Su Qianqian immediately ran to the dressing room and changed into a plain white cheongsam.

Gu Chengyu then changed into the black brocade robe with a cinched waist.

Without the help of the film crew's makeup artist, the pure white satin made the girl's skin appear even whiter than snow.

Her waist was so slender it could be encircled by a single hand, and her long legs were faintly visible.

Her long hair was also pulled back, revealing her slender neck.

Her face was unadorned, yet she possessed a cool and delicate air about her.

Gu Chengyu looked at her, his gaze darkening.

This outfit and this demeanor are completely different from her usual docile and gentle self.

Cold and fragile, innocent and kind, the contradictory feeling is captivating.

More than half an hour later.

The three scenes between the two went surprisingly smoothly.

At this moment, Gu Chengyu was holding Su Qianqian, nestled in the large single sofa.

Su Qianqian shook her head, putting Lin Wan's emotions out of her mind.

She looked up at Gu Chengyu with amazement: "Ayu, how did you do that?"

"You clearly only read the biography once."

"I could feel Qi Heng's struggle, reluctance, regret, and love."

Gu Chengyu wrapped his arms around her slender waist and casually raised an eyebrow: "I have a photographic memory, so it's easy for me to remember it."

Su Qianqian looked at him earnestly: "Ayu, it's not just about memorizing lines, it's about feeling, it's about Qi Heng's feeling."

How did you manage to act that out?

“I even subconsciously thought that you were Qi Heng.”

The more she talked, the more unbelievable it seemed. "Could it be that you're a chosen one, a natural-born actor?"

Her watery eyes were filled with surprise.

"A chosen acting talent?" Gu Chengyu was amused by her statement and burst out laughing.

He pinched her rosy cheeks and explained to her, "Going back three generations, the Gu family has never produced any music masters, painters, artists, or theatrical genres."

"I guess I was born lacking in artistic talent."

He paused, recalling his childhood: "When I was a child, my family hired the best teachers to teach me piano, violin, oil painting, calligraphy... I could recite the theories of various schools of thought by heart, and I could imitate them about 70 or 80 percent of the way they were done."

"But something is missing. There's no inspiration to integrate and connect the dots. The things I draw are rigid, and the pieces I play don't have any wrong notes, but they lack soul."

Su Qianqian leaned against him, listening quietly.

She could picture little Gu Chengyu frowning as he drew, unable to find inspiration and only able to imitate, which was strangely endearing.

She couldn't help but rub her face against his chest.

Gu Chengyu felt the kitten-like snuggling in his arms, tightened his grip, and continued, "Acting? That's utter nonsense."

"Looking at the characters in the script and imagining what expressions they should have and what tone of voice they should speak is all very abstract to me."

He looked down, his gaze falling on her small face, and he was somewhat surprised himself. "But..."

"Looking at you, looking into your eyes, listening to your lines, the feeling just comes together."

"Feeling?" Su Qianqian blinked.

"Um."

Gu Chengyu responded with a sound of agreement, trying to express the feeling: "It just feels very familiar."

"I'm familiar with your little habits when reciting lines, and I can easily sense the emotions you're trying to express in your eyes..."