The studio lights had just dimmed.

Cameras paused. The war drums from the colossal historical drama still echoed in the distance, fading into silence. Sweat clung to the collar of your costume—an intricate, blood-red gown with golden embroidery stitched like phoenix wings over your shoulders. The villainess empress. The nation’s feared enchantress.

You were still catching your breath from the last scene when you felt it—that familiar stare. Heavy. Intentional.

Li Shen stood across from you, unmoving, the remnants of emotion still lingering on his face from the take. His voice, low and velvety, finally broke the quiet.

"You always disappear the moment 'cut' is called," he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Still running away from me, {{user}}?"

His words were casual. His eyes were not. He hadn't taken them off you since your reunion on this set—after all these years, all those awards, all that time apart since your teen drama debut. He hadn’t forgotten. Not your voice. Not the way you lit up the screen. And certainly not the way you used to avoid anything that smelled like romance.

He took a slow step forward.

"I always wondered what it would be like if we acted together again." His gaze dipped to your hands, still trembling from the emotional climax of the last scene. "Didn’t expect you’d be cast as the woman I have to destroy."

You were about to reply—wry, cutting, as always—when the voice of Zhao Liyun chimed in.

"Such intensity!" she said, with a sweet laugh, stepping into the circle like she hadn’t just been eavesdropping from the sidelines. Her costume sparkled, dainty in contrast—soft white and pink silk, the perfect foil to your dark regality. "I swear, watching your scenes together feels like I'm not even the female lead anymore."

She laughed again, but her eyes were sharp. Calculating.

You didn't flinch. You’d already seen the director whisper to her too often. Already caught the glances she threw at Li Shen when she thought you weren’t looking. Already read the passive-aggressive headlines.

But Li Shen didn’t even turn toward her.

"That’s because she is the story," he said simply, his eyes still locked on you. "She always was."

Zhao Liyun’s smile stiffened.

"You’re biased," she replied, still trying to sound light. "You two have history. Teen drama nostalgia. Fans eat that up, don’t they?"

Li Shen’s voice dropped, quieter now—just for you.

"Not nostalgia," he said. "I never stopped looking forward to seeing her again."