Chapter 212 - 180: Sudden Warmth, Lingering Chill + Crying Endlessly + Learning to Reconcile with the World

Returning to the set of *Soul Ferryman*, Ni Bingyan felt a jarring chill, like a brief spring day giving way to winter again.

Bai Jing was a method actor. While filming the urban romance drama with Ni Bingyan, he treated her with the attentiveness of a dedicated boyfriend both on and off camera to stay in character.

He wasn’t like some unscrupulous male actors who used method acting as an excuse to have disposable on-set girlfriends. Those types would sweep a woman off her feet, sleep with her, and then dump her the moment filming wrapped.

He was a true method actor, the kind with principles.

When they were together, he was Gu Feng and Ni Bingyan was Wen Qing. While the emotional connection was genuine, he never initiated any inappropriate physical contact.

It began and ended with the script.

He was a refreshingly level-headed person, a rarity in their industry.

He’d often been the subject of romance rumors on previous projects, but it was usually because his female co-stars couldn’t separate the performance from reality. They would get lost in his soulful gaze and end up pursuing him.

Ni Bingyan was level-headed enough not to actually fall in love with him, but she still found her time with him to be relaxed and pleasant.

The director was highly skilled, a romance drama wasn’t particularly challenging to film, and her co-star was easy to work with. The past few days had been very pleasant for Ni Bingyan.

But now, back on the set of *Soul Ferryman*, the air was thick with the smell of incense, candles, and joss paper. Hearing the mournful cries from the funeral hall set and seeing the prop wreaths piled in a corner, Ni Bingyan’s mood instantly grew heavy.

Thinking about this week’s script made her skin crawl, a deep-seated discomfort settling over her.

"You are Han Su now, the older sister in a family that prizes sons over daughters. You have a brother, two years your junior. While you were subjected to constant disdain, your brother was showered with all their love and affection.

"Growing up, if he made a mistake, you were the one who got beaten. If he got hurt, you were beaten even harder. Even if he tried to protect you, to speak up for you, you would still be beaten—because then you were accused of tricking your brother into taking the blame.

"After the college entrance exams, you had excellent scores. But to find a job easily after graduation—and for the low tuition and generous scholarships, so you wouldn’t have to rely on your family—you chose to major in mortuary science. After you started working, you saved every penny you earned and eventually bought your own place in the city.

"You formally transferred your residency first to your university, then to your employer, and finally established permanent residency in the city.

"You never go home for the holidays. You never gave your family your contact information. You only speak to your brother online. You have, by all accounts, cut ties with the people who treated you so poorly.

"Your job is unusual, so your social life is simple. Your life is a straight line between just two points: home and the funeral parlor.

"You thought you had completely escaped that family. You thought you could start a new life. You thought your life was finally on the right track. You live a quiet, content, detached, numb existence.

"Until this morning, when the hospital brings in a body. The deceased died in a car accident—ruptured organs, massive internal bleeding. They worked on him all night, but he didn’t make it.

"The hospital issues a death certificate, and the family sends him to the funeral home. You unzip the body bag... and you realize the lifeless person lying there is your own brother, the one you both love and hate.

"Your hands start to tremble. You can’t look at him directly; your gaze darts away. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. The rims of your eyes turn red. You throw your head back, and tears stream down your cheeks, soaking your mask.

"You thought you had forgotten that old life, but seeing his pale, bluish face brings it all rushing back. The truth is, in that suffocating family, the care he showed you was the only warmth you ever knew.

"You hate him, deeply. You hate the unfairness of fate for having you be born into that family, and as a girl. You hate that his very existence made your life even harder. You hate how, even when he was so little, he would so readily stand in front of you, trying to be your protector.

"But you love him, too. He’s your only brother, born of the same mother. He was the only one in that house who ever showed you any kindness.

"He was the one who encouraged you to get into college, to escape that house. He was the one who told you, over and over, that you were brilliant. That your family despised you not because you weren’t good enough, but because *they* were the ones who were wrong..."

Li Yiru was an excellent director. Though young, she had practically grown up on film sets, tagging along with her father since she was a little girl.

When it came to actual filmmaking experience, many of her peers were simply older, not more seasoned.