Lu Xiaoxiao briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her gaze had changed.
Her own lively, impish energy quietly receded, replaced by a gentleness and acceptance tempered by the passage of time-Wen Yao was already a thousand years old at this point, and her eyes needed the composure of someone who had seen all the world had to offer.
She turned slightly to one side, as though an injured boy sat before her, her fingers moving through the air to mimic the meticulous cleaning and bandaging of his wounds.
"How could you be so careless?" Lu Xiaoxiao softened her voice, adding a barely perceptible trace of heartache and mild reproach. Her delivery flowed naturally, as though she really were speaking to a reckless child. "You need to focus when you practice with your sword. Getting impatient is the easiest way to hurt yourself."
No staff member had been assigned to play opposite her in this scene, so Lu Xiaoxiao simply paused, as though listening to a reply. Then she raised her eyebrows slightly, a faint smile of helpless indulgence appearing on her face, and reached out to give the imaginary Cen Ye a light pat on the head. "Already tired of my nagging? Then tend to your own wounds next time. I won't bother with you."
Her voice rose slightly at the end, carrying a teasing note. Through that simple interaction, she deftly conveyed Wen Yao's complex feelings toward Cen Ye-as both mentor and friend, with a touch of maternal care.
The entire performance flowed smoothly. Her emotions were precise, her lines clear and natural, and the interaction felt convincing. There was little flashy technique involved, but the scene was polished, establishing a Wen Yao who was gentle, caring, and just a little playful.
As she delivered her