I have a persona specifically for acting.

Chapter 63



The two of them skeptically watched it again.

Since Shi Qianqiu said he only added a bit of material, Tong Zhao and her agent initially didn’t think too much of it and just watched it as a routine check.

—“I’m looking for something.”

—“Where is it?”

Accompanied by the sound of mechanical keyboard typing, these two lines of text gradually appeared on the dark screen, voiced by Tong Zhao with a hint of confusion and hesitation. She had just entered the holographic filming and received the evaluator’s suggestion, making her tone especially uncertain.

Using these two lines as a lead immediately piqued the audience’s curiosity about why Tong Zhao was showing a vulnerable side.

Tong Zhao and her agent had seen the original footage.

The suspense created by Shi Qianqiu was ineffective for them; they naturally assumed the next scene would be Tong Zhao’s consciousness palace…

However, it wasn’t.

When the dark curtain was lifted, it turned out to be a scene from “Countdown 72 Hours,” where Tong Zhao played Feng Yanqi, showing her looking around in a weapon shop for suitable firearms, highlighting the theme of “searching.”

—“At any cost.”

The tone of this line was particularly high and aloof, carrying a ruthless determination that indicated no matter the means, even sacrificing everyone to achieve the goal was acceptable. Outside of the scene, Tong Zhao thought about it and concluded it was neither from “72 Hours” nor from the inspection results.

Chen Guifei: [From “Sea King Kill.”]

Tong Zhao: […He even watched that!]

The beautiful woman was speechless.

Following that ruthless line about “at any cost,” Feng Yanqi’s accelerated beatdown of the robbers began, with each strike perfectly timed to the background music’s rhythm, creating a strong sense of impact. In the frame, she appeared as a fierce and stunning female warrior. The camera then zoomed in on her plucking bullets with tweezers, before suddenly closing in on a gruesome wound, taking up the entire shot. This was followed by Feng Yanqi, with a high level of intensity, storming into the research facility, shooting through hordes of zombies and engaging in close combat, ultimately collapsing from exhaustion.

“This transition!” Sister Chu exclaimed again.

“The fan-made vibe is so strong; that million-follower editor on Bilibili must be him.” As Tong Zhao prepared for “Heartless Tribulation,” she wanted to learn more about the director and proactively looked up news related to Shi Qianqiu, which included this information.

In the film, Feng Yanqi collapsed, closing her eyes.

Those who have seen “72 Hours” know that she gets the antidote and won’t die.

However, at the moment she shut her eyes, the sound of a door opening echoed.

Behind the door was a shabby old storage room, filled to the brim with clutter.

Upon closer inspection, while the space was cramped, the items were organized in a very orderly manner and not messy at all. However, it was still not a comfortable room to stay in, and the nylon bed tucked in the corner only deepened this sense of discomfort.

On the bed, Duan Ge (brother) looked like a more mature Feng Yanqi, her face showing signs of age.

The world isn’t just filled with youthful beauties; every age has its own charm. Duan Ge clearly lived a turbulent life, and her features, weathered by hardship, remained strikingly beautiful and aggressively alluring. The same high bridge of her nose and deep-set eyes that appeared on Concubine Chen’s face had a seductive allure, while on Duan Ge, they resembled a brightly colored leopard—dazzling yet intimidating, making one awestruck but not daring to touch.

The original scene was softened by the dim yellow oil lamp, but Shi Qianqiu altered its tone, making it heavy and oppressive.

The oil lamp cast the silhouette of a slender figure against the wall as someone entered.

Who is this uninvited guest?

This was the hint and information provided by the visuals and background music.

Duan Ge looked up and smiled, “What a rare visitor.”

“I came to find something.”

Following Duan Ge’s upward motion, the camera shifted too.

This camera movement allowed the viewers to share Duan Ge’s perspective and clearly see the visitor—it was actually Tong Zhao! She was dressed in casual attire, looking most like her real-life self.

At this moment, the camera didn’t capture Duan Ge’s expression, even cutting out her voice, focusing instead on her tightly gripped Swiss Army knife, conveying the message that “Feng Yanqi is unhappy to see Tong Zhao” through body language alone.

Duan Ge: “At that time, I just wanted to hug Tong Zhao so badly that I tightened my grip on the Swiss Army knife.”

Tong Zhao: “But you still hugged me, didn’t you?”

Duan Ge: “I couldn’t help it.”

The next moment showed Duan Ge stepping forward to tightly embrace Tong Zhao.

— “Killing is a heavy crime,” came the husky, mature tone of Duan Ge.

— “Isn’t it only natural to listen to me?” This was a cheeky, arrogant line from Concubine Chen.

Duan Ge held on tightly, burying her face in Tong Zhao’s hair.

Removing their real dialogue and adding somber, tense background music made the conveyed message very clear, leaving behind huge questions… This mature version of Tong Zhao listened to her orders to kill while simultaneously searching for something, establishing a clear dominant-submissive relationship between them.

The question remained: What were they searching for? Why did they share such strikingly similar features?

Montage editing can manipulate time and space, playing with the narrative. The director would cut out scenes deemed unnecessary, sometimes inserting footage from different timelines, locations, or even entirely different films to construct a fabricated storyline.

Concubine Chen: “What does this Shi person mean? Am I ordering Duan Ge to kill?”

Duan Ge: “If you need it, I’m more than willing.”

Concubine Chen giggled delightfully.

In the film, immediately after “Isn’t it only natural to listen to me?” was a passionate kiss between Han Zhi and Tong Zhao in the pottery studio from “Sea King Kill”…

After a long kiss, they locked eyes, and Han Zhi whispered:

“Of course, I’ll listen to you.”

Shi Qianqiu had somehow obtained a lossless audio version, and with headphones on, it felt as if Han Zhi was whispering directly into the viewers’ ears, causing Sister Chu to blush, while she was left stunned by this cross-genre dialogue: “This works too?”

“Basic operation. It’s clear you don’t often watch romantic pairing edits.”

Hearing her artist say this, Sister Chu began to consider spending more time on Bilibili.

She followed the data feedback from major video platforms, but terms like “la lang” left her feeling completely confused.

Next, they cut to clips of Han Zhi flirting with Zhong Muxi and Chang Xiaonian.

The two girls were infatuated with their idol, interspersed with Han Zhi’s gaze towards them that hinted at pity, suggesting he was seducing them at Tong Zhao’s command, something he didn’t want to do. The final clip of Zhong Muxi self-harming placed the blame squarely on Han Zhi.

Han Zhi: “…”

Tong Zhao: “Wow, my brother’s reputation is suffering.”

However, the next clip split the blame between Han Zhi and Tong Zhao—

Leaning lazily against the doorframe, Tong Zhao asked, “She didn’t cry and run away?”

After speaking, a haughty smile appeared on her delicate, beautiful face, exuding a poisonous charm.

— “Nowhere to be found; I can’t find it.”

Tong Zhao’s voice in the monologue grew increasingly irritable.

Concubine Chen: “This is what I said in ‘Sea King Kill’ when I couldn’t find Wei Zekai.”

The ending of this segment transitioned to an empty mansion, suggesting abandonment.

— “Sometimes I feel like he needs a little stimulation.”

— “Without some stimulation, how would he know the potential he could unleash?”

Tong Zhao: “This is…”

Chen Guifei: “I saw He Shun’s inner monologue.”

Sure.

What played next was a scene of Chen Zhuzhi portraying Shao Xuanzheng, pacing back and forth in front of the alchemy furnace on the night before he attacked his partner, murmuring, “If I really do this, there’s no turning back…”

The shadows on the alchemy furnace flickered, accompanied by Tong Zhao’s light, arrogant mockery: “Always thinking about turning back; no wonder you achieve nothing.”

This was from “The Legend of the Ming Emperor,” where the concubine belittles the other consorts.

Shao Xuanzheng’s inner struggle was edited by Shi Qianqiu into a dialogue.

Next, it seemed that everything Mu Yingchen suffered was manipulated by Tong Zhao from behind.

Concubine Chen praised sweetly: “This segment is well edited; Director Shi is a genius!”

The edit focused on her bullying of Lu Xianzhang, and Shi Qianqiu immediately elevated from “that Shi” to “Director Shi,” changing his tone faster than flipping a page.

The manager was speechless: “Is Director Shi playing with his own film?”

Tong Zhao: “He seems to be having a lot of fun.”

After the misleading editing of “Heartless Tribulation,” the scene shifted to Tong Zhao visiting Lu Xianzhang in the consciousness palace. At that moment, Lu Xianzhang was meditating in a corner, giving Shi Qianqiu ample space to create something out of nothing, first cutting to Lu Xianzhang with his eyes closed—

Lu Xianzhang appeared as a twenty-eight-year-old version of Tong Zhao, about the same age as Duan Ge, but showing signs of a life of luxury, exuding a cool, ethereal presence like a fallen immortal.

Though it was the same face and age, viewers could clearly feel that this was not the same person.

Inserting Mu Yingchen’s original voice: “Are you satisfied now?”

“I will never be satisfied.” This was the concubine’s line.

Under Shi Qianqiu’s editing, “Tong Zhao” in the consciousness palace was searching for something while continuously issuing commands for these “selves” to do bad deeds, not hesitating to harm them to achieve her goals, clearly portraying a behind-the-scenes manipulator, a super big boss.

During the second viewing, Tong Zhao noticed a detail: “The order is reversed this time; in the original, I first saw the concubine, then went to the storage room.”

Why edit it this way?

Is it just a matter of habit?

At this point, the scene switches to “The Legend of the Ming Emperor,” where the first clip shows the concubine being pushed into a palace by her family, instructed to serve the emperor well and gain his favor. Her youthful face reveals a hint of fear and confusion. This segment was a hard-won edit by the director of “The Ming Emperor,” as Tong Zhao usually appears very confident and ambitious.

What is weakness? It doesn’t exist.

In the scene, the young Tong Zhao closes her eyes tightly, as if trying to blink away her tears.

When she opens her eyes again, she sees the luxurious concubine, who turns around with an air of unmatched nobility: “Are you here to accompany me?”

The playful words were cut out.

After seeing the younger face that resembled her own, Tong Zhao had a sudden realization about the arrangement of the scenes—

the age difference.

From maturity to innocence, the concubine is the younger one.

“Aren’t you here specifically to find me?”

“Come here and hug me.”

In the original version, Tong Zhao’s words were completely muted, leaving only a silent, hopeless embrace.

In film and television, silence and blank spaces are also a form of expression.

This transitions into another embrace—between the Ming Emperor, played by Song Wanzhuo, and the concubine. She opens her arms to wrap around the emperor, tilting her face up to flirt with him for a moment before resting her head against his chest. From the emperor’s unseen angle, her youthful and beautiful face breaks into a slight smile, and the ambitious spark in her eyes burns like two flames, making the concubine even more captivating.

Sister Chu commented, “This uses a contrast of strength and weakness. She wants to use the Ming Emperor, but when you embrace her, she is fully reliant on you.”

Tong Zhao replied, “Wanzhuo has become a reliable tool.”

Fast forward to the concubine’s grand ceremony.

The concubine said, “With the queen gone, I am now the most esteemed woman in the world.”

She asked, “Are you satisfied?”

Under the clear sky, countless noblewomen bowed to her. The splendidly beautiful concubine, adorned with heavy makeup, appeared even more stunning, yet her true emotions remained inscrutable.

—“Not enough, still not enough.”

This line is also spoken by the concubine in “Ming Emperor.”

Each word captures her insatiable ambition and darkness.

Outside of the scene, the concubine remarked, “So, I even torment myself when I go crazy?”

The camera ended with a shot of a noblewoman who once troubled the concubine, bowing her head in resentment. As she lowered her head, the view went dark, and when it brightened again, it revealed a door opening in the consciousness palace.

This time, it was a door leading out from a room into a vast white hall…

“Tong Zhao.”

It was Han Zhi’s voice.

Tong Zhao turned around to meet his deep, melancholic eyes.

Here, apart from the call, all other lines were cut, and unnecessary contact was removed, leaving only Tong Zhao walking toward one of the rooms.

The door was opened just a crack, but was caught by a security chain.

A small, soft white hand reached out from within.

At this moment, Shi Qianqiu pulled a side mirror for Tong Zhao.

Cold white light shone from the side, casting deeper contrasts on her expressionless face. Her pale eyes churned with nameless emotions, resembling an unfathomable abyss. Objectively speaking, Tong Zhao’s expression was serious and heavy, with a hint of struggle that made her appear somewhat fierce.

—“You’re next.”

This was the thought of the concubine when she saw Wei Zekai in “Sea King Kill.”

As soon as the words fell, that obviously childlike hand was firmly grasped by Tong Zhao.

The screen abruptly plunged into darkness.

Starring: Tong Zhao

Post-production: Shi Qianqiu

Acknowledgments: Copyright holders of “The Legend of Ming Emperor,” “Sea King Kill,” “Countdown 72 Hours,” and “Heartless Tribulation.”

The manager, Sister Chu, was a bit suspicious of her eyes. She opened the original film on her phone and scrolled to the last part.

When the last door was stuck by the security chain, a childish voice from behind it apologized, “Zhao Zhao, I’m sorry. I can’t reach the chain even if I jump.”

Tong Zhao responded patiently, “It’s okay, I’ll find a way.”

Then she comfortingly held the child’s small hand.

The two clearly had a very close relationship, trusting each other.

However, under the editing of Shi Qianqiu, Tong Zhao was portrayed as a cruel and cold mysterious figure, behind whose manipulation lay the misfortunes of many worlds, ultimately even resorting to harming innocent children. After watching this footage, Dr. Gu from the Instinct Film Association would likely suspect her of having antisocial and inhumane tendencies.

In plain terms, she was edited into a villainous character.

Although there are too many flaws to know where to start, objectively speaking, Tong Zhao admits that Shi Qianqiu made the character of “Tong Zhao” quite charming. Whether it’s the color grading, camera angles, or the accompanying BGM, she appears as a dark and beautiful mysterious villain.

She sent a message to Shi Qianqiu: “So what is the protagonist actually looking for?”

Shi Qianqiu replied: “I don’t know!”

Shi Qianqiu continued: “It was just an idea from the evaluator for you to explore the consciousness palace more, to gather more information—there’s no deeper reason.”

Good point, “I don’t know.”

Tong Zhao: “Then didn’t you just turn it into a story? Digging a pit and not filling it?”

Shi Qianqiu: “Digging pits and not filling them is indeed one of my specialties.”

Tong Zhao remembered and opened Shi Qianqiu’s Bilibili account, checking the section labeled “His Videos.” It featured his representative work, “[Harry X Qingwen] So Sexual,” along with a bunch of “series” like “When Qingwen Travels to the HP World (Part 1),” “Wang Xifeng Teaches Iron Man Business (Part 1),” “Jia Mu Visits Stark Tower (Part 1),” and “[Lu Zhishen X Loki] Mu Shaoai (Part 1)…”

The reason for the quotation marks around “series” is that once he finishes one, there’s no follow-up.

No matter how well-received or how many collections and likes he gets, he remains unfazed—no sequels, digging pits without filling them!

That’s right.

As mentioned earlier, Shi Qianqiu is not a perfect person; he has bold ideas and creative editing but lacks strong logic. He often has short-lived enthusiasm, digs a pit, and then doesn’t want to fill it, with grand plans that he can’t follow through. It’s common for authors to finish works out of necessity, but he isn’t short on money and digs pits for fun, which is even more infuriating.

Shi Qianqiu kindly let her use the materials freely; he had already negotiated with the copyright holders.

Tong Zhao: “Okay.”

Tong Zhao, who had inadvertently fallen into the pit, no longer wanted to talk to the “Pit King.”

She explained the situation and posted both versions edited by Shiqianqiu on Weibo.

@TongZhaov:

“Did a check at the association.

@ShiQianqiu helped edit the film, adding a bit of material for a micro-movie version. Watch whichever you prefer.”

Shi Qianqiu retweeted the micro-movie version on Weibo.

So, while her agent was marketing behind the scenes, they mainly pushed that post… In reality, the marketing money was just icing on the cake. Who is Shi Qianqiu? Tong Zhao is currently the hottest actress, with countless eyes focused on her. There had been speculation about their collaboration, and some imaginative netizens even claimed that their next joint announcement would definitely be about a wedding.

This scared many of Tong Zhao’s career fans.

When her family matters were brought to light, her mother—who had once won a Best Actress award—was also dug up. Fans feared that Tong Zhao might end up like her mother, marrying and retiring from acting with no more works. They really didn’t want her to date—after all, they hadn’t seen enough of her films!

Instead of wedding news, fans received a micro-movie.

While they felt relieved, they were also a bit pleased.

In the past, some actors had shared their examination videos from the Association, creating an intimate feeling similar to reading a diary from their idol’s private account.

Non-fans were also curious about Tong Zhao’s examination results.

After all, she was known for her strong and unique subconscious.

How special could she be without the halo of her character templates?

Fans and onlookers clicked on the original link to the micro-movie.

It started with clips from “Countdown 72 Hours,” and early fans were quite happy, but soon they sensed something was off.

First, a flood of question marks filled the screen.

[????]

[Wow, where’s this footage from? So much information!]

[Strangers asking for the source—this scene of a handsome guy being told to raise fish is so engaging, which idol drama is it from?]

[Hey, don’t go, that’s not an idol drama; it’s from the variety show “Sea King Kill,” and the truth isn’t like that…]

[Fans who have watched all of Tong Zhao’s works assure you that the original story isn’t set up this way!]

Tong Zhao’s fans found themselves in a bizarre loop of accepting the problematic setting, thinking, “Once you accept it, it really feels amazing.” Meanwhile, confused onlookers became curious about the “original work,” and after some explanation, they regretfully questioned:

[Alright then, where are these different age versions of Tong Zhao from?]

This…

The fans didn’t know either.

Fortunately, the micro-movie was quite short. After watching it, the puzzled fans immediately went to see the examination result video edited by Shi Qianqiu, which was generally more authentic. This video’s comments were sparse, and its view count was less than half that of the micro-movie.

[How many people are hidden in Sister Zhao’s mind???]

[Wow, don’t worry about the number; just think about how much space is in a room—her subconscious intensity must be terrifying.]

[Incredible, Sister Zhao doesn’t need character settings; she’s special enough on her own.]

[Is this really okay? The Association determined Zhao Zhao is healthy?] This came from fans who cared about Tong Zhao’s well-being.

Discussion about Tong Zhao herself was mostly from those concerned about the entertainment industry.

Outsiders who only watched the micro-movie edited by Shi Qianqiu were captivated by the fabricated plot, thinking it was a trailer for some lengthy TV drama.

This clearly has a complete worldview and suspense that can be deeply explored!

So, some insiders, eager for drama, started spreading the news: “Shi Qianqiu is venturing into TV dramas! Once again collaborating with Tong Zhao for an ultra-long exquisite trailer

.”

There’s even a plot summary, making it sound like a classic quick-transmigration story.

The production quality of this micro-movie is indeed excellent—its pacing is quick, easy to understand, and engaging. The suspense of the main character, who is also the behind-the-scenes antagonist, searching for something runs throughout the trailer, leading to unexpected buzz. It topped the daily charts of major video platforms, and even with fans frequently clarifying that this is not a TV drama, many netizens kept asking in confusion:

[When is Tong Zhao’s new drama airing?]

[Is Song Wanzhuo playing a supporting role? Zhao Jie is amazing!]

[Have I seen this Han Zhi before?]

With such a high-quality production, how could it just be a fan vlog?

It must be fans playing a joke!

Daily monitoring market feedback, agent Sister Chu remarked, “Tong Zhao, if you don’t turn this into a TV drama, it’ll be hard to wrap things up.”

“…Who cares? I’m off to survive on a deserted island.”


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