In almost a split second, the moment his voice fell, the previously languid figure in the lens suddenly changed his gaze—it became bone-chillingly cold.

Gu Qichi had stripped away every shadow of his own self. His posture, his tone, and even the smallest micro-movements were molded into something entirely new. In this moment, he was simply Shen Qingye; he was simply this character.

How could Shen Qingye not hate?

Spending his days feigning compliance with his father’s murderer, greeting him with a smile, walking on thin ice with every step—wasn’t it all for today?

He walked step by step to the Dragon Bed, looking down from above at the most noble person in the world. Yet, there was no respect in his eyes, only dripping sarcasm, as if he were sizing up a lump of rotting meat.

The moment Wen Shi made contact with that gaze, he reacted instantly.

The old Emperor’s eyes were cloudy, the whites yellowed, and his lips, tinged with a bruised purple, trembled involuntarily as he shakily called out the name: “Qingye…”

He reached out a hand, trying to grasp the other’s sleeve, like a dying man trying to grab a piece of driftwood to survive.

According to the past routine, Shen Qingye would certainly lean in, his expression respectful, listening to what Shi Chu had to say. When finished, a look of beauty would bloom at the corners of his eyes and brows as he offered soothing comfort: “Rest assured, Your Majesty, this subject will certainly see it done.”

But today, the Shen Qingye played by Gu Qichi not only didn’t lean in, he turned sideways to dodge.

Wen Shi, playing Shi Chu, was visibly stunned. Immediately following this, he saw Gu Qichi tilt his head.

It was as if Wen Shi had only just seen clearly what Gu Qichi was wearing—a set of plain white mourning robes. In this palace, such clothes could only be worn when a monarch passed away.

Rage instantly seized Wen Shi’s heart, and his body began to shake uncontrollably.

“Lighting crew, move forward a bit, keep clear of Gu Qichi’s standing mark.”

The camera zoomed in following Gu Qichi’s movements, capturing Wen Shi’s reaction with crystal clarity.

How could the Emperor, the supreme ruler of the nine realms, tolerate such provocation and cursing? He immediately tried to prop himself up in anger, but Gu Qichi suddenly let out a laugh.

His delivery was impeccable. The enunciation was crisp, the lines delivered with precise emotional placement, and the on-set audio equipment captured his voice perfectly without any instability in his breath.

Gu Qichi lazily lifted his eyelids. Usually, when playing Shen Qingye, he would wear heavy red eyeshadow to deepen the aura of enchantment and seduction. Today, however, there was none. It was an extreme purity and whiteness, yet his eyes seemed quenched in ice and snow—piercingly cold.

“Your Majesty, are you satisfied with what you see?” Gu Qichi slowly, methodically pulled a small white porcelain bottle from his sleeve. It was stoppered with red wood, and one could only hear the sound of pills rolling inside, unable to judge what it contained. “In the past, the Shen family was executed entirely. As the son of a criminal subject, I was cast into the palace harem, unable to attend the funeral. But today is different. I finally have the opportunity to wear these mourning robes.”

As if he felt the stimulation wasn’t enough for the Emperor, Gu Qichi lazily shifted his tone. His voice held a smile, yet the mockery within was unmistakable: “None of the princes are by Your Majesty’s side. Oh, that’s not right—the princes have all returned to the afterlife. I’m afraid there is no one left to collect Your Majesty’s corpse. Only I, this eunuch, remain to keep watch over Your Majesty.”

The flow of this scene was incredibly smooth. Even Lin Shuangyi, watching behind the monitor, was filled with admiration. Song Zhian wasn’t on set, currently filming with the martial arts director in Studio A. The producer exchanged a glance with Lin Shuangyi and couldn’t help but speak up: “I feel like this drama is going to turn into The Legend of Shen Qingye. Do you think Song Zhian’s fans will riot?”

The producer had a point, but Lin Shuangyi couldn’t be bothered to care. “Let them riot. The book fans aren’t exactly pushovers either; my Weibo comment section is already a war zone.”

“Besides,” Lin Shuangyi continued, “Gu Qichi is technically the second male lead, but his screen time is roughly the same as Teacher Wen Shi’s. In fact, he acts as a backdrop for Wen Shi. That he can hold down this role is due to his own capability. Even if he explodes in popularity, it will be because of his acting skills, unlike Song Zhian who brought capital into the group and frantically added scenes to get famous.”

“If his fans aren’t happy, what can we do?” Lin Shuangyi scoffed. “Their ‘brother’ was the one who rushed to use the Song family’s pressure to film this, the scenes were added, and the big male lead highlights were given to him. It’s not like his fans can eat me alive.”

Feeling that Lin Shuangyi made sense, the producer nodded vigorously and went back to admiring Gu Qichi’s face on the monitor, sighing in praise: “I have to say, Gu Qichi was born to eat this bowl of rice. His acting is seasoned, his emotions abundant, and his foundation in dialogue is excellent. When you told me he wasn’t a traditionally trained actor, it gave me a fright.”

Lin Shuangyi smiled along. “Yes, who would have thought? Such an uncut gem was left with no roles to film due to those rumors online. I felt sorry for him.”

He took a sip of the coffee at his hand and lamented, “Fortunately, he’s about to make it through.”

The producer looked at Gu Qichi, still deep in character, and felt emotional. Over the three months in the crew, he had watched Gu Qichi step by step. He was humble, kind, and polite to the crew. Even the nearby sanitation workers had received mung bean soup from him to cool off in the heat. It was truly hard to connect him with the twisted person portrayed on the internet.

“This child… after he makes it through, his future will be limitless.”

—

Inside the lens, Gu Qichi was gripping Wen Shi’s chin, holding a black Malteser in his hand. His expression was ruthless, bordering on madness: “Your Majesty, did you think the reason you are paralyzed in bed day after day is truly because of that nonsense the imperial doctors speak of?”

“I forgot to tell you. The First Prince was executed for treason, the Third Prince has a permanent leg disability—all orchestrated by my hand. And the Sixth Prince you hold so dear has just died alongside Consort Shu in Changle Palace…”

“As for the Second Prince…” Gu Qichi paused here, his eyes narrowing slightly, eyelashes sweeping up. He twirled the white porcelain bottle in his hand, his long, slender fingers wrapping around it. For a moment, one couldn’t tell which was whiter—his hand or the porcelain.

Gu Qichi took a quiet step, staring toward the north with a faint smile, before continuing: “His Highness the Second Prince is currently leading a rebel army and is about to breach Chang’an. As far as I know, the Second Prince is fighting under the banner of ‘Clearing away the wicked from the Emperor’s side.’ Only, I wonder if this Emperor will still be alive when he arrives.”

On the bright yellow Dragon Bed, Wen Shi’s expression turned hideous. His fake mustache curled up from his anger, his pupils constricted violently, and his nostrils flared with his breathing.

“You… you dare to murder Us… Traitor! Traitor!”

The more urgently he spoke, the more rapid his breath became, his chest heaving violently until he spat out a mouthful of blood. Yet, his eyes remained fixed on Gu Qichi, his trembling finger pointing at Gu’s nose as he roared: “We will execute your nine generations!”

Gu Qichi picked up the “pill” and forcefully stuffed it into Wen Shi’s mouth, his smile faint.

Dressed in pure white, he looked like a pristine snow lotus on a high, cold mountain, but in reality, he was a datura flower watered with blood from the depths of hell.

The “poison” of the Malteser worked quickly. Before long, when Wen Shi acted out his death from poison, Lin Shuangyi shouted a crisp “Cut!”

Whenever the scene involved Gu Qichi and Teacher Wen Shi, it went exceptionally smoothly; most of the time, they passed in one take. Lin Shuangyi checked the scene from start to finish again, found nothing to pick at, and waved his hand to clear it.

Cries of “Happy Wrap, Teacher Wen Shi!” rose one after another across the set, the atmosphere warm and enthusiastic.

Hearing this, Gu Qichi smiled, handed Wen Shi a pack of tissues, and whispered, “Teacher Wen, happy wrap.”

Wen Shi accepted the flowers handed over by the staff, his eyes merry. Time had carved lines into his face, but they only added a gentle foundation. Wen Shi patted Gu Qichi’s shoulder: “It’ll be your turn soon. After the next scene, you’ll wrap too, right?”

Gu Qichi nodded. In truth, the person he was most familiar with on this set wasn’t Lin Shuangyi, but Teacher Wen Shi. He was an admirable senior who would always smile and pat Gu’s hand during breaks, explain scenes to him, and share interesting experiences from other sets in the past.

Gu Qichi liked being around him. He didn’t know why, but he could always find traces of something called “father” in Wen Shi’s face.

Wen Shi’s gentleness and patience were things Gu Chengtian had never deigned to give Gu Qichi. Those late-night teachings and mutual companionship felt incredibly precious to him.

Suddenly, a sense of reluctance rose in his heart. Sensing his slight dejection, Wen Shi smiled and patted his shoulder again, as if treating a child who wouldn’t grow up: “Xiao Chi, we will meet again. You must be happier in life, smile a little more.”

Gu Qichi nodded very seriously. “I will, Teacher Wen.”

---

By the time they shot the next scene, it was already early morning. Song Zhian’s scenes were difficult, and his lack of control led to many retakes.

Lin Shuangyi was adjusting the blocking for the confrontation between Gu Qichi and Song Zhian. Gu Qichi wasn’t needed at the moment, so the beauty wrapped himself in a down jacket and chatted with Bo Yu.

The man on the other end was a bit impatient, constantly asking when he would be done. In fact, ever since Bo Yu had obtained Gu Qichi’s recent schedule, his face had visibly darkened.

Gu Qichi didn’t feel much about it, but he pitied the employees of the Bo Corporation. Not only did they have to shoulder a lethal workload every day, but they also had to spare energy to resist the low pressure radiating from President Bo. It was mentally and physically exhausting.

Fortunately, President Bo’s mood had improved significantly in the last two days. The entire Bo Corporation showed signs of warming up, and some even boldly asked Bai Heng: “Assistant Bai, is there some happy event in the group recently? Why is President Bo so happy?”

Bai Heng glanced at them faintly, confirming Bo Yu’s recent itinerary in his hand, but couldn’t help revealing in a whisper: “The Madam is coming back. President Bo is going to personally pick the Madam up. Of course, he’s happy to see him.”

” Is President Bo really married?! Assistant Bai, I thought the ring on President Bo’s hand was worn for fun, to prevent harassment.”

Bai Heng was speechless. He shot the person a look and lectured unceremoniously, “What are you thinking? Does President Bo have the leisure to do that sort of thing?”

Seeing the other person wanted to ask more, clearly interested in Gu Qichi, Bai Heng paused. Remembering Bo Yu’s reaction on the plane last time, he withdrew his joking expression and warned seriously: “Don’t think wild thoughts. The Madam is a noble and elegant young master, and he and President Bo are very much in love. There is nothing else to it.”

The employee was startled, but Bai Heng ignored him; Bo Yu was rushing to meet Gu Qichi.

[Clingy Spirit]: Still not done filming?

[Wife]: Just the last scene left, then I wrap.

[Clingy Spirit]: But it’s already very late. Doesn’t Lin Shuangyi consider your physical health?

Gu Qichi was speechless. Seeing Lin Shuangyi wasn’t nearby, he immediately replied:

[Wife]: Bo Yu, do you remember that you are a sinful capitalist yourself?

The reply came quickly—

[Clingy Spirit]: Don’t remember.

[Clingy Spirit]: But I can’t wait to video call you.

Gu Qichi was helpless. He looked up at Lin Shuangyi working with the various crew members, then glanced at his script a few more times. After ensuring he had memorized it perfectly, he allowed his mind to wander elsewhere.

Bo Yu was currently handling a large order in Country Y. As the New Year approached, the number of plans skyrocketed. Coupled with Gu Qichi’s extremely unstable filming schedule, the frequency and duration of their video calls had dropped linearly.

After wrapping this up, he only had two days of rest before going to record a variety show. He was afraid it would be hard to see Bo Yu then, too.

Lin Shuangyi finished arranging the set and called all actors to their positions. Gu Qichi pressed his lips together, only having time to send a hasty message before throwing himself wholeheartedly into work.

[Wife]: Time isn’t certain, don’t wait for me.

The final scene was the death of Shen Qingye. It was Gu Qichi’s highlight scene, and also Song Zhian’s.

Lin Shuangyi placed extreme importance on this scene, emphasizing the blocking and emotional fluctuations of the dialogue over and over again. He also intentionally or unintentionally kept a distance between Song Zhian and Gu Qichi.

Gu Qichi held the script, wearing a not-so-thick down jacket, and consciously avoided Song Zhian’s gaze.

Speaking of which, Song Zhian hadn’t had time to harass him lately. Firstly, Song Zhian’s highlight scenes were concentrated in this period, separated from the palace in a different studio, so they rarely saw each other. Secondly, Song Zhian seemed to be plagued by bad luck recently; his resources and endorsements were dropping, and even bringing up the Song family was of no use.

Although the look in his eyes was still disgusting, the frequency had greatly decreased, and Gu Qichi’s mood improved considerably.

This scene took place at night. Within the palace, beneath a starry sky, the firelight from outside the city walls stained half the heavens red. Shi Tianlin was leading his army to breach the palace gates, while Gu Qichi walked amidst the heavy snow.

The snow was indeed falling heavily. Thick snow had taken shape on the ground, and when Gu Qichi stepped on it, his boots would occasionally press down on unknown spots, making a crunching sound.

Unlike the daytime scenes, he didn’t hold an umbrella tonight. He simply wore that thin garment, a crimson blade at his waist, walking through the snow.

His eyelashes were excessively long. In the last magazine shoot, they couldn’t get natural snow to land on his lashes and had to use rhinestones. This time, however, the snowflakes were caught by Gu Qichi’s lashes themselves.

The cameras on both sides pushed in continuously. As Gu Qichi approached, the imposing Song Zhian led the extras, killing his way in.

Song Zhian’s face wore battle-damage makeup painted with blood. Carrying a long blade, he slaughtered his way to Gu Qichi.

Before him was the tiger-like gaze of Shi Tianlin; behind him were countless people who wanted his life. But Shen Qingye seemed unaware, standing quietly, all alone in this vast whiteness.

He tilted his head, toying with a small tassel on the crimson blade, his tone indifferent, as if the person in a fatal predicament wasn’t him. “I didn’t expect it. You really forced your way in.”

Song Zhian, playing Shi Tianlin, hefted his long blade, his black metallic armor stained with fake blood. Pointing the blade at Gu Qichi, he mocked: “Shen Qingye, did you ever think this day would come? You harmed me until I was this wretched; did you never think that one day I would come back for revenge?”

Gu Qichi’s eyes remained calm and rippleless, as still as a pool of dead water. He offered no smile to Song Zhian. After the last incident, he couldn’t even be bothered to fake a smile for Shi Tianlin.

“It was just a miscalculation of one move. Winning and losing… it is originally just an inconsequential game.”

The scene didn’t go smoothly. Song Zhian constantly failed to grasp the correct emotion, and his method of acting was flawed. Lin Shuangyi was dissatisfied and kept yelling “NG” to cut him.

It wasn’t until many takes later, when snow covered Gu Qichi’s body and his fingertips turned purple from the cold, that the scene was allowed to continue.

This was a doomed scenario. Shen Qingye was destined to lose, simply because he was not the protagonist.

The moment Song Zhian’s long blade plunged into his chest, Gu Qichi was forced to stumble back, a piercing pain radiating from his heart.

There was no resentment in his eyes, no unwillingness. Only a desolate sense of release remained.

Shen Qingye lost on the words “Loyalty” and “Benevolence,” but he never once betrayed the word “Filial.”

Everything he did was for the Shen family. He climbed step by step, and when he stood at the center of the vortex of power, his first act was not to eliminate dissidents, but to overturn unjust cases for the Shen family. He finally managed to clear the Shen family’s name.

Gu Qichi admired Shen Qingye; he even loved this character. Shen Qingye spent his whole life being pushed forward by others—first by his parents and clan, then by a blood feud. He was always forced, always without choice, which was why he carried so much.

But Shen Qingye was actually the finest young man in the world. In the end, he didn’t lose himself.

After the long blade pierced his chest and the blood pack burst, Song Zhian stepped back slightly. Immediately following, the “soldiers” on horseback fired a volley of ten thousand arrows. Countless arrows tore through the silent night air with a whistling sound, nailing into Gu Qichi’s chest one after another.

This special effects makeup was difficult to apply, so the prop masters spent a long time adjusting it before Lin Shuangyi was satisfied.

Shen Qingye died. The ultimate purity and whiteness died in this cleanest of snowy nights.

A light hung upside down overhead, appearing as a dazzling halo in the lens. Gu Qichi covered his chest with one hand, while the other reached out tentatively toward that beam of light.

In the script, in his final moments, Shen Qingye saw his father.

The man had no blame for him, only smiling with eyes curved in warmth: “Xiao Ye, you’re tired. Come to Dad.”

Parents don’t care what mistakes their children have made; they only care if they are happy.

When Gu Qichi closed his eyes, his mind was left with only a sense of loss.

This three-month-long TV drama had finally come to an end, and it had also walked its way into Gu Qichi’s heart.

When Lin Shuangyi yelled “Pass,” amidst the cheers of the staff and the flowers being handed over, Gu Qichi still felt a sense of unreality.

Staff members immediately lined up in a long queue to greet and hug him. Song Zhian originally wanted to participate, but Lin Shuangyi unceremoniously kicked him out of the line, claiming he needed to study the next scene.

When it was finally Lin Shuangyi’s turn, he simply patted Gu’s shoulder and said, “There will be plenty of time in the future.”

Then, he smiled and teased, “Also, go home early. If you don’t go back, that kid Bo Yu is going to come over and kill us.”

Gu Qichi had to nod in cooperation.

It wasn’t until he walked out of the set and saw the familiar car at the gate that he understood what Lin Shuangyi meant.

Bo Yu, holding a bouquet of pure white Lisianthus, pulled him into his embrace, whispering intimately against his ear: “Gu Qichi, Happy Wrap.”

The moment Gu Qichi took the flowers, he suddenly remembered the language of white Lisianthus—

Unchanging, everlasting love.