Her mind wandered briefly to the Empress once more. The character had chosen shackles willingly, surrendering her freedom for love she could not claim. Shen Ruyi, she reminded herself, would never make that choice. She would honor the past Shen Ruyi's loyalty, respecting the body's history, but she would not allow it to dictate her present or future.
She adjusted her posture, straightened the costume sketches, and smiled faintly at her reflection. The Empress was a cautionary tale, a mirror of loss, but she, Shen Ruyi, would become the architect of her own fate.
The room buzzed faintly as the costume designer entered, rattling hangers and fabrics, followed by the makeup team. The energy in the room shifted from still contemplation to purpose, focus, and preparation. Shen Ruyi immersed herself in the work, blending observation, study, and intuition.
Outside, the set remained alive with activity. Jiang Yuanzhi had taken his place for preliminary blocking, surrounded by assistants, lighting crews, and his personal stylists. The air was electric, a mixture of anticipation, fame, and controlled chaos. Fans pressed outside the gates, unaware of the small, subtle storm brewing in the dressing room where Shen Ruyi's mind churned with strategy, reflection, and determination.
She had seen him. She had felt the pull of memory and recognition. And yet, she remained unmoved. The worlds might intersect briefly, but they would not collide.
Shen Ruyi inhaled deeply, letting the moment solidify in her mind. She was now the Empress of a nation, yes, but she was also the actress, the strategist, and the woman who would not surrender her dreams to a man who did not reciprocate. She would play her role. She would master it. And one day, if destiny permitted, she would reclaim the narrative of her life entirely.
Until then, she prepared. One line at a time, one gesture at a time, one carefully measured breath at a time. The filming would begin, and she would be ready.
And when the cameras rolled, the world would see not a pitiful Empress or a neglected fiancée, but a woman alive with purpose, unwavering in resolve, and dangerous in her potential to rise.
***
The makeup brush lifted from Shen Ruyi's cheek, leaving behind the final trace of pale powder that gave her complexion the regal dignity of the Empress she was to portray. The stylists stepped back with satisfied nods, murmuring among themselves about how well the costume suited her.
Layers of embroidered silk in deep crimson and gold draped her figure, the fabric heavy with authority yet graceful as it trailed down her frame. A phoenix coronet rested upon her head, its gemstones shimmering faintly under the dressing room's bright lights. Shen Ruyi studied herself in the mirror, her eyes calm, sharp, and steady. She wasn't just Shen Ruyi now, she was the Empress of a nation, proud and unbending.
"Perfect," the head stylist whispered.
But before she could respond, the air on set shifted. A rising wave of commotion echoed through the corridors, the sound of hurried footsteps, muffled squeals, and cameras snapping.
Shen Ruyi didn't need to see her to know who it was. The murmurs of the crew confirmed it quickly enough.
"Wei Changning is here."
"She's late again, isn't she?"
"Twenty minutes late. No, almost thirty."
"The director won't let this slide…"
Wei Changning, Jiang Yuanzhi's white moonlight, the woman who once held his heart so tightly that he had never truly let go. Even though she had long since chosen another man, leaving Yuanzhi with nothing but scars, the memory of her still lingered. To the fans, she was perfection itself, talented, breathtaking, and untouchable.
And now, she was Shen Ruyi's rival.
The door swung open with a sharp clatter. Wei Changning stepped in, radiant in her casual wear, sunglasses perched on her delicate nose. Her long hair cascaded down her back in waves of black silk, and she held herself with effortless confidence, as if every eye on her was a natural state of being.
Her entrance was deliberately flashy, a calculated show of star power. Assistants trailed behind her, arms burdened with designer bags and garment cases. Cameras from entertainment reporters had followed her all the way to the lot, and her fans had screamed themselves hoarse just moments ago.
But instead of adoration, the crew members on set exchanged uneasy glances. Their workday had been derailed once again.
The director was waiting.
He stepped forward with his usual stern expression, his hands tucked firmly behind his back, eyes like knives. His punctuality was legendary, and to him, time was not a courtesy but a law.
"You're late." His voice cut sharply through the air.
Changning froze for a fraction of a second before her lips curved into a dazzling smile, the kind that had melted countless fans on screens and billboards. "I apologize, Director. Traffic was unusually heavy this morning."
"Traffic?" His brows arched coldly. "Do you think I haven't worked in this industry long enough to know what that excuse means? You had three hours' notice of your call time. You arrived nearly thirty minutes late, and this is your first day on set." His tone was merciless, echoing through the dressing room. "Professionalism is expected, Miss Wei. Not excuses."
Changning's smile faltered ever so slightly, her fingers tightening on her designer handbag. She was used to flattery, not chastisement. The sting of public criticism was one she hadn't faced in a long while.
The director's glare didn't soften. "This is not a fan meeting, nor a red carpet appearance. You are here to work. If you cannot arrive on time, perhaps you should reconsider your priorities."
Crew members lowered their gazes, some suppressing grins at the rare spectacle of the beloved star being scolded. Others winced, worried about the tension brewing.
Shen Ruyi, meanwhile, watched silently from her seat before the mirror. Her expression betrayed nothing, but inwardly, she marveled at the contrast.
The so-called white moonlight, who was so dazzling and proud, had entered like she owned the place, only to be cut down within seconds.