This director only directs blockbusters.

Fan Bingbing turned her head to look at him. In the swirling smoke, his profile was as sharp and hard as if carved by a knife.

"Do you even believe that excuse yourself? You always have your reasons," she said softly.

"It's not an excuse, nor a reason, it's experience." Yang Ning handed over the cigarette.

Fan Binbin sat up, took the cigarette, and took a drag. He coughed from the smoke, but didn't stop, taking a second drag.

"Does it hurt?" she suddenly asked.

"Where?" Yang Ning turned his head to look at her.

"My back. That's where I scratched it just now."

Yang Ning turned his head and glanced at his shoulder and back—several bloodstains had scabbed over, leaving dark red trails on his skin.

"fine."

Fan Binbin smiled, a smile that was both provocative and genuine.

She handed the cigarette back to him, slowly got off the bed, and walked barefoot into the bathroom.

The sound of water could be heard.

Yang Ning sat on the edge of the bed and quietly finished his cigarette. The ash fell onto the cement floor, but he ignored it.

In the bathroom, Fan Binbin stood in front of the mirror.

Neck, chest, inner thighs... marks everywhere. A mix of blue, purple, and red marks, as if he had been in a fight. No, as if he had been in a fight, no, three fights.

She reached out and gently touched the marks.

A sharp pain came.

But the restlessness that had been building up inside her for so long, almost tearing her apart, miraculously subsided at that moment. Ah, people really can't hold things in for too long; if they do, something bad will happen.

She turned the water temperature down a bit, and the cold water splashed on her, sending a shiver down her spine. By this time, he had completely calmed down.

When Yang Ning came out of the bathroom, she was already lying down, taking up half of the bed.

Fan Binbin stood by the bed for a few seconds, then lifted the blanket and crawled in, turning her back to him.

Yang Ning's arm naturally wrapped around her waist, his palm resting on her lower abdomen.

Fan Binbin's body stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed.

"Director Yang," she called softly.

"Um."

"Do you think I'll still be able to train tomorrow?"

"able."

"Will the marks on my body be noticeable?"

"So what if they figure it out?" Yang Ning said with his eyes closed. "No one dares to ask."

Fan Binbin remained silent for a moment.

Then she turned to face him. In the darkness, they could only barely make out the outlines of each other's eyes.

"I concede," she said, "but only this once."

"OK."

"next time……"

"We'll talk about next time."

Fan Binbin buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breathing gradually becoming even.

Yang Ning held her in his arms, unable to fall asleep.

He was thinking about tomorrow: training needed to continue, the publicity plan needed to be adjusted, and materials needed to be prepared for the industry exchange meeting that Han Shanping mentioned.

And then there's this movie, with its 130 million investment and a team of several hundred people.

The burden is heavy.

But at least the person in my arms has calmed down for now.

This can be considered a kind of progress. Considering that I've only been back in the world for a few months, the gains I've made are more than I ever achieved in my previous decades.

In terms of career, he's now a big director with 1.3 million in revenue. As for relationships, no, let's not talk about relationships. He's finally been reborn, how can he talk about relationships?

Just maintain an attitude of not taking initiative, not refusing, and not taking responsibility.

Having figured all this out, he closed his eyes, and sleep slowly crept in.

---

The alarm clock rang precisely at six o'clock the next morning.

Yang Ning woke up first.

A familiar soreness came from my lower back.

He frowned and rubbed his lower back with his palm—after all, the body isn't made of iron, and no matter how young you are, you have to pay the price for indulgence.

If only I had a system like some of my predecessors that regulates the body, that would be wonderful. Unfortunately, my system isn't up to the task!

Fan Binbin was still asleep, his cheek pressed against his arm, leaving a faint drool mark.

He gently withdrew his arm.

Fan Binbin snorted, didn't wake up, turned over and continued to sleep.

Yang Ning got out of bed and put on her clothes.

As he reached the door, he glanced back.

Fan Binbin curled up on the bed, with the blanket only covering her waist.

Morning light streamed through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating her prominent shoulder blades like folded butterfly wings.

The marks faded slightly in the light, but were still clearly visible.

He gently closed the door.

Staff members were already moving about in the corridor—they needed to prepare training equipment in advance.

When they saw Yang Ning come out of Fan Binbin's room, the group of people were clearly stunned for a moment, then lowered their heads and walked away quickly, pretending they hadn't seen anything.

Yang Ning ignored him and went straight to his room.

I ran into Lao Xu on the road.

"Yangzi, so early?" Old Xu's eyes involuntarily glanced behind him. "Last night..."

"Let's adjust the training plan," Yang Ning interrupted him. "We'll add a rock climbing competition today, and the top three will get a day off."

"Huh? Why all of a sudden..."

"Give them some hope," Yang Ning said. "They've been on edge for so long, it's time to let things relax."

"Okay." Old Xu nodded, but still couldn't help lowering his voice, "What about Fan Binbin..."

"Regular training." Yang Ning pushed open his bedroom door. "If you're late, you'll be punished according to the rules."

The door closed behind me.

Old Xu stood in the corridor, scratching his head.

"That's a beast! They've already done that to each other and he still..."

---

At 7:00 AM sharp, on the training ground.

The actors arrived one after another.

Fan Binbin was the last to arrive, arriving at the very last second of 7 o'clock.

The training uniform was worn neatly and securely, with the zipper pulled all the way up to the chin, covering the neck.

But upon closer inspection, there was a subtle, almost imperceptible awkwardness in her gait.

Huang Xiaoming leaned closer, looking concerned: "Binbin, what happened to your leg?"

"I practiced too hard yesterday and got a cramp," Fan Binbin said without changing his expression.

"I have some ointment here, I'll get it for you in a bit?"

"No, thank you."

The whistle blew.

Yang Ning stood at the front of the group, his gaze sweeping over each person.

"We're adding an individual time trial climbing event today," he announced. "The top three will receive a full day off tomorrow and can leave the base."

A suppressed commotion of excitement rose within the ranks.

"Let's start warming up now." Yang Ning's gaze fell on Fan Binbin. "You, step forward."

Fan Binbin took a step forward.

"Your knee is injured, so today we'll focus on upper body training," Yang Ning said calmly. "Hanging on the rings, ten minutes."

"Yes."

Without the slightest hesitation, she turned and walked towards the training equipment. In the morning light, her back was straight, her steps firm, as if nothing had happened the night before.

Only those occasional pauses and the faint red marks on his neck revealed a secret unknown to others.

A new day begins on the training field.

.........

When Xu Qin pushed open the office door, Yang Ning was hunched over the table revising the storyboard.

Hearing the noise, I looked up and saw her standing at the door.

She wore a dark gray suit, high heels, and her hair was meticulously pulled back. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were blazing with suppressed anger; you could tell at a glance that this old woman was about to explode.

"Sister Xu Qin." Yang Ning hurriedly put down her pen. "What brings you here?"

"What's wrong?" Xu Qin walked in, the door slamming shut behind her. "Should I have come?"