Chapter 47

Chapter 47

After setting the departure time with Director Zhou for the next day, Wen Zhi began packing that evening. Liu Yiru was surprised to learn she had agreed and asked doubtfully, "Didn't you say you’d never agree, even if you died?"

Wen Zhi replied, "Well, I’m not dead yet."

Liu Yiru: This woman can bend or stand firm as needed!

"Act well, and maybe I’ll come do a cameo someday," Liu Yiru said. Her previous drama had already wrapped up, and after returning, she had taken Sen Sen back home. Recently, she had been busy with variety shows and year-end award shows and red carpets.

Wen Zhi: "Sure, you can help take care of Mu Mu for now, and come visit the set when you do your cameo." That should be around winter break anyway.

Liu Yiru: "Deal."

The next day, Wen Zhi and Director Zhou set off for the Longyue Film and Television Base. The base wasn’t too far—about an hour by plane or about twenty minutes by car. Instead of going straight to the base, they went to a hotel next to it.

Director Zhou explained, "Our crew is staying here. First we'll have you meet the other actors, then we’ll go over the script. The day after tomorrow, we’ll visit the actual shooting locations, followed by a week of court etiquette training before filming begins."

Wen Zhi wasn’t very familiar with filming and found it all a bit complicated, but she trusted Director Zhou’s arrangements.

As soon as they arrived at the hotel, staff from the *Dream Lock Palace* crew came to greet them. Recognizing Wen Zhi, they greeted her enthusiastically. The December chill was biting, and Wen Zhi blurted out, "It’s so cold!"

She was bundled up in a down jacket, gloves, a knit hat, a matching scarf, and snow boots—a complete outfit that somehow didn’t make her look bulky.

Director Zhou chuckled. "It really is cold. By mid-December, it should snow, which works perfectly since we have several key snow scenes to shoot." His productions always prioritized real locations to immerse the audience, and these snow scenes were crucial.

Fortunately, the hotel’s heating was strong, and Wen Zhi felt much better as soon as she stepped inside. At the same time, everyone in the lobby automatically looked at her, their faces lighting up in recognition.

"It’s Wen Zhi, Wow!"

"She’s even prettier in person, and so tall!"

"What's she doing at the studio? Is she here for a shoot?"

When they noticed Director Zhou, the answer became clear—she must be here for a drama.

"Director Zhou is working on a palace drama, right? What role is Wen Zhi playing?"

"She’s never acted before, so it probably won’t be a major role?"

"How could it not be major? Look, Director Zhou personally invited her!"

"Her period costumes in *Peach Blossom Inn* were stunning. I'm excited!"

A passerby tried to take photos but was promptly stopped by staff.

They took the elevator to the sixth floor. As the doors opened, Director Zhou led the way. "First, we’ll meet the main cast in the conference room."

The room number was 606. Wen Zhi glanced up, and Director Zhou smiled. "For good luck. The lead actors’ room numbers are also 616, 626, 636, and so on."

Wen Zhi: *They’re really meticulous about this. Do they also burn incense and pray before filming starts?*

The conference room door was open. Someone stuck their head out when they heard footsteps, greeting Director Zhou immediately but going silent at the sight of Wen Zhi, speechless for a long moment. They entered to find a large round table surrounded by at least forty or fifty people.

Director Zhou explained, "Besides the actors, the main creative team, script supervisors, and post-production staff are all here." Then, addressing the room, he introduced, "This is Wen Zhi, the female lead of *Dream Lock Palace*. Let’s give her a warm welcome."

The crowd called out, "Hello, Wen Zhi!"

"Hi, Sister Zhi."

"Hi."

Wen Zhi took off her sunglasses and offered a polite smile. "Hello everyone, I'm Wen Zhi. Excited to collaborate with everyone."

A person who had never acted before, landing the female lead role in her first project—shouldn’t she have asked for guidance instead? Was she too sure of herself or downright cocky?

Everyone present knew Wen Zhi’s background, but the entertainment industry was full of well-connected people. Humility, eagerness to learn, and respect for seniors were what truly mattered.

Her arrival got the leads thinking, though their expressions remained friendly.

Director Zhou gestured to the baby-faced guy seated first on the left by the entrance. "This is Huo Xi, the male lead of this film. He’s also a newcomer." Here, "newcomer" didn’t mean someone like Wen Zhi with zero acting experience. In fact, Huo Xi was a proper drama school graduate who had already appeared in several TV dramas.

Huo Xi had stumbled upon *Baby!* before and was blown away by Wen Zhi’s looks. Now, seeing her in person, he stood up nervously and took two steps toward her, stammering, "M-Miss Wen, hello. I’m Huo Xi, your co-star in this film."

Wen Zhi returned the greeting, sizing him up from head to toe: his height was okay, but a little short; his face didn’t have that icy, regal sharpness; his presence couldn’t hold a candle to Shen Yizhi. No matter what, Shen Yizhi wouldn’t stutter—and his legs, at least, weren’t crippled.

Her intense look had Huo Xi sweating, as if Wen Zhi were tougher than Director Zhou at his audition.

Huo Xi stammered under her gaze, "M-Miss Wen, is there… a problem?"

Wen Zhi withdrew her gaze. "No."

Director Zhou continued the introductions. "Next to Huo Xi is Liu Yizhao, playing Emperor Lu Xun of Great Yong."

This actor’s height and build somewhat resembled Lu Xun’s, but his face was too soft, missing that slyness.

"And this is Zhang Miaoran, playing Empress Zhang."

Zhang Miaoran greeted her warmly. "I’m 23, a year younger than you. I’ll call you Sister Zhi from now on." She smiled sweetly, but her eyes gave her away.

Wen Zhi: *Does this Zhang Miaoran dislike me?*

Zhang Miaoran indeed wasn’t fond of Wen Zhi. She had originally auditioned for the female lead, and Director Zhou had initially considered her for the role. But after waiting a day, she suddenly received news that the director had found a more suitable lead.

As a seasoned actress, losing the role to a total rookie—who wouldn’t be pissed?

Like there wasn’t some shady favoritism at play?

Wen Zhi had no interest in playing mind games with her and just gave a cold nod.

Next, Director Zhou introduced the rest: the actors playing Consort Shu, the Empress Dowager, Prime Minister Zhang, General Zhang… and a series of others.

Wen Zhi greeted each of them in turn, officially completing the first meeting of the main cast.

Director Zhou’s assistant began distributing the first part of the script to each actor, and the director encouraged everyone to review it together. While they did, he added, "The costumes and props in the script are super detailed. The etiquette training will be relaxed in the first few days, but later, we’ll practice in full costume. It’s a bit cold, so just tough it out."

For many, just being part of Director Zhou’s project—even in a minor role—could blow up overnight.

The cold was no big deal.

Yet, aside from the cold, the crew also had to deal with Wen Zhi. She could spot countless inconsistencies in the script and would call over the writer to discuss revisions. At first, the writer dismissed her, thinking, *You’re not even in this field—what do you know, no matter how rich you are?* But as Wen Zhi spoke, he broke into a cold sweat, feeling as if he were put on the spot by a professor in the dead of winter.

Anyone unaware might have mistaken her for the original author or someone who had actually lived through that era.

When the makeup artist first applied the consort’s makeup on her, Wen Zhi scrunched her brows as she examined herself in the mirror. The artist, worried she was dissatisfied, asked what needed fixing. To her surprise, Wen Zhi removed all the makeup and styling and did her own makeup from scratch.

At first, the makeup artist was a little miffed. But once Wen Zhi finished, she was totally floored. *Holy crap, she IS the consort!* The simple styling and makeup highlighted her natural elegance flawlessly, making the artist—a veteran of over a decade in celebrity makeup—feel completely useless.

When the costume designer tried to teach her how to wear period clothing, she stretched lazily and had the elaborate outfit perfectly fastened without even looking. She then proceeded to critique the style, embroidery, and specifications of the imperial consort's attire, calling out a ton of mistakes. After examining the costumes of the other main actors, she could also pinpoint inaccuracies with scary accuracy, leaving the costume designer both ashamed and impressed.

While watching *Baby! 2*, everyone only knew Mu Mu studied classical literature, but who knew Wen Zhi had this crazy attention to detail? She even understood the minute details of ancient clothing.

When the props master brought over the set pieces, Wen Zhi took one look and immediately spotted, "Why does the dragon on the imperial desk have only three claws? In ancient times, this would’ve meant instant execution."

"The consort’s jewelry shouldn’t have phoenix patterns."

"The empress’s bed is too high—it might as well be a chopping block."

The props master broke into a cold sweat, relieved the mistakes were caught before Director Zhou noticed and would've ripped him a new one.

The crew’s attitude toward Wen Zhi shifted from initial curiosity to straight-up terror, dreading her next correction. Over time, the constant tension wore everyone down, making them feel useless, and some even approached the director to resign.

Unlike the frustrated crew, Director Zhou was thrilled. "Seems we’ve found the right person," he reassured them. "Making a film is like solving advanced math—it requires meticulous attention. We didn’t just hire a great actress but an expert. This is a rare learning opportunity—study from Wen Zhi, ask questions, and don’t fear mistakes."

Not wanting her efforts to go unrewarded, Director Zhou appointed Wen Zhi as the film’s special consultant, earning her double pay as both actor and creative advisor. He cheerfully added, "If anything feels off during filming, speak up. Only through discussion can we create a perfect movie."

Wen Zhi took his instructions to heart, even tearing apart the main cast’s performances.

For instance, Zhang Miaoran, who played Empress Zhang, was relentlessly critiqued by Wen Zhi over her portrayal.

"Wrong. Empress Zhang isn’t just haughty. She was born into wealth, raised in luxury—her initial demeanor should be regal but approachable."

Zhang Miaoran: *How is anyone supposed to embody such contradictory traits?*

*Who does this acting newbie think she is saying something like this?*

Yet even Director Zhou agreed her performance needed work, urging her to follow Wen Zhi’s guidance. After a dozen failed takes, Zhang Miaoran chucked the script across the room in frustration. "Your directions make no damn sense. No one could pull that off."

Wen Zhi then video-called Chen Yuyao, who was on leave, and had her perform an impromptu scene. With her hair styled and costume changed, Chen Yuyao became the living image of Empress Zhang.

Director Zhou’s eyes lit up, and he eagerly asked for Chen Yuyao’s contact info after the call.

Chen Yuyao, a minor actress who’d mostly worked in obscure projects, was unknown to Director Zhou. His sudden interest sent Zhang Miaoran into full panic mode—was he considering a recast? She hastily reassured him and later sought out Wen Zhi to apologize.

"I admit I was hostile at first, but after these past two days, your skill and expertise have completely blown me away," she said earnestly. "Director Zhou was right—you were born for this role."

Her attitude was a complete turnaround from their first meeting.

Wen Zhi: "I don’t have acting skills—I’m just that good naturally."

Zhang Miaoran: *I’ve seen shameless people, but never this shameless.*

*No wonder even the aloof Lin Jiyao got wrecked by her.*

*Sister Zhi is a total boss!*

From then on, Zhang Miaoran was fully convinced.

Liu Yizhao, who played the emperor, had seen what she could do and was walking on eggshells during their scenes, often overacting.

Wen Zhi: "The gaze is wrong—again! The emperor is skilled in combat, but he’s no brute. He was groomed by the imperial court—every movement should be refined. ‘Fierce eyes’ doesn’t mean lecherous. Nope! Eyebrows up—just a touch..."

Liu Yizhao grew so flustered he completely blanked on his lines, stumbling over his movements.

The Assistant Director frowned. "Isn't this slowing us down?"

Director Zhou replied sternly, "We can’t cut corners just to stay on schedule. With Wen Zhi here, this film is a surefire award-winner." Her insights into character psychology were impeccable—this special consultant was worth her weight in gold. This special consultant? Best damn hire we ever made.

The most miserable one was undoubtedly Huo Xi, who played Senior Tutor Shen Zhi. Everyone felt that Instructor Wen was the strictest with him. From the strands of his hair to the positioning of his feet, she picked apart every little thing—she was ridiculously meticulous.

During the second scene of their meeting, Huo Xi was walking forward among a group of scholars and accidentally glanced in her direction. Just that one glance made Wen Zhi burst out of the sedan chair: "No, Scholar Shen Zhi wouldn’t look this way. He’s studying for the imperial exams—his nose is buried in his books." At the time, she had even tried to bypass the maids guarding her, hoping for a rescue.

The young Shen Yizhi had his nose buried in his books and didn’t spare a glance at the sedan.

Wen Zhi thought to herself, if only he had noticed her back then, perhaps he would have saved her without hesitation.

Huo Xi got flustered the moment he faced her: "B-but that’s how it’s written in the script."

Wen Zhi: "Then the script is wrong."

"And why is your leg perfectly fine when you walk?"

*With so many legs around, it’s impressive you noticed mine.*

Assistant Director: "Well, the writers' room discussed it and felt that having the male lead limp would affect the audience’s impression, so they fixed his leg."

Wen Zhi analyzed earnestly: "What’s wrong with a cripple? A cripple can still be handsome and really memorable. Wasn’t the initial bond between the male and female leads built around this very leg? If you fix his leg, how is the female lead supposed to keep watching him and develop dependency and love?"

Catching herself, she quickly corrected herself: "Not love... but anyway, the leg can’t be fine."

In truth, Shen Yizhi’s limp wasn’t very severe—his crimson official robe concealed it so well it was barely noticeable.

The Assistant Director and Huo Xi exchanged helpless looks before turning to Director Zhou, who said: "Wen Zhi is right. The male lead’s imperfection highlights his inner strength. Have the scriptwriters revise it."

And so, Huo Xi got his limp back.

But that wasn’t the worst part—the real trouble came later.

During the prison rescue scene, a battered and bruised Huo Xi, upon seeing her, got all emotional. He grasped her hands and stammered, "Thank you... thank you, Your Highness, for believing in this humble official..." Before he could finish, Wen Zhi abruptly withdrew her hands. Caught off balance, he nearly smashed his forehead against the prison bars.

"Cut, cut, cut!" Wen Zhi said sternly. "Director, this feels completely unrealistic. Senior Tutor Shen is a man of few words—no matter how severe his injuries, he would endure them silently. At most, his eyes might light up upon seeing me. There’s no way he’d excitedly say ‘thank you.’ What he should say is, ‘Your Highness, from this moment onward, my life is yours.’”

Huo Xi was beside himself: *What is this, some dramatic life pledge? Isn’t this way too cheesy?*

"Brilliant, brilliant!" Director Zhou stood up, applauding enthusiastically. Distracted, Huo Xi accidentally wincing in pain as his forehead slammed hard against the prison door.

Director Zhou: "Changing the line suits the character better. Huo Xi, do it again—keep doing your best ice-cold act."

Huo Xi, now battling his pounding headache, repeated the line over and over, yet Wen Zhi remained unsatisfied.

"No, Senior Tutor Shen wouldn’t act like this."

"The tone is off."

"The movement is wrong."

"Or is it just the wrong person?"

Huo Xi’s face twisted in frustration. After filming so many scenes, were they really considering replacing the male lead now? Just as his anxiety peaked, Wen Zhi changed tack suddenly: "Director Zhou, I’ve been thinking—Senior Tutor Shen’s character feels off. The writers' room discussed it but didn’t make much progress. Maybe I should contact the book's author directly? It’d help with filming later on."

Director Zhou hesitated.

Wen Zhi quickly added, "Just give me his email. I’ll reach out myself—it's on him if he replies."

Director Zhou: "The confidentiality agreement..."

Wen Zhi: "I’m on the core creative team, so it doesn’t break the rules. Besides, I’m only discussing the script."

Director Zhou thought it over and agreed: Wen Zhi had indeed gone above and beyond for the production.

The moment Wen Zhi got the email address, she took a moment to think. If the other party was Shen Yizhi and hadn’t lost his memory, then as someone who could use a computer, he would surely know the casting for the female lead in his own work. If he hadn’t reached out to her, it might mean he didn’t remember—or perhaps it wasn’t Shen Yizhi himself. In that case, she couldn’t lay all her cards on the table too soon.

With that in mind, she first introduced herself as the female lead and then politely asked to discuss the script details. She waited for hours, but by bedtime, there was still no response. Not ready to give up, she called Yun Songzhang.

Yun Songzhang was skilled at computer tracking—maybe he could find something. Yet, he still didn’t answer.

Wen Zhi couldn’t believe it: Had it really been over half a month? Was he still avoiding her?

Before bed, she reluctantly sent a WeChat contact request, not holding out much hope.

The next morning, the first thing she did was check her phone for any email replies.

Still nothing.

Preoccupied, her imperial presence—honed from years in the palace—was on full display during filming. Her noble consort energy was overwhelming. Poor Huo Xi, her scene partner, was so thrown off by her that he couldn’t loosen up, making repeated mistakes and failed takes. Later, a single glare from her sent him stumbling backward in fright, dropping the food box he was holding.

The entire crew stared at him, and even Director Zhou stood up, grabbing the microphone to ask, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Wen Zhi came back to herself and smiled apologetically. “Are you alright?”

Huo Xi’s face burned red: He had actually been scared into falling by Wen Zhi’s glare.

How was he supposed to act after this?

Humiliated and flustered, he awkwardly picked himself up as his assistant rushed over with a coat to help him. Director Zhou asked again, “You okay?”

Huo Xi: “Zhou, I’m not in the right state today. Maybe we should shoot someone else’s scenes first.” He really couldn’t continue filming today—if he did, he’d probably lose all confidence.

Director Zhou nodded and let him go back to collect himself.

Director Zhou assumed Huo Xi would need at most a night to recover, but that evening, Huo Xi came to him, adamant about quitting the role of the male lead. Director Zhou was frustrated but tried to reassure him: “If one night isn’t enough, take a few more days. We can shoot other scenes first, and you can observe from the side?”

Huo Xi’s filmed scenes weren’t too extensive yet, but finding a suitable replacement on such short notice would be extremely difficult.

Huo Xi smiled bitterly. “Zhou, it’s not that I don’t want to act. Your projects always do well, and the male lead role is hotly contested in the industry. But my acting just isn’t good enough for this character. It wouldn’t be right if I dragged the whole film down because of my limitations.”

He had given it serious thought—he truly couldn’t keep up with Wen Zhi. If he forced himself to continue, this project might destroy his confidence entirely. It was better to step back and refine his skills first.

With him being so direct, Director Zhou couldn’t insist on keeping him. After Huo Xi left, the Assistant Director freaked out: “Zhou, you just let him go? What about the male lead now?”

Director Zhou’s expression was dark. “What else could I do? He couldn’t stand his ground against Wen Zhi’s acting. When the male and female leads share a scene, it looks like a master and servant—what kind of appeal would that have for the film? Find a new male lead. You’ve got three days—move fast.”

When he first approached Wen Zhi, Director Zhou had thought her appearance and temperament perfectly suited the role. Even if her acting needed work, he could guide her. Never did he expect her to embody the character so naturally that even veteran actors struggled to keep up under her presence.

“Three days?” The Assistant Director was frustrated.

Originally, they had auditioned over a thousand actors before finally settling on Huo Xi. Now, with just three days, where was he supposed to find another Shen Yizhi?

Frantic, the Assistant Director posted casting calls on social media and asked friends for recommendations. Over the next three days, many sent in photos or came for auditions, but none were the right fit.

After yet another disappointing audition, the increasingly desperate Assistant Director stood up from the hotel sofa, sighing as he watched the drizzling rain outside.

“What kind of mess is this…?”

A silver-roofed Maybach pulled up at the hotel entrance, and the automatic doors slid open. The Assistant Director glanced over as a black umbrella folded, revealing a tall, elegant man holding the hand of a little child. The man’s profile was refined and dignified, his gentle, patient eyes framed by gold-rimmed glasses. The child, about four or five years old, had a solemn little face that was nonetheless soft and adorable.

The Assistant Director’s eyes lit up: Holy cow, wasn’t this the spitting image of Shen Yizhi and the young Crown Prince from the script? Desperate not to let them slip away, the increasingly desperate Assistant Director hurried over and asked, “Ever thought about acting?”

Yun Songzhang turned his head and smiled politely, "I can't act."

The Assistant Director eagerly persuaded, "That's alright. Our lead actress was a beginner too, but now she performs better than anyone. You fit one of our roles perfectly—just be yourself, and it’ll work."

Yun Songzhang hesitated, while Mu Mu, whom he was holding by the hand, frowned and glared at the Assistant Director unhappily. "A gentleman doesn’t push people. Uncle Yun doesn’t know how to act, so don’t force him."

Hearing Mu Mu speak, the Assistant Director grew even more delighted: *Wow, such fancy words—he’s the spitting image of the little prince!* But why did the child look so familiar?

He scrutinized Mu Mu carefully, then took out his phone to check something before exclaiming in surprise, "Wait—you’re Mu Mu?" The kid was bundled up head to toe, with a hat and scarf, making it hard to recognize him at first glance.

Mu Mu stared blankly.

The Assistant Director clapped his hands. "Jackpot! I’m the Assistant Director of *Dream Lock Palace*. Wen Zhi is our lead actress, and she’s filming on set right now. Wanna head over?" Worried they might refuse, he quickly pulled out his business card and even showed his ID to Yun Songzhang.

Once he checked the ID, Yun Songzhang had their luggage taken upstairs to their room and followed the Assistant Director toward the film set.

As they walked, the Assistant Director excitedly said, "Since you know Ms. Wen, Mr. Yun, this is even better. Our film happens to be missing a male lead. You’d kill this role—might even go viral!"

Yun Songzhang’s eyes flickered. "Sounds fun. I can give it a try, though I’m afraid I might slow down your filming progress."

The Assistant Director: "Don’t sweat it. Let me take you to run a scene first. If it works out, you can stay. How does that sound?" *After all, once I bring him there, whether he’s cast or not is up to Director Zhou.*

Yun Songzhang: "Lead the way."

When the three arrived on set, Wen Zhi was still filming. The moment Mu Mu saw her, he excitedly called out, "Mama!"

Wen Zhi turned around, startled for a moment, then scooped him up as he rushed toward her. The set buzzed with energy. Director Zhou, spotting Mu Mu, quickly announced, "Everyone, take a short break. We’ll resume in a few minutes."

After thanking the crew, Wen Zhi carried Mu Mu aside and asked, "Auntie bring you?"

Mu Mu shook his head with a grin. "No, Uncle Yun brought me." He pointed a tiny finger.

Wen Zhi followed his gesture and saw Yun Songzhang standing beside the director.

*Wasn’t this the guy avoiding me? Why did he personally bring Mu Mu here now?*

She raised her chin and chuckled. "So you *did* come back. Where’s Sister Liu?"

Yun Songzhang smiled calmly, wasn’t a stammering mess like last time. "Mu Mu insisted on coming to see you. Sen Sen is still in school, and Sister Liu couldn’t make it, so I had to come." As he spoke, he took off his warm coat and draped it over her shoulders. "You freezing? You good?"

Wen Zhi: "I’ve handled worse."

Their interaction was so natural, and they looked so striking standing together—like they belonged together.

The Assistant Director and Director Zhou nodded approvingly: *This Yun guy is even better than Huo Xi—broad-shouldered, long-legged, with model-tier looks and vibe. Most importantly, he can hold his own against Wen Zhi.*

Director Zhou cleared his throat to get their attention and said with a smile, "Let’s have Mr. Yun run a scene. If it goes well, the male lead role is yours."

Everyone on set froze, their curious gazes sweeping over Yun Songzhang: *Who *is* this guy? Not a familiar face.*

*And he’s getting the male lead role right away?*

Even Wen Zhi, holding Mu Mu, was surprised. "*Him* as the lead?"

Director Zhou: "Yes. And we’ll need your help, Ms. Wen, to read with him."

Wen Zhi looked at Yun Songzhang: "Isn't work keeping you busy? Do you have time to act?"

Yun Songzhang: "Yes, I was on a business trip for so long that I didn’t even have time to answer calls. I wanted to free up some time, and trying out acting could be fun." He paused, then smiled. "Besides, you’re the female lead..."

Wen Zhi: "..." This guy doesn't beat around the bush.

Director Zhou watched the two with a pleased smile: Not bad, they've got great chemistry.

"Well, the scene we’re shooting is Scene 9, Take 11—the moment the male and female leads reunite in the palace and embrace by the lotus flowers."

After reading the script, Wen Zhi was completely confused: "Wait a minute." She held the script closer. "Director Zhou, I remember this scene was supposed to be a longing gaze from afar. How did it turn into an embrace?" In the novel, Shen Yizhi liking her was already absurd—could they make it any more ridiculous?

Director Zhou explained: "Oh, this morning I received an email from Mr. Shen, the original novel’s author. He said your suggestion was excellent and that the script needed some changes. He stayed up all night to add many more details. The script has been reviewed by me and the writing team—the interactions between the leads are now more developed and natural. From now on, we’ll shoot according to the revised script. The new version will be distributed to everyone this afternoon."

Wen Zhi was puzzled: What suggestion had she made? Why were there suddenly more romantic interactions between the leads?

And why had the reply gone to Director Zhou instead of her?

Before she could dwell on it, Director Zhou turned to Yun Songzhang and said, "Just relax. Just glance over the scene—the lines don’t have to be exact since we’ll dub them later. The key is the expression and movement. You must convey the joy, nerves, regret, and tenderness of seeing the person you love."

Yun Songzhang nodded seriously.

Director Zhou signaled the crew to get ready. Wen Zhi and Yun Songzhang moved into position as the clapperboard snapped: "Dream Lock Palace, Scene 9, Take 11—First Take. Leads Reunite and Embrace. Action!"

An em-brace?!

With Yun Songzhang?!

Wen Zhi: This is so weird and awkward.

Embracing the man who had been avoiding her for over half a month after confessing his feelings!!

Author's Note: