This scene wasn’t particularly risqué—they were both fully clothed, not even sharing a kiss—but precisely because of this, that sense of competing desire was even harder to express.

They filmed many takes without achieving the state Wang Cheng wanted, so they had to pause filming.

Wu Man shamelessly went up to ask: “Director, exactly what feels wrong?”

“Too stiff,” Wang Cheng said concisely.

“But Deng Lizhi isn’t good at these things to begin with. Isn’t stiffness expected?”

“Stiffness is only surface level.” Wang Cheng sighed. “How should I put this to you? Every gesture you make carries a kind of pride, because your certainty in your beauty has been carved into your bones. You know that you might only need to lightly crook a finger to gain others’ attention, so under your expression, stiffness becomes disdain. But Deng Lizhi is just an ordinary person. Losing her rationality and throwing herself into seducing a boy so much younger than her—that mindset is completely different. You can’t achieve the right mindset in the earlier parts, so when Chen Nan rejects her later, your shame and anger seem superficial.”

Wang Cheng had made it very clear. He was also tactfully telling her: you’re not sufficiently in character.

Those two days away from the production had undoubtedly affected her. Putting on fancy clothes, donning a mask amid rustling silks and shadows, that familiar sound of camera shutters made her feel grounded. She became Wu Man again, whom she could control freely, rather than that out-of-control Deng Lizhi who shed tears.

The brief separation made her less anxious. She thought she could better control the distinction between character and self.

But she had overestimated herself.

Wu Man felt dejected, but she didn’t have much time to think. Filming quickly resumed.

With her wet bare feet, she walked up to Zhui Ye and raised her head to stare at him.

Just as Zhui Ye was about to speak, Wu Man covered his lips and pushed him onto a single-seat sofa.

Zhui Ye looked shocked, and soon a flush spread across his face.

Because Wu Man’s bare toes were lightly touching his school uniform pants.

The rainstorm outside came rushing fiercely. The bathhouse windows were tightly closed, and the entire room was firmly wrapped in spring’s cocoon—stuffy and humid. They were confined inside with nowhere to escape. His neat school uniform pants developed wrinkles from this touch, like rain falling on a pond, rippling outward, circle after circle.

Wu Man stood before the sofa, lifting one foot from her superior position and slowly sliding it up from his pant leg. As if using his school pants to wipe away the still-wet droplets, leaving very faint water stains. The pale toes with their dark red nail polish against the black school pants were like a soft-bristled brush, recklessly painting without knowing depth or restraint, interweaving desire together.

Compared to the boldness of her actions, her gaze didn’t dare meet Zhui Ye’s at all.

But he looked straight at her, his expression complex, the veins standing out on his arm gripping the armrest.

The young man’s burning Adam’s apple rolled up and down as he called out with difficulty: “Sister.”

After hearing Zhui Ye recite this line, Wu Man’s foot, which was about to step onto the inside of his thigh, slowed its movement, as if hesitating. This time she was more nervous than the previous takes, and because they’d held this position for many takes, her calf inevitably began cramping when she maintained this posture yet again.

Trembling, she lost her balance. Zhui Ye reached out to support her waist and pulled her into his embrace.

Wu Man thus tumbled fluttering into his arms.

This had already deviated from the script’s development, but Wang Cheng didn’t call cut. In his view, the accidental movement of the leg cramp actually created tension in that moment, so he simply quietly allowed the camera to continue rolling.

The cramp didn’t stop. Wu Man fell sitting on Zhui Ye’s lap, one foot still twitching spasmodically. It looked quite comical.

Zhui Ye kept one hand around her waist while the other kneaded her calf, improvising: “Sister, does it hurt?”

She didn’t respond. Following the script, she cupped Zhui Ye’s face with both hands and leaned in, urgently trying to capture his lips.

Zhui Ye hesitated for a moment, leaning back forcefully to dodge.

“…Even you won’t…?”

Here, Wu Man’s emotion should have reached its peak of shame, anger, and self-loathing, but the earlier action had disrupted her rhythm. She was completely mechanically following the script’s movements, her emotions completely disjointed.

Zhui Ye’s hand kneading her calf gave a light pinch. At an angle blocked from the camera, he whispered sharply: “Another NG? It’s just a simple seduction scene. However you usually seduce Yu Jiaze, just seduce me that way. You can do that much, right?”

In the monitor, Wu Man’s thin back jerked violently.

Her lowered hand rose high but abruptly changed direction, instead pushing Zhui Ye hard. From the counterforce, she herself also fell backward off the sofa.

Utterly disheveled and utterly furious, her eyes staring red with rage, she didn’t even care that her leg was still cramping and she couldn’t stand up.

A deathly silence.

“Good! This take passes!”

Wu Man still sat trembling helplessly on the floor. Wei Wei rushed over to help massage her leg, but someone moved even faster.

Zhui Ye crouched down directly, wrapped his arm around Wu Man’s waist, and lifted her up horizontally.

“Getting a staff member to massage will be faster.”

He explained offhandedly, walking toward another massage room amid everyone’s astonished gazes and locking the door.

Wu Man was also stunned for a moment, then struggled against his chest, gritting her teeth: “Put me down.”

Zhui Ye held her with one hand while using the other to lock her flailing wrists. Only when they reached the other room did he release her.

The instant her hands regained freedom, Wu Man delivered a solid slap across Zhui Ye’s face.

She laughed angrily: “Good! I should have given you that just now!”

Zhui Ye made no sound. One hand still rested on Wu Man’s waist, not yet removed. He lowered his head to look at the bloodshot in her eyes, using a very soft tone: “Sister, I’m sorry.”

Wu Man was still trembling, no longer knowing if it was from anger or if the leg cramp still hadn’t improved.

Zhui Ye half-knelt down, grasping her calf and gently massaging it.

“You had already passed the earlier part. If we got stuck on another take, it would be even harder to recapture that state. That’s why I used that method to provoke you. Don’t be angry with me.”

He looked up at her from below, his posture very humble.

Wu Man coldly withdrew her leg, stepped back, crossed her arms over her chest—a completely defensive posture.

“Who do you think you are?”

“Even if you’re a Cannes Best Actor, even if your acting is better than mine, who gave you permission to use such tactless provocation methods against me? That’s your acting method, not mine. No matter what, I still debuted eleven years before you—I’m your senior. I hope you’ll show some respect!”

“And one more thing—don’t let me hear you mention Yu Jiaze’s name in front of me again.”

After Wu Man rattled off this final sentence, Zhui Ye touched his slapped face, his expression gradually growing cold.

He slowly stood up, as if finding it ridiculous, and suddenly laughed: “If you want people’s respect, do things worthy of respect.”

Having said this, he slammed the door with a bang and left.

Wu Man was even more frustrated. What right did he have to challenge her back?!

A few minutes later, there was a cautious knock at the door.

Wu Man said coldly: “What? Didn’t you slam the door loudly enough just now?”

The person at the door paused, then a female voice said weakly: “A gentleman just went downstairs and said your leg cramp hasn’t fully recovered and you need massage service. Is now convenient for you?”

Wu Man’s chest tightened. That ball of rage was clearly still burning, but it was like someone had smothered it with a blanket—it wouldn’t extinguish, but couldn’t flare up either, stuck in between.

The “gentleman who just went downstairs” was obviously Zhui Ye.

They’d just had an argument, yet he was still concerned about her cramp.

“No need, thank you.”

The doorway quieted for a moment, then knocking sounded again.

“…I said no need.”

“Sister Man, it’s me.” Wei Wei’s hesitant voice came through. “Mr. Yu is calling.”

The room fell quiet for a while before Wu Man opened the door and took the phone from Wei Wei’s hands.

She composed her emotions and answered the call.

“Just finished filming?”

Yu Jiaze also seemed to have just finished being busy, his voice very weary.

Wu Man made an affirmative sound: “You seem very tired.”

“Not too bad, just saw some clown’s trending topic. Not very comfortable.”

Wu Man’s heart skipped a beat. She signaled Wei Wei with her eyes to open Weibo’s trending topics. Sure enough, positioned high up were her name and a popular young star’s name: #JiZhouWuMan

Clicking in showed photos from the luxury brand pop-up shop event two days ago, where their positions were next to each other, with the young star looking at her with affectionate eyes. Marketing accounts had also dug up his interview video, where when asked about his ideal type, every point seemed to match Wu Man.