Soon, mid-October arrived.
The Dongshan Crew left Qingbo Film City and marched toward the vast grassland.
October in the north had already been swept by a biting northern wind. The grasslands, scoured by the gusts, showed patches of withered yellow, giving them a desolate air.
Lin Zixi huddled in her white down jacket, bracing against the bleak autumn wind as she stood beside Ye Can, listening to Guan Shengkai’s instructions together.
After arriving on the grassland, the heavy scenes fell mostly on Ye Can. Every day, she spent more time on set than before.
In the frigid northern wind, Guan Shengkai wrapped himself in a thick military coat and held the script as he said to Ye Can, “You’re a monarch—a young monarch, but one with a strong sense of responsibility. You’re willing to sacrifice yourself for your people, offering yourself to the devil, and that’s why you die. Got it?”
Ye Can, draped in her down jacket, let the howling wind lash her face. She nodded expressionlessly.
She got it, sure, but acting it was another story. Ye Can had originally been an irresponsible ruler. Now, suddenly playing one willing to sacrifice for the people? She couldn’t immerse herself in it at all. That was why this scene, from morning until now, had required several NGs without a pass.
Guan Shengkai rolled up the script and smacked his palm with it slap slap, frustration evident as he said, “If you get it, then do it! More hatred in your expression, more passion, more like a youth—protecting your people fiercely. Don’t look so half-hearted, like you’re already dead and don’t care!”
“I’m telling you to think about living, not give off the vibe that you’re fine with dying anyway!”
Country’s fallen, the monarch’s trussed up like the big bad villain’s prey, Ye Can thought. No way out anyway, we’re all dead—so why bother fighting so hard to live?
That was what she thought, but she knew the scene had to be played that way. Ye Can nodded and said again, “I understand.”
Guan Shengkai felt she didn’t get it at all and sighed inwardly. His gaze flicked to Lin Zixi nearby, and inspiration struck. “If Miss Lin were in danger, what would you do?”
Ye Can blinked, looking at him. “Of course, I wouldn’t let her be in danger.”
Guan Shengkai nodded knowingly. “In other words, you’d protect her, right?”
Ye Can frowned, thinking he was stating the obvious. She shot back, “What else?”
Guan Shengkai nodded. “Then for the next take, imagine a bunch of people chasing down Teacher Lin, and you’re doing everything to save her. Got it?”
Ye Can thought the analogy was downright bizarre. Chasing down Lin Zixi? Could those guys even take her?
But thinking about it that way, she actually started to get into it.
He sent Ye Can off to warm up and prepare for the next shot. Ye Can and Lin Zixi headed to the rest area, where Lin Zixi poured her a cup of hot water. “Warm your throat first.”
Ye Can took the cup and sipped it, looking at Lin Zixi. “The wind’s so strong—are you cold?”
Lin Zixi stuffed her hands in her pockets and shook her head. “Didn’t you tell me to bundle up this morning? I did. Don’t worry, I’m not cold.”
Ye Can eyed her wind-reddened nose and said with heartache, “Should’ve had you go with Jiang Yue. The weather here’s awful. Your health isn’t great—if you get sick, what then?”
As November approached, the highly anticipated Starlight Awards were about to kick off—the annual season when film companies divvied up the awards.
Thanks to the massive hit of Limbo Inn 2 earlier in the year, Jiang Yue was undoubtedly attending the Starlight Awards. The show had racked up plenty of nominations, including heavy-hitters like Best Actress, Best Original Screenplay, Best Newcomer, and Best TV Series.
As the screenwriter, Lin Zixi should have gone with Jiang Yue. But Ye Can’s shooting schedule was brutal, out here in the north’s harsh weather, and she couldn’t bear to leave her. So she’d turned down the invitation.
Two days ago, Jiang Yue and Meng Zhiqiu had flown back to Haicheng, which hadn’t fully cooled yet, for the Starlight Awards.
At first, Ye Can was thrilled to have Lin Zixi by her side. But after the cold front hit, seeing Lin Zixi vulnerable to the chill made her regret it.
She frowned, conflicted. “After today’s scenes, maybe don’t come out with me anymore. Stay in the hotel and enjoy the AC.”
Lin Zixi tilted her head up at her, eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re exaggerating. Back when I did bit parts, I jumped into icy water in the dead of winter and survived just fine—no need to baby me.”
Seeing Ye Can’s pleading look, she added, “Besides, I’ve been working out for ages. My body’s way better now. No need to worry.”
Ye Can breathed on her cup, brows furrowed. “When did that happen?”
Lin Zixi smiled. “Before I was twenty. During breaks, I’d run to sets—they paid decently.” Teasing Ye Can, she joked, “Jiang Yue was a no-name actress then, playing a minor supporting role. We were on the same crew—I was her maid, and we jumped into the water together.”
The female leads back then didn’t like Jiang Yue and targeted her, complaining to the director that her water scene sucked, forcing multiple takes. Lin Zixi, as her maid, jumped in too.
After a few rounds, their lips were purple, and the moment they climbed out, the two girls huddled together, shivering like leaves.
They weren’t close then, but the cold was unbearable—they ended up clinging for warmth without thinking.
Lin Zixi knew she’d gotten dragged in, but during the next shoots, she showed no resentment toward Jiang Yue. The next day, when she spotted Jiang Yue powering through a fever, she even took her to the hospital for an IV.
After that, they swapped contacts. But their paths diverged over the next few years, and they lost touch—until reuniting on Jiang Yue’s breakout palace intrigue drama. That’s when they slowly became friends.
One in front of the camera, one behind—they churned out hit after hit, cementing their place in the industry.
In Jiang Yue’s words, that winter water was terrifyingly cold.
She had to climb up, never to feel that bone-chilling cold again.
Lin Zixi breathed out a puff of cold air and smiled at Ye Can. “But that’s all in the past. Compared to then, just a cold wind is nothing.”
She patted Ye Can’s shoulder. “Nail it in one take later. Wrap early, and I won’t have to freeze.”
Looking into Ye Can’s eyes, she grinned. “Plus, you’re barely dressed—gotta shed the jacket for the scene. If you drag it out, I’ll worry about you catching a cold.”
Ye Can’s gaze locked on her face, lips pursed. “You know I don’t get cold.”
Lin Zixi straightened her collar, gazing at the totem-painted face. Softly, she said, “Not getting cold doesn’t mean you won’t get sick. And your period’s coming soon—what if the cramps hit hard again?”
She sighed, cupping Ye Can’s face. “Young lady, take care of your body. Don’t wreck it like this, or what if you burn out too young?”
Ye Can felt the cool little hands on her cheeks and mumbled, “If I burn out, it won’t be from this.”
They bantered a bit longer until a staffer called Ye Can to prepare. She left with a cold face.
Lin Zixi watched her back and called, “Ye Can!”
Ye Can turned. “Yeah?”
Lin Zixi flashed a fist-pump gesture, smiling. “You got this!”
Ye Can’s mood lifted instantly. Her eyes curved into a brilliant smile. “Of course.”
For my beloved consort, I’ll give it everything, naturally.
Once everything was set, Ye Can shed her down jacket, revealing her thin costume. She stood before the camera with the extras, awaiting the director’s command.
After confirming all departments were ready, Guan Shengkai raised the megaphone against the wind and shouted, “Action!”
After the Xia Dynasty sacrificed the lives of a small nation’s people to open the sea passage to the Flame Continent, they pressed forward relentlessly, slaughtering all the small tribal nations there.
On the banks of the Elma River stood the Water Immortal Country, a beast-taming realm. But yesterday, fiery arrows blotted out the sky, engulfing it. That day, meteors fell in broad daylight, flames ravaged the earth, and life was reduced to ashes.
The Xia Dynasty claimed a great victory and held a heavenly sacrifice.
Three thousand soldiers led wild wolves to encircle over ten thousand Water Immortal captives, herding and slaughtering them to complete the rite.
Among them was the Water Immortal Country’s young king—Cang Tong.
All the able-bodied men surrounded their youthful sovereign in a protective ring. Outside that, Silver Wolves—leashed by the Xia soldiers—clawed the ground with their forepaws, glaring hungrily at the defiant Water Immortal folk.
Dong-dong-dong…
Distant war drums thundered. The guard captain, his hands shackled, crossed them before him gravely. “They’re here…”
As the drums grew nearer, a silver line appeared on the vast horizon.
The earth trembled violently. The guards’ faces grew graver. The young king in the center grew anxious.
A massive Silver Wolf led the pack, driving the scattered Water Immortal people straight toward the grassland’s heart.
“Form up—prepare!” the ragged guard captain bellowed. All the guards shielded Cang Tong, assuming defensive stances.
In the next instant, the colossal Silver Wolf barreled toward the encirclement like a mountain.
“Ah!” Its giant paw swiped, shredding the outer soldiers into bloody pulp. Gore sprayed across every face.
Cang Tong looked up at the wolf, bigger than a hill, meeting its ice-blue eyes.
Their gazes locked. Cang Tong’s pupils shrank—she instantly knew it was coming for her.
This Silver Wolf wanted only her; the other soldiers weren’t appetizing. Realizing this, Cang Tong shouted at it, “I’m right here!”
The words barely left her mouth when the Silver Wolf’s massive paw slammed unhesitatingly toward her position.
At the critical moment, Cang Tong leaped three zhang high like a nimble beast. Dragging her chains, she bolted headlong into the depths of the grassland without looking back.
