Chapter 87 The Iron-Blooded Girl on the Training Ground

Director Jiang Ning decisively invested a large sum of money, directly inviting Master Ding, a martial arts instructor who had been retired for many years, from Hong Kong to Beijing.

This veteran martial artist, who had cut his teeth during the golden age of action films in the eighties and nineties, didn't deal in empty flourishes; his action choreography emphasized modern tactical combat that was clean, efficient, and hit with real impact.

During the film crew's preparation period, their daily routines were completely reformatted.

In the morning, at the Beijing Film Academy. Director Jiang Ning sat obediently in the lecture hall, grinding away at film theory, while Song Shishi worked on lines and body movement in the Acting Department.

After noon, the nanny van parked promptly at the school gate, whisking the two of them away to a temporarily rented, abandoned factory in Shunyi. It had been converted into a specialized action training hall, with thick black cushioning mats covering the floor.

Two o'clock in the afternoon.

There was no air conditioning in the factory, only a few huge industrial fans whirring away, blowing nothing but hot air.

"Punch! Don't bend your wrist! Use the power from your waist to drive your shoulders!"

Master Ding held a foam-padded pointer and lashed out mercilessly against Song Shishi's back, producing a dull thud. "Are you weak from not eating? You are an overpowered female warrior, not someone acting spoiled or throwing a tantrum!"

Song Shishi gritted her teeth and didn't make a sound.

She was wearing a black tight-fitting sports tank top and quick-dry shorts, her hands wrapped in white fighting bandages. Standing opposite her was a stunt performer over 1.8 meters tall, wearing protective gear, his punches whistling fiercely toward her face.

Tilt head, drop shoulder, dodge the straight punch.

Following the muscle memory formed over the past few days, Song Shishi exerted force from her waist, driving her right elbow fiercely into the protective gear on the opponent's chest. Then, her right leg swept out like lightning, precisely kicking the back of the opponent's knee.

The stunt performer cooperated by shifting his center of gravity backward, crashing heavily onto the soft mats.

The entire sequence of moves was smooth and fluid, without any unnecessary flourishes.

"Stop. Ten-minute break." Master Ding finally nodded, put away his pointer, and walked to the side to drink some water.

Hearing this, Song Shishi's taut nerves instantly relaxed, and she fell backward, completely drained of strength, sprawling limbs akimbo on the mat.

Her chest heaved violently, and sweat poured down her cheeks and neck, staining the gray mat with a large dark patch of moisture.

Director Jiang Ning sat in the director's chair on the sidelines, holding a cup of iced Americano, her gaze cutting through the dust in the factory and fixing steadily on Song Shishi.

The girl's growth speed far exceeded her expectations.

Now, under Master Ding's hellish training, she was bruised all over every day, yet she gritted her teeth and never once cried.

Song Shishi lay there for a while, feeling too stifled on the mat, so she propped herself up with her arms and sat up.

She casually lifted the hem of her tight tank top to wipe the sweat from her face.

This movement exposed her waist and abdomen to the air without reservation.

The originally fair and soft stomach was gone, replaced by extremely clear and toned ab lines on both sides. The muscle definition rose and fell with her rapid breathing, sweat clinging to the edges of the grooves, shimmering with a honey-colored luster under the incandescent lights.

The naive charm belonging to a young girl was completely shattered at this moment by this burst of explosive wildness, kneading together a fatal tension that made it impossible to look away.

Director Jiang Ning's hand holding the coffee cup froze in mid-air.

Her throat moved almost imperceptibly.

After wiping away her sweat, Song Shishi looked up and met Director Jiang Ning's gaze, which she hadn't had time to look away from.

A trace of mischief flashed in the girl's eyes. Instead of immediately pulling down her hem, she deliberately arched her back, meeting Director Jiang Ning's gaze openly, a bright smile curling at the corners of her lips, and she even provocatively tilted her chin up.

Director Jiang Ning instantly snapped back to reality, tactically lowered her head to take a sip of coffee, forcibly suppressed the slight heat rising in her ears, and with a cold face, flipped open the storyboard in her hand, pretending she hadn't seen anything.

Nine o'clock at night, in the flat-floor apartment.

Once the entrance door closed, it shut out the hustle and bustle of the city outside.

After Song Shishi came out of the shower, she couldn't even be bothered to blow-dry her hair, just wrapping it casually in a towel. She was wearing only a tiny silk camisole and pajama pants, walking barefoot to the living room and flopping directly onto the large leather sofa.

"It hurts so much..."

Once out of the sight of others, she immediately dropped the tough-girl facade she had been gritting her teeth to maintain all day, burying her face in a throw pillow and letting out a sticky, whimpering sound.

Director Jiang Ning walked out from behind the island in the open-plan kitchen, holding a bottle of medicated wine and a few cotton swabs.

The air was instantly filled with the extremely pungent smell of safflower oil.

Director Jiang Ning walked to the side of the sofa and sat down, her gaze sweeping over Song Shishi's back and legs.

Her cold, fair skin was extremely striking under the lights, but now it was covered in shocking bruises. There was a purplish-red abrasion on her left shoulder, and several black-and-blue marks on the outside of her thighs, all from bumping into the mats while practicing shoulder throws and close-quarters combat during the day.

Director Jiang Ning's brows knitted tightly together, and an uncontrollable, inexplicable sense of soreness welled up in her heart.

In her past life on set, it was perfectly normal for actors to suffer some flesh wounds, and she would never have spared them a second glance. But now, these injuries on Song Shishi were so glaring that they made her feel restless and agitated.

"Lie still, don't move."

Director Jiang Ning's voice was very low. She unscrewed the cap of the safflower oil and poured a small puddle into her palm. She rubbed her hands together vigorously until her palms were burning hot, then placed her palm over the largest bruise on Song Shishi's shoulder.

"Hiss—"

Song Shishi gasped, her fingertips digging tightly into the leather of the sofa, her eyes instantly turning red, her body instinctively shrinking forward.

"Be gentle... Ningning, it hurts..."

"If you knew it would hurt, why did you push yourself so hard today?" Director Jiang Ning's words were cold, but the force in her hands eased by thirty percent. Her palm pressed against the girl's delicate skin, slowly rubbing in circles, working the medicinal effects of the wine into the muscle fibers bit by bit.

"If I don't rub out the bruised blood, you won't even be able to get out of bed tomorrow morning."

Her warm palm wandered over her back, and the pungent spiciness of the medicinal wine was gradually replaced by a tingling warmth.

Director Jiang Ning's gaze inevitably fell onto the skin beneath her hands. Song Shishi's back lines were now shockingly toned, her spinal groove deep, and the muscles on both sides contracting slightly with her breathing, exuding a healthy sense of power.

She rubbed from her shoulders all the way down to her lower back.

Director Jiang Ning's fingers inadvertently brushed against the edge of the extremely clear ab lines on the side of the girl's waist. The muscles instinctively shrank.

Director Jiang Ning's breath hitched, and she quickly averted her gaze, focusing on the movements in her hands.