That confession spanning ti and space, its lingering warmth had not yet dissipated.
The applause still echoed in their ears.
Yet, just one day later, the atmosphere on Soundstage A had completely changed.
The staff who had been imrsed in the resonance of "Unresolved Injustice" yesterday now wore only the numbness of being wrung dry by high pressure.
Zhang Mouyi demanded that the entire crew enter a "state of war."
The set designers worked through the night, completely transforming the area around the Divine Tree that had witnessed demonic transformation and rebirth into a scene of hell.
Broken walls and ruined pillars lay everywhere, the earth scorched black.
Low-lying smoke created by dry ice drifted in the air, flowing slowly along the ground.
Filming officially began.
Su Qingying stood before the green screen.
According to the script, in the modern era, she used her life as a catalyst to activate the spirit jade, forcibly tearing through ti and space.
Her body would be transford into a stream of light in post-production.
The next second after the cara cut, it would be the ruins of Shangdu.
In mid-air, a model of a spatial rift exploded into existence out of thin air.
Suspended by wirework, Su Qingying fell from the rift several ters high, landing heavily on the ground covered in scorched black soil.
Dust billowed up.
"Cut!"
The wirework technician imdiately stepped forward to unbuckle her safety harness.
Su Qingying did not get up right away.
She lay prone on the ground, coughing violently, each breath shaking her chest.
When she finally pushed herself up, her first reaction was not to search for that figure she longed for with all her heart.
She was completely nailed to the spot by the scene before her eyes.
It was gone.
Nothing was left.
The prosperous Shangdu from her mory, those vibrant lives, had all turned into the scorched earth beneath her feet and the wreckage in the distance.
Her hands trembled uncontrollably.
Su Qingying slowly reached out and grabbed a handful of the black soil from the ground.
Mixed within that handful of soil were long-dried and solidified blood clots belonging to both the demon race and the human race.
The coarse texture and that faint, almost imperceptible scent of blood made her utterly certain.
She was back.
She was truly back.
There was no ecstatic joy on Su Qingying's face, nor any wailing.
An extre micro-expression change, magnified infinitely by the high-definition cara within a few short seconds.
From the bewildernt after traversing ti and space, to the astonishnt of confirming her return, to the horror of witnessing the devastation.
Finally, it was that overwhelming despair of clawing her way back from hell to the mortal world, only to find that the mortal world had already beco hell.
Jiang Ci stood behind the monitor, watching Su Qingying's performance.
This was a top-tier actor.
She conveyed the most complex emotions with the subtlest of movents.
And it was at this mont.
At the other end of the battlefield, wirework lifted Luo Yu into the air.
The Chi Jie he portrayed stood upon a "mountain of corpses" piled from countless prop bodies,
those corpses belonging to the resisting humans, and also to the minor demons who refused to submit.
He sensed sothing, slowly turning his head to look in A Li's direction.
The muscles on his face twitched, pulling into a distorted smile.
He rely waved his hand casually.
A powerful air current created by special effects fans, mixed with smoke, dust, and rubble, swept towards A Li who had just landed.
A Li, with her mortal body, was utterly unable to withstand it.
A Li instinctively raised the Lingxi Bow, but that bow which had once sealed the half-demon king was now fragile and brittle in her hands.
She could only watch helplessly as that storm of demonic power grew larger and larger before her eyes.
Even though there was nothing before her, Su Qingying's performance was terrifyingly real.
It was as if she truly saw the world-destroying demonic power surging towards her, her pupils constricting sharply, instinctively raising her arm to block.
At the critical mont, a dark golden barrier materialized out of thin air before A Li.
"Boom!"
The storm crashed against the barrier with a dull thud.
The smoke and dust dispersed.
That figure slowly walked out from behind the shattered barrier.
Jiang Ci.
No, it was Ye Chen.
He was no longer that flamboyant, lively youth in red robes.
Clad in black garnts embroidered with dark patterns, his long hair unbound, casually cascading over his shoulders.
Around him swirled a layer of thoroughly tad dark golden demonic power.
That power was no longer violent, but restrained, calm, yet more dangerous than ever before.
He had completely changed.
But he did not look back.
From the very mont he appeared, his gaze was locked onto Chi Jie in mid-air,
not sparing even a single glance for the person behind him, the one he had crossed life and death to return to see.
Jiang Ci calculated coolly in his heart that, at this mont, a deep, affectionate look back would only bring brief solace,
while this kind of resolute "not looking back," this silhouette of shielding his beloved behind him while facing hell alone,
was what would maximize the tragic sense of "reunion being parting in death."
He could feel that gaze from behind, mixed with ecstatic joy and despair, pricking his back like needles.
In mid-air, the smile on the face of Luo Yu's Chi Jie froze.
He caught a scent from this "reborn" Ye Chen, an aura powerful enough to threaten him.
Two arch-rivals began their first round of confrontation.
No movent, no lines.
It was a collision of auras.
Luo Yu portrayed Chi Jie's madness, brutality, and that wariness towards the strong to perfection.
And Jiang Ci simply stood there calmly.
He responded to all the other's provocations with a composure bordering on contempt.
A Li watched Ye Chen's back, that back which had appeared in her dreams countless tis.
Tears finally overflowed from her eyes.
She wanted to rush forward, to embrace him, to confirm his existence.
But the mont she took a step, she was gently pushed back by an extrely gentle demonic power, steadily sent to a relatively intact broken wall in the distance.
Su Qingying's performance contributed another highlight at this mont.
She did not struggle, leaning against the broken wall, her body slowly sliding down, collapsing to sit on the ground,
portraying the pain of being so close yet unable to embrace to perfection.
Through the on-set sound headphones, Jiang Ci captured her faint, yet heart-wrenching, intake of breath.
He knew Su Qingying had perfectly caught the "scene" he had thrown to her,
and in her own way, had pushed this mont to a new height.
Behind the monitor, Zhang Mouyi's hand unconsciously clenched.
This was the effect he wanted.
Finally.
Ye Chen spoke.
His voice, reshaped by demonic power, had beco low and magnetic.
"Chi Jie."
"The debt you owe, it's ti to repay."
The mont his words fell.
In the cara fra, sothing slowly trickled from the corner of Jiang Ci's eye.
Not a tear, but blood.
A drop of scalding, crimson blood-tear.
According to the script, this was the ultimate manifestation of the imnse strain the power of full demonization placed on this reshaped body!
Ye Chen was overdrawing his own life force to launch this battle!
Zhang Mouyi imdiately grabbed the walkie-talkie.
"Push! Push in on him!"
"Give a big close-up on his face! Don't stop!"
The cinematographer almost reflexively pushed the cara frantically towards Jiang Ci's face.
That drop of blood-tear slowly trailed down the cold, hard contours of his face,
finally dripping onto the black fabric of his garnt, spreading into a small, dark stain.
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