[Film Set · Soundstage]
One by one, the lights came on.
White light spilled across the prepared floor of the set, as if the entire world had been framed into a stage with no escape.
From behind the monitor, the director called out,
"Alright—Jo Fei, ready! Three, two—"
Ye Xiaoxiao stood at her mark, her palms slick with sweat.
Just last night, she and Jo Fei's spirit had rehearsed until nearly dawn.
Every line.
Every cue.
Every step.
She knew them all by heart.
And yet—
The cameras.
The lights.
The crew.
The actors' gazes.
All of it was focused on her.
It felt like the whole world was watching.
Her mind—
crashed.
"Action!"
She stepped forward on instinct—
Her left foot moved, but her left hand followed.
Instantly, her body slipped into an awkward, impossible rhythm—
like a person who couldn't tell left from right.
She froze for a split second.
(Wait… was I supposed to step first? Or lift my hand?)
In front of the camera, she forced herself to hold Jo Fei's signature cool expression.
But her body—
betrayed her panic with brutal honesty.
Floating beside her, Jo Fei's spirit covered her face on the spot.
"…What are you DOING—?!"
She was practically exploding.
"I taught you this yesterday, didn't I?!
This part is 'two steps, stop, turn, cold stare'!
Not 'a duck learning how to walk'!!"
Inside, Ye Xiaoxiao was on the verge of tears.
(I know… I really do…
But my legs won't listen to me…)
She gritted her teeth, forced the movement back on track, and finally managed to stop in position.
He Zhan had been waiting for her to settle into the blocking.
But when he lifted his gaze—
He saw "Jo Fei," clearly trying to stay composed, yet radiating tension from head to toe.
Uncoordinated steps.
Slightly stiff shoulders.
A flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
It was obvious.
He couldn't help it—he let out a soft laugh.
Not mockery.
The kind of gentle smile a seasoned actor gives when seeing a newcomer flustered.
"Miss Jo,"
his voice instinctively softened,
"you're too tense."
He stepped half a pace forward, positioning himself where she could easily find him.
"Relax. Don't be nervous.
For this scene—
I'll lead you into it."
In that moment, he wasn't Yu Heng.
He was actor He Zhan—
a veteran who knew how to catch his scene partner.
Ye Xiaoxiao froze.
That feeling—
of being steadily supported—
made her chest loosen all at once.
She almost cried.
"…Th-thank you,"
she whispered.
Beside her, Jo Fei's spirit went quiet for once.
Because she could see it too—
He Zhan was genuinely helping her.
Not far away, at the monitoring area.
Wayne stood with his arms crossed, watching the scene, and laughed under his breath.
"Oh my god," he said softly.
"She's… ridiculously cute."
That wasn't a professional evaluation.
That was someone being hit straight in the heart.
Beside him, Qin Mu said nothing.
But when he saw "Jo Fei" struggling to steady herself—trying so hard not to fall apart—
The corner of his lips betrayed him, curving upward ever so slightly.
He lifted a hand to cover his mouth, hiding the smile that nearly escaped.
And then—
A thought surfaced.
One that absolutely shouldn't have.
…Why does this clumsy, off-beat side of her feel so much like Ye Xiaoxiao?
The next second, the thought startled him.
Ridiculous.
Ye Xiaoxiao was still lying unconscious in a hospital bed.
And the woman here was Jo Fei—
a cold, untouchable heiress-turned-actress.
Two people.
Two worlds.
How could they overlap?
Qin Mu frowned, forcefully pressing the thought back down.
He hated himself for comparing anyone to her.
Yet his gaze—
still drifted back to her, against his will.
Under He Zhan's guidance, the rhythm of the set slowly stabilized.
He deliberately slowed his speech, giving her an extra half-beat to react.
During blocking, he subtly positioned himself where she could find her marks more easily.
It was as if he were quietly anchoring the tempo of the entire scene.
Ye Xiaoxiao felt it.
That sense of being held up finally steadied her breathing.
And in her ear—
Jo Fei's spirit switched into full tactical-command mode.
"Left step… stop."
"Now lift your eyes. Look at him."
"This line—cold emotion. Not fear. Suppressed anger."
Ye Xiaoxiao listened.
And followed.
Her body began to remember the pathways they'd practiced the night before.
Her steps stopped tangling.
Her gaze stopped wandering.
When she lifted her eyes to meet He Zhan's—
For that brief instant—
She truly resembled Jo Fei.
Calm.
Restrained.
With an undercurrent of emotion simmering beneath the surface.
He Zhan met her gaze—and felt something stir.
She's got it.
The final line fell.
The set went silent for half a second.
The director stared at the monitor, then lifted a hand.
"…Good."
"That works. We've got it."
That single word—cut—felt like salvation.
All the strength drained from Ye Xiaoxiao's body at once.
She nearly collapsed where she stood.
Beside her, Jo Fei's spirit exhaled, still sharp-tongued, yet undeniably relieved.
"…Not bad.
At least you didn't turn me into a full-blown social recluse."
Inside, Ye Xiaoxiao was on the verge of tears.
(I really…
I really made it through…)
Not far away, He Zhan smiled at her—
warm, gentle, and affirming.
Wayne and Qin Mu were both watching.
One with a grin born of pure, helpless fondness.
The other with a growing, impossible doubt.
—Was this "Jo Fei"
really the same cold, arrogant heiress everyone talked about?
And in the corner of the resting area—
Lu Gang folded his arms and slowly curled his lips into a smile.
Like a predator who had just spotted something interesting.