Chapter 31: Bewitching the Court

After reading 《The Queen’s Plaything》, Cheng Jinzhi understood: it was a lesbian novel. The tribal little princess Bai Qian in 《The Queen’s Plaything》 was the same Bai Qian she was cross-dressing as. Wang Zhang had found a loophole, passed censorship, and didn’t offend the novel’s fans.

Impressive.

《The Queen’s Plaything》, the drama version was 《Beauty of Rivers and Mountains》. The story line wasn’t much changed: the Eastern Han’s Eldest Princess Liu Changxi and the Western Regions’ tribal little princess Bai Qian became the drama’s Hua Han Eldest Princess Liu Changxi and Western Dai prince Bai Qian. Compared to the novel’s semi-historical setting, the drama was fully fictionalized. Recently, too many historical dramas had been recklessly adapted, so the higher-ups had issued a tacit rule: either be realistic, or be entirely fictional—turn a blind eye either way. 《The Queen’s Plaything》 was over three million characters, serialized for nearly three years, with a huge fanbase. Cheng Jinzhi looked at the web version; scrolling down, the red-locked chapters were dense, nearly flooding the screen.

Why were so many locked? Digging into the comments, Cheng Jinzhi learned: it contained extremely explicit sex scenes. Only after signing the contract did Director Wang Zhang give her the full version of the script. The earlier script had been relatively clean; this later one made Cheng Jinzhi’s wrist tremble as she read.

“There will be deletions, and naturally there won’t be this many explicit scenes.” Director Wang Zhang, seeing Cheng Jinzhi’s expression, patted her shoulder again. “This script was personally written by the original author. She rushed a week’s worth of manuscript to tailor some extra scenes for you two. Take a look.”

…Cheng Jinzhi suddenly really wanted to meet the original author. When the promo came out, the author had been extremely excited, promoting it several times. Now Cheng Jinzhi knew what she was excited about.

《The Queen’s Plaything》 told the story of the Eastern Han’s Eldest Princess Liu Changxi, from supporting to overthrowing the child emperor, changing the era name and proclaiming herself emperor, unifying the land. Interspersed was her love-hate entanglement with the tribal little princess Bai Qian. The novel opened with Bai Qian’s Haker tribe being defeated and her being captured by the Eldest Princess. The script didn’t change all that; in the end, the Eldest Princess still became emperor. It was just the ending that had several directions. In the novel’s ending, the two weren’t together. The Eldest Princess fought wars for years, plagued by illness, and died in the palace two years after unifying the land. The drama’s direction left plenty of room for audience imagination.

The month before filming started nearly scrambled Cheng Jinzhi’s brain. Twenty-four hours a day on set, sixteen hours filming, the remaining eight hours in makeup. She could only sleep during makeup, and eating and using the bathroom required applying to the director. The first stretch was to rush the promo; the latter was to grab an airing slot. Director Wang Zhang was also bursting with energy—even more relentless than Yi Yi, absolutely self-driven.

The entertainment industry’s workload was intense. To maintain their state, many chose self-hyping to stay pumped. Like on weekend nights, Wang Zhang would call her and Rong Si to go sing karaoke. Wang Zhang could party all night and come back to film the next day.

In the first month, besides the intensity, there was also the tone of the scenes. These past few days’ scenes were angsty, requiring building a lot of emotion. Crying scenes were fine—the hard part was you couldn’t cry; you had to build that teary-eyed, pale-faced emotion.

This scene was Rong Si’s Queen proclaiming herself emperor and wanting to take Cheng Jinzhi’s Bai Qian as King Consort.

“You won’t stay by my side?” Rong Si sat high on the dragon throne, gripping the armrest, one hand tightly clutching her sleeve.

“Your Majesty, you cannot!” The officials all knelt, some veteran officials weeping.

Cheng Jinzhi’s Bai Qian had long been prostrate on the ground, hands flat. The camera zoomed in; his little finger trembled. Rong Si rose from the dragon throne. A palace attendant came to support her, but she waved them off lightly. The Queen descended the jade steps, her spine stubbornly straight, yet the hand clutching her sleeve trembled slightly—seeming unwilling to believe that this bedmate of hers had dared defy the decree at court.

“Your Majesty… how can the hundred-year foundation of our Hua Han…” As the Queen descended, the veteran official kneeling on the ground scurried to her feet.

“All of you, get out.”

“Your Majesty…”

“Guards! Whoever defies the decree dies!”

After the ministers withdrew and the attendants closed the doors to the hall, Rong Si spoke. Compared to her earlier harshness, her tone retained authority but carried concession. “I am now the Son of Heaven. You need not concern yourself…”

“Your subject is a wanderer, content to serve the Eldest Princess…” Cheng Jinzhi’s voice was hoarse as she held the line. “But your subject cannot be Her Majesty’s sinner, bewitching the court.”

“You Western Dai criminal—you want to be a meritorious minister of my Hua Han?” Rong Si snorted, her tone perfectly controlled. She paused, paced a few steps around Cheng Jinzhi, her voice trembling slightly. “I ask you once more… are you willing to wed me?”

Bai Qian was silent. The Queen flicked her sleeve. The camera pulled back as the Queen ascended the steps. She paused on one step, Bai Qian still prostrate on the ground. Wang Zhang waved her hand inward, pulling one lens to the left. The left lens caught the profiles of Rong Si and Cheng Jinzhi. The Queen’s fury inverted into a laugh. She lowered her head, her chin trembling slightly. “Guards! Put the Western Dai criminal in the water dungeon.”

“Your humble subject thanks Your Majesty for the grace.” Cheng Jinzhi’s forehead knocked lightly against her own fingers; the lines of her profile in restraint were excellent.

“Cut.” Wang Zhang rolled up her script and tapped her palm. “Good. Next scene.”

Cheng Jinzhi was done for—she’d knelt too many times these days, exhausted. She flipped over her hand and knocked her forehead against her palm. No more, she was curling up on the floor for a little while.

Rong Si walked over and scooped up this salted fish known as Cheng Jinzhi. “The floor’s too hard. Let me carry you to a stool.”

“I’ll walk myself…” Cheng Jinzhi quickly stopped her. The set had people coming and going.

“Mm.”

At that point, someone came to help Cheng Jinzhi out of her costume. Rong Si had already taken off hers, down to a white underrobe.

Sitting on the stool, Cheng Jinzhi drank some water. She glanced at Rong Si beside her, who was reading. The weather was already getting hot, and Rong Si not only had to wrap herself in heavy court robes, sometimes armor too. Standing in the sun for hours, the armor would get hot to the touch—let alone Rong Si stewing inside it. On the first day of sun exposure, Cheng Jinzhi had laughed at Rong Si. Stripped of her armor, Rong Si was like a boiled shrimp—her cheeks and skin all flushed red from the heat. Cheng Jinzhi’s costume was also heavy, but compared to Rong Si, much lighter. Probably due to character design: Hua Han had elaborate clothing, while Western Dai, a nomadic people, wore lightweight garments. In the script, Rong Si’s Queen favored Bai Qian, so she didn’t impose clothing requirements—letting him wear his own nation’s attire.

“The next scene is lighter, a break for you two.” Wang Zhang said.

“Good.” Rare to get an easy scene.

But looking at the set arrangement, Cheng Jinzhi had a bad feeling… white sheer gauze, an antique-style grand bed…

“You two know each other so well privately. This should be a breeze, right?” Before filming, Wang Zhang reminded Cheng Jinzhi.

…In all this time of filming, this was the first bed scene. It wasn’t the first time the Eldest Princess and her plaything had done this, though. The first time had been in a military tent—not yet filmed. Seeing the tent set, Cheng Jinzhi had rolled her eyes. An indulgence of the author’s perverse tastes? In this scene, Rong Si wasn’t yet Queen—it was early-story. Both characters didn’t need to be tense.

Cheng Jinzhi pressed down on Rong Si, thinking she was at least cross-dressing as the male role, right? But the script still…

The scene was quite aesthetic, with wind machines and sheer curtains flowing together.

Cheng Jinzhi stroked Rong Si’s cheek; her kiss landed on it. The camera light shifted, moving outside the gauze to shoot the silky silhouettes within. Rong Si’s eyes were closed, her lips curved in a smile, seemingly relishing Cheng Jinzhi’s touch. A Rong Si like this made Cheng Jinzhi swallow. Rong Si rarely showed this “relaxed” state in front of her. Cheng Jinzhi’s hand danced over Rong Si’s skin, trailing all the way to her inner thigh. The moment she reached it, Rong Si’s long, straight legs gently trapped Cheng Jinzhi’s hand. She wrapped her arms around Cheng Jinzhi’s neck, long hair falling from her shoulders, and bit Cheng Jinzhi’s lip.

In this scene, no tongues were required. But Cheng Jinzhi felt her brain losing control. Kissed by Rong Si, her tongue accidentally swept Rong Si’s lips. The instant it did, Rong Si flipped them over, pinning Cheng Jinzhi underneath. Their fingers interlocked; Rong Si propped herself above Cheng Jinzhi.

The camera focused on Rong Si on top, unbuttoning her clothes. Cheng Jinzhi unconsciously clutched the bedding.

The clothes fell to the floor. Silhouettes overlapped and entwined.

“Cut.” Director Wang Zhang looked delighted.

At “cut,” Rong Si immediately got off Cheng Jinzhi, returning to her usual self, arms crossed over her chest. Only the flushed marks on her shoulders betrayed the scene they’d just filmed. Cheng Jinzhi averted her eyes. Remembering Rong Si’s earlier “kindness” to her, she picked up the clothes from the floor and handed them over.

“Thanks.” Rong Si dressed quickly.

Two days later, Cheng Jinzhi headed to the set, thinking since Rong Si had scenes too, she’d call her along. She’d just gotten out of the car, phone in hand, when she spotted Rong Si at the bottom of the apartment building—along with a group of… seemingly debt collectors.

“Miss Rong, it’s not that we don’t respect you, but the young master Rong owes us too much.”