The mother of the protagonist she plays is preparing a sumptuous dinner, but she has to kill the entire family of three that night.
Wang Peng didn't tell her what kind of timing she should choose, which really put her on-the-spot performance to the test.
Anning sat down at the small square table, and looking at the simple yet cozy dinner on the table, a strange feeling rose in her heart.
She felt deep down that this meal wasn't made for her.
I don't know where this idea suddenly came from; it's inexplicable, yet it feels so real.
Sure enough, at that moment, the woman suddenly appeared in front of her with a plate of sweet and sour pork ribs. Just as Anning raised her chopsticks to pick up a piece and put it in her mouth, her hand was suddenly slapped.
The movement was very light; if she hadn't felt it herself, she might have thought it was just her imagination.
But that's not the case.
That is real.
The woman lightly patted the back of her hand, a gesture that served as a warning.
You're afraid that if you say those words, a knife will really fall on you.
An Ning raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
With each word An Ning spoke, her hand movements increased by a factor. The oppressive feeling brought by the sharp blade was particularly weak. Even though the man was a seasoned veteran actor, he dared not respond to An Ning's words at that moment.
An Ning immediately stopped, the bloodstained knife slammed under the cutting board with a backhand motion, a flustered expression on her face. "Sis, is he alright? Did you scare him? Did you really mean to hurt him...?"
What is the warning?
"That...that was reserved for Da Yu..." Although he was confident, the man still gritted his teeth and said it out loud, his voice filled with determination.
But if An Ning used the same force as seen from outside the camera, then it's considered a done deal.
"stop!"
Wang Peng, who was standing in the center, was silent for a few seconds before answering the question, "Worry? It's fake. The actor was covered in blood bags. An Ning probably punctured a blood bag. Did you see how slowly the blood was flowing?"
"Did you hear what he said? He said that if he made it for you last time, he would give it to his younger brother first this time, is that right?" An Ning's knife was still pressed against the man's lower body, but instead of pressing it in the original position, she moved the knife to the small artery in his neck.
An Ning's movements suddenly stopped, the tip of the knife resting precisely on the man's back. The sharp blade easily pierced through the man's thin clothing, and bright red blood seeped from where the knife tip had rested. The people in front of the camera gasped, their eyes frozen in shock.
The question was phrased rather tactfully; what the person actually wanted to ask was whether An Ning had truly stabbed someone or not.
If An Ning had stabbed him to the death... then the question now shouldn't be simply whether the blood flowing is real or fake, but whether it's a mixture of real and fake blood.
That counterattack was brilliantly executed; even a veteran actor with decades of experience was caught off guard and hesitated for half a second before finally replying, "You...you forgot your lines. Let me show you again."
Despite what you said, your movements didn't slow down at all, and the blade didn't even leave a bloody mark on the man's neck.
An Ning reasonably suspected that this was just a woman's excuse, and that someone else was actually the one who should be eating the sweet and sour pork ribs.
Was this sweet and sour pork ribs really made for her?
You quickly glanced at the kitchen decor and saw the remaining half of the tenderloin cut into a broken plate placed to the side, looking like you'd seen something funny before it was cooked. "He said... that was... was it also for my younger brother?"
An Ning was also someone who could be heavy-handed or heavy-handed. When she saw blood seeping from the man's back, she put down her hand and asked with a smile, her quick and deliberate manner revealing a hint of madness, "Mom, this sweet and sour pork ribs... was it really made especially for you?"
Even the man who never imagined his son could go that crazy was no longer afraid. Your body trembled slightly as you pressed yourself tightly against the kitchen counter, your voice shaking, "Da...Da Yu...he listened to you..."
The man was taking over the role again, and he called out softly.
An abnormal person would bleed very little if they were stabbed in a large gash.
The protagonist's mother made him eat sweet and sour pork ribs, which she claimed were specially made for him. In a fit of anger, the protagonist killed his mother... Isn't that a hard thing to understand?
Upon realizing this, An Ning suddenly understood why she had been pondering the timing of her actions. Wasn't this the perfect moment?
She was warned not to eat alone.
Without hesitation, An Ning immediately pulled out a knife. Her slender, white fingers were even casually playing with the sharp fruit knife—spinning it in circles so slowly it left afterimages, getting closer and closer to the back of the man who was walking back to the kitchen.
"So...did An Ning stab the right spot? Was the blood that flowed real or fake?"
From that position, all you need to do is deliver a powerful stab, and the opponent will undoubtedly die.
"Ah...that's bad, that's bad. You think you've scared me? I'm so sorry..." Anning put another hat on someone's head.
She didn't know who it was, but it definitely wasn't her.
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