In an old workshop of a factory in Shancheng, the crew had set up a temporary interrogation room.
This was where they were going to film 《Prisoner's Game》, the new movie Chen Jingan took on in 《Prisoner's Game in the Mirror》 to make his comeback and recover his memories.
In the afternoon, the crew moved into the factory area. The old iron gate let out a harsh, rusty screech as it was pushed open. Jiang Kaiwen stood at the entrance, peered inside, and his expression turned peculiar.
“Director Cheng, we wouldn't even need to build a set here to film a haunted house investigation.”
However, the reason Cheng Songran gave was impossible to refute.
“To save money.”
Jiang Kaiwen looked at the peeling paint on the walls, then at the rusted half-pipe in the corner. After a two-second silence, he couldn't help but agree.
“It certainly looks like a money-saver.”
The stagehand clapped the slate.
“Action!”
The camera pushed into the interrogation room set constructed inside the factory.
A dim, yellow overhead light hung in mid-air. The wall paint was curled up, rust crept along the edges of the interrogation table, and the musty dampness of the old factory was trapped in the room, leaving even the sheets of paper limp and curled at the edges.
Chen Jingan sat at the table, his palms pressed against the seams of his trousers. Sweat had stained the fabric with dark patches. His gaze kept sliding toward the corner of the table, consistently avoiding the face of the suspect sitting opposite him.
“Cut!”
Behind the monitor, Jiang Hongyan's voice came through the walkie-talkie, laced with clear displeasure.
“Chen Jingan, your emotions are wrong. You're a police officer, a profiler, not a criminal about to face a firing squad.”
“Again.”
The second take began.
Chen Jingan raised his hand and slammed the table, his voice tight, almost forcing the words out.
“Speak! Where were you on the night of the third?!”
“Cut!”
Jiang Hongyan sighed, this time adding a touch of patient guidance to his tone.
“Jingan, don't be so superficial. Think about everything you've lost, and channel that despair into anger.”
“You need to feel his malice in concealing the truth, understand?”
Under the lens, Chen Jingan hung his head, his chest heaving rapidly. His fingers gripped the corner of the table, his nails scratching tiny white marks into the peeling paint.
He seemed trapped by this old interrogation room; the more he struggled, the more breathless he became.
After a moment, he finally raised his head. His spine slowly straightened, and the hand hanging by the table relaxed.
‘Chen Jingan’ turned his face slightly, his eyelids lifting lazily. His eyes, which had been filled with panic just moments ago, were now crystal clear and bright, with a hint of amusement hidden beneath.
Lu Zhichen had taken over.
‘Chen Jingan’ stood up and reached up to adjust his collar, as if the man who had been pushed to the brink of collapse just now had been left behind in the chair.
He took a step forward with his long legs, strolling casually toward Jiang Hongyan behind the monitor.
As he took those long strides, the ambient noise on the set quieted down layer by layer.
Sitting on his folding chair, Jiang Hongyan looked up and met his gaze. It held a playful mockery, as if assessing prey, coupled with a calculating look that had already seen through everything.
‘Chen Jingan’ walked up to Jiang Hongyan, but instead of stopping, he circled behind him.
He leaned down close to Jiang Hongyan's ear, his soft chuckle brushing against the man's earlobe.
“Director Jiang, stop squeezing the armrest. It hurts just listening to it.”
His gaze fell on the tense back of Jiang Hongyan's hand, and the curve of his lips deepened. “Are you afraid, or are you looking forward to something?”
As he spoke, the end of his sentence trailed off with a slight upward lilt, a chilling coldness hidden within his low chuckle.
“Hmm? Expecting me to go crazy for you again?”
Jiang Hongyan suppressed the shock in his heart, adjusted his breathing, and put back on his generous, genial smile.
“Jingan, you're finally in character.”
“Keep this up, let's continue.”
‘Chen Jingan’ straightened up and chuckled again. Without another glance at Jiang Hongyan, he turned and walked back to the interrogation table.
The extra playing the suspect, who had been quite arrogant just moments ago, shrank back slightly after catching his glance.
‘Chen Jingan’ didn't sit down. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing both hands on the table and slowly closing the distance between them.
When he spoke, his voice was very soft, carrying a seductive, persuasive tone that made one instinctively want to retreat, forcing the other man to press his back flat against the chair.
“Don't be nervous. Let's have a chat.”
A sinister smile still played on his lips. “I don't know if you've noticed it yourself, but when you lie, your left eye blinks an extra time.”
“You just blinked three times.”
The suspect's expression changed.
‘Chen Jingan’ tapped his fingers lightly on the table, the rhythmic sound making the suspect's Adam's apple bob in response.
“You said you went to a friend's house to play cards.”
“And you said you were woken up in the middle of the night by his cat, couldn't fall back asleep, and left early.”
The suspect answered hurriedly, “Yes! That's exactly how it was!”
“Is that so?”
‘Chen Jingan’s smile deepened.
“But your friend is allergic to cat hair. He's so allergic that if anyone in his office has cat hair on them, he'll cough for half the day.”
He pulled a photo of the friend's medical record out of an evidence bag and held it up for the suspect to see. On the allergen test report, the section for cat hair was clearly annotated.
The suspect's mouth opened and closed for a long moment, but he couldn't utter a single word.
‘Chen Jingan’ straightened up and looked down at him, his voice returning to the commanding strength expected of a police interrogation.
“Now, tell me.”
“Where exactly were you on the night of the third?”
The suspect buried his head in his hands, his shoulders slumping.
“I'll talk! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!”
“Cut!”
Jiang Hongyan called the cut right at the end of the scene.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Chen Jingan seemed to have all his strength drained away. His body swayed, and he stumbled, grabbing the edge of the table to steady himself.
The sinister air vanished completely from his face. His eyes, which had been seen through everything just moments ago, were now filled with panic and confusion. He looked down at his hands, his face written with a sense of absurdity.
“O-Okay, Director, I... I just...”
“That's a take!”
Cheng Songran's voice dragged the set out of its suffocating silence.
“Perfect!”
Ding Zhengxin stood up, grabbed a bottle of water, walked over to Jiang Yue, and handed it to him.
“Teacher Jiang, that was incredible acting!”
He glanced at the extra still sitting across the interrogation table, who had performed much better than during the rehearsal.
Generally speaking, the requirements for extras weren't very high. An unexpected, explosive performance like this relied heavily on the actor playing opposite them, who fed them the scene.
Jiang Yue took the water and expressed his gratitude.
“Thank you for the water, Teacher Ding. Your emotions were also spot on just now.”
Ding Zhengxin smiled and shook his head, not pushing the pleasantries further.
Standing nearby, Jiang Kaiwen straightened his back, the pride on his face completely unhidden.
Who would have thought his Third Brother could dominate the set like this?
By the time they wrapped up and headed back to the villa, the night wind of Shancheng carried a damp chill, making their clothes stick to their skin and rendering the walk increasingly stuffy.
After taking a shower, Jiang Yue changed into a white T-shirt and sat at the desk in the second-floor study. On the desk lay a prop diary he had brought back from the set.
He picked up his fountain pen and flipped the diary open.
To sort out the logic of the plot and maintain character continuity, he had begun keeping a diary according to Chen Jingan's habits in 《Prisoner's Game in the Mirror》.
The tip of the pen touched the paper, and the rustling sound filled the study.
【First day on set.】
【I thought I had merely found the switch for method acting.】
【But that coldness of looking down on everything from a high vantage point, that instinct to dismantle lies, does not belong to me.】
Jiang Yue paused for a moment. When his pen touched the paper again, his handwriting changed from reserved to sharp and aggressive.
【Lu Zhichen took over the body today.】
【The shock in Jiang Hongyan's eyes was real. What secret is he hiding?】
【This movie has already become a colosseum.】
After finishing, Jiang Yue closed the diary.
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