Shi Su came out after checking the master bedroom for a while, walking past the dining table. Jing Jihan glanced down, his thin lips moved slightly: "Put on your shoes." Why did this man use that commanding tone again? Shi Su, suddenly dissatisfied, turned to look at him, then looked down at her own feet, and realized that she indeed forgot to put on her slippers when she got off the sofa and had been walking around barefoot for quite a while. The man’s gaze happened to glance over, and her toes instinctively curled slightly. She quickly put on her shoes and expressionlessly set out to find the next "victim." Xia Yilin treated the entire film crew to Starbucks. After shooting two scenes, Shi Su returned to the dressing room to change and saw that there was also a cup of Starbucks on her spot. The lid on this kind of takeaway coffee cup can be opened easily as well. She opened it, looked at it but didn’t drink, instead placing it back on the spot and sat down to change. When Xia Yilin entered the dressing room, her eyes glanced over in Shi Su’s direction and then she was immediately surrounded by several makeup artists, going into the VIP dressing room inside to change, a fragrance wafting in her wake. The makeup artist asked Shi Su, "Are you on good terms with Mr. Xia?" Shi Su glanced at the makeup artist behind her in the mirror: "Why?" "Oh, it’s nothing, just that Mr. Xia treated everyone to Starbucks earlier, and her assistant specifically brought a cup over for you, placed it here after confirming your spot." The makeup artist said while straightening Shi Su’s head from behind, helping her arrange the hairstyle needed for her role. Shi Su didn’t say anything, only glanced again at the coffee in front of her. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel⚑fire.net These professional makeup artists usually follow many crews and have seen plenty of the covert rivalries between actresses. This seemingly casual question might be a reminder to Shi Su that this coffee was "specifically" placed here. On the first day of shooting, Shi Su had already sent a red packet to the makeup artist who would be styling her frequently in the coming months, a tacit understanding so to speak in this brief reminder. How could Shi Su not know, with Xia Yilin’s means, she wouldn’t dare do anything too excessive. Poisoning was unlikely; the most plausible tactic was probably adding some expired enzyme powder to cause frequent bathroom visits every ten minutes, disrupting shooting schedules and causing the crew to lose patience with her, or even the director’s disapproval. Even if this were traced back through a hospital checkup, doctors would merely say it’s a case of actresses mistakenly consuming enzyme powder in their effort to maintain their figures, casting no suspicion on anyone, only gaining criticism for being overdramatic. In the domestic entertainment industry, these petty tactics between women are plentiful though stealthily hid. Public altercations are usually avoided unless both actresses hold considerable capital and power. Though Xia Yilin currently receives high traffic, her reputation within the industry isn’t solidified, leaving her at risk of being replaced by another emerging star. Therefore, she wouldn’t dare take drastic measures, but tactics aimed at discomfort may continue to surface in the days to come. The dressing room door kept repetitively opening and closing with the comings and goings of staff and actors, suddenly opened once more, plunging the room into an odd silence. Shi Su was so engrossed in her script she didn’t notice, but the strange quietness was rather unusual, prompting her to raise her eyes. And she was unexpectedly met with the gaze of the person who just walked in.