After adjusting the filming approach, the crew entered the shooting phase for Episode 17 of The Hidden Moon and the Sea of Dawn.

  Today’s shoot focuses on scenes depicting the protagonist’s descent into dreams and hallucinations.

  On set, a green screen has been set up at the center of the studio, with thick crash mats laid out in front of and behind the treadmill.

  Crew members are busy testing the speed and visual trajectory, while the director stands beside the machine, giving final instructions.

  “Fifteen seconds after rolling, the calling sound will play, and the speed will begin to increase.”

  While speaking, a foot nudges the mat on the floor.

  “Even though the crash mats are in place, the treadmill’s handrails have been removed.

  If there’s any issue, call for a stop immediately.

  Safety comes first, understood?”

  Yun Cangyue, dressed in black athletic wear, stands on the treadmill, her expression calm.

  “No problem. I’ve run on it a few times already.”

  The director nods. “Alright, let’s get ready.”

  “Camera ready—sound—treadmill on—action!”

  On screen, Yun Cangyue stands quietly, gaze wavering, hands tightening unconsciously.

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  —Ayue…

  A first calling sound rings out.

  The treadmill starts up, and she begins running in sync with it.

  As the speed gradually increases, breathing becomes heavier.

  —A-Yue…

  The second calling sound is the moment to begin the line.

  “Hah… you… you—”

  Before the line finishes, the director calls cut.

  “The emotion here should be more lost, and more restless. How about taking a short break?”

  After stopping, Yun Cangyue takes a deep breath and wipes the tear from the corner of her eye.

  “Sorry. One more time, please.”

  “But this time, could we not play the calling sound? A countdown will be fine.”

  The director freezes for a moment, then nods. “Alright. We’ll cue you three seconds before.”

  “Thank you.”

  After confirming the blocking again, filming resumes.

  This time there is no sound to guide her, only the mechanical rhythm and her breathing.

  “Cut!”

  The director stands up and claps his hands.

  “That’s a pass! Good job today, everyone. Go eat first. We’ll finish up this afternoon!”

  The set gradually clears as crew members leave one after another.

  Yun Cangyue has just stepped off the treadmill when she is led by the hand toward the lounge by Liu Xiyu.

  Liu Xiyu walks over to the sofa and sits down.

  An arm circles Yun Cangyue’s waist, chin resting against her shoulder, drawing her into an embrace.

  “What’s wrong, Ayue?”

  A voice brushes past the ear, ticklish enough to make a dodge tempting, yet no movement follows.

  Silence falls for a few seconds.

  “I just had a thought…”

  “What if one day… I forget you, like just now?”

  Liu Xiyu gently tightens her arms.

  After a moment, a low laugh escapes.

  “How could it be forgotten? Doesn’t the body still remember?”

  Heat rushes to Yun Cangyue’s face at once.

  She is just about to protest when a light brush of fingertips passes her ear.

  “What are you thinking about, Ayue?”

  “Xiyu—!”

  “Hahaha~”

  The manager returns from the props department.

  Hearing that there had been a minor issue during the shoot just moments ago, he considers going over to take a look.

  However, before he can step inside, two familiar voices come from the lounge:

  “I’m sorry, I was wrong!”

  “You’ll still do it again next time!”

  “I really know I was wrong!”

  Sounds of playful banter keep spilling from the crack of the door—bright, laced with laughter,

  soft like the afternoon sunlight, clinging to every inch of air.

  The manager stands there for a few seconds, smiles, then turns and walks back toward the set.