CHAPTER 108

The filming schedule for "Deep in the Palace" wasn't particularly long. For Xiaoyuan and Zhou Yu, whose scenes were more fragmented, plus the preliminary training period, their 50-day contract was considered lengthy. In contrast, Zou Yirui and Guo Zhilu's roles were mostly concentrated in the first two episodes, so they only signed on for 15 days.

The most senior and highest-profile cast member, Zhu Ehua, had only committed one month to the production, so all her scenes were prioritized.

Period palace dramas were far more complex than modern shows or films. This was also Xiaoyuan's first time acting in such a large-scale production—and a palace drama filmed during peak summer at that.

Before filming began, young director Xu Muyi had been all smiles—joking around with the younger actors, friendly yet respectful toward veteran cast and crew while maintaining an energetic demeanor. Though well-liked, he'd given off an air of someone not taking things seriously.

It seemed everything had been handled by his father, producer-screenwriter Xu Shumin, and co-producer/assistant director Chen Yunxiu, leaving him free to play the role of hands-off boss. But when actual filming started, everyone realized this wasn't the case at all.

He had memorized every character's lines, the positions of the equipment, the actors' movements, the lighting, and even the natural light—all meticulously stored in his mind. Each episode's storyboard sketches were stacked thickly on the small table behind the monitor, there for peace of mind, though he never needed to refer to them again.

Always smiling, his demeanor gentle yet uncompromisingly strict.

Because the sets, props, and costumes for this drama were all custom-made, every day burned through money at an alarming rate, demanding an ironclad grip on the shooting schedule.

Many scenes involved large ensembles, requiring precise coordination of numerous actors. Everyone's timing had to be flawless—anyone who couldn't keep up would stand out glaringly.

The first week yielded only one completed episode—the scene where the son of a powerful minister sought imperial permission to marry, and the princess was wedded off.

The most nervous among them were Guo Zhilu and Zou Yirui.

Under the immense pressure of veterans like Zhu Ehua, He Chenying, Zheng Wan, and Zeng Li, the two crumbled spectacularly, their performances bordering on tragic. Zou Yirui, in particular, ended each day's shoot with a dazed expression and unsteady steps.

Xiaoyuan's scenes in the first two episodes were sparse and fragmented, mostly consisting of brief appearances trailing behind the crown prince. Her character, however, was the "most beautiful eunuch in the imperial harem," a dangerously alluring figure who drew attention wherever she went.

Xiaoyuan hadn't yet fully immersed herself in the role, but she thought her appearance in costume looked quite striking.

In one scene, Zou Yirui's Princess Chong'an threw a tantrum before the Empress Dowager, with the Empress and the crown prince arriving shortly after.

When it was time for her entrance, Xiaoyuan adjusted her attire and stepped forward gracefully in her trailing robes, drawing every eye in the room—admiring, astonished, stunned, and everything in between.

Her character, Liang Ji, spoke little. When the royals conversed, she stood silently behind the crown prince, eyes downcast, responding only when addressed. She needed to exude an unremarkable presence that was nonetheless impossible to ignore.

Filming this scene, Xiaoyuan felt something peculiar—she wasn't just an observer among the crew but a participant who didn't need to fully invest herself, quietly taking in the entire scene.

Watching the seasoned actors perform these past days had been nothing short of awe-inspiring.

Zhu Ehua, a living legend, delivered her lines with seamless naturalness. Once in costume, she embodied the Empress Dowager completely—regal, untouchable, exuding the effortless air of someone who toyed with power in the palm of her hand.

"Why the tears? This is a joyous occasion. As a princess, you were born to a life of luxury. This marriage is a fitting match—no need for you to endure the harsh winds and dust of the northern frontier. You'll remain in the imperial city, residing in your own palace, spared any hardship."

The Empress Dowager reclined on her divan, cutting off any chance for Chong'an to retort. With a sigh, she murmured, "Empress..."

The Empress responded softly, head bowed, awaiting her command.

The Empress Dowager said nothing more, tilting her head with another sigh. Her attendants rushed forward in unison, bending to massage her shoulders and knead her legs.

A long, deliberate silence followed.

Zou Yirui's heart pounded wildly. Her knees ached from kneeling. She had already made her scene, delivered her lines, even burst into tears earlier.

But when the cameras rolled, no amount of rehearsal could account for the unpredictable variables that arose.

Especially with the esteemed seniors present, their willingness to accommodate you was a kindness, but it didn't mean they'd slow down to let you catch up. Otherwise, what's the point of filming?

"Your Majesty, please forgive her." He Chenying forced a faint smile. "After all, Chong'an is still young—it's understandable she'd be nervous and afraid. Your daughter-in-law will advise her well."

Zhu Ehua lifted her eyes slightly but remained silent.

Zou Yirui froze for a beat, missing her cue.

After a second's pause, He Chenying suddenly turned and addressed the attendants, "The princess is tired. Escort her out immediately."

Zou Yirui caught on and immediately wailed, "I won't go! I refuse to marry!" She shook off the hands of the palace maids trying to assist her.

A flicker of tension passed through He Chenying's eyes.

Zou Yirui's face was streaked with tears.

The Empress Dowager clicked her tongue coldly and looked away. "Truly spoiled!"

He Chenying composed herself and turned to the silent Crown Prince nearby.

Zhou Yu pursed his lips, then turned his face to Xiaoyuan and said, "You go assist the princess."

Xiaoyuan gave a slight nod and approached Zou Yirui unhurriedly.

The script described Chong'an's despair—neither her mother nor her elder brother the Crown Prince had considered her feelings.

How terrifying this fool was! Rumor had it the second son of Marquis Wuding was illiterate, obsessed only with eating until he became fat-headed and pig-brained. To spend decades with such a person...

In this vast palace, not a single soul genuinely cared for her. They were all watching her humiliation, waiting to see her wed an imbecile.

At this moment, Chong'an felt utterly desolate, wishing she could dash her head against a wall!

But then someone stopped before her. A sleeve extended, and warm, slender hands helped her up as a soft voice murmured, "Princess, this servant will assist you."

Chong'an blinked in surprise—it was Liang Ji, the Crown Prince's attendant. She recognized him, this perpetually silent youth with features like a painting, his lips always pressed tight as if burdened by unspoken thoughts.

Yet now, his gaze held unexpected warmth, tinged with faint pity.

Zou Yirui had been too tense earlier, uncertain how to conclude this scene. But because of her closeness with Xiaoyuan in private, she had already trusted her inherently, creating an instinctive sense of safety that now let her naturally respond to Xiaoyuan's lead.

She relinquished her tension, adopting an air of resigned despair as she leaned her head against Xiaoyuan's shoulder, allowing herself to be guided to sit beside the Crown Prince.

Off-camera, Director Xu smiled approvingly, signaling the cinematographer to zoom in as the crane camera moved in for a close-up.

At this point, Liang Ji's actions subtly shifted the atmosphere in the palace.

The Empress Dowager kept her eyes closed, enjoying her maid's massage as if oblivious to the proceedings below. The Empress cast an inscrutable glance, while Consort Zheng—who'd been silently observing—curved her lips in a subtle smile.

In the next moment, Consort Zheng smoothly intervened, suggesting that if Chong'an refused to marry, Chongping would take her place—after all, Marquis Wuding hadn't specified which princess.

"Chongping is merely a year younger than Chong'an and of marriageable age. As you know, Chongping has always been sensible and thoughtful. She can't bear to see Chong'an upset, and she's even more unwilling to cause trouble for Her Majesty the Empress."

"What's more important is that she holds His Majesty and the Empress Dowager in her heart, wholeheartedly wishing to share their burdens and resolve their difficulties."

As her words fell, everyone present had varied expressions.

The Crown Prince's eyes flickered uncertainly, while the Empress's lashes trembled slightly, her facial muscles twitching rapidly as a sharp glint flashed through her gaze. After Noble Consort Zheng spoke, the corners of her lips curled into a smug smile, her eyes filled with profound meaning.

The princess's marriage was far from being as simple as it appeared on the surface. The Emperor's decision to have Princess Chong'an marry was deliberate, intended to help the Crown Prince secure the support of the Marquis of Wuding.

Noble Consort Zheng wasn't entirely confident she could change the Emperor's mind, so she seized the opportunity when Chong'an caused a scene to first bring the matter to the Empress Dowager.

The Empress Dowager was her maternal aunt and would surely side with her, understanding her hints. If the Empress Dowager then suggested to the Emperor that Chongping replace Chong'an, it would be a done deal.

Consort Zheng's eyes showed anticipation, and she looked at the Empress Dowager with a smile.

The Empress lowered her lashes, her gaze unreadable.

The Crown Prince looked tense.

Chong'an was even more nervous, clutching Liang Ji's sleeve tightly, while Liang Ji's eyes remained calm and composed.

Everyone in the room waited for the Empress Dowager's reaction.

The Empress Dowager reclined on her divan, allowing the palace maids to massage her, her eyes closed as if she had already fallen asleep.

Noble Consort Zheng's expression shifted slightly, but she persisted, "Empress Dowager, Empress Dowager..."

A hint of a cold smile crossed the Empress's lips.

Consort Zheng, unwilling to give up, continued, "Empress Dowager... Aunt?"

This address finally roused the Empress Dowager, who let out a soft hum and opened her eyes. "Ah, I'm old now, I'm tired."

Noble Consort Zheng smiled. "What do you think of my suggestion just now?"

The Empress Dowager narrowed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "The princess's marriage is, after all, a matter of state. How could an old woman like me decide? Let His Majesty make the final call."

"You jest. His Majesty has always respected you. Back when you presided over court..."

The Empress Dowager let out a long yawn and pressed her temples. "Oh dear, my head..."

Her nearby attendant immediately understood her meaning. "Honored guests, the Empress Dowager is unwell and needs to rest." With that, the curtains were drawn.

The Empress was the first to rise. After paying her respects, she withdrew, stopping by Chong'an's side to give her a glance. Chong'an trembled slightly and turned to the Crown Prince for help, but he averted his gaze, frowning with a quiet sigh.

Noble Consort Zheng was the last to leave. Staring at the gap in the curtains, she noticed the Empress Dowager's immaculate, jet-black hair and couldn't hide her resentment.

Behind the curtains, the Empress Dowager's eyes were inscrutable, revealing nothing of her true thoughts.

This scene was one of the more complex group performances, with each character harboring their own motives and agendas, the undercurrents of tension revealing glimpses of intricate relationships and stakes.

As the director, Xu Muyi had to ensure the clarity of the political intrigue while capturing the subtle shifts in the actors' emotions and expressions, all while maintaining a smooth visual flow.

This production team was already among the top in the country, and even the most seasoned directors would feel the pressure. But Xu Muyi's brilliance lay in his fearless inexperience—he had nothing to lose, and beneath his unassuming, harmless exterior was a raw, relentless drive that allowed him to withstand the pressure.

For scenes like this, even veterans like He Chenying and Zheng Wan rarely encountered them, let alone younger actors like Zhou Yu, Xiaoyuan, and Zou Yirui. With so many people involved, mistakes were inevitable, and retakes were to be expected.

Either Zou Yirui made a mistake, or the actors playing the palace attendants missed their marks, or the camera angles weren't adjusted properly, or perhaps the director was just being a perfectionist. With each NG take, the atmosphere on set grew increasingly tense.

The entire crew was walking on eggshells because of one person—Zhu Ehua.

Who would dare make such a senior artist accommodate these minor errors over and over again?

Fortunately, Xu Muyi had thick skin and kept smoothing things over with cheerful apologies. "Ah, my bad, my bad! Let's do another take. Really appreciate everyone's hard work!"

He even jogged lightly from behind the monitor to Zhu Ehua's side. "Empress Dowager, Empress Dowager! Let this humble servant massage your shoulders. You've worked so hard—ah, you're truly a celestial being descended to earth! Radiant beyond compare!"

Zhu Ehua shot him a mock glare before pinching his cheek with an amused smile.

"Fine, I'll let it go today..."

"Tomorrow will be different, I promise! Never again! Ah, godmother, you're the best!"

The rest of the crew watched in stunned silence.

So Zhu Ehua was Director Xu's godmother? Just how many powerful connections did this young director have?

Xiaoyuan felt goosebumps from his overly sweet flattery.

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