After changing into her costume, Yun Ni noticed people glancing at her and whispering, but most of those looks were filled with amazement, so she didn’t pay them much mind.
Tao Ningchu, who had finished changing, walked up with a smile. “Sister Yun, you look truly beautiful.”
Yun Ni looked at her attire. “You look beautiful too.”
Unlike Yun Ni, Tao Ningchu was initially playing a frail, sickly young lady from a prestigious family; her white robes made her look as delicate as a willow in the wind.
Yun Ni’s tone was sincere. Believing her, Tao Ningchu lowered her head with a shy smile, her two sharp little canine teeth looking incredibly cute.
Both turned their heads at the sound, followed by another click.
The stylist put away her phone and walked over, showing them the photos. “I just instinctively took them because you looked so good. If you two don’t mind, can I post these as ‘leak’ photos?”
In the photo, the two stood side-by-side. On the left, Yun Ni had a soft expression, head tilted as she spoke to the person beside her; her upturned “peach blossom” eyes shimmered like starlight, and the slight curve of her lips gave off a mysterious allure that felt like a flame drawing in moths. On the right, Tao Ningchu was dressed in white, looking bone-deep delicate, her head slightly raised with a joyful expression.
Yun Ni recalled the meaning of “leak photos” (behind-the-scenes teasers) and put on a smile. “I don’t mind.”
Tao Ningchu didn’t mind either; after all, if the photos weren’t ugly, posting them could generate buzz. The more she looked at the photos, the more she liked them, so she asked the stylist to send them to her.
It was the first time Yun Ni had seen a photo of herself. Seeing Tao Ningchu’s reaction, she also asked the stylist to send them.
“Sister Yun, I’ll send them to you,” Tao Ningchu interjected. “I forgot to add you last night; let’s do it now.”
Yun Ni nodded and exchanged contact information with her.
With that, aside from her landlord and her manager, her contact list finally had one friend.
The two took a few more photos of each other before heading out.
Just then, the production staff was gathering the actors for the worship ceremony, so they followed the crowd.
As soon as they stood still, they heard a loud shout: “Where is Dong Menglian?”
Dong Menglian was the female lead of the drama. Not long ago, she had won a Best Supporting Actress award from some organization and was considered a second-tier star.
Someone quickly replied, “I asked her manager. They said they’re stuck in traffic and haven’t arrived yet.”
The man who asked cursed under his breath. “Tell them to hurry up. The auspicious hour is almost here.”
Yun Ni didn’t care much about the female lead; her gaze remained fixed on the large incense burner.
Tao Ningchu was different; she leaned in and whispered, “I’ve heard for a long time that Dong Menglian loves being late. I didn’t expect her to skip the worship ceremony. This isn’t just a lack of emotional intelligence anymore—she’s probably missing some IQ too.”
Seeing her babbling, Yun Ni didn’t treat her like an outsider and nodded in agreement.
As Tao Ningchu said, everyone treated the worship ceremony as a very important event. Dong Menglian’s delay made a mockery of everyone’s efforts; who would like someone like that? For a veteran actress to behave this way was indeed a sign of both low IQ and EQ.
The auspicious hour approached, but there was still no sign of Dong Menglian.
Afraid of missing the timing, Zhou Sheng directly announced the start of the ceremony.
First, the director and other staff offered the first round of incense, followed by the male lead, Liao Linhang.
Liao Linhang had the looks of a modern “pretty boy.” Yun Ni had searched for information on him; he had filmed many period dramas, and his acting was decent. Now, dressed in ancient armor, he looked a bit more rugged and hardy.
Since the female lead was absent, Yun Ni and Tao Ningchu were next.
Yun Ni stepped forward, mimicking the previous people’s movements to offer incense, and then stepped back with Tao Ningchu.
The weather was hot, and they were wrapped in period costumes. Zhou Sheng didn’t require them to stay for the whole thing, letting them go inside to rest and prepare for filming once the ceremony finished.
Just as Yun Ni turned around, she noticed a commotion in the crowd as a path was cleared.
Beside her, Tao Ningchu whispered, “Dong Menglian is here.”
Dong Menglian was wearing a low-cut, white spaghetti-strap dress, her hot figure fully on display. Aside from her manager and assistants, she brought four or five bodyguards with her.
The group walked over, and her older-looking manager apologized profusely. “Director Zhou, we’re late because of traffic. Please forgive us.”
“You knew there would be traffic and yet you waited until this morning to leave?” Zhou Sheng was fuming. “The notice said you had to arrive by last night at the latest, not fly in at dawn.”
“We were going to leave yesterday, but our Menglian had an upset stomach and it was really inconvenient to travel,” the manager said with a pleading smile. “Director Zhou, we can’t let this delay the auspicious hour for the incense. Why don’t you let Menglian offer incense first, and we can talk later?”
Zhou Sheng looked at Dong Menglian, who hadn’t said a word, and nodded. “You’re right. We can’t miss the hour.”
The manager breathed a sigh of relief and was about to thank him when Zhou Sheng spoke again. “Take her to the back of the line. Let the others finish their incense before she goes.”
She was stunned. “Director Zhou?”
Usually, incense is offered according to the importance of the role. For a female lead to offer incense after the supporting cast—wouldn’t that be a total loss of face and status?
Dong Menglian clearly hadn’t expected Zhou Sheng to humiliate her in front of so many people; her expression changed instantly.
Her manager noticed her face and quickly pulled her to the line.
Zhou Sheng was clearly trying to grind down Dong Menglian’s arrogance. If she really made a scene, she wouldn’t come out on top.
Zhou Sheng waved his hand and shouted, “Next!”
Yun Ni stopped watching and went inside with Tao Ningchu.
“Director Zhou’s move was so satisfying.” Tao Ningchu wanted to laugh just thinking about Dong Menglian’s face. “Who does she think she is? Just because she won Best Supporting Actress—it’s not like she’s Best Actress. What is there to be so proud of? Does she think the whole world revolves around her? So pretentious.”
Just as Yun Ni was about to speak, she caught sight of Liao Linhang walking over and quickly tugged on her friend’s sleeve to make her stop.
Tao Ningchu looked up, saw Liao Linhang had arrived, and cut her words short.
Liao Linhang cupped his fists toward them and bowed slightly. “Do you two ladies have a moment? I, Liao, wish to rehearse the script with you.”
His speech was a clumsy mix of semi-classical and modern Chinese—utterly awkward.
Tao Ningchu rejected him outright. “We don’t have time.”
Liao Linhang smiled, bowed to Yun Ni, and then turned to leave.
“Sister Yun, don’t be fooled by him,” Tao Ningchu whispered a warning. “This guy is a total player. Every time he films a drama, a scandal breaks out. Don’t fall for it.”
Yun Ni laughed. “He’s not my type, don’t worry.”
Tao Ningchu grew curious. “Then what kind do you like? You don’t have a boyfriend yet, right? Should I introduce you to someone?”
“She seems very cold on the outside, but she’s warm underneath. Even when she says something is impossible, she still refuses to give up.” Yun Ni spoke and then laughed, not even noticing how soft her expression had become.
Seeing her look, Tao Ningchu had a sudden realization and looked at her suggestively. “So that’s how it is! Then introduce ‘Brother-in-law’ to me another day?”
“Not ‘Brother-in-law,'” Yun Ni corrected her. “She is no longer here. I can’t introduce her to you.”
Tao Ningchu looked at her face, which had lost its smile, and images of two lovers separated by death filled her mind.
She remembered the deathly pale look on Yun Ni’s face when they first met; she guessed that was when she had lost her loved one. Thinking this, she patted Yun Ni on the shoulder with a grieving look. “The dead are gone, Sister Yun. You have to move on.”
Yun Ni didn’t know what the girl had imagined. She gave a soft “Mm,” then picked up the filming schedule to reconfirm her upcoming scenes.
Dong Menglian was the last to offer incense. Afterward, she threw a tantrum because “the water the manager gave her was too hot” before finally going to change.
While she was changing, Zhou Sheng called over the actors with major roles to get to know each other.
Aside from Liao Linhang, there was the second male lead, Liang Zhiyou, who played the prince who silently loved and protected Princess Dong’er. Liang Zhiyou looked thin and delicate with refined features and a shy personality. After his introduction, he listened quietly. He said he was twenty, but people would have believed him if he said eighteen.
In reality, only Liao Linhang was talking, boasting about his past filming experiences. Yun Ni and Tao Ningchu couldn’t get a word in, so they just stayed quiet. Only Liang Zhiyou occasionally chimed in with a few gasps of admiration to satisfy Liao Linhang’s vanity.
When Dong Menglian finally arrived in costume, Liao Linhang immediately shifted his target to her.
Seeing this, Yun Ni and Tao Ningchu took their scripts and left, returning to their chairs.
“Um… can I join you?”
Yun Ni looked up into a pair of embarrassed yet extremely sincere eyes. She tilted her head. “Xiao Chu, what do you think?”
Tao Ningchu observed for a moment and then nodded. “Sister Yun has quite a few scenes with Mr. Liang; it’s good to rehearse together.”
Thus, the three moved their base to the tavern set.
Having learned she was to be married off to the great General Chu of the enemy state to foster peace, Princess Dong’er took the little prince to sneak into the Sheng Autumn Kingdom to see what this future husband was like. Unexpectedly, while drinking tea at a tavern, they saw General Chu catching a thief for the female lead in the street below—and she fell in love at first sight.
This was Yun Ni’s first time filming and her first time rehearsing with someone. She nodded and looked at Liang Zhiyou as if facing a great enemy, making him turn serious as well.
Tao Ningchu stopped looking at her own script and moved her small stool back to watch them from a distance.
Thanks to her years of “acting” before becoming emperor, Yun Ni entered the character instantly. She rested her chin on her left hand and traced the rim of her cup with her right index finger. “He Yundun, if this General Chu isn’t as good as you say, I’ll give you five strokes of the cane when I get back.”
He Yundun was the prince played by Liang Zhiyou. Hearing her words, he instantly showed a helpless and bitter smile, standing up to pour her tea. “If I make the Princess unhappy, even ten strokes would be fine.”
At this, Yun Ni laughed and clapped her hands. “You said it! You’re not allowed to say I’m bullying you then.”
“Yes, yes, this Prince keeps his word.” Liang Zhiyou glanced at her surreptitiously, a flash of infatuation crossing his eyes as if he were afraid of being discovered, before lowering his head and speaking cautiously. “However, Dong’er, I heard that this General Chu has three heads and six arms, which is why he has no wife or daughter to this day. Why don’t I go beg His Majesty to rescind the order and cancel this marriage?”
“Our country was defeated, the casualties were heavy, and we cannot withstand war again in the short term. We can only marry to show sincerity.” The smile on Yun Ni’s face faded, replaced by a sense of resignation and a hint of unwilling sorrow. But when she looked at the prince, she returned to her innocent, romantic self and gave a light huff. “Even if he has three heads and six arms, he is still a man. I don’t believe any man can escape my grasp.”
Liang Zhiyou reflexively smiled at those words.
Before they could continue, Director Zhou called them for a meeting to discuss the upcoming shoot.
After the worship ceremony, the crew began releasing the selected photos.
Aside from the incense ceremony photos, the rest were group shots of the main characters: the leads talking, the trio of Yun Ni and her companions, and everyone discussing together. Each photo was carefully chosen to ensure no uneven photo-editing was visible.
Among the five main characters, the leads had the highest status and the most fans. Tao Ningchu and Liang Zhiyou also had many fans. Only Yun Ni was an exception.
Zhang Lingyu had suppressed her temper lately because of Lin Zijin, but it was only temporary. Because she hadn’t seen Lin Zijin and Yun Ni in contact for several days, she was starting to get restless again.
Seeing the crew’s Weibo post, she logged into Yun Ni’s account. She used to manage it, but after the lack of resources and the growth of anti-fans, she had stopped caring.
Looking at it now, she found the followers had dropped to just a few tens of thousands—not even as many as an internet influencer. More importantly, 90% of those followers were anti-fans, and her DMs were filled with insults.
She looked at the hot searches and saw that the topic for Dreaming Back to Mid-Autumn was firmly in the top three. After thinking about it, she pulled out her phone and took several photos of Yun Ni.
To keep Yun Ni from noticing her intentions, she chose good angles and took several beautiful photos to form a nine-square grid and posted them.
Almost instantly, she received notifications of replies, one after another.
Rising from the dead? Sister is beautiful! Looks photoshopped at first glance. Or did she disappear for so long to get plastic surgery? — Acting this bad and still filming? Can you stop insulting our eyes? If Yun Ni is in it, I’m not watching. Trash drama.
In just two or three hours, the hashtag YunNiActing hit the hot searches and began to climb.
As the heat increased and more people commented, some started releasing clips of Yun Ni’s previous roles.
Zhang Lingyu scrolled through the growing wave of malicious comments, then looked at the person seriously filming. The corners of her mouth curled up.
She wanted to see what exactly was going on between those two.