own, refusing to form characters and instead automatically and consciously sketching the lively and beautiful profile of a woman. Rather than confessing to her, he preferred to draw her. Due to some past experiences, Jin Jingyao had always harbored a natural distrust of language. He hid his thoughts in films. Even when making movies, he preferred to spend more time thinking about visual language rather than studying how to write good dialogue. Li Ling was different from him; she was a very straightforward person. Even when facing a stranger online with the username 9787532754335, she could openly and sincerely express herself. He should learn from her. Thinking this, Jin Jingyao expressionlessly typed "Okay, sister" in the private message conversation. He saved all the selfies Li Ling sent into his album, then opened the content she described as inappropriate for children. She retracted it too late; he had already saved the video two minutes earlier. He was curious to see how inappropriate it could be. In the first second of the video, Li Ling's smiling face appeared. She looked very happy and not at all inappropriate for children. "To thank the director, I decided to make him a little swan cake by hand!" she said to the camera, cheering excitedly. If he hadn't already seen the photos of the mutated rooster cake, Jin Jingyao would have thought she sounded very confident. To describe Li Ling's cake-making process in one word, he would choose "chaotic." Because Li Ling really wasn't good at cracking eggs. Nor was she good at filming videos. She casually placed the phone camera on the table, resulting in a shot that neither fully captured her face nor clearly showed what her hands were doing. In just ten minutes, the phone fell heavily three times. Jin Jingyao watched expressionlessly as the camera fell repeatedly, the screen shaking violently, going black, and then Li Ling struggling to prop it back up. Her entire face filled the screen, now covered in flour, her lips red, muttering to herself, "Cut this part! Cut this part too!" He couldn't control his hand, which started taking screenshots like crazy. As Li Ling put the third cake mold into the oven, this act of gratitude seemed to finally make a breakthrough. She observed the oven seriously for a moment, then raised the phone with satisfaction, aiming the camera at her face, and said confidently, "This time it will definitely succeed!" It didn't have to succeed, Jin Jingyao thought to himself. After all, it wasn't her fault that she couldn't make a cake. If anyone was to blame, it could only be the props team—why did they put a functioning oven in Zhou Jing's kitchen? Facing the camera, her face looked even dirtier, covered in sweat, but her eyes were bright, like shining diamonds, with a moist glow. For some reason, his heart started pounding violently, driven by an inexplicable appetite. Her skin was like cream. Her lips were the red of a swan's beak. This wasn't just a cake; it was her Babette's Feast offered to him. - While waiting for the little swan to graduate from the oven, Li Ling began to try saying some words of thanks to the director in front of the camera. Always eloquent, she now seemed a bit clumsy and nervous, repeating herself several times without much success. Just a few simple words, why be so nervous? Jin Jingyao didn't quite understand. Then, a thought sweeter than a cream cake, very tempting, crept into his mind. Is it possible that Li Ling, like him, wanted to say something not entirely related to making movies? Maybe her feelings were the same as his, not just gratitude, but something else. Maybe at this moment, they were connected in spirit. This dangerous thought, like a dim flame, made Jin Jingyao's heart beat even faster. He stared intently at the screen, trying to find any possible clues on Li Ling's face. He watched as she, in a fit of frustration, threw the pre-written draft into the trash and decided to improvise. She stared at the camera, dazed for a moment, her eyes and brows filled with a mist of emotions he couldn't decipher. It didn't seem to be happiness, anticipation, or shyness; rather, it was the complete opposite of those words. She smiled, a very awkward smile that tugged at the muscles of her lips: "Director, you know? The first movie I ever acted in was one of He Wei's films." Jin Jingyao was stunned, his hand on the screenshot button paused. He realized that Li Ling indeed wanted to confess something to him, but it probably wasn't the kind of confession he had in mind. He didn't feel disappointed, at most thinking, as expected, and silently listened on. Li Ling spoke calmly to the camera: "I was only nineteen that year. I had a big fight with my dad. He told me to get out, so I left in a daze." "I stayed at a classmate's house for a few days. She wanted to be a big star and asked me to accompany her to audition for He Wei's new film. Unexpectedly, she didn't get the part, but I did." "I never thought about becoming an actress. I found the director very strange and rejected him several times. But He Wei told me I had talent and that I had to take this path. From the first moment he saw me, he knew I could become a big star. He said he would make my name appear on every billboard, make my dad, Aunt Luo, and everyone else look at me in a new light." "I believed him." Ten years later, as Li Ling recalled this past, her face still bore a slight, serene smile, as if the imagination of success and fame was a beam of light illuminating her face. But He Wei deceived her. Reality was so cruel. Ten years later, the movie never premiered, and she was just an obscure actress. She could never make her father regret or prove herself to him because her father was already dead. "Actually, He Wei's movie is a bit like yours, both about bullying. The character I played, He Wenli, was a severe victim of school bullying." "He Wei said I was very much like Wenli, both stubborn and unwilling to admit defeat. He believed I could definitely play the role well." "But, for some reason, from the first day of shooting, everyone suddenly stopped talking to me." "In the cafeteria, no one wanted to sit at the same table with me. On set, when I got scolded, everyone just looked at me coldly." "He Wei stopped encouraging me too. He often yelled at me, pointing and saying, 'You're not Wenli, you disappoint me so much.'" "I really thought I was acting terribly." Jin Jingyao stared at the screen, expressionless. His hands were trembling slightly. If He Wei weren't already dead, he would want to punch his teeth out, make him regret saying those words. As a fellow director, he knew exactly what He Wei was playing at. He wanted to use this method to make Li Ling fully immerse in the role. He wanted her to experience He Wenli's humiliation and pain, not just act it out. He captured her reactions as a victim, not as an actress. In the end, it was bullying happening on set. He truly deserved to die. But how could the young Li Ling have understood all this back then? She was just a blank sheet of paper, unfamiliar with acting, unaware of the ways of the world, and even less likely to realize that He Wei's actions were meant to control and break her. She faced the accomplished director and a crew entirely under his command, utterly isolated and helpless. Since she couldn't doubt the other party, she could only doubt herself: Was she too inadequate? Was she holding the crew back? Afraid of being replaced by the director, she could only work harder, be more diligent. He Wenli took many beatings in the film, and Li Ling volunteered to be hit for real. Every take was a real hit. Finishing the shoot with a bruised and swollen face, she silently applied medicine backstage, overhearing a few Hong Kong actors chatting in Cantonese. They said the director had already instructed them to hit hard, so why did she volunteer? What a fool. They spoke without restraint, assuming she couldn't understand. She buried her face in her knees, biting her lip to keep from crying. Since she couldn't understand, she wasn't allowed to cry. The film took nearly a year to shoot. A year is enough to turn a strong person weak, enough to drive a sane person mad. In the end, the female lead He Wenli drowned herself in the sea, and Li Ling repeatedly jumped into the water. She truly thought she was about to die. It turned out that making a film was such a painful thing, a slow suicide. But she was only nineteen, why did she have to go through this? In the emotionless narration, Li Ling once again saw the leaden horizon and the surging waves. The howling cold wind, like a giant hook, tore through the air like old cotton, revealing a shabby, unsightly interior. Two illusory shadows, she and He Wenli, were driven step by step into the cold seawater. The gray-white seawater surged up, completely submerging her vision. Many years later, Li Ling still remembered the day they wrapped up filming. It was at noon. She crawled out of the salty seawater, and the assistant director, shouting "Congratulations on wrapping up," eagerly popped a bottle of champagne over her head. The expensive wine slid into her mouth along with the seawater, creating an even more nauseating taste. She almost threw up. Everyone was celebrating, laughing. The laughter was like a fire, turning her into a burning figure in the sea. They congratulated her, affirmed her, thanked her for her contribution to the film, their words so earnest. But over the past year, it was clearly the same group of people who ignored her, mocked her, despised her. The pain they inflicted on her, like the seawater that submerged her mouth and nose, like the hidden sores growing in her teeth, was invisible, intangible. She couldn't understand how they could change their faces so quickly, as if the director's call of "cut" made everything that happened before unreal, as if it had never happened. Acting was an illusion. The set became a giant illusion. Everyone got drunk at the wrap party, but Li Ling hid alone, feeling that the word "wrap" was also a wound, a difficult-to-understand term. He Wei found her. He was always self-disciplined, not touching a drop of alcohol during nearly a year of filming, but now he was very drunk. Yet his drunken demeanor was not menacing, but rather tender. The tyrant on set had turned back into a kind, fatherly figure. The large patches of green shade trembled in the glaring sunlight. A light leaf floated down onto Li Ling's cheek. He Wei looked at her with tear-filled eyes and asked her in a very gentle voice, "Li Ling, may I hug you?" She wanted to say no, but her throat couldn't produce any sound. So He Wei bent down, hugged her tightly, and said "thank you" to her. He whispered a huge secret in her ear, a secret he had never told anyone in the crew. This movie was about his daughter who had committed suicide. He Wenli's death was his eternal regret. She ended her life in humiliation and pain, but in this movie, she regained her youth, was portrayed, and was forever remembered. "Thank you, Li Ling," He Wei sobbed uncontrollably, "Thank you for letting He Wenli live again." "I will always remember your contribution. As a father and as a director, I thank you." Years later, twenty-nine-year-old Li Ling stood in the basement kitchen. The oven emitted a warm, golden glow, and the air was filled with the wonderful scent of sugar, flour, and eggs. She looked at the camera in confusion, as if asking the director, or perhaps herself, "Should I forgive him?" "Can a hug and an apology make me forgive him?" "But he said he was just a father, he just wanted to make up for the last regret of his life." She had no answer, so she could only forget. The cake was ready, and the oven made a "ding" sound. Li Ling did not immediately check the development of the mutant chick. She scratched her head and said somewhat distressedly, "Forget it, let's not include this part." She looked up again, smiled at the camera, and in a very sincere tone, repeated the words she couldn't get right at the beginning of the video. "Director, I am very happy to have finished this movie with you. In your crew, I felt protected. You helped me selflessly and without any ulterior motives. You made me understand that an actor doesn't need to be hurt to complete a great work. You made me relearn to trust others and to believe in movies. I wish you all the best in the future." The screen wobbled slightly and then went dark. She finished recording. - Darkness spread from the screen, like a plume of black smoke after cremation, engulfing the entire room. Jin Jingyao sat in the dark, his throat choked by the thick smoke, not knowing what to say, and there was nothing to say. He suddenly thought, if only Li Ling were truly a forgetful person. He was no longer angry that she had forgotten him, not at all, just angry that she hadn't forgotten completely enough. In the last second, Li Ling looked steadily at the camera, expressing her gratitude to Jin Jingyao with unreserved sincerity. She said she believed in him. She believed he had no ulterior motives. She believed he had always been protecting her. After going through such things, she was still so kind and generous, willing to place her trust in another person. She shouldn't be so kind. At this moment, the words he had intended to confess to her on the night of the wrap party turned into subtitles of a gory horror film. They mutated, expanded, like boiling black blood, occupying the entire screen, rolling past Jin Jingyao's eyes with extreme ferocity. What did he want to say to her? That he also had ulterior motives, that he had long since stopped acting. Or that the entire movie was written for her, that there was no A-Ling in this world, only Li Ling. Of course, there was no Zhou Jing either. Every character he wrote was himself. The real him, under the guise of filming, completed a despicable, dirty dream from his youth. Just thinking about these words made them seem so disgusting, as disgusting as a tumor growing on his tongue. His feelings for her were no different from others'. It was all exploitation, all filthy. Jin Jingyao sat in the room for a while longer. The air was so stuffy, it was almost unbearable.He stood up and opened the door to his workspace just a crack. A sliver of dim light seeped into the room, like a murky river in the dead of night, exuding the stench of garbage. At that moment, Jin Jingyao suddenly received a call from a lawyer friend. The other party discussed some copyright-related issues with him. Originally, he had planned to confess his feelings after the film wrapped up. A confession required a gift, but Jin Jingyao didn't know what to give. Breakfast, flowers, jewelry, handbags, diamonds... all seemed boring and insincere. He had found some suitable scripts and film projects for her and planned to send them to her agent after the film was completed. He also wanted He Wei's film to be released, to let the nineteen-year-old Li Ling see the light of day again. Now, the confession might not happen, but the gift still needed to be given. The lawyer friend explained the current situation as simply as possible, mentioning that the biggest hidden danger was the real reason why the film hadn't been released. According to his understanding, He Wei had left in a hurry, without even leaving a will, so where did the last words come from? He then revealed another piece of information: the subject matter of the film seemed somewhat sensitive. It had faced many hurdles during the filing process, and they had almost failed to obtain a filming permit. In other words, the film might not have been deliberately unreleased; it simply couldn't be released. The lawyer suggested that he watch the film first before deciding on the next steps, advising him not to create trouble for himself. "Even if we take a step back," the other party advised earnestly, "what if the copy you have is just raw footage, not even edited? Are you going to watch and edit the whole thing yourself?" Jin Jingyao said it was all fine, it didn't matter, and he reiterated that no matter how difficult it was, he hoped to facilitate the release of the film. The lawyer was shocked, saying he had never seen someone so eager to do charity. "It's a ten-year-old matter. Are you feeling sorry for the actress? She might have forgotten all about it, and here you are, taking it all on yourself." "Oh, anyone who didn't know better might think she's your girlfriend," the other party said teasingly, "Aren't you afraid she'll really fall for you with you acting so gentle?" The word "like" once again stung Jin Jingyao. He couldn't like her; he wasn't worthy of liking her. He closed his eyes, pretending to be calm and indifferent: "Otherwise, what can I do? Her acting is so bad, she can't even get into character." The lawyer friend on the other end of the line let out a knowing laugh. But Jin Jingyao felt a dense, tearing pain deep inside, enough to rip him apart. His hand trembled slightly, almost unsteady. The pain was too much; he needed to find something to do, or he wouldn't be able to think. He urgently opened a drawer, took out a dart, and threw it at the wall. The dart sliced through the air and landed precisely on Li Ling's photo. ...Damn. He missed. Jin Jingyao's mind went blank, his expression one of disbelief. For the first time in ten years, he had made such a rookie mistake. He hung up the phone, took down Li Ling's photo with great care, taped it back together, and put it in the drawer. Then he picked up the dart again and nailed Luo Mingqing's photo ten times. As if to prove himself, each throw was steady and accurate. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Luo Mingqing's face quickly became riddled with holes. But Li Ling outside the door didn't get to see any of this. When the dart first hit her face, she had already turned and left.