Two weeks later.
A sudden drizzle fell steadily from the sky, washing away the last traces of late summer’s heat. Autumn had completely taken over the city.
Xiao Wang, an assistant to the drama crew’s makeup artist, arrived at work yawning after staying up all night watching dramas.
The supporting roles she was responsible for had no scenes today, so she didn’t need to do any makeup work. That meant she could slack off without guilt.
She had already made her plans. After clocking in, she would head to the staff rest room and catch up on sleep in peace.
She pushed open the door to the rest room. “Good morni—”
Her voice cut off.
The room was completely empty. Not a single person in sight. Just a few folded cots piled up in the corner.
“No way. I came in so late today, and no one’s here?” Xiao Wang muttered.
She pulled out her phone and checked the time.
Nine o’clock.
Not early.
Strange.
Usually, assistants like her who didn’t have assignments for the day would hang out here to rest. So where was everyone?
Footsteps approached.
It was the security uncle doing his morning rounds.
Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes and his cheeks as he greeted her with a smile. “Good morning, Xiao Wang.”
“Good morning, Uncle. You’re out patrolling this early?”
“This early?” He chuckled. “Your coworkers arrived even earlier than me.”
“They came early? I didn’t see any of them.”
“As soon as they arrived, they ran off to the set to watch the filming. Said today’s scene was something you just can’t miss… what’s that phrase again…” The security uncle squinted and thought hard, then slapped his forehead. “Ah, I remember. ‘If you miss it, it’s a loss of blood.’”
He laughed as he clasped his hands behind his back. “What ‘loss of blood’? It’s just a kiss. A bunch of girls acting like they’ve never seen anything before.”
“Ah!” Xiao Wang gasped and quickly covered her mouth. So the kiss scene was scheduled for today?
She had mixed up the date. She thought it was tomorrow.
Frustrated, she tapped herself on the head. Song Qin Ning was known for her one-take efficiency, and Jiang Qing rarely needed retakes on set. By now, the scene was probably already done.
On set.
Jiang Qing bent slightly forward, one hand resting on her knee as the makeup artist carefully applied a rich, seductive red color to her lips.
Once the finishing touch was done, Jiang Qing returned to her position.
Song Qin Ning had also touched up her makeup and walked over.
Her expression was serious, tense, as though a heavy weight hung above her head. She looked completely focused, not daring to relax.
“We’re lovers, not enemies. Qin Ning, you should smile more.”
Jiang Qing reached out and gently brushed her fingertip across the tight space between Song Qin Ning’s brows, as if trying to smooth it out.
Song Qin Ning didn’t flinch. She was already used to this kind of casual physical contact.
Ever since they openly agreed to be friends, their relationship had entered a new phase.
They were now like real friends, closer and more comfortable around each other.
Besides, they shared a secret.
People who share secrets are always a little more intimate.
After adjusting her mindset, Song Qin Ning looked steadily at Jiang Qing.
“Ready.”
Director Chen watched the monitor closely.
His gentle face suddenly lit up with emotion.
“A-Nuan.”
The princess pressed one hand against her maid’s waist, their foreheads touching.
Her affectionate eyes were like hooks, seductive and lingering. Her tone was soft, sweet enough to drip honey.
“Y-Your Highness.”
The maid’s face flushed a deep red. Her hands hovered awkwardly, not knowing where to go. In her nervousness, she clenched the hem of her skirt tightly, wrinkling the once neat and plain fabric.
Seeing her lover so shy and adorable, the princess was delighted. A radiant smile bloomed on her face.
She cupped her lover’s cheeks gently and leaned down to kiss her.
Lips met, breath growing hot and fast. The air around them thickened with tension.
In the otherwise silent studio, the sound of kissing echoed clearly. The intimate, sticky noises made a few crew members blush with embarrassment.
“Cut.”
Director Chen lifted his head from behind the monitor.
With a helpless sigh, he closed his eyes and rubbed the space between his brows.
His expression said it all.
Another take failed.
Song Qin Ning felt a wave of frustration in her chest.
Director Chen called the two over.
“Because this scene is a close-up, your micro-expressions have to be spot on. Jiang Qing did well—her eyes were expressive, and she conveyed affection very naturally. But Xiao Song… you’re still not quite in the moment.”
“This scene was originally scheduled to be filmed weeks ago, but we postponed it to give you both time to build chemistry and find the right feel. Based on today’s footage, though, it still isn’t quite working.”
He crossed one leg over the other and thought for a moment.
“How about this? I’ll give you a bit more time. We can save this scene for the final day of shooting. Does that work?”
Jiang Qing nodded. “I’m fine with that.”
“So am I. I’m sorry, Director Chen, for wasting everyone’s time today.”
“It’s alright. Emotions are tricky. It takes time.”
A plastic water bottle crinkled in Song Qin Ning’s hand as she squeezed it gently. After a full morning of filming, she was starting to feel drained.
Earlier today, when the makeup artist was getting her ready, she hadn’t felt particularly nervous, even knowing she was about to film the first kiss scene of her career.
She had always been steady with her acting.
And after all, she and Jiang Qing had already shared something even more intimate—a temporary marking.
A simple kiss scene shouldn’t have been a challenge.
But she hadn’t expected her confidence to collapse so quickly.