The emperor sat in the imperial study, head bowed as he reviewed memorials. The Regent King sat on a round chair to his left, also looking down at a memorial he had unfolded. A eunuch shuffled forward and respectfully whispered something into the emperor's ear. The emperor set down the memorial and waved the eunuch away. "Let Changle come in." The eunuch obeyed and went outside the study to invite the Elder Princess in. Dressed in a crimson robe, the Elder Princess entered the study, bowing to the emperor and the Regent King in turn. She looked as dignified and elegant as a blooming peony. "Imperial Brother, Father Regent." "Sit down, Changle. No need to be so formal." The emperor gestured to her. The Elder Princess sat on a round chair to the emperor's right, hands crossed over her thighs, sitting upright and waiting quietly for the emperor to deliver his lines. The emperor picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, rolled up his sleeve, and began writing on a memorial. "Changle, I know why you have come." "Imperial Brother..." Before Su Zhiyi could finish her line, the director called out in dissatisfaction, "Cut. Zhiyi, your expression is off." Su Zhiyi's upright posture deflated like a balloon, and she slumped onto the round chair. Her brow held a faint weariness, and her voice was weak. "Sorry." This was the fifth NG. "Forget it... take a break and adjust." The director waved helplessly at a few actors dressed as ministers. "Let's shoot the next scene first. Pei Yan, you and Zhiyi rest for now." Pei Yan, who had been sitting on the round chair the whole time, closed the memorial he was holding and got up to walk out of the set. He had only taken a few steps when, as if remembering something, he uncontrollably looked back. Su Zhiyi was still sitting on the round chair. The young girl's eyes were lowered, her long, slender brows slightly furrowed, and she bit her lower lip, looking dejected and melancholy. Pei Yan froze for a moment. Then he said to Su Zhiyi in a very normal, flat tone, "Come over here for a moment." Su Zhiyi finally released her bitten lower lip. It was red and bore the imprint of her teeth. She looked up at Pei Yan's eyes. "Okay." They walked to the most secluded corner of the set. Pei Yan held his script. He flipped to the scene they had just done, glanced at it, then looked up at Su Zhiyi, who was standing before him. He spoke. His voice was very calm. "Your acting is terrible." A direct critique landed. Pei Yan's handsome face was stern, delivering the most heartless words. He looked like the strict, humorless disciplinary director from Su Zhiyi's high school days, exuding a strong sense of pressure. Su Zhiyi: "...?" Damn man, totally oblivious. She had thought Pei Yan called her aside to comfort her, but instead he started with a blunt "Your acting is terrible." Thinking about it, her acting was indeed terrible—an undeniable fact. While her haters and passersby online would loudly criticize her lousy acting, few in real life would say it to her face. Colleagues at her company and fellow actors would tactfully avoid mentioning her acting when talking to her. This was the first time someone had openly told her "Your acting is terrible," and Su Zhiyi felt embarrassed, unsure how to respond. After thinking for a while, all her pent-up words turned into a sincere apology. "I'm sorry." And it was indeed time to apologize. Her terrible acting had delayed the crew's filming progress and wasted Pei Yan's time, since he had been playing opposite her. Pei Yan, an actor who could command fees in the tens of thousands per minute of screen time, had just had a lot of his time wasted by her. Hearing Su Zhiyi's apology, Pei Yan instead frowned in confusion, his sharp brows drawing together. "Why apologize? I wasn't blaming you—I was just stating a fact." "Oh..." Su Zhiyi's mood remained low. Seeing Su Zhiyi's absent-minded look, Pei Yan felt a pang in his heart, as if pricked by a needle, a tinge of bitterness rising. Finally, he let out a long sigh. "I've been observing you. The mistakes you make while acting stem from one main issue: your attention is always on the camera filming you. You know the camera is facing you, so you overact even when the emotion could be subtle." "If I'm not mistaken, your acting is more natural when you're not in front of the camera." Su Zhiyi's eyes widened in surprise as she stared at Pei Yan in disbelief. Damn, how did this guy know everything? From just one scene, he not only identified her problem but also saw her strength. "Yes," she admitted, and humbly asked Pei Yan, the Best Actor, "So what should I do to act well?" Every role Pei Yan played was vivid and lively. He Himself was a straightforward, rigid person who spoke his mind without favoritism. Whether playing a righteous hero, a cunning villain, or a morally ambiguous neutral character, he could portray characters of various personalities, identities, and ages with such vividness that they never felt out of place on screen. "It's simple. As an actor, the most basic thing during a performance is to ignore the camera's existence." Pei Yan looked down, flipping through his script. "When shooting magazines or variety shows, you try to find the camera. But when acting, it's the opposite—your eyes must not meet the camera. You have to try to ignore the camera, treat it like a wooden post, and not pay attention to it." He closed the script and fixed his gaze on Su Zhiyi. "Treat me as the camera. Ignore me, and recite the lines completely." He shifted his gaze past the startled Su Zhiyi to the nearly finished scene behind her. "Watch the time. They'll be done soon." Pei Yan's instructions came quickly, and Su Zhiyi snapped back to reality, realizing that Pei Yan was genuinely trying to help her improve her acting. She obediently replied, "Okay!" How many actors ever get personal guidance from a Best Actor? Today, it had actually happened to her. Pei Yan seemed to have transformed into a silent camera that would stare at her intently. He kept his mouth shut, but his eyes never left her, capturing every movement and expression. It was hard to ignore the camera, and even harder to ignore Pei Yan. "Stop. Start over." "Stop. Why are you staring at me again?" "Stop. You glanced at me again." Eventually, Su Zhiyi focused all her attention on a potted plant placed in front of her. She imagined the plant as the emperor and told her "Imperial Brother" potted plant about the male and female leads. Gradually, her tightly wound emotions seemed to relax. She was able to deliver the full lines smoothly and naturally, execute every movement well, and make each facial expression transition seamlessly. Throughout, she never once glanced at Pei Yan, the "camera." This time, Pei Yan didn't call for a stop. "Thank you, Imperial Brother. I will convey your words exactly to Jingshu." Su Zhiyi delivered the final line. As the last word fell, the heavy stone pressing on her heart finally lifted. She could feel that this was the most perfect rendition among the dozen or so she had performed—both in front of the director and in front of Pei Yan. She eagerly looked at Pei Yan. "So? That one was good, wasn't it?" Her beautiful eyes seemed to glow, like twinkling stars in the night sky. She was anticipating Pei Yan's praise. "If this were a movie, and one I directed, I definitely wouldn't have passed you on that take." "Your expression transitions weren't smooth enough, your emotions lacked depth, and your control over the lines wasn't perfect." Pei Yan's critique hit the mark. Su Zhiyi's expression froze. Disappointed, she furrowed her brows, the corners of her mouth drooping, and the light in her eyes slowly faded. Just moments ago, Pei Yan had said her expression transitions weren't natural enough, but now her shift from joy to disappointment was absolutely perfect. Even Pei Yan didn't realize that she was using her best move—playing the pitiful act—on him. "I've let you down. I'm so stupid; my acting was already terrible, and even with your guidance, it's still that bad. Maybe I'm not cut out to be an actress, and I shouldn't have troubled you..." The girl's voice was soft, tinged with a hint of bitterness—her mastery of the lines was impeccable. Pei Yan's heart stirred. It was as if a small stone had been thrown into his calm, emotionless eyes, causing ripples and making his steadily beating heart quicken for an instant. When Su Zhiyi was sad, his heart felt as if gripped by a big hand, so painful that he could hardly breathe. He clutched the script tightly, the pressure creasing the pages. Had he... been too harsh? Pei Yan began to reflect. He knew Su Zhiyi's acting was poor, and she was probably often criticized online for it. He had always been straightforward. But it seemed that from the very beginning, he had been just like those haters who made Su Zhiyi sad, constantly criticizing her acting. A deep sense of guilt surged within him. The man's brows knitted tightly, and he wished he could take back what he had just said. But water spilled cannot be gathered, and words spoken cannot be retrieved. So he awkwardly tried to comfort the "sad" Su Zhiyi. "I'm not belittling you. I..." He almost said "just stating a fact" again, but realized in time that such honesty would sound like another attack on her poor acting, so he changed tack mid-sentence. "My standards are too high. I'm a perfectionist—that's my problem. I won't impose my demands on you. You improved very quickly. Just now, your acting was already quite good, comparable to many current actors. And it was much improved from the takes you did in front of Director Zhou earlier. If you had done that take in front of Director Zhou, he would definitely have passed you." Would saying this comfort Su Zhiyi? "Thank you. It's because of your guidance." Su Zhiyi raised a hand, gripping her sleeve as if to wipe the corner of her eye, her voice soft and gentle. She looked as if she were wiping away tears, but actually, her hand never touched her face, leaving her makeup untouched. "I know my acting is terrible. I want to improve and produce works that satisfy the audience... I know I still have a long road ahead as an actress. I'll take it step by step, steadily. And I won't forget your guidance today." Her sincere, moving words completely touched Pei Yan. Awkwardly, he tried to comfort her. "It's okay... Acting requires gradual refinement over time. You've only been acting for a few years. No need to rush." Su Zhiyi saw the slight change in Pei Yan's expression and knew he had fully believed her speech, stamping her with the label "terrible acting but dedicated." "Didn't he say I can't act? And yet I managed to mess with him using my acting." She said proudly to the stunned System 030.