The makeup artist nearby saw Ye Can’s attitude and chuckled lightly, handing over the eyebrow pencil in her hand. “Since the King insists on personally painting her Beauty’s brows, we’ll step aside.”
Earlier, Ye Can’s antics in the photography studio had left many convinced that her relationship with Lin Zixi was more than a little ambiguous. The crew members who’d been around for half a month had already heard all about Ye Can’s exploits—most figured she was just some rich kid playing at acting.
There were even rumors that she was a relative of a big-shot investor, here in the crew to chase after Lin Zixi.
The makeup artist had heard her share of such gossip. Now with Ye Can playing the Faint Lord, everyone was in a matchmaking mood, happy to let Ye Can have her way with Lin Zixi.
The stylist doing Lin Zixi’s hair even teased, “Your Majesty, should we leave the Beauty’s hair to you as well?”
Her tact delighted Ye Can. Ye Can glanced up at the stylist standing behind Lin Zixi, her long brows arching slightly. “Then leave it be—I’ll handle it.”
“Sure thing!” The stylist agreed cheerfully, letting Lin Zixi’s cascade of dark hair tumble down over her shoulders.
Lin Zixi noticed the stylist’s move and laughed helplessly. “You’re all just indulging her like this? Isn’t this delaying work?”
The makeup artist grinned. “This little bit of time? It’s nothing.”
Lin Zixi turned to Yu Ming. “Director, you’re not going to say anything?”
Yu Ming held up his camera and flashed her an OK sign. “We’re filming! We’re filming! Behind-the-scenes footage is gold—we don’t mind the delay.”
Everyone was firmly on Ye Can’s side. Lin Zixi sat in the chair, lowering her gaze to Ye Can as she compromised: “If you’re going to play around, make it quick. Don’t hold up work.”
Given Ye Can’s childlike whimsy, Lin Zixi chalked this up to her just having a burst of playfulness.
Ye Can knelt halfway at her side, holding the eyebrow pencil and looking up at her with a smile in her eyes. “How can you call it playing? I’ll make you look absolutely stunning.”
With that, she lifted the pencil and gently touched it to Lin Zixi’s brow, tracing a light stroke along its natural curve.
Lin Zixi’s brows were slender and elegantly arched, their color faint yet vivid—clear, bright distant mountain brows, exceedingly beautiful.
Her brows like distant mountains laced with indigo, her skin like peaches blooming with smiles, her hair like drifting clouds, her eyes like stars in the night sky.
Ye Can thought this poem fit Lin Zixi perfectly.
She held the pencil, gazing at those familiar brows and eyes, her mind drifting as if back to the distant, frigid Yan Prince’s Palace.
Even if it wasn’t the same brush, Ye Can—who had painted those brows countless times before—still drew them just as beautifully as always.
On the final stroke, Ye Can pulled back her hand. “There, open your eyes.”
Lin Zixi’s brows and eyes curved with a smile. “You didn’t mess it up, did you?”
Ye Can tsked. “As if I’d mess it up.” She handed the pencil back to the makeup artist and reached out. “Give me some lip color—lipstick, gloss, whatever you’ve got…”
The makeup artist understood and passed her a tube of lip gloss. Ye Can wiped her fingers with a tissue, then dabbed some onto her index finger, muttering, “Just needs lip color now, and we’re done.”
She held up her bright red fingertip to Lin Zixi. “Open up—ahh.”
Lin Zixi eyed her finger and frowned. “You could use a little brush. That way it won’t smudge.”
Ye Can ignored her, pinching her chin firmly. “I said open up. No backtalk.”
With that, she swiftly pressed her finger to Lin Zixi’s lips. The warm fingertip met soft lips, and Lin Zixi went rigid.
The spectating crew watched the intimate scene, many of the women swooning with excited grins.
Yu Ming’s camera clicked nonstop, capturing the moment from multiple angles.
Makeup artist Lin Lin filmed it all on her phone, sighing the whole time, “This ship is killing me, I ship it so hard!”
The culprit herself was oblivious to just how suggestive her actions were. She spread the gloss, staining Lin Zixi’s soft pink lips a deep, alluring red, bit by bit.
Lin Zixi sat stiffly, hands clenched in her skirt lap, eyes downcast on the serious girl before her. Slowly, her earlobes began to burn.
It was pure torment, this makeup session. Once Ye Can finished the lips, she stood, steadying Lin Zixi’s shoulders with a laugh. “All done.”
The woman in red robes, with ancient-style makeup, looked every bit the beauty stepped from a painting.
Even the makeup artist couldn’t help but marvel, “This look suits Teacher Lin so perfectly. Your Majesty, have you studied ancient makeup? That brow shape and lip color—you nailed it.”
Hearing the praise eased Lin Zixi’s nerves. Thank goodness, she thought. Ye Can didn’t ruin it with something weird. No wasted effort from the crew.
Ye Can preened with a smug grin. “Of course. I’ve studied it thoroughly.”
She leaned down, gathering Lin Zixi’s waist-length black hair in one hand, muttering softly, “Not as long as before… this’ll be tricky.”
No matter. Ye Can had researched plenty of hairstyles; after studying it a moment, she had a plan.
The stylist saw Ye Can pick up a comb and start brushing Lin Zixi’s hair. “What updo are you going for, Your Majesty?”
Ye Can glanced at her but said nothing, her hands moving gently as she coiled the layers upward.
She styled an intricate cloud bun for Lin Zixi, adorning it with silver pins and floral ornaments. In no time, Lin Zixi appeared before everyone with the elegant cloud coiffure.
Ye Can swiveled the chair so the anciently dressed Lin Zixi faced the mirror, one hand on the chairback as she leaned in by her ear with a smile. “How’s that? Stunning, right?”
Lin Zixi looked up at her strange yet familiar reflection, dazed for a moment. “It looks good… but it doesn’t feel like me.”
Her gaze shifted to Ye Can in the mirror, those black wide sleeves stirring a vague sense of déjà vu, like something from a dream.
She tilted her head up to Ye Can, eyes a bit lost. “You really think this works?”
Ye Can reached out, lightly booping her nose with a smile. “You’re my favored consort. When it comes to beauty, no one in this world rivals you.”
“Trust me—if we really reshoot, it’ll only be with you.”
To others, it sounded like the ravings of a girl in her edgy chuunibyou phase. But this time, Lin Zixi stared at their mirrored embrace and inexplicably agreed.
She met her own eyes in the glass and said words she never thought she’d utter. “Then let’s do it. Ye Can, I’ll give it my all.”
With makeup complete, it was time for the costume fitting photos.
As leads in a feature segment—and both with connections—Director Yu Ming exploited his friends mercilessly.
He shot solo stills of Ye Can and Lin Zixi first, then had them pose together.
In the studio, Lin Zixi sat primly on the throne while Ye Can lounged sideways behind her on the seat, one arm around her waist, the other propping her up as she gazed intently upward.
Their pose was so intimate it drew cheers from the crew. Yu Ming took over from the photographer, camera in hand. “Teacher Lin, relax a bit—look at the lens.”
“Ye Can, hold that pose. More desire in your eyes—desire, got it?”
Lin Zixi, remembering Ye Can was only seventeen, suppressed her throbbing temple vein and snapped, “Director Yu, Ye Can’s underage. Don’t use such risqué words.”
Yu Ming grinned. “Underage is perfect—makes the ship even better!”
Wait, you’re shipping it too?
Long aware Yu Ming was a hardcore yuri fan, Lin Zixi pinched the bridge of her nose in defeat. She sighed at the lens, finally relaxing her expression.
Then Ye Can reached out, taking Lin Zixi’s hand from the throne arm and bringing it to her lips. “Like this, Director?”
As she spoke, Ye Can held Lin Zixi’s hand to her mouth and slipped her index finger between her lips, tongue curling around it.
A warm flick of tongue sent heat through Lin Zixi. She whipped her head around, eyes wide on Ye Can.
Ye Can looked up at her, eyes deep and seductive.
Lin Zixi leaned down, staring at that beautiful face, and the words utterly sensual flashed unbidden in her mind.
Ye Can’s sensuality persisted for the next half hour.
They embraced and entwined, striking pose after pose for the camera. If not for censorship concerns, Lin Zixi suspected the looks-obsessed Yu Ming would’ve had them shoot “art nudes.”
For the final shot, Yu Ming had Lin Zixi in white robes cradling a kneeling Ye Can in her lap.
Ye Can, in red, half-draped over her, bit into Lin Zixi’s collar with mesmerizing eyes.
Lin Zixi gazed at the devastating Faint Lord in her arms, suddenly unsure who was truly the Calamity Nation Beauty between them.
Jiang Yue, fresh from shooting her scene still in makeup, arrived at the studio to this: Lin Zixi kneeling, cradling the Beauty.
Staring at her friend—who looked every bit the aged Faint Lord—Jiang Yue nearly spat blood in shock.
Once Yu Ming called it, Jiang Yue blinked at Lin Zixi rising from the floor. “Wasn’t Ye Can playing You Wang? Why does she look more like the Beauty right now!”
Exhausted from a day of forced fanservice, Lin Zixi just sighed wearily. Ye Can stood then, robes disheveled, long brows furrowed at Jiang Yue. “Got a problem with your king?”
The slender young monarch in loose red wide sleeves revealed straight, delicate collarbones and snowy neck—irresistibly alluring.
Jiang Yue’s eyes lit up at the sight.
That face is destined to blow up!
Enthralled by the beauty, Jiang Yue shook her head. “No, no—just checking in.” She eyed Lin Zixi in her ancient garb, twirling a finger between them. “So… what’s the deal with you two now?”
