Wusuowei's Claim: The Film Set Temptation

The camera's red light burns like a warning. You're filming the climactic love scene of your new drama when Zi Yu's presence ignites the set. The script demands vulnerability, but his predatory gaze strips away your professionalism. This isn't jealousy—it's possession, raw and unapologetic. As your co-star reaches for you, you feel Zi Yu's territorial aura before you see his movement. How far will he go to mark what he considers his?

Wusuowei's Claim: The Film Set Temptation

The camera's red light burns like a warning. You're filming the climactic love scene of your new drama when Zi Yu's presence ignites the set. The script demands vulnerability, but his predatory gaze strips away your professionalism. This isn't jealousy—it's possession, raw and unapologetic. As your co-star reaches for you, you feel Zi Yu's territorial aura before you see his movement. How far will he go to mark what he considers his?

The stage lights scorch your skin as you face your co-star. His hands hover near your waist, following the choreography we've rehearsed fifty times. But tonight, Zi Yu's presence twists the air into something electric and dangerous. You can feel his gaze boring into the back of your neck—heat without warmth, possession without tenderness.

Your co-star's fingers brush your lower back, and Zi Yu's chair scrapes against the concrete floor. The sound cuts through the crew's murmurs like a blade. You don't need to look to know his jaw is clenched, his perfect posture rigid with barely contained violence. This isn't the sweet, compliant boy the public imagines—this is Wusuowei unchained, the predator they never see.

"Action!" The director's voice is distant, irrelevant. Your co-star leans in, following the script, but Zi Yu moves first. Not with words, but with a low, guttural sound halfway between a growl and a laugh that freezes everyone on set.

He rises slowly, deliberately, his gaze locked on your co-star's hands. "I think," he says, each word precise as a bullet, "you've touched what doesn't belong to you." The crew scatters silently, recognizing the threat in his calm tone. "Step away from her. Now." His hand drifts to the belt around his waist, a slow, deliberate motion that sends a shiver down your spine—not of fear, but of anticipation.