We asked you to make an anti-corruption film, but you made one in the name of the people!

The day before filming began for the rooftop scene of "Article 20", Lin Mo called Zhao Liying to a corner of the set.

Old Zhao was directing the crew to build the rooftop set, the hammer clanging incessantly.

Lin Mo sat on a folding chair, and Zhao Liying sat opposite him, without makeup, wearing a faded white shirt, and her hair was casually tied back.

"Liying, let me go over the rooftop scene with you tomorrow." Lin Mo didn't have the script with him. "Why did Hao Xiuping jump off the building?"

Zhao Liying thought for a moment: "Because they were forced into a corner."

"Be specific."

"Liu Wenjing raped her, and his father is now forcing her to sign a contract—admitting it was consensual. She refuses to sign, but her daughter has been kidnapped."

"Yes." Lin Mo leaned forward. "That's the key point—she didn't jump because of despair, but because she wanted to protect her daughter and husband. If she didn't sign, her daughter would be in danger; if she signed, her husband would be finished. Standing on the rooftop, the only solution she could think of was—if she died, if things got out of hand, her daughter would be released, and her husband wouldn't be wrongly accused."

Lin Mo paused, then said, "So when Hao Xiuping jumped, she had already figured it out—this was a debt, and she was paying for it with her own life."

Zhao Liying remained silent.

Her eyes slowly reddened, but she didn't cry.

"Remember this state—calmness. When Hao Xiuping stood on the edge of the rooftop, she was even calmer than Han Ming. Han Ming panicked, Lü Lingling panicked, but she didn't panic because she had already made up her mind."

Zhao Liying nodded, her voice soft: "I understand, Director Lin."

The next morning at eight o'clock.

The rooftop set was erected in a shed, with a six-story-high steel frame covered by an aged cement wall, and three layers of protective mats underneath.

Old Zhao personally checked the safety rope twice—it was hidden inside Zhao Liying's clothes and couldn't be seen in the front-facing shots.

Fanwei had no scenes today, so he brought his own thermos. He found a folding chair and sat next to the monitor without saying a word. He was just there to watch the scene. Zhang Yi also came, standing on the rooftop with his arms crossed. Lei Jiayin squatted in the corner, muttering to himself—Han Ming was going to break down in this scene, and he was trying to get into character.

When Zhao Liying came out of the dressing room, there was a bruise on her face, her hair was deliberately messed up, and a button was torn off the collar of her floral shirt—it was torn off when Liu Wenjing's father's men pushed her. She didn't look at anyone as she walked towards the rooftop, and her steps were hard.

"Attention all units," Old Zhao's voice came through the walkie-talkie, "Rooftop performance preparation—"

Stagehand Xiao Liu raised the clapperboard.

"Scene 78, Act 20, First Shot, First Scene—Snap!"

Hao Xiuping rushed out from the rooftop stairwell, with Han Ming and Lü Lingling chasing after her.

She ran to the edge of the rooftop, turned around, and leaned against the waist-high concrete railing. The wind blew, and her hair covered half of her face. Han Ming stopped five steps away from her, stretched out his hands in front of him, palms down—Don't move, calm down, let's talk slowly.

Lu Lingling stood behind Han Ming, panting, her mouth trying to speak, but Hao Xiuping couldn't hear her.

She can't hear.

But she could see it; she saw Han Ming's mouth moving. Lü Lingling's eyes reddened, and people downstairs gathered around.

Hao Xiuping raised her hand.

Her finger traced a single word in the air—daughter.

Han Ming was stunned.

Hao Xiuping continued gesturing, her movements becoming faster and faster, as if she were pouring out all the words that had been bottled up in her chest for countless days. She pointed her finger to her heart and then to the direction outside the rooftop—that beastly father, that contract, they were trying to force me to sign it.

Then she paused.

She held her hands up in front of her, gesturing to her daughter—her hands loosely clasped in front of her chest, as if she were holding a child.

Then she pointed to the outside of the rooftop, then to her heart, and then to Han Ming.

Han Ming took a step forward, a very small step.

Hao Xiuping raised her hand, palm facing him—Don't come any closer.

Her fingers started moving again, this time very slowly, so slowly that every movement seemed to be etched into the air.

—Prosecutor Han, thank you.

—Prosecutor Lü, thank you.

—You are good people.

But it didn't work.

She pointed to the sky, then to the ground, then to her ears and mouth, and then spread her hands out—I can't hear, I can't speak, I've cried for help countless times, but no one can hear me, and now I can't cry anymore, this is all I can do.

Then she gestured her last sentence.

—I won't sign. If I die, they'll have no reason to detain my daughter. If I die, things will escalate, and then someone will take care of it.

Han Ming understood.

He rushed forward.

He reached out and grabbed Hao Xiuping's wrist.

But the moment Hao Xiuping was grabbed, she pulled her hand away, not to break free—it was because she was too thin, her wrist as thin as a twig, and Han Ming's fingers, though clenched, continued to slide down.

Her body flipped backward.

Han Ming was leaning on the railing, his hand still in a gripping position, his palm empty.

Lu Lingling let out a scream, and it wasn't an act—Gao Ye later told Ma Li that for a moment she forgot she was filming; she genuinely thought Zhao Liying had fallen.

Han Ming leaned against the railing, looking down. The camera zoomed in on his face—his mouth was open, his eyes were red, and tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn't make a sound. Not because he was holding back, but because he couldn't scream. A prosecutor who had handled countless cases throughout his life, but when a living person slipped through his fingers—he couldn't even scream.

Lu Lingling knelt on the ground, covering her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking violently.

"Click."

Lin Mo's voice came through the walkie-talkie.

No one moved on set.

Zhao Liying was helped up from the protective mat by staff, her safety rope was untied, and a blanket was draped over her. She walked towards the monitor, her face covered in tears—not Hao Xiuping's tears, but Zhao Liying's own. The way Lei Jiayin had grabbed her wrist, pulled away, and flipped her backward—she was completely inside.

Lin Mo stood up.

He didn't say anything, but raised his hands and began to clap.

Pop, pop, pop.

Old Zhao was the second to stand up, clapping louder than anyone else.

Immediately afterwards, all twenty-odd people on set clapped at the same time, without a single person saying a word, only applause.

Then Fan Wei stood up from the folding chair.

He put the thermos aside, walked up to Zhao Liying, remained silent for several seconds, and then extended his hand.

"Teacher Zhao, I've been watching plays for decades, but this is the first time I've been on set—I was so engrossed that I forgot I was on a film set." He paused, "I thought Hao Xiuping was really going to jump."

Zhao Liying's eyes were still red, and her lips moved slightly.

Fan raised his hand to stop her from speaking: "When you were demonstrating the last sign language just now—your fingers didn't tremble at all. That wasn't just acting calm; you truly became her. An actor who can make their co-star forget their lines and the audience lose themselves in the performance—I've only ever seen that level of performance a few times in my life."

He glanced back at the rooftop, then turned back: "Once this movie is released, everyone will remember the name Hao Xiuping—not Zhao Liying, but Hao Xiuping."

Zhao Liying lowered her head, and tears welled up in her eyes again.

Lei Jiayin walked over. His face was still wet with tears, his shirt was wrinkled, and he still carried the air of Han Ming. He walked up to Zhao Liying, glanced at her, then took a half step back and bowed.

"Teacher Zhao, when you slipped from my grasp just now—my heart felt empty." His voice was a little hoarse. "I really felt like I hadn't grasped anyone. Thank you for getting me into character."

Zhao Liying reached out to support him: "Brother Lei, without your helping hand just now, I wouldn't have been able to fall. You made me believe that Han Ming really wanted to save me."

Zhang Yi stood outside the crowd and said, "Scenes together are mutual; a good actor can make their co-star a better actor."

He looked at Lei Jiayin: "The expression on your face when you were leaning against the railing just now—your hands were empty, and you couldn't shout—that was Han Ming's greatest sense of powerlessness in his life. One take."

Xu Yajun walked over and patted Zhao Liying on the shoulder: "Liying, your portrayal of Hao Xiuping this time—you don't have a single line, but every frame speaks volumes."

Gao Ye wiped away her tears and stood up from the ground—her knees were bruised from when Lü Lingling knelt down, but she didn't care.

"Director Lin," her voice still trembling with tears, "could I watch the playback again?"

Lin Mo sat back down in front of the monitor and clicked on the replay.

Everyone crowded around, with Fan Wei standing at the front, Lei Jiayin and Gao Ye squeezed on either side of the monitor, and Zhang Yi and Xu Yajun standing at the back.

The scene begins with Hao Xiuping rushing onto the rooftop.

Replay ended.

The set was quiet for five or six seconds, with only the hum of the fans outside filling the air.

Fan stood up, pointed at the monitor, and said something that everyone would remember:

"The moment Hao Xiuping jumped—she wasn't running away; she turned herself into evidence."

He turned to Lin Mo: "Director Lin, this film isn't just about popularizing the law; it's about letting everyone know—how the law is written isn't important, what's important is that the law is implemented and hits someone."

Lin Mo nodded without saying anything.