Chapter 6: First Day on Set (Or, How to Annoy a Director)

The set of Crimson Moon was a converted warehouse on the edge of the city, decorated to look like a gothic castle. Fake torches, real cobwebs, and a plastic throne that kept tipping over.

Shi Xi arrived at 6 AM, coffee in hand, ready to work. She was playing Mia, the pop star’s harried manager, who had exactly three expressions: worried, more worried, and slightly homicidal. It was a one-day shoot for her scenes.

The director, a nervous man named Director Lin, handed her a costume—a sensible blazer and a headset—and pointed to a corner. “Stand there. Look concerned. When the killer appears, scream. Not too loud. We have a noise ordinance.”

“Got it,” she said.

The lead actress, a pretty but wooden girl named Xiao Mei, was doing her makeup in a portable mirror. She glanced at Shi Xi and sniffed. “You’re the new girl? The one Gu Yan hired?”

“That’s me.”

“He doesn’t hire unknowns.” Xiao Mei’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

“Xi Nian. Unknown.” Shi Xi smiled. “Nice to meet you too.”

The first scene was simple: Mia the manager is on the phone, pacing, while the pop star (Xiao Mei) practices a dance in the background. The killer is supposed to appear in the mirror behind Mia, but she doesn’t notice.

Action.

Shi Xi launched into her performance. She didn’t just pace—she inhabited the space. Her phone call was half in English, half in Mandarin, a frantic negotiation with a fictional record label. She wrung her hands, tugged at her blazer, and managed to spill her coffee (prop coffee, thankfully) at exactly the right moment of frustration.

“Cut!” Director Lin stared at the monitor. “That was… that was actually good?”

Xiao Mei stomped over. “She’s overacting. This is a web drama, not the Oscars.”

“It’s called ‘acting,’” Shi Xi said sweetly. “You should try it sometime.”

The director snorted. Xiao Mei’s face turned the color of the fake blood.

They reset. This time, the killer’s cue was missed, so Shi Xi improvised: she turned, saw the empty doorway, and her face shifted from annoyance to a deep, primal knowing. She didn’t scream. She just went still.

“Cut! Perfect!” Director Lin clapped. “That’s the one!”

Xiao Mei stormed off set. The crew, mostly bored interns, gave Shi Xi approving nods.

From the shadows near the craft services table, Gu Yan watched. He wasn’t smiling. He was studying her like she was a puzzle he was desperate to solve.

[DING! Gu Yan’s interest level: 45%. Also, Xiao Mei has started a group chat called “Get Rid of the New Girl.”]

Of course she has, Shi Xi thought.

She grabbed a cup of actual coffee and walked toward Gu Yan. “Enjoying the show?”

“Immensely.” He took the coffee from her hand and drank it. “You’re too good for this production.”

“I know.”

“That’s not a brag. That’s a warning.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “People like Xiao Mei have long memories and short tempers. Watch your back.”

“I’ve survived worse than a B-list actress with a grudge.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you?”

For a moment, she almost told him the truth. That she was a retired legend. That she’d died. That this was all a book. But the system flashed a red warning in her peripheral vision: [DO NOT REVEAL TRANSMIGRATION. PENALTY: INSTANT FISH.]

She stepped back. “Thanks for the advice, Producer Gu. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a fake pop star to out-act.”

She walked away, but she felt his gaze on her back the entire time.