Zu Cheng
The next morning, I anticipated finding Yu still unconscious in bed from last night's drinking.
But when I stepped out of the room, the faint smell of broth and soy sauce drifted from the kitchen.
Yu was already there. Wide awake. Sober.
And somehow cooking.
He stood by the stove with a level of focus that looked far too serious for something as simple as noodles. A pot bubbled quietly, and he stirred it with the air of someone handling a delicate experiment.
For a second I just leaned against the doorway, watching in silence. After the disaster of "best out of waste" last time, I had mentally prepared myself for another culinary catastrophe.
Thankfully, today's noodles weren't an experiment.
No strange ingredients.
No mysterious sauces.
No "trust me, this will taste amazing" declarations.
Just simple noodles in a light broth.
And honestly, that alone felt like a small miracle.
Seeing me observing his cooking like a professional judge, Yu glanced over his shoulder and basically growled, "Hey! I can cook normal food too. Moreover, the last dish wasn't actually awful. It tasted just fine."
"Yeah… right. Just fine," I replied dryly.
He clicked his tongue. "Dude, if it really bothers you that much, then you do 100% of the cooking, and I'll just eat."
I considered it for a moment before shrugging. "Honestly? That doesn't sound so bad—if you handle all the dishes and cleaning."
Yu snorted, turning back to the pot. "Just eat what you're served." He gave the noodles another stir before adding, "We've got a lot to finish today."
The way he said it made the casual morning feel a little less casual. The steam from the pot rose between us, carrying the quiet reminder that today wasn't going to be an easy one.
As soon as we finished eating, I took care of the dishes, and not long after, we headed out for our planned location—the Yongding River.
By the time we arrived, Liam and Fei were already there waiting for us. Nearby, we found scattered cameras, bags, and props, indicating their extensive preparation. Without wasting any more time, we jumped straight into the filming schedule.
Today was important.
We had to finish all the remaining scenes somehow. If we didn't, there was no way I'd be able to complete everything before the deadline.
At first, things went smoothly—or at least, that's what I thought.
Now, I'm honestly not so sure what to do.
From the very beginning, whenever I mentioned the kissing scene, I noticed Yu and Fei acting a little uneasy. At the time, I didn't think much of it. I assumed they were just embarrassed because the others were around.
But the longer we worked, the more obvious it became.
Their hesitation wasn't just casual awkwardness.
Eventually, I understood the real problem.
Neither of them had any experience with kissing scenes.
Not even a little.
"But if we cut that part out, they won't look like a married couple at all," I muttered, rubbing my temple. "We need at least one scene."
The plan itself was simple. In theory, it shouldn't have been this difficult.
But even after the fifth take, they were still messing it up.
Sometimes Yu would instinctively tilt his head back at the last moment. Other times Fei would burst into embarrassed laughter before they even got close. And on the rare occasion they actually followed the movement correctly, the whole thing looked painfully stiff—so forced that it broke the illusion completely.
Both of them ended up repeating the same excuse.
"We're new to this."
"We've never done a scene like that before."
Which left me with only one option.
Fake it.
But if we were going to fake it, there had to be a convincing trick behind it.
I stood there thinking for a moment, watching the river flow quietly in the distance. Then an idea surfaced.
What if we slightly changed the story?
Instead of the female lead discovering the final message through the phone, we could show the last seven minutes of memory before death directly. It would only alter the structure a little, but it would still deliver the emotional impact. And more importantly… the kiss could be staged at a different angle.
I had made a decision.
"Alright," I said, clapping my hands once to get their attention.
"We're changing the setup."
Three confused faces turned toward me.
"Yu, take three steps back. Fei, move a little to the right. When I signal the start, you walk straight toward him."
Fei blinked. "Wait… should I actually go to him, or—"
"No," I interrupted, shaking my head. "Don't go directly to him. We're going to make it look like you're on the same line. Just walk parallel."
Liam frowned slightly from behind the camera. "What about the height difference?"
"Good point." I scanned the ground quickly before pointing toward the bags nearby. "Use that stool. Yu, stand on it."
Yu looked at the stool, then at me, clearly skeptical—but he stepped onto it anyway.
Once everything was set, Liam lifted the camera. The quiet sound of the river mixed with the faint rustling of wind through the grass.
I raised my hand.
Action.
Fei began walking toward Yu just as planned. I watched the alignment carefully, my eyes flicking between them and the camera frame.
The moment she reached the exact point I needed, I signaled stop with my hand.
The scene would be completed in two separate parts.
First: her approach.
Second: the kiss.
For the second part, we reset the frame. Fei leaned forward slightly, lowering her head just enough so that from the camera's angle it looked like her lips met Yu's. In reality, they were still a small distance apart.
To the naked eye, the trick was obvious.
But through the lens—
It worked perfectly.
With a small edit later, no one would be able to tell that they weren't actually standing on the same line. The illusion would look natural enough for the audience to believe the moment completely.
I exhaled quietly, watching the playback on Liam's camera.
At least this way, the scene might finally work.
After we put both parts of the scene together, the result looked surprisingly natural. The transition between the approach and the kiss blended smoothly, and from the camera's perspective, there was no visible gap at all. Anyone watching it would assume it was filmed in a single take.
Even Liam replayed the footage twice before nodding in approval.
And somehow, from that moment onward, Fei's tone toward me changed.
Earlier she had been addressing me casually, the way she did with everyone else. But now, whenever she spoke to me, she started calling me "Brother Zu."
The shift was subtle, but noticeable.
Honestly, I hadn't expected that at all. I only came up with the trick because we were running out of time. But it seemed she genuinely appreciated the idea of faking the scene instead of forcing her into something she clearly wasn't comfortable with.
Yu, on the other hand, reacted very differently.
For some reason, he stayed quiet the entire time. Even while we packed up the equipment, even during the ride back.
Normally he would complain about the workload or keep things lively. But today, he barely said a word until Liam finally dropped us off at home.
The moment I locked the front door behind us, Yu finally spoke.
"How did you come up with that idea?"
I blinked, slightly taken aback. "Uh… it just came… to mind?"
He leaned against the wall, watching me with a thoughtful expression. "Then how are you going to show that it's a memory and not the phone scene?"
"Well, that part's easy," I said, shrugging. "Since I'm voicing both versions anyway, I can just adjust the narration. I'll remove the scene where she reaches for the phone and let the voice-over imply it's a memory instead."
I paused for a moment before narrowing my eyes at him. "But what's gotten into you?"
Yu shook his head lightly, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his lips.
"Oh, nothing," he said. "I was just thinking…"
He pushed himself off the wall and walked past me.
"I've had a genius friend this whole time," he added casually. "And I'm only discovering it now."
For a second, I just stood there, unsure whether that had been a compliment or another one of his strange remarks.
Later that night, I sat in front of my laptop, going through the footage again while editing the scenes. Most of the work was already done. I was only polishing the final transitions and preparing the credit sequence before submitting.
Finally, I remembered, Xian Fei. Why the name felt so familiar.
She was the other mysterious actress who had once played a significant role in exposing the dark politics inside the STAR industry. She had been harassed by management and pressured into silence—but instead of backing down, she spoke up publicly.
And she did it on the very same day Mei died.
The coincidence felt too sharp to ignore.
Which meant…
If she were really the same person, then I might have an ally, someone who understood the system from the inside. Someone who might help me when the time came to save—
No.
I shook my head.
I can't involve any victims in my plan.
But still...
Building connections is a whole different story.