"Are you alright?" The newcomers were a man and a woman. The man was the production coordinator Xu Shulou had met the day before, while the woman was a stranger. Both stared around in shock before snapping out of their daze and hurriedly checking on Xu Shulou.
Xu Shulou hadn’t expected to successfully play the victim. She froze for a moment, guiltily lowering her head and speaking in an uncharacteristically soft voice, "I’m fine."
The morning air was still quite chilly. Seeing Xu Shulou dressed thinly, the woman cheerfully took off her own oversized thick coat and draped it over her shoulders. "Poor thing, how did you end up in this mess? What kind of garbage construction crew is this? How does a building just collapse silently in the middle of the night? Wait, no—where are the bricks?"
The coordinator thought for a moment. "Maybe scavengers took them overnight?"
Xu Shulou kept her head down. Her guilt was likely mistaken for fear, and the woman half-hugged her in reassurance.
When Song Ping and Bai Roushuang returned from the hospital, they stumbled upon this scene, their expressions flickering with disbelief. "S-senior sister?"
"Don’t worry, I’m fine," Xu Shulou turned to them with a weak smile.
"Oh, you’re fine," they nodded. "What about the building?"
Xu Shulou cleared her throat, returned the coat to the woman with thanks, and regained her usual composure. "How’s Yu Xing and the others?"
"They’ve been checked. Nothing serious."
"Where are they?"
"Yu Xing ran off. Left overnight," Song Ping said. "His exact words were, ‘Whoever wants to stay in that cursed place can stay. I’m never going back.’"
"..."
Bai Roushuang leaned in and whispered to her senior sister, "Should we drag him back?"
Xu Shulou sighed. "Drag him back? We’re not bandits."
Bai Roushuang shrugged, looking a little disappointed.
Nearby, the coordinator made a few hurried calls before wandering back, eyeing them suspiciously. "Did I just hear you mention Yu Xing?"
"Yes," Xu Shulou nodded. "He was here last night. My junior siblings took him to the hospital. The doctor said he’s fine."
The coordinator muttered what sounded like a curse before forcing a polite smile. "Miss—no, Ms. Xu, you weren’t hurt, were you? Let’s keep this quiet for now. We’ll discuss compensation, alright?"
Xu Shulou had come here for work, only to end up owing money instead of earning it. She sighed and nodded. "How much do I need to pay?"
"Well… you could name your price first. Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the hospital for a check-up later. All expenses will be covered by the production."
"Wait," Xu Shulou caught the odd phrasing. "You mean… you’re compensating me, not the other way around?"
"Of course, of course," the coordinator nodded repeatedly. Clearly, he didn’t believe a single woman could collapse a building on her own and naturally assumed she was a lucky survivor of the structural failure. "This is definitely the fault of the construction crew and the studio lot. But we’ll cover your medical expenses first."
Xu Shulou was touched. After causing trouble, she was being comforted with a coat, offered compensation instead of being billed, and even had her medical fees covered. When had she ever been treated like this before?
Overwhelmed, she shook her head. "No need for medical fees. I’m really fine. And don’t blame the construction crew. Let’s just… pretend this never happened, alright?"
(Though the fact that an alien spaceship had somehow been mixed into the construction was admittedly pretty absurd.)
Xu Shulou spoke cautiously, and the two fell silent. For a filming crew, avoiding trouble was always preferable. The coordinator’s opinion of this "modest" woman shot up, and his conscience stirred. "Of course! But let’s still get you checked at the hospital, just in case. Oh, and I’ll talk to the director about adding more scenes for you. A lot more!"
Xu Shulou shook her head with self-awareness. "With my acting skills? Let’s not."
"..."
As they spoke, the rest of the crew arrived in a hurry, staring at the foundation with identical expressions of shock.
The production team would handle negotiations with the studio lot, leaving Xu Shulou free from such worries. She was practically escorted to the set by a crowd—someone set up a chair for her, draped a coat over her shoulders, and shoved hot coffee, tea, and snacks into her hands. Once the enthusiastic group dispersed, Bai Roushuang sneaked over to steal a coffee and whispered, "Good thing there were no cameras around the building. They have no idea you’re the one who made it disappear."
Xu Shulou pulled a crushed lump of metal from her Qiankun Bracelet. "Who said there weren’t any?"
"..."
Sheng Wuyou was also on set. Her character, Qi Wutong, wielded a jade flute as a magical tool. She was practicing twirling a plastic prop but kept dropping it. Seeing her struggle, Xu Shulou walked over and gestured. "Hold it like this."
Sheng Wuyou looked surprised. "You know how to do this?"
"Yeah." Xu Shulou took the plastic prop and demonstrated, flipping it smoothly in both directions. Despite its cheap material, the flute in her hands moved with the weight and precision of a real weapon.
"Wow…" Sheng Wuyou gazed at her in admiration.
Xu Shulou stood behind her, guiding her hands. "Feel how I’m applying force. Follow the motion with your fingers and wrist."
Nearby, Song Ping and Bai Roushuang watched in silence.
One taught earnestly, the other learned attentively. Within half an hour, Sheng Wuyou had mastered the trick.
A producer nearby looked impressed. "That’s amazing."
"I originally wanted to apply as a fight choreographer," Xu Shulou turned to him. "So? Your choreographer ran off. Want to hire me?"
"There are a lot of weapons in this show—swords, spears, halberds. You know them all?" The producer hesitated.
Xu Shulou smiled modestly. "A little."
"Show me." The producer pointed at the scattered prop weapons.
A spear lay on the ground beside the rack. Xu Shulou lightly stepped on the shaft, and before anyone could see how she did it, the spear flipped up into her grip. She swung it effortlessly—slashing, pressing, twisting, blocking—each movement fluid and natural.
She’d never formally trained in spear techniques, but she’d fought enough spear-wielding opponents to know the moves by heart. She ended with the spear resting behind her back, one-handed, and glanced at the stunned producer. "Well?"
Before he could react, the director rushed over, clutching Xu Shulou’s sleeve. "You’re hired! Sign the contract now!"
"..." The entire crew seemed desperate.
An assistant hurried off to prepare the paperwork while the director stared at Xu Shulou, eyes gleaming. "Your fight scenes—the audience will love them. I’ll revise the script to add more action for you."
"—I don’t care, I won’t act!" Before Xu Shulou could respond, an argument erupted in the distance.
Everyone turned toward the commotion to see the assistant director chasing after a young woman who stormed straight up to the director. "I won't play this role. I can afford the breach penalty!"
Xu Shulou took a step back and whispered to the producer, "Who is she?"
"The pre-cast female lead, Bai Zhi, a rising starlet."
The director rubbed his temples, shooed away the onlookers, and asked, "What now?"
Bai Zhi stated bluntly, "I won’t play Bai Roushuang."
"This role was aggressively pursued by your agency months ago," the director frowned. "And now, right before filming starts, you back out?"
"My agent took it without consulting me. It wasn’t my choice," Bai Zhi retorted impulsively, clearly lacking tact. "This kind of character isn’t popular anymore. Audiences hate female leads who suffer in silence and arrange concubines for their husbands. I’m on the rise—if I play this, I’ll get torn apart!"
"The character was always like this. Did you just realize? And your agent kept demanding script and character changes. I scheduled meetings to discuss it, but he stood me up," the director snapped. "Seems like last month’s hit drama got you better offers, and now you’re looking down on our production."
"I didn’t read the script carefully before," Bai Zhi muttered, slipping on sunglasses guiltily. "Anyway, I’m out. My lawyer will handle the penalty."
With that, she strode off, leaving the director so furious he hurled a cup to the ground.
Xu Shulou peeked in from the doorway. "Director?"
"..."
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but… everyone heard."
"..."
The producer barged in. "So, what’s the plan?"
"No idea. Shoot the supporting cast first," the director groaned into his hands. "If she’d given me a month’s notice, fine—but where do I find a replacement now?"
"Can’t deny the character is pretty terrible," Bai Roushuang chimed in, flipping through a script she’d somehow snagged mid-chaos.
"..." The director slumped further, thoroughly defeated.
Then Song Ping spoke up. "I’ll recommend someone—my junior sister."
He patted Bai Roushuang’s shoulder, and she nodded eagerly. "Yes! I’d love to work with her on set!"
"..."
More ‘junior sisters’? The crew side-eyed Song Ping, mentally branding him an unapologetic playboy pushing two girls in one project.
Song Ping wiped his face and sat rigidly under their scrutiny, unfazed.
The director blinked, studying Bai Roushuang. "Your look fits, but you lack the fragile, pitiable vibe. Fine—audition first."
"Okay."
The crew scrambled into action. Soon, the director was behind the monitor, eyes locked on the screen.
"Senior Brother Lu," Bai Roushuang bit her lip onscreen, "it’s my fault you fought with your fiancée. She’s your betrothed, after all..."
"Cut! Why are you laughing during an audition?"
Bai Roushuang couldn’t stop giggling. "Can I change the pronouns?"
"What?"
"Like this," she recited, "Senior Sister, it’s my fault. But Senior Brother Lu is your fiancé—I’d never criticize him. I just ache for you. Will he cook for you like I would? Understand your ambitions? Stay through winters and summers, sharing stories by the fire? You’re so good—how could he bear to fight with you?"
"..." The room stared. Her first read had been stiff—why did flipping the script suddenly make her performance flawless?
