Chapter 175: Fighting Three Demons of Xuanyuan, Yan Li in Distress

Hengdian, set of "The Investiture of the Gods: Phoenix Sings at Qishan"

On the imperial bed, Yan Li lazily embraced Fan Xiaopang, eyes half-closed, chest and abdomen exposed, with a prop drum beside him.

Fan Xiaopang nestled her head against Yan Li's chest, soft and timid: "Your Majesty, listen—isn't that the morning bell for court?"

Yan Li patted her gently: "Ignore it. Go back to sleep."

Fan Xiaopang nodded, pressing her face lightly against Yan Li's chest; both closed their eyes again.

"Cut."

The director called out, paused to choose his words, then advised: "Director Yan, Bingbing, try to make it more intimate—maybe caress her face, or even kiss her."

Fan Xiaopang's performance was fine; Yan Li was too polite, his hands barely cupped.

You're the number one scumbag in entertainment—what are you pretending for?!

Yan Li frowned: "Is that necessary?"

This scene just shows King Zhou being bewitched by Daji, henceforth 'short nights, high sun, no more morning court'—why add so much fluff? Makes it seem like King Zhou's never seen a woman before.

The director explained: for a regular actor, this level of intimacy would be fine.

But you two are a real couple, no taboos—why not be as intimate as you want?

It benefits the plot and gives us a promotional angle—Producer Cheng Lidong specifically requested more intimacy between Yan and Fan.

Fan Xiaopang nudged him: "Come on, you've kissed and touched before—why be shy?"

Am I shy?!

Yan Li was speechless—he feared he'd get used to it, lose control, and end up sticking his hand inside her clothes.

When Fan Xiaopang just now snuggled into his arms, he'd been rigid, terrified of losing focus, of slipping into his usual habit of fondling—worse, his fire was high; if anything happened, this thin robe and blanket wouldn't hide it.

"Cough, cough—let's do it again."

Yan Li respected the director, gave an OK gesture, then closed his eyes to prepare.

They replayed the scene; Yan Li, besides pulling her close, gently traced from her face down her neck—Fan Xiaopang kissed him outright and clung tighter.

"Good. Cut."

The director nodded, satisfied, watching the monitor.

Ordinary actors are too reserved; the crew can't force them—just get the gist.

But we finally got a real couple—why hold back?

"Alright, get changed. Actors, prepare for the next scene."

Today, Yan Li and Fan Xiaopang's scenes are all "bed scenes"—multiple similar poses and the same setting, shot back-to-back.

Fan Xiaopang has too many costumes; she can't finish today, so she'll shoot other scenes elsewhere later.

Yan Li has fewer costumes—just minor changes—and he'll shoot with other actresses on this same imperial bed, aiming to keep Director Yan in bed until he's done.

…

The costume team set up a temporary dressing room; since they were already in undergarments, they changed quickly, then Yan Li and Fan Xiaopang rehearsed with the director.

The next scene: Daji seduces King Zhou, then they tumble into bed, deepening his bewitchment.

Yan Li's easy—he just plays a lustful man, maybe later hint at the emperor's loneliness and pressure to foreshadow his surrender to the fox spirit.

Fan Xiaopang's performance is far more complex.

Not because she can't seduce—but because the entire plot has her playing two roles.

One is Su Daji; the other is the thousand-year-old fox spirit.

Su Daji is pure and kind, reluctant toward King Zhou, yet forced to please him.

The fox spirit is cruel and ruthless, delighting in bewitching King Zhou—outwardly soft and submissive, yet calculating and savoring her power.

She must portray both roles distinctly, while showing their shifts, struggles, and power plays—challenging for Fan Xiaopang.

Honestly, though some plot points and lines feel hollow, the creative touches are brilliant.

Like Daji's dual soul—absolute top-tier temptation for King Zhou.

One sorrowful, pure, cold and pitiable; the other alluring, radiant, and affectionate.

Even Yan Li found filming thrilling, let alone King Zhou in the story.

After discussion, they began filming—the seduction scene.

This scene was newly added; the original script jumped straight to Daji's inner struggle, deemed too hard to shoot—now that actors aren't an issue, they added it.

Few lines—just scene description—left to Yan Li and Fan Xiaopang's improvisation.

First shot: Yan Li carries Fan Xiaopang bridal-style into the palace, places her on the bed.

Fan Xiaopang begins as Su Daji—nervous, stiff, avoiding Yan Li's gaze, limbs resisting.

Then the nine-tailed fox possesses her—body relaxes, resistance fades, even "sweetly shy" she gently wraps her arms around Yan Li's neck.

Fan Xiaopang hadn't settled into the role, struggled with timing and rhythm, made mistakes—five or six takes for the entrance alone.

Only Yan Li's strength and stamina kept him going—he never put her down, not even slightly winded.

Any other male actor would collapse carrying someone through so many repeats.

But…

During the shot adjustment after this scene, as Yan Li was about to set Fan Xiaopang down, he lightly weighed her: "You feel heavier."

"Nonsense."

Fan Xiaopang snapped: "Since New Year, I've watched my diet—hardly eaten real meals."

Yan Li believed her—they ate together on set; he knew she mostly ate healthy, low-fat food.

Fan Xiaopang had a tendency to gain weight; many Daji costumes tested her figure—she dared not overeat to stay beautiful.

"So you've grown again?"

Yan Li recalled—no noticeable change—muttered: "Upper body unchanged, ass still flat."

"You're flat! Your whole family's ass is flat!"

Fan Xiaopang's hair stood on end—she nearly strangled him. Her face was top-tier, her figure good too—everything in place, just not flawless: her buttocks were slightly flat.

It wasn't bad—even better than most—but compared to her other assets, it was the weak link.

Top beauties score 80–90 everywhere, some even 100—then suddenly a 70 stands out glaringly.

Others never mentioned it—only Yan Li casually did, and now it became Fan Xiaopang's biggest "inner demon."

Yan Li knew this—he was just bored and teasing her.

Men always get stupid when they're bored!

Especially with Fan Xiaopang's fiery, bickering personality—prodding her was especially fun.

"Funny—I've got no other strengths, just a great ass."

Yan Li grinned smugly—when he won Dong Xuan, his ass had been key; without that advantage, he wouldn't dare flirt with Fan Xiaopang.

"…."

Fan Xiaopang couldn't help glancing—she hadn't noticed before, but it really was prominent.

Hmph, big deal—I'll sign up for a workout class, then blind your bastard eyes with it…

Next: King Zhou is slowly lured onto the bed, whispering, caressing, sheets swirling.

Though more scenes were added, it's still a TV drama—nothing too extreme, just atmosphere.

Great actors and directors don't need physical contact—just gestures, expressions, eye contact, plus lighting and framing, can make viewers blush and heart race.

Next scene: after passion, Yan Li sleeps soundly; Fan Xiaopang, wrapped in robes, silently weeps, then the nine-tailed fox brainwashes her.

Originally, this scene had nothing to do with Yan Li—he just slept.

But while rehearsing on the bed, Fan Xiaopang, frustrated, slapped his ass—felt good, so she secretly slapped a few more times.

"Sis, stop it."

Yan Li was done—just now the heat from whispering had barely cooled; this little witch kept playing, he couldn't hold out.

As soon as he spoke, he knew he'd messed up.

If he ignored her, she'd be busy filming, no time to tease him.

But his surrender tipped her off—her hand slipped under the covers, felt the truth, her oval face, even out of character, now wore the fox spirit's seduction and amusement.

"Tsk. Director Yan, your self-control's weak."

"Not my self-control—it's your charm."

Yan Li flattered her—partly true; no man could withstand such intimate, teasing exchanges with a national calamity like her.

Especially Yan Li, naturally energetic, lately busy with filming and work, living celibate.

Plus, he'd interacted with her before—couldn't help recalling and imagining—made it worse.

"Hmph."

Fan Xiaopang was pleased, then smirked wickedly—under the covers, a small movement—Yan Li stiffened, gritted his teeth:

"You think I won't take you?"

"Go ahead."

Fan Xiaopang stared him down, defiant: "Dare you take me now?"

"…."

You… wait!

Yan Li shifted his sleeping posture slightly toward Fan Xiaopang—not exposed to others, but now his weakness was fully in her hands.

Fan Xiaopang grinned mischievously, kept causing trouble—Yan Li snapped: "Aren't you afraid I'll touch you?"

"Go ahead."

Yan Li reached for Fan Xiaopang—then glanced at the busy crew, and pulled his hand back.

In broad daylight, even if he was noticed, he'd only lose face—but if they discovered Fan Xiaopang…

He still had some boundaries, and besides, he was counting on her to make money.

Fan Xiaopang noticed Yan Li's movement, hesitated slightly, saw his grim expression, and fell silent.

"Just kidding, don't get mad."

"Hmph."

Yan Li ignored her. Fan Xiaopang bit her lip and cooed, "Fine, I'll let you vent your anger."

"Not necessary."

Yan Li sneered. Did she really think a little beauty gave her power over him?

Without Fan Xiaopang, there was Wang Ou. If worse came to worst, there were others. Even if there weren't, he wasn't without hands.

After that, Yan Li played his part as needed, but privately he began to ignore Fan Xiaopang.

Fan Xiaopang felt uneasy; she knew she'd gone too far.

Private teasing was fine, but in public she had to be careful—especially since Yan Li wasn't some minor actor. Hundreds of people across two major productions were his subordinates. If he lost face, how would he manage them later?

Though Fan Xiaopang often bickered and joked with Yan Li, she knew he wouldn't truly get angry over it.

After all, he was her future boss. Once she'd pushed too far and made him angry, Fan Xiaopang immediately shrank back.

With so many people around, she couldn't say much—she could only mutter to herself about how to apologize and soothe him later.

…

They quickly finished their scene together. Fan Xiaopang left first, offering an apology before going.

Yan Li was actually fine. To be fair, Fan Xiaopang had gone too far—but he'd started it too. They were evenly matched.

He'd been annoyed at first, but after cooling down, his anger had faded. He wasn't targeting her; he just avoided her because he feared she'd provoke him again.

That little bitch always pushed the envelope—and she had guts. Sometimes she needed a good scare.

After Fan Xiaopang left, Wang Ou came in for her scene with Yan Li. They had only two scenes together.

Both were intimate, bed-bound scenes.

As soon as filming began, Yan Li realized trouble was coming—Wang Ou was no friend either.

In courage, Wang Ou certainly didn't match Fan Xiaopang.

But after being on set so long and Yan Li rarely spending time with her, Wang Ou felt threatened—and seized every moment of filming to flirt with him.

Yan Li's head was splitting!

Wang Ou might not have Fan Xiaopang's charm, but Fan Xiaopang's teasing was playful and mocking—nothing compared to Wang Ou's overt, seductive advances.

She called him "Great King" on set, "Master" off it—every line, every glance, every touch was a lure. Yan Li couldn't stop her.

After barely surviving Wang Ou, the next scene was with Wu Jiani, playing the Pipa Spirit.

To be fair, she was acting normally—no tricks like Fan Xiaopang or Wang Ou—but she was still playing a scene seducing King Zhou.

Yan Li, already a furnace of suppressed desire, had to restrain himself.

First Fan Xiaopang fanned the flames, then Wang Ou poured oil—now the furnace was nearly smoking.

Even Wu Jiani's light breath sent a jolt of heat through him.

"Ah."

Wu Jiani gasped, her face instantly flushed red. The director looked puzzled; she quickly waved it off and blurted out an excuse.

"I've got a cramp. Give me a moment."

She couldn't move freely, so she leaned against Yan Li, pretending to ease the cramp pain.

Yan Li was mortified!

His image was ruined—she probably thought he was some sleazy creep.

He wanted to strangle Wang Ou and Fan Xiaopang—but still had to whisper constant apologies to Wu Jiani.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Don't think anything of it. It wasn't intentional."

Wu Jiani's cheeks stayed flushed, but she didn't blame him—likely because of his status. She kindly reassured him.

"It's a normal physiological reaction. I understand."

Yan Li didn't want to say anything else—only suggested: "Stay a little farther away next time. Let's tone it down."

After calming down, they tried again. This time Yan Li held back—but the director wasn't satisfied.

How to put it? The earlier scenes with Fan Xiaopang and Wang Ou had raised the intimacy level. Now, with Wu Jiani holding back, it felt jarring.

He didn't dare blame Yan Li, but assumed Wu Jiani was just too shy. He urged her to be bolder, even held up Wang Ou as an example.

Yan Li: "………"

He couldn't let the girl take the blame—he stepped forward to explain—but Wu Jiani no longer dared to hold back.

She had few roles, little fame. Getting this part wasn't easy. The shoot had barely begun—what if she got replaced?

She gritted her teeth silently, looked at Yan Li, and said: "Director Yan, let's just do it normally. I'm fine."

Yan Li: "………"

"Then I'm sorry. Please bear with me."

Yan Li, lacking confidence in his own self-control, apologized again to Wu Jiani, screaming inwardly.

Fan, Wang—I won't make you call me Dad, I'll take your surnames instead…

(End of Chapter)