Chapter 28

In the afternoon, Jiang Shuwan finally welcomed the first scene in her life where she wasn’t just a background character: being sold.

The makeup artist had already finished her styling—tattered clothing, a face stained with grime, and a pair of eyes that, after careful enhancement, looked even more clear and defined.

Normally, when she wore glasses, it was hard to tell. But with contact lenses and makeup, Jiang Shuwan’s features instantly became more three-dimensional and refined. Especially her eyes—black and white in stark contrast, so pure they didn’t seem like they belonged in the messy world of showbiz.

Seeing Jiang Shuwan’s appearance, even the notoriously strict Director Luo revealed a satisfied expression and nodded. “Perfect. This is exactly how Ye should be—pure, loyal, betrayed but never betraying.”

Ye was the youngest daughter of the Sect Leader of the number one sword sect under heaven. She had five older brothers and was the most doted upon—innocent and carefree.

Until one day, the Sword Sect’s top disciple colluded with their sworn enemies, the Silver Moon Alliance, and betrayed the sect. Overnight, the Sword Sect was ambushed and annihilated. The brilliant flames raged for three days and nights. The most powerful sect in the world was reduced to ashes, and the parents and brothers who loved her perished in the fire. Only she survived—protected by her kin who used their own flesh and blood to shield her.

From that day on, the always-smiling Ye Xiaoxiao never smiled again.

She stood in the capital’s streets holding a sword, selling herself. Everyone feared the Silver Moon Alliance’s ferocity and treated this last survivor of the once-great sect as if she carried a plague. Only the passing Regent Prince lifted the luxurious frost-silk curtain of his carriage, gave her a light glance, and tossed a gold ingot to bring this little girl back to his residence.

From that moment on, Ye Xiaoxiao cast aside her name and lived only for two things: revenge for her family, and the Regent Prince.

The beginning of the scene was relatively simple. Jiang Shuwan only needed to stand expressionless with her sword on the street. This wasn’t hard for her, especially since she naturally carried the calm and confidence of a top student—something that translated perfectly into the character of a little princess from the number one sect who had endured great trials yet still retained unshakable inner strength.

After all, the world only knew that the Sword Sect’s five young masters were all martial prodigies, but no one knew that in terms of talent and swordsmanship, the youngest—little Six—was the true genius.

Even though her home was destroyed, her pride as a prodigy remained unbroken, and her sword path untouched.

In the latter part of the scene, Ye catches the gold ingot thrown by the Regent Prince, turns to look back toward the ruins of the Sword Sect one last time, then lowers her gaze and follows the most luxurious carriage in the capital—stepping onto the path of no return.

For a newcomer like Jiang Shuwan, conveying the look she gave toward the Sword Sect ruins was the hardest part.

That gaze had to carry so much—love for her family, reluctance to leave the sect, the burden of a deep blood feud, and a certain lightness after making her decision. It could be said that this look marked the dividing line between the two phases of Ye’s life.

But in the end, Jiang Shuwan pulled it off beautifully. Not even a single retake was needed—it passed in one go.

Even Luo Qingyao, known for his extreme strictness, actually praised her, saying she had real talent. He even complimented Wang Youde, who had brought her in, for having a good eye.

Wang Youde knew Luo Qingyao’s temper, so he never mentioned that the producer had instructed special attention be given to Jiang Shuwan. Luo Qingyao simply assumed Wang had discovered a promising talent among the extras.

Since the role was minor, Jiang Shuwan didn’t have any more scenes that afternoon. After removing her makeup and changing her clothes, she slipped back to the set and continued squatting in the corner, watching Ji Hanzhang and Ding Fengjiao’s confrontation scene.

The Regent Prince Qin Xiao and the female lead Su Xiaowei were childhood sweethearts, but Su’s father, Prime Minister Su, was a staunch royalist. From the previous emperor’s reign, he had been wary of the Qin family’s growing power. While Qin Xiao was away gaining experience at the frontier, Prime Minister Su seized the opportunity to marry his daughter off to a prominent southern noble family, forcibly separating the lovers.

However, Su Xiaowei’s husband died of illness two years into their marriage, and she remained a widow living with her in-laws.

As border wars raged, the already-powerful Qin family became even more dominant. Especially the Black Armor Army under Qin Xiao’s command—they rescued the dynasty multiple times. For a while, the people practically only knew of Qin Xiao and forgot the emperor existed.

The late emperor wanted to change this, but with external threats looming, any move against Qin Xiao would have spelled disaster. On top of that, his health was failing. The “eliminate Qin” plan was never carried out—he fell gravely ill first.

On his deathbed, realizing that no one—even himself—could contend with Qin Xiao’s power, and certainly not his teenage son, he wrote a decree appointing Qin Xiao as Regent Prince. He entrusted the dynasty’s future to Qin Xiao’s mercy and died with regret.

With the empire teetering, Prime Minister Su took a leave of absence and traveled south to personally bring Su Xiaowei back.

His intentions were clear—if confrontation wouldn’t work, then they would try to trap the hero with affection.

The scene today was Su Xiaowei’s first meeting with Qin Xiao, now the Regent Prince, after returning to the capital.

Old lovers reunited—one a long-widowed woman, the other a man above all others. Things had changed, their pain too deep for words.

Ding Fengjiao, if nothing else, was a superb actress. She portrayed the conflicted, torn nature of Su Xiaowei—caught between family duty and love—exceptionally well.

The Regent Prince was a complex character, and Ji Hanzhang’s explosive performance pushed the emotional intensity. Ding Fengjiao never faltered and matched his performance perfectly.

Jiang Shuwan, having recently read many related materials, was now watching two powerhouse actors go head-to-head in person—and was absolutely enthralled.

She had strong learning abilities and high comprehension. In addition to books, she had watched many videos and dramas. Back when she and Liang Hao moved through small productions, it wasn’t so obvious—but now, seeing Ji Hanzhang live on set, everything she had studied suddenly clicked into place. Even she could feel her own progress.

During a break, Jiang Shuwan went to the restroom and ran into a sullen-looking Liang Hao on her way back.

She tried to pretend she didn’t see him and walk past, but Liang Hao spoke first: “Shuwan, you acted so well, even Director Luo praised your talent. But before, you were just a background extra—only good at standing expressionless. Did Best Actor Ji and Xia Xiangyang give you special coaching?”

Jiang Shuwan: “…”

For a moment, she didn’t even know where to start.

“Best Actor Ji and Xia Xiangyang did give me some pointers,” she admitted, “but only after I studied books and videos myself, and asked them questions about things I didn’t understand. If that’s what you mean by ‘special coaching,’ then I guess—maybe.”

---

“I mostly rely on self-study—books, videos, films, and dramas are all great learning tools.”

Jiang Shuwan frowned slightly as she looked at Liang Hao and asked a soul-piercing question: “Did you actually study seriously? It’s really not that hard.”

Liang Hao: “…”

In that moment, he felt an inexplicable pressure and didn’t dare answer her question. Instead, he began to self-reflect.

Maybe acting really wasn’t that hard—maybe he was just too dumb?

Otherwise, how could Jiang Shuwan—self-taught for only a few months—have reached a level where even Director Luo praised her?

What Liang Hao didn’t realize was that the pressure he felt was the instinctive dread and awe of a mediocre student facing a top scholar.

And the learning methods of top students… often aren’t suitable for average ones.

*

There were no night scenes that day. After the last scene wrapped, Ji Hanzhang passed by the corner where Jiang Shuwan was squatting. His steps paused slightly, and he said naturally, “Wait for me a few minutes.”

Then he walked quickly toward the makeup room.

Jiang Shuwan was briefly stunned, then realized Ji Hanzhang probably meant she should wait a few minutes so they could return to the hotel together after he changed.

She suddenly remembered—she had her electric scooter now. No need to hitch a ride.

But by the time she thought of that, he had already gone.

Jiang Shuwan considered for a moment—she wasn’t in a rush to return anyway. She might as well wait and find a subtle way to remind Ji Hanzhang to be careful around Ding Fengjiao.

Most people on set had left. Only the production and lighting teams were still working. Jiang Shuwan had nothing to do, so she helped out with some odd jobs.

About ten minutes later, Xiao Zhang came over to get her.

Ji Hanzhang had already changed back into his own clothes. Maybe he was worried she’d waited too long, so his makeup hadn’t even been removed yet.

He had naturally handsome, well-defined features that didn’t need much embellishment. The makeup artist had only made slight adjustments to emphasize the sharpness of the Regent Prince’s persona, since Ji Hanzhang’s natural look had a touch of warmth.

Jiang Shuwan greeted him, then said she could ride her scooter back.

Ji Hanzhang nodded. “Then let’s go together.”

The scooter lot wasn’t far from the parking area, so Jiang Shuwan walked beside him.

Xiao Zhang looked at Jiang Shuwan, then at Ji Hanzhang, and silently slowed his steps to fall behind.

As Ji Hanzhang’s personal assistant, he knew him well—and felt Ji Hanzhang seemed unusually attentive to Jiang Shuwan.

Accompanying her to Shangcun was already bizarre enough. Bringing her to set in the morning, and originally planning to take her back to the hotel too… He’d never seen Best Actor Ji treat anyone this way.

But his boss’s affairs weren’t something a lowly assistant should meddle in.

Still…

[Observing secretly.JPG]

Jiang Shuwan had spent the whole walk trying to figure out how to bring up Ding Fengjiao smoothly. She kept chanting Ding Fengjiao, Ding Fengjiao in her head, but just as they were about to reach the parking lot, Ji Hanzhang suddenly asked:

“What does Miss Jiang think of Teacher Ding’s acting?”

Jiang Shuwan didn’t understand why he suddenly brought that up, but it saved her from awkwardly introducing the topic herself.

“Teacher Ding’s acting is quite good,” she replied.

She glanced at Ji Hanzhang and added tactfully, “I heard she has a lot of connections in the entertainment industry too.”

Ji Hanzhang gave her a deep look and said with subtle meaning, “I’m only working with her. I don’t really concern myself with her private life.”

After a pause, he added, “There are some rumors about her in the industry, but those have nothing to do with us.”

In other words, there would be no further dealings with Ding Fengjiao. Whatever rumors existed, they were just colleagues—it wasn’t worth digging into as long as it didn’t affect filming.

Jiang Shuwan looked at the man beside her, his refined features glowing in the sunset, and thought:

You act like nothing can tempt you, but the problem is—she’s probably hoping to seduce you. Open your eyes, would you? I don’t believe you’re really that detached.

Out loud, she only gave a perfunctory reply: “Mm, yes. It has nothing to do with us.”

Ji Hanzhang: “…”

He was playing the Regent Prince, not Tang Sanzang.

“But I mainly relied on self-study—books, videos, and movies and TV dramas are all great learning resources.”

Jiang Shuwan frowned slightly as she looked at Liang Hao, asking a soul-piercing question, “Did you really study seriously? It’s actually not that hard.”

Liang Hao: “…”

At that moment, he inexplicably felt a sense of pressure. He didn’t dare answer Jiang Shuwan’s question and instead began to reflect on himself.

Maybe acting really isn’t that hard. Maybe he’s just too stupid?

Otherwise, how could Jiang Shuwan, who had only self-studied for a few months, already reach a level that even Director Luo praised?

What Liang Hao didn’t realize was that the pressure he felt was actually the sharp fear and apprehension a struggling student feels in front of a top student.

And sometimes, the learning methods of a top student simply aren’t suitable for someone who struggles academically.

*

There was no night shoot scheduled that day. When the final scene wrapped, Ji Hanzhang passed by the corner where Jiang Shuwan was squatting and paused briefly before saying naturally, “Wait for me a few minutes.”

Then he quickly walked toward the dressing room.

Jiang Shuwan was stunned for a second, then realized that Ji Hanzhang meant she should wait a bit so he could remove his makeup and change clothes before they returned to the hotel together.

She quickly remembered that she had her little electric scooter and didn’t need a ride anymore.

But by the time she realized that, he was already gone.

Jiang Shuwan thought it over—she wasn’t in a hurry to go back anyway, so she might as well wait. It would also give her a chance to subtly remind Ji Hanzhang to be cautious of Ding Fengjiao.

Most of the crew had already left the set. Only the production and lighting departments were still busy. Since she had nothing to do, Jiang Shuwan helped out with some odd tasks.

About ten minutes later, Xiao Zhang came to call her.

Ji Hanzhang had already changed back into his own clothes. Perhaps worried she’d been waiting too long, he hadn’t even removed his makeup yet.

He had great features—handsome and well-defined—and didn’t need much embellishment. The makeup artist had only made minor adjustments to enhance the cold and fierce presence of the Regent character. After all, Ji Hanzhang’s natural features still carried a gentle warmth.

Jiang Shuwan greeted him and then said she could ride her scooter back.

Ji Hanzhang nodded at her words and said, “Then let’s go together.”

The place where the scooter was parked wasn’t far from the parking lot, so Jiang Shuwan walked alongside Ji Hanzhang.

Xiao Zhang looked at Jiang Shuwan, then at Ji Hanzhang, and silently slowed his pace, falling behind.

As Ji Hanzhang’s personal assistant, he knew his boss well and couldn’t help feeling that Ji Hanzhang seemed to treat Jiang Shuwan a little differently.

Just the fact that he had accompanied her to Shangsi Village was already unbelievable. He had specially brought her to the set that morning and had originally planned to take her back to the hotel too… He had never seen the film emperor so attentive to anyone.

Of course, matters of the boss weren’t the business of a wage earner.

But he could…

Observe quietly. JPG

Jiang Shuwan had been thinking for a long time but still couldn’t figure out how to bring up Ding Fengjiao naturally. The entire way, she kept chanting Ding Fengjiao’s name in her heart. Just as they were nearing the parking lot, she suddenly heard Ji Hanzhang ask, “Miss Jiang, what do you think of Teacher Ding’s acting?”

Jiang Shuwan didn’t understand why Ji Hanzhang suddenly asked her that, but it did save her the trouble of awkwardly bringing up Ding Fengjiao out of the blue. “Teacher Ding’s acting is pretty good.”

She glanced at Ji Hanzhang and added tactfully, “I heard Teacher Ding has quite a few connections in the industry too.”

Ji Hanzhang looked at her deeply and said meaningfully, “She and I are just professional colleagues. I don’t really pay attention to her personal affairs.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “There are some rumors about her in the circle, but those have nothing to do with us.”

What he meant was that he wouldn’t be having any further dealings with Ding Fengjiao. Although he had heard a bit here and there, they were merely coworkers, so there was no need to dig deeper—as long as it didn’t affect filming, it was fine.

Jiang Shuwan looked at him—his refined and striking features glowing in the sunset, his temperament extraordinary—and thought to herself:

[You may look like a serene monk untouched by worldly desires, but the problem is—most people will still feel tempted by appearances. You’d better open your eyes and take a good look at her. Don’t tell me you’re really blind to it all.]

But she just replied half-heartedly, “Mhm, yes, it has nothing to do with us.”

Ji Hanzhang: “…”

He’s playing the Regent, not Tang Sanzang.