In the days that followed, Lin Zixi continuously sank into a surreal sense of absurdity. And this absurdity seemed to let her find the similarities between herself and the Beauty from Calamity Nation, allowing her to fully immerse herself in the character’s emotions in the story’s later stages.
The King was incomprehensible. In the Beauty’s eyes, she was a complete madwoman from head to toe.
As the King bearing the fate of all her subjects, she lived freely and recklessly, her gaze so indifferent that it held no regard for anyone’s life.
As the King leading her people, she wielded absolute power yet harbored not a single thought for her citizens. Instead, she swung her butcher’s blade, turning the court into utter chaos.
She was muddled, incompetent—a monarch who would be reviled as shameless in the historians’ brutal pens, spat upon by all.
The Beauty knew that such a King would only hasten the downfall of this rotting dynasty. It wouldn’t even take long before the King tumbled from her lofty throne along with the dynasty’s collapse.
This was a King utterly devoid of merit, one no one could ever like. And yet, against all reason, the Beauty fell for her.
Such admiration felt profoundly absurd to the Beauty.
The one she adored was the muddled, tyrannical monarch in the eyes of the world. But this very person warmed her with a fiery embrace at night; she wielded her sword to shield her amid a thousand curses; she bestowed everything she could give.
Even though their story began with cruel coercion. But those irreplaceable moments of tenderness, like a muddy quagmire, gradually swallowed the Beauty whole.
This love sprouted in the dark swamp and would never break through the soil toward the sun.
The Beauty’s love was so restrained, so hidden, that she never even noticed the growing confusion and doubt in the Mad King’s gaze toward her.
She struggled on the edge of agony, growing ever more despairing of this budding affection. Until finally, on every night she brought poisoned wine to the Mad King, the Beauty secretly downed double the dose herself afterward, quietly awaiting the end of this ill-fated love with the King.
In this absurdity, she acknowledged her feelings for the King. And in her torment, she realized they could never be together in this lifetime.
Because she had fallen for a madwoman. How could a madwoman, who didn’t even understand how to live, comprehend what love was?
Soon, the King’s kingdom met its end.
The power-hungry ministers who had orchestrated everything from the shadows petitioned the heavens and raised armies to overthrow the muddled, tyrannical King.
The dynasty’s forces crumbled at the first clash, and soon enemy troops besieged the city.
The once-bustling Royal Palace stood empty. The King, clad in her ceremonial robes, sat poised on her high throne, gazing at the smoke rising beyond the palace gates, her eyes calm as she stroked the sword across her lap.
In the wreckage of the palace halls, the Beauty glided forward in flowing white robes and knelt before the King, raising a cup of wine in a distant toast.
The King looked at her in surprise. “How come? You’re not leaving?”
The Beauty lifted the tray’s wine cup above her head. “I won’t leave. I’m here to see you off, Your Majesty.”
The King gazed thoughtfully at the Beauty kneeling in the grand hall, pondering for a long moment before gripping her sword and descending the jade steps.
She reached out, took the cup from the Beauty’s tray, toyed with it in her hand, and said, “Fair enough. It’s time for farewells. You’ve put heart into this.”
With that, the King tossed her head back and drained the cup. As she finished, she let go—clink—and the jade cup shattered on the floor.
At the sound, the Beauty’s grip tightened on the tray.
The King bent down, helped the Beauty to her feet, and gazed at her plain face with a smile. “Why are you so plainly dressed today?”
The Beauty lowered her eyes, not daring to meet the King’s gaze, and said softly, “Because Your Majesty is about to die. I’m here to see you off.”
The King chuckled. “Then you should have dressed more vibrantly. You know how I love a dazzling beauty.”
As she spoke, she drew the Beauty into her arms and slowly walked toward the palace gates. “But like this, so pure and simple today, you look beautiful too.”
The King paused, then smiled and said, “I’m glad to see you.”
“But don’t linger too long. I fear you’ll never forget.”
She held the Beauty close, her expression exceedingly tender. “Hurry and go. There are a thousand people outside the palace who want me dead. Soon, this place will be drenched in blood.”
“If you’re even a moment later…”
Nestled in her arms, the Beauty looked up at the King’s gentle face, her eyes gradually welling with tears. As she gazed, a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, trailing slowly along her jawline…
The King, with her keen senses, looked down. Upon seeing the blood at the Beauty’s mouth, she revealed her first-ever look of helplessness.
She raised a hand, carefully cupping the Beauty’s cheek. “You drank from that cup too, didn’t you?”
The Beauty met her eyes, tears streaming down, but said nothing.
The King scooped her up horizontally. Staring at the blood on her lips, her vision began to blur. “Why bother? This isn’t worth it.”
The Beauty raised a hand, slowly wiping the blood from her mouth, revealing a radiant smile the King had never seen. “It is.”
Stunned by that smile, the King’s steps faltered as she crossed the palace gates, and she collapsed to her knees before them.
Blazing sunlight poured down before the gates, so brilliant it hurt to look.
The King leaned over the woman in her arms and let out a light laugh. “Those fools outside are all idiots. Why need a thousand troops to kill me? A single smile from my beloved consort, and I’d gladly die.”
The Beauty slowly raised a hand to wipe the blood from the King’s mouth, tears in her eyes as she said, “But Your Majesty, you’re someone it’s hard to smile for.”
The King nodded repeatedly. “I know. I know everything.” She knew her love, her hatred, and most of all, that every cup of wine had been poisoned.
The poison had ravaged the Beauty’s organs. Leaning in the King’s embrace, she reached up to caress the King’s cheek.
She called out, “Your Majesty… Your Majesty…”
The King bent close, her ear to the Beauty’s lips, listening. The Beauty’s voice was faint as a thread: “In the next life, don’t…”
The King seized her hand, pressing it to her own face, and finished for her: “Meet in winter. It’s too cold.”
Tears brimmed in the Beauty’s eyes and spilled over.
“Cut!” came the director’s call, and all of Calamity Nation‘s scenes officially wrapped.
Yu Ming watched the two embracing in the middle of the set, wiping at nonexistent tears. “What a tear-jerking love story!”
He even flashed a thumbs-up at Lin Zixi in the center. “Lin’s acting is phenomenal!”
The Lin Zixi who would usually smile back didn’t turn this time. She simply buried herself in Ye Can’s arms, clutching her costume, sobbing silently.
She was trapped in Gantang’s emotions, unable to extricate herself, gripping Ye Can’s clothes at the chest so tightly she shook all over.
Why… why just a few short years? Why was such a perceptive, intelligent King born into this era?
Why speak of the next life?
There is no next life between us anymore.
She could only clutch the King’s clothes powerlessly, trembling amid suffocating pain as she cried.
Ye Can, holding her tight, felt at a loss upon hearing her broken sobs. She hugged Lin Zixi close, her expression panicked. “Lin Zixi… Lin Zixi…”
Lin Zixi leaned against her, crying uncontrollably, murmuring fragmented words. Ye Can bent down, holding her, and finally made them out.
She was saying sorry.
Lin Zixi sobbed brokenly. “Sorry… sorry…”
“Sorry…”
Sorry, I love you but couldn’t protect you. Sorry, I knew you weren’t a tyrant but killed you anyway. Sorry, I knew you were just ill but never tried to save you.
From beginning to end, I never thought to save you…
Ye Can paused as she understood. She raised a hand, gently cradling Lin Zixi’s head, and sighed softly. “I said it already—I forgive you.”
“You’re… innocent.”
You’ve never owed me anything, never needed to give me anything. This was all my willing choice.
She held Lin Zixi close, coaxing her softly. “Don’t cry, Lin Zixi. It’s just a story.”
“Don’t cry…”
The crew noticed something off with Lin Zixi then. Yu Ming knew she was too deep in character to pull out and hurried over to help Ye Can console her.
As they coaxed her, Jiang Yue arrived too.
Jiang Yue truly hadn’t expected Lin Zixi to immerse herself this deeply. Sighing in admiration, she cooed, “Zixi, it’s over. Filming’s wrapped—everything’s done.”
Lin Zixi, who had just started to calm, froze at those words and cried even harder.
Ye Can shot Jiang Yue a glare and hugged Lin Zixi tighter.
She patted Lin Zixi’s back, coaxing tenderly, “Nothing’s ended. I’m still here. I’m right here, not dead. Don’t cry…”
Jiang Yue’s eyes widened, watching Ye Can comfort Lin Zixi like a little adult. This pair is something else.
It took Lin Zixi a good while to pull herself from Ye Can’s arms. She took a tissue from someone, mumbled a sheepish thanks.
Her eyes still red, she looked at Ye Can’s face and felt something off. She turned to Jiang Yue instead and thanked her.
Lin Zixi wiped her tear-streaked face, her voice hoarse as she tried to compose herself. “Sorry, I lost control. Thank you all for the trouble.”
Worried she’d feel embarrassed, Jiang Yue patted her shoulder. “No worries at all. Getting immersed is normal—it means you’ve got real talent.”
“I’ve cried like this plenty of times myself.”
Lin Zixi nodded, stood, and announced to everyone, “You’ve all worked hard. Filming’s done—dinner’s on me tonight!”
Ye Can sat on the ground, watching her poised and graceful demeanor, and slowly furrowed her brows.
That evening, Lin Zixi indeed treated the entire crew to dinner.
But during the gathering, she mingled among the crowd, deliberately—or perhaps not—ignoring Ye Can.
Ye Can found it baffling, her gut telling her Lin Zixi was avoiding her. On the way back, Ye Can grabbed Lin Zixi’s hand. “Did I do something to upset you?”
To her surprise, Lin Zixi slapped a hand over her face, her voice raspy. “Ye Can, can you just vanish from my sight for two days? I don’t want to see your face right now.”
It seemed she couldn’t shake the role anytime soon.
