Chapter 8: This Feels Too Real to Be Acting

Cao Yang was truly at his wit's end. Li Xiaoran clung to him, refusing to let go, and no matter what he said, it was useless—she just kept crying.

He had a vague suspicion: had something gone wrong with the "Method Acting Experience" system?

After much coaxing, he finally got Ding Jiali to pull her away. Cao Yang instructed Ding to take Li Xiaoran back to her room and hinted that she should try to find out what was really going on.

Filming was out of the question for the day.

"What are you all looking at? Wrap it up!"

In his suite, Cao Yang and Tian Zhuangzhuang smoked in frustration, waiting for news from Ding Jiali. About an hour later, there was a knock at the door.

Cao Yang dashed over to open it. Ding Jiali entered, glanced at Tian Zhuangzhuang, then at Cao Yang, with a look that was quite suggestive.

"Sister Jiali, what's going on? Did you find out?" Cao Yang asked impatiently. Tian Zhuangzhuang watched with equal curiosity.

Ding Jiali cleared her throat softly, shot another glance at Cao Yang, and cursed him silently in her heart. She had never seen a director so ruthless. Was that even "experiencing life"? To treat an actress that way—without a care for whether she might have a breakdown—was truly inhumane.

"Director Cao, it’s possible you made her 'experience life'… a bit too much. She’s too deep into the role and can’t get out." Ding Jiali spoke vaguely. She had wanted to condemn him directly, but he was the director, after all; she had to give him some face.

"Oh? She’s fully immersed?" Tian Zhuangzhuang looked enlightened; that explained her strange behavior.

Cao Yang, however, felt a jolt in his chest at the mention of being "immersed." He thought back to the Method Acting Experience. Before he had applied the additional experience, Li Xiaoran was already on the verge of breaking—she was hypersensitive and fragile. He hadn't been sure she could pull off the performance in that state, so he had added the experience as a safeguard.

Had he used too potent a medicine on a patient who was already too weak?

"What did she say?"

"From what I gathered, she seems to have projected herself into the protagonist. She feels as though she’s been waiting for you abroad, and now that she’s finally reunited with you, she’s lost control."

Cao Yang frowned and asked, "That doesn't make sense. If she’s that deep into the role, shouldn't she be in love with Old Tian? He’s the one playing the director having the affair."

Ding Jiali opened her mouth, hesitated for a long time, and finally blurted out, "She probably thinks that since you’re the director of this film, you have more of a presence, so she projected that onto you."

Had Tian Zhuangzhuang not been such a renowned director, she would have said it outright: if she were the one immersed, comparing the two, she would certainly have chosen the younger, more handsome Cao Yang.

"Sister Jiali, could you take her out around Ludong Island for the next couple of days? Have her socialize, go to busy places, and try some amusement park rides. Also, remind her that this is just acting—don't let her get too trapped. And make sure she doesn't watch any movies or listen to any music."

"Understood, Director Cao."

Ding Jiali glanced at Cao Yang again, finding it strange. She had seen actors get immersed before, but rarely this deeply—to the point of crying out "I love you" in public. Did those two have a history?

Once alone with Tian Zhuangzhuang, both men felt rather dejected.

"How long do you plan to halt production?" Old Tian asked.

Cao Yang thought for a moment. "Let's say three days for now. There are some establishing shots of the scenery; you take the crew and film those while I monitor her condition."

Old Tian nodded. After a moment of hesitation, he added, "As a director, having an actor fully immersed is a good thing; it makes the performance more natural and fluid. But there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. You have to know where to draw the line. If something goes wrong, it’ll be a mess."

"I understand, Senior Brother. I’ll be careful."

*Damn this useless system,* he thought. He hadn't realized the effect would be this powerful—it had completely blindsided the girl. In reality, he knew it wasn't just one thing. If he hadn't forced her to experience that extra period of time, she wouldn't have been this deep. *Sigh, a mistake. I’ll make sure to fix that next time.*

Two days later, Cao Yang went to check on Li Xiaoran. She was clearly much better. At the very least, she didn't throw herself at him, and she could communicate normally, though her eyes still held an inexplicable, lingering look.

Before leaving, Cao Yang weighed his words carefully. "Xiaoran, I’m already married. Please, move on."

Li Xiaoran trembled, and her eyes began to redden. Cao Yang quickly beat a retreat—it seemed she was still in character. Given her current state, she wouldn't be coming out of the role anytime soon. If she recovered within six months, it would be a testament to her strong willpower.

He had two choices: replace the lead or find a way to keep filming. Cao Yang’s strategy was to leave no room for Li Xiaoran's fantasies. It was harsh and cruel, but better than doing nothing.

A day later, filming resumed. The crew gathered on set, still whispering among themselves. They had a general idea of what had happened; they had all seen actors get immersed before, but never to this extent.

Everyone was worried that the lead actress would cause another scene. But as the first few shots were captured, everyone’s expression changed.

Li Xiaoran’s portrayal of the protagonist—her hesitation, helplessness, sorrow, and longing—was so seamless in its progression of emotions, so perfectly controlled and restrained, that it didn't look like acting at all. It was as if they were filming a documentary of the character herself.

In the following days, especially during the scene between Li Xiaoran and Ding Jiali on the balcony, her emotional transition was textbook-perfect.

After a few days, the attitude of the crew and the students from the Beijing Film Academy toward Li Xiaoran shifted by 180 degrees. Strength commands respect, wherever you are. Li Xiaoran possessed that strength—extraordinary strength.

Except for a few shots that had to be retaken due to accidents, most of her scenes were done in one take. The crew began calling her "Li One-Take" behind her back.

Even Old Tian confided in Cao Yang, "Cao Yang, my eyes have been opened these past few days. You don't know—I don't really understand how she’s doing it, but I am thoroughly stunned! Theoretically, getting too immersed is bad because the actor loses perspective, their sense of the camera suffers, and they can't control their emotions."

Perhaps feeling he wasn't expressing himself clearly, Old Tian rephrased: "Strictly speaking, 'too deep' is a misnomer. Usually, it just means they lose track of the character because the film is still in progress; they’re projecting themselves into the person rather than the plot. That has nothing to do with what the director wants. Usually, it just leads to overacting. But this... this is completely different."

Old Tian slapped his thigh in awe. "Damn, this Li Xiaoran is truly uncanny. It’s like she walked straight out of the script. She is a perfect overlap with the character we’re trying to create!"

He wore a look of utter bewilderment, yet profound admiration.

*You don't understand it? Neither do I!*

Cao Yang now strongly suspected that the "Method Acting Experience" had essentially forced Li Xiaoran to live through a life scenario almost identical to the film's plot. That was the only explanation for why it fit so perfectly.

When a person’s mental state is at its most fragile, forcing them to live out an experience mirroring the plot would leave an indelible mark on anyone, making it impossible to distinguish reality from fiction.

It was too dangerous. Cao Yang reminded himself: if he ever used the Method Acting Experience again, he must not push someone to the point of mental fragility and near-collapse.

The combination of the two was terrifying. After all, what better acting is there than the protagonist playing herself?