Everyone had already changed into costume that morning. Yu Shiqing was wearing tactical military gear, looking tall and sharp, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist—eye-catching in every step.
Walking beside Jiang Yu, their long legs and striking presence drew everyone’s attention, making the atmosphere buzz.
As an omega with delicate looks but short height, Yu Rong was completely blocked behind them.
“What’s so great? Good looks don’t mean great acting. If he was that amazing, why did his career flop?”
Yu Rong glared at Yu Shiqing’s back and muttered.
Jiang Yu stopped and turned back. “What did you say?”
Yu Rong jumped. “Huh? I said… Teacher Yu is really handsome!”
Jiang Yu narrowed his eyes and mocked, “Focus on acting. Don’t drool.”
Drool? Over Yu Shiqing?
Yu Rong almost spat blood.
Why was he wrong when mocking Yu Shiqing, and also wrong when praising him?! What was Jiang Yu’s problem?!
But Jiang Yu didn’t explain and just walked on.
Yu Shiqing noticed his gaze. “What is it?”
Jiang Yu looked at him. “I’m just thinking, Teacher Yu is so charming, even omegas are drawn to you so quickly.”
Yu Shiqing chuckled and didn’t respond.
Yu Rong’s flattery was obviously fake—why take it seriously?
When they arrived at the set, the crew was marking the positions on the floor. Yu Shiqing first rehearsed a few lines with Jiang Yu and Yu Rong.
Yu Rong knew he wasn’t well-liked, so he took it seriously. But after a few tries, even he realized his delivery was flat and lacked emotion. His face started to heat up with embarrassment.
He thought Yu Shiqing would use this chance to mock or get back at him, especially with Yan Hongyun and Jiang Yu backing him up.
But Yu Shiqing said calmly, “That line was good. Much better. Remember the emotion in this part. Try it again.”
Yu Rong was stunned.
He looked at Yu Shiqing.
Yu Shiqing hadn’t even looked up. His eyes were still on the script, his expression calm and distant—not exactly friendly, but also not annoyed.
Yu Rong gripped the script tighter and lowered his head to try again.
After the second take, Yu Shiqing nodded. “That’s about right.”
Yu Rong suddenly felt a bit flustered. “That’s it? Should we practice a few more times?”
Yu Shiqing glanced at him and replied in a calm voice, “If you’re afraid of forgetting lines, you can hold the script during the walkthrough.”
Yu Rong had no choice but to follow him into the center of the set.
“Close your eyes,” Yu Shiqing said.
Yu Rong looked at him warily. “Why?”
“To calm your mind and feel the atmosphere around you,” Yu Shiqing replied.
“Does that even help?” Yu Rong asked again.
Jiang Yu turned to him and snapped, “Just do what you’re told. Why are you talking so much?”
Yu Rong quickly shut his eyes.
Jiang Yu then walked aside with Yu Shiqing.
Yu Rong couldn’t ask any more questions—but Jiang Yu could. “Does that really work?”
“If it helps him focus, then yes,” Yu Shiqing said. “He has too many thoughts. It’s hard for him to get into character.”
Jiang Yu frowned. “You never taught me that.”
Yu Shiqing glanced at him with a smile. “You have natural talent. You didn’t need it.”
Jiang Yu’s lips curled slightly, then he quickly hid the smile. “Is that so? I guess I’m just average.”
Yu Shiqing chatted with him briefly. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Yu Rong’s expression—he clearly hadn’t taken anything in—but Yu Shiqing didn’t push. He simply walked over with the script and explained the scene they were about to shoot.
Yu Rong heard him approaching, and though his eyes were shut, his eyelids twitched when Yu Shiqing started speaking.
Yu Shiqing didn’t know how much the director had already explained to Yu Rong, so he focused on a few key emotional beats.
With his eyes closed, Yu Rong’s hearing became sharper. Halfway through Yu Shiqing’s explanation, he found his attention drifting.
He hadn’t realized it before, but Yu Shiqing’s voice was actually… really pleasant.
Now that he was so close, the low, cool tone carried a slight magnetism. It sent a strange shiver down his spine.
“Open your eyes,” Yu Shiqing said.
Yu Rong obeyed without thinking. Before he could even get annoyed at himself, he looked straight into a pair of deep, cold black eyes—like stars in the night sky. He felt as though he was being pulled in.
“Thump-thump.”
Yu Rong stumbled back a step, his heartbeat speeding up. Annoyed at his own reaction, he muttered, “Can we start now?”
Yu Shiqing replied, “Mm.”
Yu Rong tried to stay casual. His performance in the morning had been bad, sure—but the others weren’t exactly impressive either. It wasn’t as terrible as Yan Hongyun had made it sound.
It was just acting. He knew Yu Shiqing was an award-winning actor, but how good could he really be?
Skipping the earlier scene of Jiang Yu and Yu Rong meeting and recognizing each other, the three of them moved to a control console prop.
Yu Rong pulled out a chair and sat in the middle. Yu Shiqing was on his left, Jiang Yu on his right.
Surrounded by two alphas, Yu Rong subconsciously sat up straighter.
In that short breath of time, he glanced at Yu Shiqing again—and was shocked to find that his whole vibe had changed.
Now, Yu Shiqing gave off a sharp, commanding presence, like a drawn blade. He looked completely different from his usual calm and quiet self.
He placed his hand on the table—slender fingers, clear knuckles. Yu Rong’s eyes were drawn in again. Then he looked up and saw Yu Shiqing’s sharp profile.
Every move, every glance, was intense and magnetic.
“What are you waiting for?” Ji Ming (Yu Shiqing’s character) frowned. His voice was quick but steady. “We don’t have time to waste. This place won’t hold much longer!”
As he spoke, he jerked slightly as if hearing a loud noise. He quickly looked over his shoulder and ordered in a deep voice, “Go!”
Yu Rong snapped back to reality and scrambled to operate the controls. His lines came out clumsily, but the panic fit the scene perfectly.
He knew clearly—this wasn’t acting on his part. He was just reacting to how deeply Yu Shiqing had pulled him into the scene.
And despite himself… he thought:
Yu Shiqing… is kind of hot.
Suddenly, applause came from offstage.
Yu Rong looked over and saw Yan Hongyun. He hadn’t realized they’d already finished the shot.
He turned to Yu Shiqing.
Yu Shiqing said, “Read through your lines once more. We’ll do another take.”
Yu Rong nodded blankly. “Okay.”
Standing nearby, Jiang Yu looked at how Yu Rong suddenly became obedient and well-behaved, then glanced at Yu Shiqing.
Yu Shiqing was pointing out Yu Rong’s mistakes from the last take. His gestures weren’t intimate, but Jiang Yu still found it oddly irritating.
Yu Shiqing noticed his stare and turned to look at him.
Their eyes met.
Jiang Yu didn’t understand why he suddenly felt annoyed and restless—but he didn’t dig deeper either.
