Chapter 25

On the eve of the official start of filming, the crew faced a new trouble, a trouble that was both unexpected and reasonable - the other actors had been in place one after another, but the male actor who would play King You of Zhou had not been finalized.

Lin Na and Chen Feng initially contacted several talented male movie stars who were of sufficient weight and suitable age and acting style, but after carefully reading the script outline and contract terms, they all politely declined.

The reasons are similar: the core of the script is clearly tilted towards Bao Si, and King You of Zhou is more like a functional symbol, a background board to promote the plot.

For actors of their level, playing a nominally "first male lead" but actually an "outstanding" supporting role in a project with such a huge investment is difficult to accept, both from the perspective of artistic pursuit and status in the industry.

"What they want is a confrontation between two heroes, or at least a complex rivalry between two evenly matched heroes. But what we give them... is more like a grand narrative backdrop centered around an absolute heroine." Chen Feng helplessly reported the results of the contact to Lin Na.

As a second best option, we approached some middle-aged actors with less experience but considerable potential, as well as some rising stars of the new generation. The auditions were held in the main hall of the Xiangbei Cinema, which was under construction.

The results were even more depressing.

These actors are quite good when performing alone or opposite other supporting roles. However, once they are in the same frame with Bao Si played by Liu Yifan, the situation takes a sharp turn for the worse.

The problem is not how bad their acting is, but that they are completely unable to "keep up" Liu Yifan's performance.

Yes, I can't catch it. This word was like an icy needle, piercing the expectations of all the professionals present.

After months of immersive practice, Liu Yifan's state of mind has undergone a profound transformation. Standing on the rammed earth platform, clad in the simple, early-period deep robe, she doesn't even need a line; simply staring blankly outward, her inner immersion in a vast emptiness and apathy creates a powerful, almost tangible aura.

That was no longer the A-list actress Liu Yifan, known to the outside world as someone whose beauty and star power made her a living. That was Bao Si. A tragic soul trapped at the pinnacle of power, seeing through everything but unable to break free, only able to use extreme indifference as a silent resistance.

Young male actors appear thin, immature, and even frivolous next to her, and any attempts at technically driven "rage" or "obsession" seem false and powerless. Older actors often reveal overly worldly "desires" or "calculations," a far cry from the madness of King You of Zhou, born of sheer boredom and the arrogance of power.

Their "acting," when colliding with Liu Yifan's "state," is like waves crashing against rocks, instantly crumbling into foam, unable to generate effective dramatic tension. Within the camera, all focus and weight involuntarily and completely tilts toward Liu Yifan.

After audition after audition, Lin Na rubbed her brows wearily and said to Chen Feng, "We were wrong. The problem isn't the number of scenes King You of Zhou has in the script, but rather... there are too few male actors who can match her current 'state'. She's been both too empty and too full."

Chen Feng silently watched the close-up of Liu Yifan on the monitor. There was a depth and power in it he had never seen in any of her previous works. He murmured, "Everyone used to say she couldn't act 'love.' Now, it seems it's not that she can't act, it's that she hasn't met an opponent who can force this kind of 'hate' and 'coldness' out of her... Or perhaps it's Zhou Ping'an and this project that have driven her to this point."

Thus, a scene that can be called a spectacle in the Chinese film industry emerged: a first-line actress at the peak of her career, in her most beautiful and most noticed years, spent more than half a year alone in a royal city worth hundreds of millions of dollars and tailor-made for her, rehearsing her scenes, facing the air, the throne, and the silent staff behind the camera.

She walked back and forth in the hall, searching for the precise arc of Baosi's gait; she sat quietly on the high rammed earth platform for hours, experiencing the extreme loneliness of being supported and imprisoned by power; she recited those concise but tense lines to the empty palace, her voice colliding and echoing in the huge space, and then dissipating, without receiving any response from her "opponent".

This solitary polishing, in turn, further refined her performance, deepening her fusion with Bao Sisi and leaving the role of "rival" feeling even more hollow and in dire need of filling. The project had fallen into a strange stagnation: the hardware was becoming increasingly perfect, the leading actress was getting into better shape, but it couldn't truly get off the ground due to the lack of the most crucial piece of the puzzle.

Zhou Ping'an would regularly receive project progress reports from Su Ying, which naturally included the casting dilemma. The reports were written in a calm and objective manner, simply stating the facts and the difficulties encountered.

After reading it, he would usually be silent for a moment, then reply: "Got it. Let's proceed according to Director Lin's advice."

No instructions, no intervention. As if this was just a technical problem that would take time to solve.

But he seemed to be going to the studio more often, unnoticed. He still rarely interrupted rehearsals, but he spent more time walking around the increasingly exquisite yet empty palace.

Sometimes, he would see Liu Yifan practicing her etiquette alone on the high platform from afar. The setting sun stretched her shadow very long, casting it on the cold adobe wall, like an infinitely magnified, lonely silhouette.

He would stop and look at it for a while, his eyes calm and emotionless, then turn and leave, like a silent inspector, confirming the formation process of this "amber" and the state of the butterfly undergoing metamorphosis within it.

Script readings and actor-to-act coordination took place in near isolation. However, Liu Yifan was, after all, an A-list actress, burdened with unavoidable commercial contracts. She had to attend the annual launch of a top jewelry brand she endorsed.

This is her first public appearance in more than three months.

As soon as the news broke, media and fans were already buzzing. On the day of the press conference, the spotlights flashed more intensely than ever before. Everyone was filled with curiosity—what had become of the queen who had vanished from Xiangbei Film City, reportedly immersed herself obsessively in the filming of "The Fallen Kingdom"?

When Liu Yifan appeared at the end of the red carpet, the noise at the scene paused for a moment, ever so slightly.

She wore the brand's latest couture collection: a minimalist, pearl-white, off-the-shoulder gown, adorned with matching diamond and South Sea white pearl jewellery. Her look was impeccably elegant. Her makeup remained delicate, her steps steady, and her smile to the camera and fans remained perfectly composed.

But, something is different.

A subtle and profound change that is difficult to describe with specific words, but can be felt instantly by everyone.

If the Liu Yifan before was as beautiful as a radiant and impeccable work of art, then she is now like a bottomless ancient well, calm on the surface but with a subtle and powerful suction inside.

That beauty is no longer just a visual impact, but more like a heavy atmosphere that permeates the air.

Her iconic eyes, which had been praised by countless people, now seemed to be covered with a very light mist. When she looked at people, the focus seemed to fall on you, and seemed to penetrate you and fall on some distant void.

The speed at which the smile reached his eyes was a fraction of a beat slower than before, making the smile less professionally sweet and more elusive, almost compassionate, and calm.

The reporters at the scene chattered among themselves, and the sound of shutter clicks intensified. The fan zone's whispers became: "Oh my god, Liu Liu seems to have reached a new level of beauty!" "I can't put it into words, I just feel more... sophisticated?" "She has such a strong aura, but she also seems so lonely."

She sat in the interview area and answered the host's questions with a steady tone and appropriate words, but her eyes lacked the enthusiasm she had in the past when she actively interacted with the audience and the camera. It was more like she was calmly stating the facts.

When she wasn't talking, she'd occasionally experience a brief moment of detachment, a moment in which she seemed to have withdrawn from the hustle and bustle of the scene, transported to another time and space. It wasn't arrogance or disrespect, but rather a kind of...absent-minded concentration.

"Yifan is in such a special state today, she looks even more beautiful. Do you have any special beauty secrets?" The host asked this question with a smile, expressing the thoughts of many people.

Liu Yifan raised his lips slightly, an almost polite smile: "Thank you. I've been mainly preparing for a new play lately, so I'm probably more immersed in it, and my life has been relatively simple."

The Q&A continued in its usual format, but the veteran journalists and fashion critics on the scene had already keenly noticed the change. Descriptions like this began to appear in the backstage instant drafts:

"After disappearing for three months, Liu Yifan made a stunning appearance. Her temperament has transformed, and her beauty is even more story-telling."

"Liu Yifan appeared at a brand event, looking cool and distant, suspected to be immersing herself in her new role."

"During the group interview, Liu Yifan spoke concisely and with a clear gaze, earning praise for her 'appearance reaching new heights.'"

No one can accurately say where the "sense of story" and "alienation" come from, and can only generally attribute it to "more beautiful."

Only a few people who knew the inside story, such as Lin Na and Chen Feng who followed the reports on the Internet, understood what it was - it was Bao Si's shadow, the mark left on her after months of facing the palace alone, facing herself, and even facing Zhou Ping'an's huge and silent will.

That kind of beauty, a mixture of extreme concentration, invisible pressure and a hint of imperceptible fatigue, is dangerous and charming.

The online reaction was even more immediate and direct. Related topics quickly heated up in comments during the live broadcast and on social media:

- The entry "Liu Yifan's status" was followed by a red word "explosion".

- "Is it my illusion? Emperor Liu seems to have practiced some peerless magic. His eyes can kill me!"

- "What kind of magic elixir did this sister take in Xiangbei? Is this beauty and temperament real?"

- "It feels like she didn't go there to film a movie, but to survive a catastrophe... and now she's ascended to become a god."

- "Oh my god, that feeling of alienation and fragility, of nobility and brittleness, is absolutely amazing! My expectations for "The Fallen Kingdom" have suddenly skyrocketed!"

At the event, in the backstage lounge, Yang Wei put a coat on Liu Yifan and couldn't help but sigh softly, "Yifan, you look... different today."

Liu Yifan looked up at herself in the mirror, her gaze momentarily dazed. After more than three months immersed in that ancient time and space, acting out joys and sorrows before the earthen walls and the empty throne, she suddenly returned to this world of fame and fortune, a world of elegant women, glitz and glamour. The intense sense of disconnection made her feel a little uneasy.

She needs to muster some energy to put on the mask of "female star Liu Yifan" again.

"Really?" she replied softly, her tone devoid of emotion. She knew she had changed. Six months of extreme solitude and focus had, like a high-intensity spiritual tempering, reshaped her to her core.

The alienation and huge sense of nothingness from the world around her that belonged to "Bao Si" had quietly seeped in, and even when playing "Liu Yifan", it could not be completely removed.

As soon as the event ended, Liu Yifan left quickly under the escort of her team without staying for long. She seemed to have completed a necessary procedure and was eager to return to the "palace" filled with the smell of clay that was her true home.

On the plane returning to Xiangbei, she looked at the sea of ​​clouds outside the window and realized clearly for the first time that the character had silently seeped into her limbs like mercury.

She took away a part of Bao Si, and Bao Si was reshaping her. The glitz and glamour of the business world, once a part of her life, now felt like it was separated by a layer of frosted glass, distant and unreal.

Did Zhou Ping'an also see reports or videos of her appearance through some channel? Would he evaluate this "change" in her, as if it met his expectations, just as he would the interim results of a project?

She didn't answer, but simply pulled down the sun visor and closed her eyes. The dim light in the cabin made her feel a little more comfortable.