“Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut! Chi Mu, can you even handle Chen Yuyu? Keep acting like this and I can’t face my bosses!”

After so many retakes, Director Zhang had to admit it. Nana Toki burned too bright; next to her, the rookie Chi Mu looked stiff as dried wood.

“I’m sorry, Director...”

Her apology was genuine, soft as rain on dust. Director Zhang’s temper boiled like a kettle, yet he had nowhere to pour it. In the end, he went to ask Nana Toki not to keep steamrolling Chi Mu’s scenes.

“You want me to stop overshadowing her? Come on, Director Zhang. She’s the female lead. If she can carry the part, who can ‘overshadow’ her?” Her smile hooked like a cat’s claw, and in that costume she was all viper-sleek allure.

Director Zhang swallowed the rest of his words. In his gut, he’d already decided: she was mad Chi Mu had stolen her female-lead slot, so she was pressing her on purpose.

“Ms. Qiao… maybe take five. We’ll shoot a different segment, then come back to this?”

Off to the side, Chi Mu bobbed her head like a reed in wind. Fear hit first, cold and prickly. Even with that cheat of seeing the whole plot, she still couldn’t match a top-tier pro like Qiao Wan.

“A break? Fine. But when I’m back, Ms. Chi, find your character’s emotion. I don’t repeat simple things forever. You’ve got time. I don’t.”

She tossed Chi Mu a look that stuck like a thorn. Then, in black period silk that drank the light, Nana Toki swaggered off set.

No one said much. Those who understood, understood. That line was a slap. She was calling Chi Mu’s acting weak.

Extras chirped on the sidelines like sparrows, wondering how someone with no chops had landed the female lead in Chen Yu Ru Shuang.

That last look from Nana Toki knifed right through Chi Mu. Cold prickled her skin; her face drained. Guilt hit before the thought: this role should’ve been hers in the first place.

She’d taken someone else’s part and couldn’t even do it well. How could the other not be angry?

All afternoon, Chi Mu drifted, mind fogging like heat haze. Even after Nana Toki left, Director Zhang’s roars still cracked through the film base like thunder.

He’d liked Chi Mu at first. A newcomer landing the female lead young—her acting should’ve been decent. But after a handful of scenes? Retake after retake. Not even the same mistake. One moment she blanked on lines. Another, her face froze like a mask. He swore his blood pressure would climb a few ticks by the time Chen Yu Ru Shuang wrapped.

“If we don’t finish this scene today, nobody leaves!”

It was the fiercest heat of the afternoon. Even if Chi Mu snapped back and cleared it in one go, they’d still need half an hour. And that was a fantasy.

The sun beat down like a hammer. Sweat poured; her head swam. One take? Give her ten; she still might not pass.

Next day, after her break, Nana Toki arrived with Shuyao Qin. No sign of the female lead. Extras muttered that the lead had collapsed from heatstroke yesterday and was now resting in a hospital.

“Where’s Director Zhang?” Nana Toki drifted through set and off, but the bullhorn-wielding middle-aged man was nowhere.

“Probably getting chewed out backstage.”

The extra said the higher-ups heard about the heatstroke. Director Zhang was getting a dressing-down right now.

That’s the female lead’s treatment for you. Collapse from the sun, and you still get hospital rest. Who knew which toyboy in her harem upstairs was covering her this time.

With the chief director and the lead both absent, the deputy decided not to stall the schedule. They’d shoot the later fight scenes first.

Nana Toki flipped through the script. As the vicious supporting witch, she’d clash for the first time with the male lead, Chen Ke. Location: a waterfall cliff. With qinggong-style movement in play, they needed wires for the fight.

The deputy fretted. Wire work plus a fight could cramp her movements, and the spray around that waterfall was savage, foam bursting like teeth. He suggested a stunt double. Nana Toki refused on the spot.

Joking? She took this crappy script to pound on the lead couple. And now they wanted a double to take her hits? No chance. She’d hopped worlds enough times. Forget other stuff—hand-to-hand? Rock solid.

“Qiao Wan, this waterfall’s wild. Maybe let the double handle it.” Shuyao Qin peered over the edge and felt her stomach drop. One slip, and even the best case was a serious injury.

“She’s right, Qiao Wan. You’re a girl. You’re delicate. If you bang something up, it could ruin your whole career.” Chen Ke strutted over in costume, voice slick with spite. He’d been outshone in their previous scenes. With the fight today, he wanted payback.

He was a flirt, sure, but he had basics. Especially with fights. He’d trained under a real martial arts master. The eight-pack was standard issue.

And today, Nana Toki had brought along a woman who fit his taste to a T. If he could, he’d put on a show.

“Tch. Who do you think you’re talking down to?” Even in a real one-on-one, she’d tangle with this idiot. “Learned a few half-baked tricks and think you’re invincible? Fight me, then.”

She hated this type the most—two moves and a miracle ego.

She’d planned to bring Shuyao Qin to see her at work, a little sun and spray, a quiet pride. Before cameras even rolled, the male lead idiot had to peacock in front of her.

“Qiao Wan, Chen Ke actually won awards with the Martial Arts Association. And you’re a woman. If you get hurt, it won’t be pretty.” The deputy hadn’t heard of Qiao Wan doing fights before. Worry came easy.

But.

“You can hire a double for my dialogue scenes with Chi Mu. You will not hire one for my fights. That’s professional ethics.”

Nana Toki cut their concern with a blade-thin line. “Let’s settle it with our hands.”

The first beat of the sequence: Chen Ke leaped from the cliff’s lip, plunging toward the falls. In the roar and white veil, He Yuhuan stood midstream, weaving seals and laying a formation.

The deputy didn’t choreograph the bind. He gave them one note. “Keep it tight and even. Make it look like a dead heat.”

Nana Toki had no opinion. Chen Ke did. “Deputy, I’ll be on wires. Hard to control my strength midair. If I land a hit somewhere, I hope Ms. Qiao won’t blame me.”

The subtext was a brick: if something happened, it wasn’t on him. Nana Toki didn’t bother. “You?” A two-word scoff. Paired with that cool, narrow gaze, she was a queen in black, surveying trash at her feet.

Chen Ke’s face went red, then green. In the end, he could only glare daggers and shut up.

“Qiao Wan, be careful...” Shuyao Qin called from the sideline while they clipped the wire harness to Nana Toki. Nerves fluttered like moths.

“I’ll be fine. Watch me.” Nana Toki flashed her a gentle, steadying smile, then waved. She strode to the cliff edge without a backward glance. “Ready. Let’s roll!”

Down on the flats below the falls, the deputy caught the hand signal and lifted his arm. Crew moved like oiled gears.

“Action!”

The bullhorn cracked the air.

Facing each other across the torrent, sword in hand, Nana Toki and Chen Ke moved as one.

Chen Ke’s face set, body posing with textbook precision. From afar, he did look the wandering hero. He sprang, blade singing from the sheath, point lancing for Nana Toki’s throat. His roar rode the water’s thunder. “He Yuhuan! You butcher the innocent, treat lives like weeds! If I don’t kill you today, I can’t face the sect heirs you slaughtered!”

Each word rang with anger, like stones flung against a cliff. As if the black-clad girl in the falls had a feud with him as deep as the abyss.

“Heh. You alone, Du Wenyu, think you can kill me?”

Nana Toki stepped on air over the boiling water, a phantom on spray. Her sword flicked with lazy disdain, and his fierce strike unraveled like mist.

“Begone.”

In that breath, the playfulness bled from her eyes. Killing frost settled in. Her voice was soft and flat, cold as an ice cave swallowing sound. The chill shot up his spine like winter wind.

“Cut!”