Chapter 28: Ashes on Set

In the movie scene, the scene "The war sequence" was set to shoot just after sundown.

Feng Shaoyi's instructions were clear: one camera, one take, and one actress — Jiang Yue. Her character, Aya, was to move through a smoke-drenched theater strewn with bodies, searching for a daughter who would never answer.

No dialogue. No soundtrack.

Just the sound of boots on wood, breathing through ash, and grief stitched into every blink.

The production crew had prepped the set meticulously. The fog machines were dialed. Smoke diffusion levels were safe. Fireproof gels had been applied to the cloth-draped stage in case of sparks. Feng didn't believe in second takes for scenes like this. Real grief, he said, only appeared once — like lightning.

Jiang Yue had been walking the scene for an hour before the cameras rolled. No one watched her rehearse — not out of disrespect, but out of reverence. Since her return from Blackbridge, she moved differently. With economy. With something like purpose sculpted by pain.

She stood centerstage, alone under the flickering chandelier prop.

Then the call came:

"Five minutes to rehearsal reset. Smoke test will run for atmospheric layering. Do not re-enter costume wing."

But Jiang Yue had left her scarf there — the one she'd woven herself into Aya. Not a prop. A tether.

She went back.

The costume wing was dim.

She opened the door.

Something was wrong.

The air didn't smell like prop fog.

It smelled like chemicals.

The fire caught silently.

Not from centerstage, but from behind the racks. It licked upward like a serpent, fast and precise. Not random. Not messy.

Within five seconds, fabric ignited. Within ten, Jiang Yue was cut off from the main door.

She didn't scream.

She didn't flinch.

She dropped low, covered her mouth, grabbed the scarf, and sprinted sideways through a makeup corridor.

The exit was blocked.

Her arm brushed a falling beam.

She hissed — pain sharp, real.

She turned.

And saw the backup camera facing her.

Live.

Still rolling.

System Alert:

Hazard Detected – Environmental Integrity Breach]

Temperature Spike: +87.2°C

Skin Trauma: L2 Abrasion (Right Forearm – Burn Layer)

Vital Signs: StableFL Action

Option:

1. Evacuate (End Scene)

2. Continue (Performance Channeling Enabled)

Jiang Yue looked into the lens.

"This isn't performance anymore," she murmured. "It's memory."

She stepped forward, eyes glassy, scarf in hand, breath ragged — but never panicked.

She walked through smoke like a ghost.

She stumbled over props like they were real bodies.

And when she reached the center, where the flames licked the edges of a broken piano, she dropped the scarf.

Knelt.

Pressed her burnt hand to her chest.

And smiled.

Feng Shaoyi, watching from the monitor, said nothing.

No one moved.

Not the first AD. Not the fire safety team. Not the producer.

Because Jiang Yue wasn't acting.

She was living something else.

Something that none of them could direct.

And when she finally collapsed sideways into the soot — eyes wide, lips trembling but wordless — Feng raised a hand.

"Cut."

System Alert:

Scene Captured: Unscripted Emotional Cataclysm

Impact Rating: 98.7%

Crew Emotional Disruption Registered

Viral Index Prediction: Off-Scale (Caps Maximum Benchmark)

PP Earned: +18.3

BP Surge: +11.2 (From Set Sponsor Backing)

Skill Unlocked: Pain Reclamation

Tier S Effect: Emotional shock enhances audience retention +23% (Scene length under 2 mins)

Zeyan got the call before the smoke alarms had stopped.

"Fire on Set. Jiang Yue's okay. But…"

But.

That word echoed longer than it should.

He was already in the car.

By the time he reached the lot, Jiang Yue was in the medic tent.

Her forearm was wrapped in silver gel, her voice gone hoarse.

She looked up at him and tried to smile.

"They didn't cut."

Zeyan knelt beside her.

"And you didn't run."

"I couldn't," she rasped. "Aya wouldn't."

System Side Protocol: Breach Report Logged

Fire Origin: Costume WingSuspected Cause: Deliberate AccelerantVisual Trail Detected: Guest Badge used 7 mins before ignition

Source: NovaLine Internal Pass (Cloned Credential)

Image: Corrupted – Face Obscured by Lens Glare

Zeyan's hands curled into fists.

"They tried to erase her again."

System: [Do you wish to trigger retaliatory counterstrike?]

No.

Not yet.

He looked at her through the clear barrier.

"Let her finish the scene first."

Next Day

The crew returned to a half-charred set.

Director Feng was silent.

Then, he handed Jiang Yue a new script page.

"We rewrote Aya's final moment," he said. "Based on… yesterday."

Jiang Yue read it.

No lines.

Just a piano.

And a scarf.

She nodded.

When the camera rolled again, Jiang Yue didn't act.

She simply played — fingers blistered, movement halting.

A broken lullaby in a ruined hall.

And when the final note hit, she didn't cry.

The crew did.

Every single one.

System Update:

FL has entered: Icon Threshold – Tier I

New Passive Buff: Legacy Echo – Any scene performed at ≥90% emotional intensity becomes replay staple in media archives.

Public Sentiment: "Unbreakable Flame" Archetype Established

Global Reputation Triggered: Industry Eyes (Festival Circuit, Talent Review Boards, Streaming Giants)

Zeyan reviewed the footage alone that night.

He didn't take notes.

Didn't rerun the analytics.

He just watched her burn.

And rise.

And burn again.