Director Wei Song's "Cut!" that he shouted with all his might sounded particularly abrupt in the great tent filled with the sounds of wind, snow, and mournful songs, yet it carried a decisive force that seed to end everything.
However, no one responded.
The entire film set was still shrouded in sorrow.
Everyone remained trapped in that tragic farewell, unable to extricate themselves.
"Quick! dical team!"
Sun Zhou was the first to struggle out of that ocean of grief, his voice cracking with panic.
He rushed toward the two figures lying motionless at the center of the great tent.
The accompanying dical team personnel also reacted imdiately, grabbing their ergency kits and following close behind.
It's over! Sothing's happened!
This was the only thought in everyone's mind.
The scene just now was too real!
Especially Zhao Yingfei's final, heart-dead determination at the end, and the uncontrollable violent trembling of Jiang Ci's body as he held her—it simply didn't seem like acting!
Getting too imrsed in the role, ntal collapse, even shock during filming... on a film set, such things were not uncommon.
Under the horrified gazes of everyone, the dical team and Sun Zhou had already rushed to the scene.
What they saw was a picture heartbreaking enough to shatter anyone.
Jiang Ci still maintained his kneeling posture, holding Zhao Yingfei tightly, almost desperately, in his arms.
His head was buried deep in the crook of her neck, his entire body still trembling violently from that uncontrollable grief.
That appearance was exactly Xiang Yu making his final farewell, unwilling to let go of the last trace of warmth in his arms.
Yu Ji's sorrow, unwillingness, and final release had completely overwheld Zhao Yingfei.
She felt she was Yu Ji, having already danced her last dance for her king, shed her last drop of blood.
Suddenly.
A calm, utterly emotionless male voice, completely out of place in this desolate, hopeless situation, sounded precisely in her ear.
"The director called cut. Yu Ji's performance is over."
This voice was not Xiang Yu's.
It was Jiang Ci's.
Zhao Yingfei's consciousness experienced a montary daze.
Cut?
Over?
Before she could even digest the aning of these two words, that flat, uninflected voice continued to sound in her ear.
"If you keep crying like this, not only will you not get overti pay, you'll have to compensate the crew for lost work ti."
"..."
Boom!
Zhao Yingfei's heart-dead, grief-stricken emotions instantly found an outlet.
The violent trembling of her body abruptly stopped.
Tears belonging to Yu Ji still hung at the corners of her eyes.
What... the hell?
Just as her mind went completely blank, shocked into a standstill by this extre sense of absurdity, Jiang Ci's Jiang-isms ca again.
"Besides, your suicide scene just now was a perfect one-take."
"To die again now would be a repeat performance."
Repeat performance.
Four words instantly sliced open the shell of "Yu Ji," yanking out the core belonging to "actress Zhao Yingfei" inside.
That imrsive sorrow completely vanished without a trace.
Replacing it was a sense of being torn between laughter and tears, an extre feeling of disconnection.
"Pfft."
A very soft, completely unstifled laugh escaped Zhao Yingfei's mouth.
In the great tent, the sound was faint, yet clearly audible.
The next second, she opened her eyes.
Those eyes, still filled with thick moisture, were brimming with absurdity.
The dical team and Sun Zhou, who had just rushed to the scene, happened to witness this mont.
Yu Ji, who had just "died" in the Hegemon's arms a second ago, barely breathing, opened her eyes by herself the next second and even... even laughed?
Then, under everyone's dumbfounded stares, Zhao Yingfei sat up by herself from Jiang Ci's embrace.
Apart from her still-pale face and reddened eye corners, she looked... completely fine.
"..."
The dical team doctor who had rushed over stood frozen in place, hand raised.
Sun Zhou stood with his mouth agape, the follow-up question "Teacher Zhao, are you alright?" stuck hard in his throat.
The entire scene fell into an eerie silence.
Jiang Ci seed completely unaware of the change in atmosphere around him.
Without changing his expression, he released his hold and stood up as well.
He didn't look at Zhao Yingfei, nor did he pay attention to the ghost-seeing expressions around him.
His attention had completely shifted to his arm, which was still oozing blood.
The bloody gash left by the prop sword looked sowhat shocking under the torn sleeve.
"Tss..."
He drew a light, sharp breath.
"Ci-ge!"
Sun Zhou finally snapped back to reality, pointing at the wound, his voice trembling.
"You're injured! You're bleeding! dical team! Quick! Quick, treat Ci-ge's wound!"
Jiang Ci waved impatiently at Sun Zhou's frantic shouting.
"It's just a superficial wound."
His tone was calm, as if talking about soone else's business.
"Just disinfect it with alcohol and put on a band-aid."
Sun Zhou: "..."
A band-aid?
You call this deep gash sothing a band-aid can fix?
Just as Sun Zhou was about to jump up and down in place from anxiety, a steady figure slowly made his way through the crowd and walked to Jiang Ci's side.
It was Qin Feng.
This highly respected Film Emperor didn't make a fuss like the others.
With eyes that seed capable of seeing through everything, he stared at Jiang Ci's face, which had already rapidly shed all emotion, becoming calm to an excessive degree.
After a long while.
He finally spoke.
"What did you say to her just now?"
Everyone's ears instantly perked up.
Right!
Just now, while holding Zhao Yingfei, Jiang Ci's lips had clearly moved!
It must have been those few sentences he spoke that instantly "revived" Zhao Yingfei, who had been so deeply imrsed in the role!
What kind of magically potent lines were those?
Words of comfort? Guidance? Or so secret technique for pulling actors out of their emotions?
Jiang Ci t the Film Emperor's gaze frankly, his overly young face filled with sincerity.
He answered with utmost seriousness.
"Nothing much."
"We discussed the character's end-of-life experience, reminded her that work is over, and told her not to delay everyone's off-duty ti."
Qin Feng: "..."
The surrounding crew mbers: "..."
Zhao Yingfei, who was scrambling to get up from the ground, trying to lower her presence, stumbled upon hearing this, nearly falling back down.
She hurriedly lowered her head, using her hair to cover her face, which didn't know whether to cry or laugh, and her ears, red enough to drip blood.
The entire great tent once again fell into an even eerier dead silence than before.
Qin Feng felt he wasn't facing a young actor with limitless potential.
Rather, he was facing a completely new breed in the industry, one that couldn't be asured by common sense, fundantally a different species from ordinary mortals like them.
Qin Feng looked at Jiang Ci's utterly sincere face, then glanced at Zhao Yingfei in the distance, who was rapidly regaining her cool composure, pretending to be air, though her slightly trembling shoulders betrayed her.
A powerful doubt about his own professionalism arose for the first ti in this Film Emperor's heart.
The performance philosophy he had believed in for decades seed so... pale and powerless before the simple, unadorned truth of "don't delay everyone's off-duty ti."
He muttered to himself, his voice so low only he could hear.
"Could it be..."
"That this is the highest realm of thod acting?"
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