As the mercury lamps lit up, An Ji watched Yu Junye’s expressions and gaze shift instantly. She felt a secret jolt of astonishment this was probably what they called getting into character in a single second.
The previous moment’s absent-mindedness and deep thought were seamlessly transformed the moment the word “action” was called into something vibrant, scholarly, timid, naive, and endearing. This truly was the foundation of an outstanding actor, leaving one in absolute awe.
Since this was likely Yu Junye’s first time stepping into the world of a scholar, both her posture and micro-expressions were so precisely in place that An Ji couldn’t help feeling a surge of nervous tension. Acting opposite such a counterpart, would she be able to catch the other’s cues? Would her performance end up being completely overshadowed?
An Ji was inherently a competitive person. She had always believed that if others could achieve something, there was no reason she couldn’t do it well herself. Driven by this unyielding, stubborn streak, she insisted on achieving what she considered her personal best in both life and her acting career. Thus, even when her first marriage failed and became a sensational public scandal for a public figure, it hadn’t stopped her acting career; instead, leveraging rare opportunities, she fought hard to live out a second act of brilliance. Facing the prospect of acting opposite a generational talent, she maintained that exact same mindset. Although the difficulty was far from small, she was determined to give it her all. Thus, she silently pumped herself up with mental encouragement.
This particular scene was a solo performance for Yu Junye, so An Ji stood quietly to the side, observing Yu Junye’s acting habits and techniques.
Yet, she couldn’t detect any overt technique at all. It felt completely natural, as if the character had inhabited her body and fused into one with her.
It wasn’t until the director shouted “Cut!” that Yu Junye tidied her costume and instantly reverted to her usual lazy, indifferent, girl-next-door persona.
“That’s a wrap for this cut.” At the director’s shout, Yu Junye smiled with relaxed ease. Achieving a one-take wonder on the very first scene earned her admiring glances from the surrounding actors and crew members. Used to such respectful attention by now, Yu Junye simply picked up her script and began turning the pages.
While filled with admiration, An Ji also silently picked up her script to prepare. The next scene was her first face-off with Yu Junye their initial reunion after a brief parting as newlyweds. Capturing the right emotional nuances would be exceptionally difficult, especially since this was their first time acting together, without even a chance for rehearsal or mutual adaptation.
The mercury lamps lit up once more. As the scholar emerged from the room, running toward her with shining eyes and a face full of joy, An Ji mobilized her accumulated past experience and hurried forward to meet him with radiant delight.
Their hands clasped together warm and damp with nervous perspiration.
Looking into Yu Junye’s eyes, An Ji caught a glimpse of deep longing, unspoken grievance, and a childlike sincerity pure and lively. For a brief second, she found herself slightly stunned.
“Cut!” Director Yin called out a pause, walking over with his script in hand. “An Ji, your expression here is a bit too sluggish. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and you are legal spouses right now, with your emotions at their most intense. Your portrayal should be more eager, more ecstatic.”
“Understood,” An Ji nodded in acknowledgment.
“Would you like a moment to find the feeling?” Director Yin asked gently.
“I’m sorry, please give me a moment to adjust,” An Ji said with an apologetic smile.
“No problem, take your time.” The director walked back to the camera with his script.
Standing in place, An Ji replayed Yu Junye’s performance in her mind with a flutter of anxiety.
In past scenes with other male actors, a man’s possessiveness and desire were obvious at a glance; longing was sometimes portrayed, but rarely with such pristine innocence. However, Yu Junye’s gaze was far too clean and clear, creating a strange illusion it was the pure, unpolluted innocence found only in a child’s eyes, completely untouched by desire.
Was the other actress portraying it incorrectly? That didn’t seem right either. Although the scholar was married, he was still an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old bookworm who had never experienced worldly trials. It was only natural for him to maintain a true and innocent sentiment toward life and his beloved. Her portrayal was hitting precisely the right notes.
The problem, then, was that she hadn’t found her own proper positioning.
Right now, she was playing the role of the scholar’s wife. In an ancient society where the husband was considered the moral guide, a wife should lean on him with reliance, respect, and deep affection.
Yes, that must be it.
Moreover, since their separation as newlyweds was caused by her own actions, this complex emotion should also be layered with a sense of tender cherishing and apology.
Having sorted out her thoughts, An Ji walked back onto the set and nodded to the director.
Understanding her signal, the director called for a retake.
After a long take and three attempts, the scene was finally approved.
Following that, An Ji and Yu Junye filmed their respective separate scenes with other cast members, both handling their parts with effortless ease.
The day flew by amidst a tense and bustling atmosphere.
“That’s a wrap for the day!” At the director’s command, everyone on set began packing up their belongings.
An Ji let out a long breath. Acting opposite an opponent like Yu Junye truly demanded total concentration; the slightest lapse in focus would instantly make one’s performance feel slightly off. It seemed she would need to be much more diligent from now on, doing her homework in advance instead of cutting corners. She also needed to frequently practice scenes with Yu Junye, or else having “Cut!” called repeatedly on set would deal a devastating blow to her self-esteem.
An unprecedented wave of pressure weighed heavily on her heart. Although it was only their first day filming romantic scenes, her level of engagement had genuinely left something to be desired.
She was still lost in thought when Yu Junye came running over at full speed.
“Teacher An!” Finishing her scenes, Yu Junye dropped her script and hurried over. “Are you going out to play tonight after wrapping up? Ai Lin and I were discussing heading out to check out the night market.”
“You’re going shopping? Let’s make it another day. My state of mind isn’t very good today.” An Ji tried to decline; she genuinely needed to go back and thoroughly study the script. According to the shooting schedule, tomorrow’s shoot involved a major turning point the wedding night. Before she had even fully adapted to her character, she was expected to dive straight into an intimate sequence. Although the script didn’t call for anything overly daring just kissing the forehead she still felt completely ungrounded inside.
“What’s wrong, Teacher An?” Hearing An Ji mention being in a poor state, Yu Junye immediately grew anxious.
“Nothing much, just that I haven’t thoroughly digested the script yet and haven’t fully grasped the character.” An Ji didn’t plan on hiding it from Yu Junye, especially since they were acting partners.
“Oh, I thought you were feeling unwell! Acting is just a minor detail,” Yu Junye said dismissively.
Hearing this, An Ji quietly packed her things, truly at a loss for how to respond.
Noticing An Ji’s silence, Yu Junye realized she might have spoken too lightly and hurriedly added in an obedient tone, “Then let’s go together another day instead!”
“Mmhmm,” An Ji replied in a soft voice.
“Then do you need to practice some scenes tonight?” Yu Junye probed tentatively.
“Alright.” An Ji had been waiting for precisely those words. To be honest, she hadn’t felt comfortable initiating a request for Yu Junye to rehearse with her. Since the other person brought it up, the timing was simply perfect.
Yu Junye paused for a moment, then visibly relaxed.
“Sister An, your phone is ringing.”
“Coming.”