Chapter 210

The set lights blazed to life.

Lucy White glided onto the scene in a pale yellow chiffon gown, the pearls in her hair swaying with each graceful step. As she pushed open the courtyard gate, sunlight spilled across her porcelain face, her almond eyes crinkling into crescents. "Senior Brother!"

That honeyed voice made Director Jude Miller jerk upright behind the monitor.

"Cut!" The assistant director slapped his thigh in excitement. "Those eyes—perfection!"

Ryan Choi stood frozen. He'd never seen Lucy like this—radiant, her expressive eyes sparkling like a cherished junior disciple straight out of a martial arts novel.

Three scenes flowed seamlessly.

"Ms. White's acting is phenomenal," a crew member murmured. "Even Mr. Choi got swept up in her performance."

Lily Green lurked in the shadows, her nails digging into her palms. She watched as staff flocked around Lucy with water and towels, even the director personally giving notes. Her chest tightened like she'd swallowed cotton.

"Your turn," a production assistant reminded her.

Lily took a deep breath and stepped into frame. This was her specialty—a tearful reunion between the heroine and her long-lost father. The tears came on cue. She shot the director a confident look.

"Again!" Director Jude frowned. "The tear falls after the line, not like a leaky faucet!"

By the fifth take, Ryan's wig was soaked with sweat. His gaze drifted to the rest area—Lucy was handing out chilled drinks to extras, earning a beaming grin from a young actress.

"Action!"

Lily suddenly had an epiphany. She softened her posture, clutching Ryan's sleeve with glistening eyes. "Senior Brother, you're all I have now..." Her gaze flickered toward the camera.

"Cut!" Jude hurled his script. "You're playing a warrior, not a mistress!"

The assistant director leaned in to whisper, "But this version has more viral potential..."

On the monitor, Lily "accidentally" stumbled into Ryan's arms, her collar slipping just enough to reveal a sliver of skin.

"Fine. Keep it." Jude massaged his temples. "Melodrama thrives on controversy anyway."

Wrapping past midnight, Lily hurled her phone at the sight of the trending hashtag: #LucyPeriodDramaMagic. She didn't realize the cameras had captured every sanctimonious move.

Meanwhile, at an upscale club:

"Julian Chase chasing someone?" His friend twirled a champagne flute, grinning. "Call her already!"

Julian traced the stolen set photo on his phone—Lucy in yellow gauze, bandaging a crew member's hand, her profile gilded by sunset.

"Patience." He drained his glass. "The real show's just beginning."

The chandelier cast shifting shadows across his unreadable gaze.