Chapter 30 – Three Hours
Nan Xiao’s voice was calm. She didn’t let her anger or sadness show. She thought this matter would just pass.
But she hadn’t expected Xie Chengyu’s expression to remain cold as he said, “Change that intimate scene. Don’t let Ruoxin act so revealingly.”
Nan Xiao’s heart clenched. She knew it wasn’t wise to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself: “Why? You don’t like seeing her with another man?”
“Mm.”
Xie Chengyu nodded indifferently.
Nan Xiao’s lips lost their color, her gaze dimming.
She blamed herself—why ask something she already knew the answer to?
“I’ll think about it.”
She turned away, pretending to tidy the script on the table, hiding the pain in her heart.
Xie Chengyu glanced at her back, lowered his eyes, and left the lounge.
—
The next morning, after a night of rest, Xu Ruoxin had recovered. With Xie Chengyu accompanying her, she returned to the set looking rosy, thanking everyone who had helped her yesterday.
Next was the reshoot of yesterday’s scene.
The night before, Zhou Ruicheng had received Xie Chengyu’s order: the script must be changed for Xu Ruoxin. But when he passed the message to Nan Xiao, she never replied. Calls went unanswered. Zhou Ruicheng was beside himself with worry.
“Director Zhou, where’s the new script?”
Xu Ruoxin, done with her pleasantries, walked over with a smile.
Zhou Ruicheng’s forehead broke out in sweat. Forcing a grin, he said, “It’s almost ready, don’t worry. I’ll have it for you soon…”
At the same time, he sent Nan Xiao another desperate text: “Xiao, where the hell are you???? Hurry back!!!! Don’t forget to change the script!!!!”
While he typed, Xie Chengyu noticed.
Somehow, he felt certain those messages were for Nan Xiao. Glancing at the entrance, he thought of her absence.
Just then, the door opened. Nan Xiao entered, bringing with her a woman of ordinary looks but striking figure. Everyone turned to stare.
Expression steady, Nan Xiao led the woman to Zhou Ruicheng. “Brother Zhou, this is a body double I found for Xu Ruoxin. She can perform all the bed and kissing scenes in her place.”
“Zhouzhou, turn around and show the director.”
The girl turned. Gasps rippled through the crew.
The resemblance was uncanny.
From behind, she was practically identical to Xu Ruoxin.
Zhou Ruicheng studied her, delighted. He hadn’t wanted to alter the script anyway. As a director, he knew changing it would dilute the emotion.
But their investor—Xie Chengyu—had to be satisfied. With a body double, the script could stay intact and his demands met. Perfect.
But Xu Ruoxin walked over, her beautiful face carrying a trace of anger. “This is my double? Miss Nan, I don’t agree.”
Yes, body doubles were common. But everyone knew only weaker actors relied on them. Good actors did everything themselves.
To be given a double felt like an insult.
“Director Zhou, I’ll shoot the scene myself,” she said firmly. “I don’t agree to a double.”
Nan Xiao’s tone was equally unyielding. “Miss Xu, the script can’t be changed. If you insist on filming, it must follow the original. Otherwise, the double will do it.”
She had spent a full day and night finding this double—skipping meals, skipping sleep. She was exhausted, but her eyes burned bright with determination.
The crew went silent.
“Chengyu.”
Xu Ruoxin softened her tone, looking at him with grievance. “I don’t want a double. No serious actor uses one. Isn’t that humiliating?”
Nan Xiao’s fists clenched tight.
Xie Chengyu stepped up to her, voice faint: “Didn’t we agree to change it?”
His tone was light, but Nan Xiao heard a chill in it. Maybe she was imagining it, but when she met his eyes, they were filled with indifference. No—she wasn’t imagining.
“Yesterday I said I’d consider it. I never promised. That’s one.” Nan Xiao kept her voice steady.
“Two, this scene truly cannot be changed. It’s the key turning point for the leads’ relationship. If altered, all the buildup collapses.”
Her words were a bit absolute—the buildup wouldn’t literally collapse. But as a dedicated scriptwriter, she believed only by perfecting every detail could they deliver a quality show.
If they compromised here and there, the work would become riddled with flaws. Not only she, but the audience would condemn it.
She laid it all out, then added: “Of course, if Miss Xu doesn’t wish to film, that’s fine. That’s why I brought in a body double.”
“The double looks very similar from behind. For that bed scene, only side and back angles are needed. With editing, no one will notice. It’s the best solution.”
But Xu Ruoxin thought: The double’s name will still appear in the credits.
Looking back at Xie Chengyu, she said, “I really can’t accept a double. No good actor would. Let me film it myself instead…”
Her words suggested compromise, but her tone carried just the right shade of wounded grievance. Anyone listening would feel sorry for her.
Xie Chengyu’s expression hardly changed, but his voice grew colder: “No double. You film it. Change the script.”
“But the script really can’t—”
“If you can’t change it, someone else will.”
He cut her off, his voice cool and final.
Nan Xiao’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“What did you say?”
If she refused, he would replace her?
For people of their standing, words carried deeper meaning. He was threatening to replace her as screenwriter.
Her fists clenched, anger and hurt surging through her until her whole body trembled.
“I can’t let anyone else change the script,” she said firmly.
Not altering the script was her bottom line.
Her work—her bottom line.
Xie Chengyu gave her a fleeting glance. “If you want to remain the writer of this drama, change it.”
He looked at his watch.
“I’ll give you three hours.”
