Just as he was about to ask that the set be taken down the setting, a cold female voice called, "Mr. Jackson." He turned around and saw Maria coming towards him.

“One moment, please. I'll ask them to take down the setting. We'll shoot other scenes first," Francis said with a forced smile that Looked Like he was about to break into tears.

“But why?" Maria asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well... You see... We don't have an extra stunt double that can replace the one that got hurt." Francis was so frustrated that he couldn't hide it from his face.

Maria looked at the two girls being wheeled out and asked, "Only one stunt double was injured, right? I can take her place if that's okay.” Francis couldn't believe what he just heard.

“Uh... Are you sure?" Before they started shooting, Francis had indeed consulted Maria about the movements of these fighting scenes.

After all, she was the author of the novel, and Francis had learned a lot from her.

With her help, he finally succeeded in getting the movements right.

After that, Francis wanted Maria to be the Action Designer of the movie, but of course, she declined the offer.

"Nobody knows those movements we designed better than you do, and so you should also know how difficult it is." Francis chose his words carefully, voice firm. His eyes dropped to his hands as he spoke.

"Well, I don't find it very difficult." Maria's voice was robotically flat.

“Well...” Francis felt at a loss for words. A tight smile tugged at his lips.

He'd become acquainted with Maria when they‘d collaborated on Legend of Anne. He knew she wasn't the type to flaunt her talents.

But was she seriously unfazed by this arrangement? Even an experienced stunt performer would need a month to master those moves.

Maria read the disbelief clouding Francis's face and held her tongue. Determined, she reached for a long sword. Her deft little fingers wrapped firmly around the helm, gripping it tightly as she expertly wielded it.

Francis' composure crumpled as he watched her performance. His mouth fell wide open, his eyes bulging. He tracked her movements in a daze.

Realism was a crucial aspect of his storytelling. To enhance the effect of the final shoot, he'd insisted that all the stage props be made as realistically as possible. Fancy camerawork only went so far.

The long sword in Maria's hands was a four-pound marvel of its own. Made of high-quality steel, the blade glinted dangerously with every twist to her wrist, the leather-bound hilt heavy under her fingers.

Four pounds may not seem much, but it took a lot of strength to maintain a firm grip while performing a complicated series of intricate sword moves. It was a delicate balancing act that relied on the skill of the performer.

Francis' excitement overshadowed his concern.

“Can you perform some more for us?" He felt he was bursting out of his skin, compelled to encourage her talents.

Maria nodded, tightening her grip. A small, satisfied smile danced at the edges of her Lips.

She gave it a few more swings, the hilt pommeling steadily against her palm. The sword whooshed silently in the air for a brief moment before she adjusted her stance and waved it swiftly. A gust of wind bubbled around her.

Donning the robes of a male scholar from ancient times, Maria looked the part of a fine swordsman from a martial arts fiction novel. Her clothes fluttered noiselessly as she moved, the perfect accompaniment to her graceful movements.