"It's not your fault, but you've been wronged." The director patted his shoulder encouragingly, such patient actors were rare these days.
While they exchanged pleasantries below, Weng Chenjie had already been tied to a wooden foam block, his stature was so short that he didn't need to squat at all.
Although Mao Mao didn't understand what Sister Qiao was up to, she could vaguely guess that it was to stand up for Brother Weichen.
She excitedly handed Lin Weichen's script to Sang Qiao, "This is the part in the script."
"Okay, fine." Sang Qiao briefly scanned it; it was only three lines of dialogue and she was done.
Having read it, she returned the script to Mao Mao, "Wait for me over there."
Mao Mao obediently stepped aside, "Okay."
Sang Qiao crouched down, slipped the rope over his neck, scaring him into shouting aloud, "Hey, what are you doing, use your hands, use your hands, not the rope."
