CHAPTER 109
The production budget for "Deep in the Palace" reportedly exceeded 200 million, with exquisite costumes and sets. Yet in Hengdian's 30+ degree heat, even the thinnest theatrical garments required three layers. Xiaoyuan also had to wear a chest binder, leaving her flushed and sweaty every day. Each night she'd apply soothing masks to prevent skin irritation. Her screen time only increased significantly in the latter half of episode two.
The Crown Prince was gentle by nature, his chronic childhood illnesses adding a layer of timidity to his character—precisely why he failed to win his imperial parents' favor.
The Emperor saw his younger self in the prince: mediocre, overlooked by his own father, mocked and excluded by brothers.
The Empress resented his lack of ambition, his inability to please the Emperor. With the Emperor already favoring Consort Zheng and her younger son—the Second Prince—things grew worse.
Now even his own sister Chong'an despised him for his self-preservation, for refusing to speak up in her defense.
In the end, Consort Zheng emerged victorious. Chongping married the second son of Marquis Wuding, while the Emperor's half-hearted attempt to arrange Chong'an's marriage backfired—her "ingratitude" earned his displeasure. The consequence: Princess Chong'an fell gravely ill, confined to palace quarters for three months' recuperation.
Even the Empress received a public reprimand.
The Emperor showered Consort Zheng and Chongping with gifts, even summoning the Second Prince for several consecutive days of meals together—a portrait of paternal devotion and domestic harmony.
The Emperor didn't even bother to send word to the Crown Prince, as if he were completely insignificant.
The eunuch in charge of lighting brightened the palace. The Crown Prince sat, drowning his sorrows in wine, and waved his hand, dismissing all attendants from the hall.
He staggered to his seat, "Go! All of you, leave!" He tilted his head back, gulping wine. Drinking too quickly, coughing violently from drinking too fast, clutching his chest.
Liang Ji emerged slowly, kneeling beside him to gently pat his back.
"Ah Ji, why? Why must they all push me like this?" The half-drunk prince gripped his arm. "Ah Ji, tell me why?"
"You're tired. Let me escort you to the Crown Princess."
"I've done everything Mother Empress asked of me—studied diligently, tried to win Father Emperor's favor, even accepted the crown princess she chose for me. Yet she's still never satisfied with me!"
Liang Ji listened silently, supporting him without moving a muscle.
The Crown Prince cried and murmured, "Ah Ji, I'm so scared... so lonely..."
"This servant will summon the Crown Princess."
"No, don't go. I don't want to see her. I don't love her, Ah Ji..." The prince turned his gaze upon him. "Ah Ji, how many years have you been by my side?"
"Ten years. This servant entered the palace in the eleventh year of Chongyuan, when I was ten." Liang Ji remained kneeling, his long lashes casting delicate shadows across his flawless face in the lamplight.
This was a crucial scene—the Crown Prince confiding in Liang Ji, and Liang Ji's significant opportunity to sow discord between the Crown Prince and the Empress.
Filmed as a night scene with only candlelight illuminating the set, the dim, ambiguous atmosphere made it easy for defenses to crumble.
In close-up, Xiaoyuan's face possessed the texture of an oil painting—exquisitely beautiful. His slender, porcelain neck disappeared modestly beneath layered robes, exuding an unusual air of restraint.
Xu Muyi watched the monitor, swelling with pride at his casting choice. His gaze swept the crowded set: He Chenying in full palace attire, Zou Yirui and Guo Zhilu with half-removed makeup, and Lu Jingnian who'd just finished her scenes.
To his surprise, Zhu Ehua sat reclined nearby—one assistant fanning her with a handheld fan while another swatted mosquitoes. Minor actors hovered around her, as if she still commanded the presence of the empress dowager even off-camera.
Grinning, Xu Muyi turned back to the monitor.
"Ah Ji," the Crown Prince continued to murmur, "No one cares for me. No one considers my feelings. I only have myself now."
He paused, unable to imagine the consequences if his father were to depose him.
"Your Highness is not alone. You Highness still has this servant." Liang Ji slowly raised his lashes, eyes shimmering like rippling water in the lamplight, brimming with unspoken words.
The Crown Prince looked at him, his eyes deepening. "Really? But back then... it was Mother Empress who sent you to me."
"Ah Ji... are you Mother's person?"
Upon hearing this, Liang Ji immediately prostrated himself on the ground, his forehead hitting the floor heavily. "This servant has been by Your Highness's side since entering the palace, ten years ago. This servant has only one master in my heart, and that is you, Your Highness."
The Crown Prince quickly supported his arm. "Ah Ji, I'm not doubting you. I'm just... so lonely. I need someone who belongs only to me..." His eyes reddened. "I want to ascend that throne... but I'm terrified..."
Liang Ji lifted his face, pale forehead flushed red, unshed tears glistening. "This servant is that person. I wish to stay by Your Highness's side..." His whisper trailed off like an int!mate secret between them, "To accompany you... all the way to that throne."
"Cut! Cut! Perfect!" Xu Muyi shouted excitedly, darting onto the set.
Next came the subtly int!mate scene between Crown prince and Liang Ji—expl!cit in the novel but requiring restrained, artistic implication onscreen.
"Later, you'll draw closer behind the screen. Zhou Yu, you're done for now. Xiaoyuan—this moment belongs to you."
Zhou Yu also felt a bit embarrassed. "Um...do we need physical contact?"
"?" Xiaoyuan looked slightly surprised.
Xu Muyi tilted his head back, stroking his chin in thought. "It would be better to have some."
For some reason, Zhou Yu's face flushed red as he quickly glanced at Xiaoyuan. Before she could say anything, Xu Muyi was already laughing. "Brother Zhou, what are you thinking? Of course it's not going to be our Sister Yuan acting with you. Let me find someone...you two can just simulate it behind the screen. After all, it'll only be a second in the final cut..."
Chen Yunxiu coughed from the side. "Or it might get edited out entirely."
Zhou Yu's face turned even redder. "That's exactly what I was thinking, really..."
"Haha, alright, alright. Let me explain it to Xiaoyuan again. Xiaoyuan, your part here is more important."
He pulled her aside to discuss the scene. "Here, you need to portray a feeling that something 'really happened' between you and the Crown Prince, a post-int!macy desire. You can't be as indifferent as usual, yet deep down you're disgusted and resigned..."
Liang Ji, when it came down to it, had no sense of self in this play. He was merely a pawn, his status lowly, with only his looks and body as weapons.
Unlike others, he was a man yet incomplete, which added another layer of torn bitterness.
Xiaoyuan listened thoughtfully.
Xu Muyi scratched his head. Directors often had a vague sense of what they wanted, but bringing it to life depended on the actors. He couldn't quite articulate it, but he'd know when he saw it.
Unsure if Xiaoyuan could capture the feeling he wanted, he suppressed his restlessness. "Alright, let's run through it once."
Lights and cameras ready, just before calling "Action," Xu Muyi glanced back instinctively. 'Good lord—it was almost 9 PM, yet the number of onlookers hadn't decreased, if anything, it had grown.'
Empress Dowager Zhu Ehua was still sitting leisurely, watching with keen interest.
Even Teacher Zeng Li had arrived with his birdcage.
Turning back, Xu Muyi observed Xiaoyuan standing outside the frame—her posture straight, shoulders delicate, the black yisan robe making her skin appear translucent.
Her expression was calm, completely absorbed, utterly unaffected by the surroundings.
Her ability to immerse herself in character instantly was remarkable!
Satisfied, Xu Muyi called out, "Action!"
In the dim glow of palace lanterns and flickering candles, behind a screen by the bed, faint rustling of clothes was followed by the shifting of blankets, revealing intertwined figures.
Zhou Yu's voice came through: "Ah Ji, from now on, you're the only one I'll trust."
They filmed this several times before Zhou Yu exited, leaving Xiaoyuan alone.
During training, since she was cross-dressing, the dialogue coach had specifically taught her to project her voice from further back, adjusting her tone to avoid sounding too feminine. Using one's natural voice for cross-dressing roles was challenging, and Xiaoyuan lowered her voice...
"Your Highness, this humble servant's body is too... I fear it would taint your eyes. Please forgive this servant..." Her voice trembled, as if spilling from the depths of her throat, uncontrollable despite her efforts. "I cannot... remove my clothes..."
The scene was so intense one could almost see toes curling in embarrassment.
Though the set was crowded, complete silence fell. Xiaoyuan's soft voice carried clearly through the air, as if countless tiny fibers had suddenly drifted down from the sky, tickling everyone's throats when they breathed in.
Zou Yirui suddenly clutched Guo Zhilu's arm, barely suppressing her excitement, while Guo Zhilu stood dumbfounded with her mouth slightly agape.
Zhou Yu, observing up close, flushed crimson with the most visceral reaction. Since this was Xiaoyuan's solo scene now, the cameras no longer needed him—he'd only need to dub his lines later.
He remembered the script called for the Crown Prince to murmur dazedly, "Ah Ji, Ah Ji..."
Xiaoyuan seamlessly continued the dialogue in his mind. "Your... Your Highness..." She repeated the address twice before letting out an unbearably soft moan—a tangled mix of anguish and pleasure.
Several audible gasps rippled through the crew.
He Chenying's eyes flickered as she sighed with an amused smile.
Zhu Ehua, reclining in her chair, arched an eyebrow meaningfully.
Xu Muyi covered his mouth, eyes sparkling like he'd struck gold. He repeatedly gestured behind him, signaling absolute quiet—the scene wasn't over yet.
After a moment, Xiaoyuan slowly emerged from the palace hall. Her measured footsteps echoed as she descended. The lantern light revealed her expressionless face, her eyes darker than before.
Xu Muyi directed the crane camera to follow her, capturing a close-up of her facial expressions.
She raised her hand to adjust her collar, a few stray hairs dancing by her ears as she descended step by step, the hem of her black robe fluttering slightly.
Her gaze turned vacant. She paused abruptly, standing perfectly still.
Xu Muyi held his breath, uncertain how she'd portray Liang Ji's emotions here. Multiple cameras focused on her as he waited intently.
Suddenly, her eyes moved, as if drawn by something. She tilted her head slightly, following the direction of the wind.
Another monitor showed the direction Xiaoyuan was looking: the branch of a tree within the palace walls, growing very tall and extending beyond the wall, its leaves rustling overhead.
Xiaoyuan stared motionlessly, half her face shadowed. Slowly, ripples formed in her eyes until they glistened with unshed tears.
"How deep the palace walls, where shadows creep,
Chill morning dreams, curtains untold.
Trapped and alone, here I grow old and gray,
my gaze cannot find the road home."
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