Li Qiuchi was still filming on set. All the previous years, she’d always spent New Year’s Eve alone. By now, she was used to it. To her, the holiday was barely different from any other day—no special feeling at all.
“Sis, the director said once we finish this scene this afternoon, we can go home.” Yuan Qi handed her a hand-warmer with thoughtful care.
Li Qiuchi took the hand-warmer, gazing out the window. She murmured, “So it’s New Year’s Eve today.”
But it didn’t really matter much to her.
“It’s Lunar New Year’s Eve already. Tsk, some people must not even have dinner plans.” Hearing that voice, Li Qiuchi frowned and shot a cold look at the speaker.
Her name was Ruan An’an. They were once good friends, but after entering the industry together, they had a falling out over the lead female role in a drama.
After that, Ruan An’an often stabbed her in the back.
By coincidence, they both ended up in the cast of this new drama—Li Qiuchi as the lead again, while Ruan An’an had to settle for a scheming second-female role.
Ruan An’an stood with her arms crossed, looking completely at ease as she addressed Li Qiuchi. “You really are all alone these years, always spending the holidays by yourself.”
Back when they were friends, Li Qiuchi had confided a few personal things to her. Luckily, she hadn’t said much; otherwise, Ruan An’an would surely be using it for mockery now.
A poor choice in friends—maybe this was what people meant by that saying.
“Qiuchi-jie isn’t alone. I’m spending the holiday with her,” Yuan Qi stepped in to shield Li Qiuchi.
Ruan An’an sneered. “How loyal. You’re like a little lapdog.”
With that, she turned and swaggered off toward the director.
“You…” Yuan Qi looked ready for a fight, but for the crowd.
“Don’t get mad. I’ll deal with her later.” Li Qiuchi’s voice was cold. There was a fierce glint in her eyes as she looked at Ruan An’an.
Just one more scene—finish it and they could wrap up for the day.
And this final scene was a confrontation between her and Ruan An’an—a physical altercation, even.
Li Qiuchi walked to the director and said something in a low voice before strolling up to Ruan An’an, shooting her a playful, challenging look. “The director says: this fight scene? He wants it to be for real.”
Ruan An’an’s face soured immediately. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
Usually, slapping scenes are just staged carefully, never actually landing a hit—Ruan An’an clearly hadn’t expected Li Qiuchi to pull out this trick today.
Li Qiuchi only smiled, saying nothing.
The scene involved the cunning second female lead framing the protagonist and getting her fired by doctoring company accounts.
Everything was ready. As the director called “Action!” Li Qiuchi switched instantly into character.
She quietly packed her things at her desk, ready to leave.
Ruan An’an strode in, wearing a smug smile. “You can take a good break now. Don’t worry, I’ll handle the work you left me.”
Li Qiuchi looked at her calmly. “You think I don’t know what you did?”
Her eyes were shrouded, seething with the anger her character was meant to show—she slipped right into the part.
“Me? What did I do? Do you have any proof? If not, you’re just slandering me.” Ruan An’an’s lines came out stilted and awkward, unable to keep up with Li Qiuchi’s acting flow.
Li Qiuchi kept silent, her eyes simmering with restrained emotion, lips pressed tight.
Ruan An’an continued, brimming with arrogance, “So what if you know? Does anyone believe you now? Once you’re gone, this office will be mine. See? Whether it’s men or career, you can’t win against me.”
Li Qiuchi had no lines left—only her eyes. Vengeful malice replaced gloom as Ruan An’an turned to leave. Li Qiuchi lunged, grabbing Ruan An’an’s hair, slamming her onto the desk, and slapped her hard across the face.
The slap was real, and Ruan An’an was stunned, clutching her cheek and glaring resentfully at Li Qiuchi.
“Cut!” the director called out suddenly.
He sighed at Ruan An’an. “Not good enough. Your expressions are too stiff. We’ll do it again.”
Ruan An’an, holding her cheek, looked at the director, stunned. “Again?”
Her tone sounded like a challenge. The director’s expression instantly darkened. Ruan An’an bit her lip and swallowed her complaints.
They went through the lines again. Li Qiuchi’s actions were fluid; she grabbed Ruan An’an’s hair and brought her hand down—smack!
“Cut!” the director called again.
“Why are you dodging?”
His tone was grim. Ruan An’an had instinctively flinched before the slap landed—which was far from convincing.
It was New Year’s Eve, and everyone just wanted to finish the scene and go home for their reunion dinner. Ruan An’an’s behavior was wearing on everyone’s patience.
“Sorry, director.” Ruan An’an’s face was beet-red, burning with pain from two solid slaps.
The director had someone touch up her makeup before going again.
An hour later, the scene finally passed. Ruan An’an’s face was visibly swollen and red.
Her assistant came and pressed an ice pack to her cheek as Ruan An’an shot daggers at Li Qiuchi. Her anger reached a boiling point, but all she could do was stew in silence—there was nothing she could do to retaliate.
Li Qiuchi shot her a taunting look, raising her eyebrows as if to say: "Did you enjoy that beatdown?"
Ruan An’an was so furious she nearly cracked her own molars.
Everyone began packing up, eager to head home.
Li Qiuchi stood by the window, gazing out absentmindedly.
Her phone rang, but she didn’t seem to hear it until Yuan Qi brought it to her side.
It was Bryce Shaw calling. Li Qiuchi collected herself and answered.
“Xiao Chi, are you coming home tonight?”
His voice was as gentle as ever, a balm to her nerves. Just hearing him lifted Li Qiuchi’s mood, every single time.
Honestly, she was only going home to see Bryce Shaw. Since getting together with him, her heart had found its anchor—no longer drifting as before.
There was a brief pause on the other end. “I’m already at your filming location.”
Li Qiuchi froze for a moment—and then, joy she couldn’t hide blossomed on her face. She dashed out, eyes searching. Bryce Shaw was waiting outside, clad in a black, knee-length down jacket, white snow flecked on his shoulders, nose red from the cold—who knew how long he’d waited.
Because outsiders weren’t allowed on set—and also because they hadn’t gone public as a couple—he waited outside to spare her the gossip.
Li Qiuchi’s heart twisted with guilt and affection. She ran into his arms and hugged him tight. “Why are you here?”
Bryce Shaw held her gently. “I saw you were filming, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”
She was still in costume, makeup untouched. The moment she learned he was waiting, she’d rushed out.
With most people gone for the holiday, few saw them together.
She took his hand. “It’s freezing. Come inside and warm up.”
She’d been on set for nearly half a month, and after so many days apart, sparks flew instantly between them...