[Film Set · Live Shooting]
The set was arranged as the Shen family's private sitting room.
The lighting was deliberately dimmed, washed in a cold white tone, creating a mood that felt less like a confession and more like a negotiation.
Shen Xu stood with her back to the camera before the floor-to-ceiling window, spine straight, radiating quiet arrogance. Sheng Yuan stood half a step behind her, voice low, as if offering a carefully wrapped bait.
Behind the monitor, the director held his breath. His hand fell.
"—Action."
Sheng Yuan (played by Lu Gang) spoke evenly, with the polished calm of a businessman.
"The Shen family is restricting your meetings with Yu Heng. It's nothing more than a matter of status and position."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"If that's the case, why not choose a method that reassures the elders?"
Shen Xu turned, expression glacial.
"What are you suggesting?"
A faint smile curved Sheng Yuan's lips. He withdrew a document from his briefcase and placed it on the table, sliding it toward her with deliberate precision.
"A fake marriage. In name only. You may still see Yu Heng privately—I won't interfere. In return, I only require the Shen family's resources and support."
His gaze sharpened as the contract stopped in front of her.
"A transaction that benefits us both."
Up to this point, everything aligned perfectly with the script.
Shen Xu lowered her eyes to the document, hesitating for a single beat.
And in that sliver of silence—
Sheng Yuan suddenly stepped forward without warning. His palm came down heavily on her shoulder.
It wasn't violent.
But it carried something unmistakably invasive. Possessive.
This movement was not in the script.
[Outside the Monitor]
Wayne froze.
"…There's no physical contact in this scene."
He knew the script inside out. The sudden improvisation made his heart lurch.
Beside him, Qin Mu's brows drew sharply together. He said nothing, but the fingers braced against his knee tightened silently.
His concern wasn't about the script.
It was about something else—
Could a newcomer withstand a veteran actor's sudden, aggressive improvisation?
Wayne had already taken an unconscious step forward, ready to call cut.
But in the next second—
Shen Xu moved.
[Inside the Frame]
She did not retreat.
She did not stiffen.
Slowly, she lifted her head. A faint, almost contemptuous curve touched her lips.
She raised her hand and brushed Sheng Yuan's away—clean, precise, unhurried. The gesture wasn't forceful, but it carried a quiet finality.
The air on set seemed to freeze. Behind the camera, the crew stopped breathing.
Shen Xu met his gaze directly, voice clear and cold.
"Sheng Yuan, there is no such thing as a fake husband in my life."
She paused—
a perfect, decisive pause.
"There is only a real one."
She stepped half a pace forward, reversing the pressure. Her voice turned sharper, unwavering.
"And that 'real'—will only ever be Yu Heng."
[Film Set · Silence]
Three seconds.
You could hear a pin drop.
The director hadn't called cut. The camera was still rolling. Everyone was pinned in place by the force of her presence.
Then—
"Clap. Clap. Clap."
No one knew who started it, but applause erupted like a wave.
It wasn't just for the beautiful line delivery.
It was for the professionalism of someone who had caught the ball midair—and hurled it back twice as hard.
Qin Mu's fingers, frozen midair, slowly relaxed. He stared at the girl commanding the screen, something deepening in his eyes.
He had expected Jo Fei to lose her temper, to let pride ruin the scene.
Instead, she had caught it.
And she had done it flawlessly.
Finally, the director shouted,
"Good! Very good! That take is excellent!"
[Beyond the Camera · Within the Soul]
The moment Sheng Yuan's hand landed on her shoulder, Ye Xiaoxiao felt ice shoot up her spine.
It was instinctive fear. Her mind went blank. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
"Don't step back."
Jo Fei's voice cut through her mind—calm, steady, like a shot of adrenaline.
Ye Xiaoxiao trembled internally.
"But… that wasn't in the script…"
"You don't need preparation. Shen Xu never prepares for this."
Jo Fei's tone carried disdain and certainty.
"She only does one thing in her life—she refuses to be controlled."
"Brush his hand away. Not too fast. Not too slow. Smile—like you're looking at trash, not trying to please him."
Her voice carved a flawless trajectory through Ye Xiaoxiao's consciousness.
Almost unconsciously, Ye Xiaoxiao followed it.
The instant she brushed his hand aside, the fear dissolved.
In its place rose something she had never felt before—
Support.
"Now look at him. Make him understand who the protagonist of this scene is."
When the line broke from her throat, Ye Xiaoxiao felt as if Jo Fei stood directly behind her.
For a fleeting second—
Their souls overlapped.
[After Sound Cut]
The director leapt to his feet, exhilarated.
"Excellent! That was perfect!"
Applause filled the air, noise returning to the world.
Ye Xiaoxiao's heart still raced wildly, but in her mind she heard a very soft laugh—rarely gentle.
"…Well done," Jo Fei said quietly.
"You stood steadier than I expected."
Ye Xiaoxiao's eyes warmed slightly.
(I just did what you told me to.)
Jo Fei was silent for half a second.
Then, barely audible—
"No. You could always do it."