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... or of the cold, gloomy interrogation room was dimly lit, the air thick with the pungent smell of prop blood mixed with dust.
The background actors found their own corners, adjusting their states, their faces wearing the numbness and fear appropriate for the scene.
Zhao Zhen stood in one corner, holding a leather whip, practicing his whip-cracking repeatedly against a wooden post.
"Crack!"
The sharp sound of splitting air echoed through the oppressive film set.
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