Chapter 71: Similar Taste (3)

The camera was put in place and the director shouted for them to begin.

On the grassland, Ye Peicheng held Qiao Moyu’s hand. His palm was broad and warm, while hers was small and delicate, so tender that it almost seemed to lack bones.

Because she didn’t expect him to suddenly take her hand, Qiao Moyu’s cheeks flushed. She pulled away shyly, not daring to look him in the eye. The man continued to hold on tightly to her hands without looking straight at her; for a moment, his anxious gaze quickly surveyed the hidden shadows in the distance.

Afterwards, the imperial young commander relaxed, dispelling his usual iron blooded aura. Right now, he was simply a happy young man who held his beloved girl’s hand by a hillside full of flowers. During a time of war and icy chaos, they now relished a rare moment of peace.

Just then, Qiao Moyu tripped over something. Ye Peicheng pulled her safely into his arms. All of a sudden, her soft body landed against his hard bosom. Both of them were shocked, their eyes raising at the same time.

As her eyes glanced into his, she turned away quickly in her fluster. But she sensed that the man’s deep eyes seemed fixed on her cheeks, as if drunk.

The air seemed to freeze even more. Just as Qiao Moyu was to lose her breath, the song of a bird floated through the air. She coughed softly and pointed in the distance: “Let’s go and take a look over there!”

“Alright,” Ye Peicheng replied gently.

His hold tightened as Qiao Moyu eagerly went forward, causing Ye Peicheng’s fingertips to slip along the woman’s wrist. Suddenly, he recalled when that day at the governor’s palace, when he measured the size of her wrist.

Qiao Moyu pulled him forward unconsciously, but the man’s eyes couldn’t look away from their holding hands.

Ye Peicheng thought that he must have gone mad, his eyes appearing bewitched. He couldn’t help but rub her wrist lightly; they were thin and white, just like the ones he saw in the hotel that day.

The man’s Adam’s Apple rolled slightly. Ye Peicheng couldn’t control his thoughts as they wandered to that day three years ago, when his consciousness was blurred.

At that moment, he couldn’t tolerate himself. Ever since their filming at the governor’s palace that day, he concealed his thoughts towards Qiao Moyu.

Qiao Moyu walked in front of him, clueless of all of this, when the director suddenly called out: “Cut! Very good, all in one-take!”

Qiao Moyu immediately let go of the actor’s hand and prepared for the next scene.

Meanwhile, Ye Peicheng looked down at his palm, paying attention her touch as if it still lingered.

For the next scene, both of the sat on the grass.

The wind caused the grass to bend. Qiao Moyu turned her head and smiled at Ye Peicheng, her brow raised.

The director shouted: “Cut.”

He came over and said: “Moyu, you acted well, but there’s a feeling you’re lacking.”

“What’s missing?” she asked doubtfully.

“Love.” After thinking for a moment, the director said: “Unlike your first time filming at ‘Sheng Shi,’ your scene here is up close so your expression must be appropriate. You acting just now is fine, but going forward in the future, it won’t be good enough. Right now, you’re supposed to be in front of the person you like. What kind of emotion should you show when you look into his eyes?”

As this idea dawned upon her, Qiao Moyu couldn’t help but turn and look at Ye Peicheng.

Their gazes once again collided, neither of them looking away.

Next to her, the director said: “Moyu, find that feeling.”

Moyu nodded and repeated the phrase to herself in her mind several times. Although she was improving, she still lacked the feeling.

“Actually, only one expression is needed,” said Ye Peicheng beside her. He slowly parted his lips and said, “It’s the expression you showed when you were on the phone.” As he said so, his lashes lowered slightly, and his heart felt an inexplicable loss.