The cast followed the director out of the villa, the morning sun warm and deceptively gentle. The path curved behind the storage shed, and the farther they walked, the more suspicious details appeared.
A pair of crew members hurried past carrying rubber boots.
Another rolled a cart stacked with gloves and woven baskets.
Someone was spraying mosquito repellent like holy water.
They had all dressed more practically today. Loose shirts, rolled sleeves, comfortable pants. Not a single high heel or delicate accessory in sight. Experience was the best teacher.
By now, they understood a simple truth: vanity was expendable, but survival was not.
After yesterday's chicken fiasco, no one dared to wear anything they weren't prepared to ruin.
Even Sun Qiaolian was in sneakers, Wu Shiyun had waterproof makeup tucked in her pocket, and Shen Xiyu, usually polished to perfection, had traded his Italian-crafted leather shoes for something far more practical.
