SY - 29

Because the character Sheng Yan was unique, Director Luo consistently guided Song Zhi to immerse herself in the emotions of the role by thinking about the most unbearable events in her life.

Naturally, Song Zhi recalled the fire incident.

Even after so many years, she still hadn’t moved past it. That day’s scene lingered like a nightmare she would never forget.

During the years when her grandmother took her back to the countryside, her mental state was poor, and she even had several suicidal thoughts.

After all, witnessing the death of loved ones and those piercing screams were like nails constantly pricking her heart.

The pain she had managed to forget was easily stirred up again.

Song Zhi struggled to breathe, her face pale and frightening. She held onto the railing to prevent herself from collapsing.

Director Luo seemed satisfied with her current state: “Very good, just like this. When we start shooting, release all your emotions; don’t hold back.”

Xia Wanyue noticed something was wrong and hurried over: “Are you okay?”

Song Zhi shook her head, her voice weak: “I’m fine.”

Her palms, however, were sweating coldly.

Having been in the entertainment industry for so long, Xia Wanyue was quite accurate at reading people.

Though she hadn’t been managing Song Zhi for long, it was enough for her to understand her personality thoroughly.

The girl appeared spoiled, coquettish, and moody, but her heart was already sealed away.

Inside, there was a dark corner where no one could enter, and she couldn’t escape either.

It was as if she was in a contest of wills.

Almost every artist suffered from cyberbullying, and companies usually arranged regular sessions with psychologists for them.

But Song Zhi always casually rejected these offers: “I have a strong mentality; I don’t care about outsiders’ voices.”

She genuinely didn’t care because in her heart, there were things far more unbearable.

She had no intention of accepting external help, leaving Xia Wanyue powerless to do anything but watch.

Watch her spin in circles with no way out.

This state was perfect timing, and Director Luo quickly instructed the crew to prepare for the next scene.

It was a small climax in the plot.

The junior and Tang Bai confessed their love and hugged each other, only to be seen by Sheng Yan, who came out to smoke.

Tang Bai tried to explain, but Sheng Yan told him to leave.

Her unstable emotions, exacerbated by severe depression, completely collapsed.

The clapperboard signaled the start of filming.

Sheng Yan wore a white silk nightgown, holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

She opened the door and saw the embracing couple, halting her steps.

Hearing the commotion, Tang Bai hastily pushed the junior away and tried to explain: “Yan Yan, it’s not what you think. Just now, she...”

Sheng Yan leaned lazily against the wall, her smooth long hair resting on her shoulders, exuding charm in every movement. She smiled faintly and asked him: “Did you two hug just now?”

Tang Bai paused, hesitating before answering: “Yes.”

“Then there’s nothing to explain,” Sheng Yan tilted her head slightly, still smiling. “Go away.”

She casually threw the cigarette and lighter into the trash bin, which had just been emptied, making a sharp noise.

She turned back into the room, and Tang Bai quickly followed.

“Yan Yan,” he called anxiously.

Sheng Yan pushed his hand away, her emotions collapsing entirely, hysterically shouting at him to leave.

“Get out! Get out!”

Her eyes were red, but tears wouldn’t come. Her hands trembled violently due to her breakdown.

Tang Bai embraced her painfully, repeatedly calling her name: “Yan Yan, Yan Yan.”

Sheng Yan no longer had the strength to push him away. She gasped for air, like a dying fish.

The set was extremely quiet, everyone standing silently watching the scene.

Their performance was too real, especially Song Zhi’s.

Her emotions and intensity made her seem like Sheng Yan herself.

The bloom and withering of a rose, transitioning naturally between emotions.

Until Director Luo called “Cut,” the silence gradually ended.

Xiao Xu brought throat-soothing tea over: “Sister Song Zhi.”

Song Zhi took the cup, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to fall.

Seeing her like this, Xiao Xu felt a pang of sympathy: “Sister Song Zhi, your performance just now was truly amazing.”

The throat-soothing tea tasted unpleasant, like drinking menthol oil.

Song Zhi sipped it slowly: “Your flattery skills have improved recently.”

Xiao Xu’s eyes were sincere: “This time, I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“Oh?” Song Zhi raised an eyebrow. “So the previous times weren’t sincere?”

Xiao Xu laughed: “Of course they were sincere, sincerely flattering you.”

“Alright.” Song Zhi stretched lazily. “Bring me my precious blanket; I’ll nap for a few minutes.”

There was a detail to reshoot later, but they had to wait for Tang Bai to finish first.

Song Zhi’s sleep schedule had been irregular lately because of frequent late-night shoots, allowing her only a few hours of rest.

She could only catch up on sleep during her free time.

Finally finishing a day’s shoot, Director Luo said that as a reward for completing today’s work satisfactorily, he organized a dinner gathering.

Exhausted, Song Zhi wanted only to go home and sleep and politely declined.

Director Luo didn’t insist.

He had witnessed Song Zhi’s hard work these days. Initially worried that the young girl might be spoiled and unable to endure hardship,

Under such challenging shooting conditions, she hadn’t complained once.

She came from a girl group, and her professional skills were average. Moreover, that group was infamous for infighting.

Even after disbanding, several members continued their disputes.

As a result, the reputations of other members within the group weren’t good in the industry.

After going solo, her first drama was purely a commercial flop aimed at quick money.

To make fast cash, many investors would fund such films.

This wasn’t necessarily a black mark, except she arrogantly believed she deserved the most prestigious acting award in the industry.

For a while, Song Zhi was thrust into the spotlight.

Before choosing her, Director Luo had numerous hesitations. He specifically watched the web series she starred in.

Only a beautiful face, lacking acting skills.

However, in the end, he decided to cast her despite the rumors.

After all, among so many artists in the industry, he couldn’t find another person more suitable for Sheng Yan than Song Zhi.

If she lacked acting skills, he could teach her how to act, though the process might be difficult.

But he didn’t expect Song Zhi to possess unusual talent in this area.

Not from a professional acting school, her acting was raw, like an unpolished piece of jade.

Yet, many things, once taught, she quickly understood.

After getting in the car, Song Zhi wrapped her beloved small blanket around her, lying on the reclined seat, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Xiao Xu connected his phone to Bluetooth, preparing to play some soothing music for Song Zhi.

Scrolling through the songs, he asked Song Zhi: “Do you want to listen to instrumental music or…”

Halfway through his sentence, seeing Song Zhi sleeping with her head tilted, compared to her usual spoilt behavior, she looked peaceful and obedient, her breathing unusually light.

Xiao Xu quietly closed his mouth, carefully got up, and pulled the car window curtains shut for her.

________________________________________

In the lounge bar.

After drinking too much alcohol, the conversation became lively.

Mentioning Song Zhi, Zhang Yiming became very animated: “That girl Song Zhi is more of a goddess than when we were studying. Those boys from the adjacent sports school used to come over every day to see her. I didn’t understand why. But after watching that GIF of her smoking in a drama the other day, damn, it hit me like an arrow—it’s so spicy, pure yet seductive.”

The hand holding the wine glass paused slightly.

Jiang Yan Zhou remained silent, his head bowed, arm resting loosely on his knee.

Qin He smiled: “Little Zhi is just an ordinary girl.”

Zhang Yiming’s eyes instantly turned mischievous: “You haven’t seen each other for so long. Don’t you plan to call and catch up?”

Others chimed in: “Yeah, we haven’t seen Song Zhi for years. This little girl used to follow us around calling us ‘Big Brother’ every day, but after graduation, we lost touch completely.”

Qin He originally planned to tell her face-to-face, “I’m back.”

But he couldn’t resist the group’s encouragement.

He smiled helplessly: “Alright.”

After going abroad, he hadn’t used this phone number.

Dialing the number from the speed dial, he was persuaded to put it on speakerphone.

The lounge bar was quiet, with only soothing piano music playing.

The dial tone rang for a long time before being answered.

A woman’s drowsy voice came through the phone, hoarse from sleep, her tone soft and sweet.

Even her complaining sounded flirtatious: “Who is it? Don’t you know disturbing someone’s dream sends them to hell?”

Still the same bad temper.

Qin He’s voice was gentle as he called her name: “Little Zhi.”

There was a long silence on the other side before hesitantly responding with a name: “Qin He?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m back in the country.”

Song Zhi seemed excited, her last bit of sleepiness gone: “Ah! Why didn’t you tell me beforehand? I would have come to pick you up.”

She was still the same as when she was little—she would shout and scream when excited or happy.

Qin He seemed a bit helpless about her childish temperament, but his smile remained affectionate: “You, still so immature even at this age.”

Barefoot, Song Zhi rummaged through boxes looking for clothes: “Are you in Beicheng or Heshi now?”

“In Beicheng, catching up with old classmates.”

Zhang Yiming leaned over and asked Song Zhi: “Little Zhi Zhi, do you remember your brother Yiming?”

She replied directly: “No.”

Zhang Yiming held his chest, pretending to be hurt; her ability to wound hadn’t changed: “We’re having drinks with your Qin He brother. Do you want to join?”

“Of course I want to come. Send me the address.”

After much deliberation, she chose a modest and elegant dress.

Like Song Luo, Qin He didn’t allow her to wear overly revealing clothes. Whenever he saw her, he would nag for a long time, and now she had learned her lesson.

During her darkest days, Qin He had been with her.

Later, when Song Luo was sentenced, Qin He disregarded his family’s objections, changed his major, and went abroad to study law.

He worked hard to get Song Luo a reduced sentence and ensure the arsonist received appropriate punishment.

In Song Zhi’s heart, he was her light, as essential as Song Luo.

Zhang Yiming teased with a laugh: “Do you miss your Qin He brother that much?”

“I dream of him every night.” She cooed flirtatiously, “Qin He brother, are you staying in the country for a long time or planning to go back soon?”

Jiang Yan Zhou, who had been silent, finally stood up, holding a cigarette between his fingers. He seemed uninterested in this reunion.

His voice, icy and low, sounded particularly hoarse: “I’m going out for a smoke.”