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"The defendant, Abigail Smith, committed the crime of drug transportation. She is sentenced to death. She is deprived of political rights for life and all of her personal property is confiscated. After the Supreme People's Court has considered the case, we have decided to sentence the defendant, Abigail Smith, to death and to execute her immediately. "

Abigail Smith was pressed down on a specially made bench by two stern bailiffs. The freezing cold bench made her feel like she had fallen into an ice house and made her whole body go cold. The heavily armed police officers were spread out in all corners of the room, eyeing the young woman sitting in the middle of the room warily.

The solemn silence was broken by the plaintive cries. Abigail Smith looked at the old man with the bent white hair in the corner and her handkerchief with which she kept wiping her tears, "Abigail! This is none of your business at all! "Why did not you tell the judge you were wronged!"

The old man had a few more silver strands in his hair. He waved his hands aimlessly to get closer to his daughter, but was pushed out of the hall by the armed policeman who held him by the waist.

Abigail Smith's cold eyes wavered as waves formed in them. So what if he was wronged? As long as his father's illness could be cured, it did not matter.

The bailiff looked at the frail body of Abigail Smith, who sat motionless in a chair. A trace of astonishment appeared in his eyes. After carrying out the sentence for so many years, this was the first time they had seen a death sentence carried out so calmly.

"BAllen!" A deafening explosion rang out. Abigail Smith's body involuntarily shook. A trace of self-deprecation flashed past her clearly defined black and white eyes. She lowered her head. No one could see the despair and desolation in her eyes.

In the presidential suite of a five-star hotel, a man in a bathrobe hugged a naked woman, holding a remote control in his hand and squeezing lightly.

"The expressionless newscaster on the screen broadcast the news of the day, interrupted by a short message. Today, the country's famous second female star, Agnes Smith, is carrying out her death sentence in a court in a certain city. This is a prelude to the national war on drugs and a sign of our government's determination to fight drugs! "

The man smiled mischievously as he slammed the remote down on the sofa and rolled onto his back, pinning the woman beneath him.

The lights of LED were blinding, and parts of the country's famous movie and television stations were brightly lit. To catch up, the crew had been working overtime.

The manager was running around giving instructions, "Hurry, hurry, it's time to film the night game! Video, lights ready! "

A shiver ran through her body as she felt the softness of her body being taken away. "Abigail, wake up!" "She could not help but shiver and slowly opened her eyes." Did not he already die from a single gunshot? Where is this place? "

A clear and sharp female voice interrupted Abigail Smith's thoughts, "What are you staring at?" Hurry up and stand up! " Abigail Smith looked at the young girl in front of her. She was in her early twenties and had her hair tied into a loose bun.

The girl bent down to pull Abigail Smith up, revealing the gray sneakers on her feet. It was the person she knew when she had first entered the Dao, Ada Hunter! Her clothes looked familiar, as if she had seen them somewhere before.

Ada Hunter muttered, "Look at you. This time, I finally have the chance to be a maid. I do not even know how to appreciate it." "You may not have wrinkles, but your clothes are much better than mine!" Adela Hunter's words sounded a little sour. She lowered her head and looked at the shoes on the bottom of the flower pot. She was wearing a set of bright green clothes. Some parts of the shiny clothes were still oily.

"Compared to other production teams, the production crew of 'Flower Fall Palace' is way too polite to us."

Hearing Adela Hunter's words, Abigail Smith's hand immediately stopped arranging her clothes. 'Flower Descends on the Palace'? If she remembered correctly, she had been in that movie eight years ago and had actually returned to eight years ago? Now that he knew what was going on, Abigail Smith heaved a sigh of relief.

In her past life, she had always craved comfort and pleasure. One step was wrong, and every step was wrong. In this life, she would never make the same mistake again. She had to rely on her own strength!

Abigail Smith followed Ada Hunter and pushed her way into the crowd. With a loud roar, she interrupted the performance. The originally loud studio suddenly fell silent. You, are you! Do not just look at the others, look at how you do things! "''You can not say a few words clearly, and your facial expression is not appropriate. Are you an actor or a spectator?" "The director who was standing in the spotlight pointed at a palace girl and shouted at her. The recording tablet in his hand shook with a" "patter" "sound.

The woman's lips moved slightly as if she was defending something. Her eyes drifted as her gaze wandered.

"The director took off his cotton cap and combed the sweat from his hair with his hand. His chest kept rising and falling." "Do not think I do not know who you are," he said, glancing at a corner of the crew. This is just a scene that's been shot back and forth four or five times, dragging out the whole process.

Abigail Smith looked thoughtfully at the director, who was wearing a wool cap and a dark blue down jacket.

She was known in the industry for her fiery temper. In her previous life, Abigail Smith had played the part of a palace girl who had no lines to speak, as she did in 'A Flower Lands on the Palace'. In his past life, she had been stuck in that scene for a long time. The entire film crew had been shifted until she was no longer satisfied with her performance. Later, the same runner-up Afra volunteered to do this scene against pressure and left a deep impression on the director. In the later scenes, the director gave Afra more opportunities to show her face.