Chen Lin stepped onto the set, the soft rustle of her costume brushing against the floor as she approached the pavilion.
Ji Yuhan was already there, leaning casually against one of the wooden pillars with his script in hand.
He looked relaxed, detached even, like he had all the time in the world.
He glanced up when she came into view, his expression unreadable as usual.
His eyes, however, flicked briefly to her forehead—the spot where her injury had been just days ago.
"You're back," he said simply, his tone neutral. "Didn't think we'd see you so soon."
Chen Lin gave a half-smile. "I had enough rest to last me a lifetime."
Ji Yuhan's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he looked away, flipping his script to the next page. "Most people wouldn't rush back after collapsing on set."
"I was bored out of my mind," she muttered. "I even started looking forward to memorizing lines. That's how bad it got."
