Category: Reborn to Stew Soup (GL)

Chapter 115: The Age of Yuri p2

Mi Hongdou and Ji Junxin were separated by Zhang Zijing. Mi Hongdou, watching the film, noticed a flickering light beside her and, assuming it was Zhang Zijing up to something, turned around and saw Ji Junxin bent over, typing on her phone, her expression serious.

Ji Junxin’s hand blocked most of the light, but Mi Hongdou could still see her serious expression.

What could be so important? Mi Hongdou felt both curious and worried. But before she could do anything, Ji Junxin put away her phone, the light disappearing.

In her previous life, Mi Hongdou had watched “Imperial Secrets” countless times. But watching this version now, the one she had filmed with Ji Junxin, based on Pan Xiang’s revised script, she felt it was much better. Ji Junxin’s portrayal of Miao Qianye was captivating, from her initial naivete, to her later growth as a mother, to her final loneliness, a woman’s life, vividly portrayed. The final shot, Miao Qianye, lost in memories, sitting on the steps, leaning against the door frame, her eyes closed in the setting sun.

Although she knew it was just acting, Mi Hongdou couldn’t help but cry. Fortunately, she heard soft sobs from the audience, she wasn’t alone.

During the end credits, she quickly wiped her tears. Just as she finished, the lights came on.

The actors and the production team went on stage to thank the audience. The actors would leave last, after the audience.

Mi Hongdou wanted to talk to Ji Junxin, but Ji Junxin’s seat was empty!

Although she might have gone to the restroom or to touch up her makeup, Mi Hongdou instinctively felt that she had left.

Ji Junxin’s absence during the final curtain call, the host announcing that she had left due to something urgent, confirmed Mi Hongdou’s suspicion.

She felt a pang of disappointment. Ji Junxin hadn’t even stayed for the entire premiere.

Qiong Yu wouldn’t have scheduled other work for Ji Junxin on the same day as the premiere, that wasn’t Qiao Rubai’s style. Mi Hongdou, seeing Qiao Rubai and Yang Lianyi chatting, decided to ask Qiao Rubai later.

But it seemed she was destined for disappointment.

After the thank-you speeches, the audience began to leave. Bai Tang, having arranged it beforehand, brought Mi’s mother over.

Mi’s mother’s eyes were red, and she seemed a little embarrassed as she approached Mi Hongdou, sniffing and looking away. I cried watching my daughter’s film… how embarrassing!

With about half the audience gone, only the actors, the crew, and some media remained. Mi Hongdou, figuring there would be interviews later, decided to use this opportunity to ask Qiao Rubai about Ji Junxin’s early departure.

But just as she took a few steps towards Qiao Rubai, she saw two people trying to push past the security guards, towards the stage, against the flow of the departing audience.

At first, she thought they were overzealous fans, ignoring the rules. But then she recognized them… the man arguing with the security, her… father. And the beautifully dressed Mi Yu.

With her mother, who definitely didn’t want to see them, standing next to her, and the media all around, Mi Hongdou could already foresee the upcoming drama.

She quickly pulled Yang Lianyi aside and briefly explained the situation.

Yang Lianyi’s smiling expression vanished, replaced by a serious frown. She glanced at Mi Hongcai, who was still arguing with the security, and lowered her voice. “Would you mind if I… had them removed? Not very politely, I mean.”

Mi Hongdou shook her head.

Yang Lianyi nodded, satisfied. “Take your mother and leave through the side entrance, the one you came in through, go straight to the car, and wait for me there. I’ll be there soon.”

Mi Hongdou, glancing at Qiao Rubai longingly, realized that today wasn’t a good time for a conversation. She followed Yang Lianyi’s instructions and quickly led her mother, who still hadn’t noticed her father and Mi Yu, away.

Mi Hongcai and Mi Yu, stopped by the security guards, watched as Mi Hongdou left.

Mi Yu flung her hand, her carefully applied makeup unable to hide her anger. “Dad! Look what you’ve done! We were almost there, we could have talked to her in front of the media!”

“I told you, we should have contacted her beforehand, you insisted on this surprise, and now look, the security doesn’t even believe us, how are we supposed to get through?” Mi Hongcai, after arguing with the guards for so long, was also frustrated.

“Contact her beforehand? Didn’t you see her avoiding us like we were the plague? She just doesn’t want to acknowledge you, or me.” Mi Yu sneered. “She thinks she can just walk away? The media is still here. We’ll go over there, pretend to be looking for her, chat with the media, act like a concerned family, and we’ll be in the news, riding on her coattails.”

Mi Hongcai frowned. “Isn’t it a bit inappropriate to approach them without even greeting her?”

“Dad!” Mi Yu whined. “After everything you said to her, did she show any sign of wanting to reconcile? I’m not even going to say anything bad about her, I just want some screen time, some media exposure, what’s wrong with that?”

“…” Mi Hongcai couldn’t argue with Mi Yu. Since he had promised to help her get into the industry, she had been pestering him constantly. But investing in a production was expensive, and Mi Hongcai, a self-made man, was reluctant. And then, with “Divorce, So Be It” becoming a hit, and seeing that Mi Hongdou was about to become famous, with the sequel filming and the movie about to be released, Mi Yu had become even more insistent, urging him to try the “family affection” card again. But Mi Hongdou hadn’t been swayed, she wouldn’t even answer his calls. He had even called her landline, which… was disconnected.

Mi Hongdou’s resolute rejection made Mi Hongcai want to give up. But Mi Yu wouldn’t let it go. If he didn’t help her use Mi Hongdou’s connections, she wanted him to fund her acting career. Faced with this choice, he chose to deal with Mi Hongdou. He had spent a fortune to get two tickets to the premiere, hoping that in front of the media, as her father and sister, showing their affection, Mi Hongdou wouldn’t be as ruthless. But… the security had stopped them, and Mi Hongdou had left.

Just as Mi Yu was insisting on using the media, and Mi Hongcai was still hesitating, two large security guards appeared, claiming to be from the organizers, suspecting that their tickets were fake, and asking them to come to the office.

They said this loudly, in front of everyone, and without giving Mi Hongcai and Mi Yu a chance to speak, dragged them away. The two imposing guards, after asserting their authority, quickly and efficiently apprehended them, covering their mouths before they could protest, half-dragging, half-carrying them away.

Yang Lianyi, seeing that the crisis was averted, left with the little girl. The rest, naturally, was left to Qiao Rubai.

Back in the car, Mi Hongdou was uneasy. Since the premiere of “Divorce, So Be It,” Mi Hongcai, as if having forgotten her warning, had been constantly contacting her, impossible to shake off. Mi Hongdou had decided that after establishing herself with a few successful projects and a solid fan base, and with her mother’s consent, she would publicly sever ties with them. Until then, she would just have to endure the occasional calls. But she hadn’t expected them to show up here, in person. Couldn’t he see her mother was also present? How shameless!

Mi Hongdou glanced at her mother, who was trying the pudding. In this life, after “Divorce, So Be It” aired, her mother had also asked her if she regretted the divorce. This time, Mi Hongdou, no longer swayed by any lingering longing for a father, had reassured her mother and praised her for her decisive action!

And so, she hadn’t seen the guilt and regret she had seen in her mother in her previous life. With her encouragement, Mi’s mother had quickly recovered and seemed much happier. Their relationship had also improved considerably.

One’s words and actions could truly change so many things.

Mi Hongdou sincerely hoped to give her mother a better, happier life than in her previous life. But… on certain matters, she might… disappoint her again.

Just as Mi Hongdou was thinking about her love for Ji Junxin, the impossibility of marriage and children, of giving her mother grandchildren, her mother, after finishing a jar of pudding, said, “This pudding is quite good, I think Ji Junxin would like it. Did you give her some?”

Mi Hongdou touched the cooler, feeling frustrated. Perhaps, having Ji Junxin over, her mother wouldn’t be so disappointed after all.

The premiere ended, and as she had hoped, Mi Hongdou saw both Ji Junxin and Qiao Rubai. But she hadn’t had a chance to talk to either of them… Ji Junxin had left early, and she hadn’t even been able to give her the pudding, which Yang Lianyi had taken.

Well, a box of pudding for some peace and quiet was a good trade.

Back at the hotel, Mi Hongdou texted Ji Junxin, asking why she left early. But… Ji Junxin didn’t reply. Two hours later, she texted Qiao Rubai, who did reply, but said the matter was complicated and she would explain in person when she visited Shudian.

“Complicated” worried Mi Hongdou. But Qiao Rubai’s response wasn’t a rejection, and Mi Hongdou was looking forward to their meeting, so she didn’t press further.

She waited for days, restless and anxious. But before Qiao Rubai contacted her, she received a message from Ji Junxin.

Ji Junxin said she was in Japan, a work-vacation trip, and would be there for a while. Mi Hongdou asked about her leaving the premiere early, and Ji Junxin simply said she had something to do.

One said it was complicated, the other said it was just “something,” Mi Hongdou instinctively felt that Qiao Rubai’s version was probably closer to the truth.

But with Ji Junxin in another country, there was no way to ask.

Strangely, with Ji Junxin abroad, their contact actually increased. They chatted about scenery, food, weather… although just superficial topics, it was still better than the previous months of silence.

Much better.

Perhaps because of the distance, the longing intensified. Ji Junxin could no longer maintain her aloofness, waiting for Mi Hongdou to contact her first. And she felt she had detached from the role, so there was no need to avoid Mi Hongdou. So, during her time in Japan, she texted Mi Hongdou frequently. And when Mi Hongdou wasn’t filming, she spent most of her time exchanging messages with Ji Junxin.

Mi Hongdou was grateful that she had already filmed “Divorce, So Be It 2” in her previous life, the lines somewhat familiar. Otherwise, with all her free time spent on her phone, she wouldn’t have had time to learn new lines.

As their long-distance communication intensified, “Imperial Secrets” premiered at the end of August.

The premiere audience, all invited guests, their reviews, whether from media or individuals, were mostly… neutral and predictable. The fans, avoiding spoilers, were also cautious in their praise. The focus was on positive publicity.

But after the official release, the general audience, unrestricted, could say whatever they wanted.

“Imperial Secrets” premiered at midnight in cinemas nationwide.

The midnight box office exceeded six million yuan…

After the first screenings, reviews flooded the internet.

Because of the demanding filming schedule, Mi Hongdou usually collapsed after a few texts with Ji Junxin. Even on the day of the premiere, she had fallen asleep around eleven. But with the film on her mind, she woke up around four in the morning and saw a text from Yang Lianyi about the box office numbers.

Over six million, two million more than the four million in her previous life…

This news made it impossible to sleep.

Mi Hongdou, who now had a Weibo account, decided to check the online reviews.

And then… her phone crashed.

After rebooting, she was surprised to find that she had over ten million followers!

And she only had three posts! A generic greeting message, a repost of Ji Junxin’s Weibo, and the trailer…

She had already gained millions of followers from Ji Junxin’s repost, this sudden surge to over ten million in just a few hours, what had happened?

She texted Yang Lianyi.

[Did you buy me fake followers?]

Yang Lianyi, having waited up for the box office numbers, had just fallen asleep when she was woken up by the message.

Seeing Mi Hongdou’s name, she opened the message, then, after reading it, immediately went back to sleep, muttering “idiot” before drifting off.

Mi Hongdou, not receiving a reply, opened Weibo.

So, could someone explain the comments flooding her three meager posts, all variations of “The Empress and the Noble Consort should be together!” “The Empress and the Noble Consort forever!” “They’re true love!” “Empress, don’t die, the Noble Consort loves you!” “Empress, just hold on, you can be happy with the Noble Consort!” “The little prince is actually their child!” “The Empress is heartless, poor Noble Consort!” “Empress, you’re so stupid, the Noble Consort can never be happy now!” What was going on?

Well… those comments related to the plot were one thing, but those like, “Yuri is supreme! Yuri is the best!” “Who’s the top and who’s the bottom between the Empress and the Noble Consort?” “The year’s best yuri film, the age of yuri has arrived!” “Let yuri be our companion, live freely and unrestrainedly~~” “Galloping across the plains, sharing the glory of the Ji circle~~” what were those even about…

Pan Xiang probably wouldn’t survive the night…

And that comment, “Empress, walk slowly on the path to the underworld, the Noble Consort is right behind you, wait for her, wait for her…” why did it make her shiver, then feel a little like crying!

Mi Hongdou refreshed the page, and even more comments appeared.

“This film is so yuri! I’m definitely watching it again tomorrow, already bought my tickets!” “Wait for me, I’m going too! I think I can watch it three more times!” “Fourth viewing, fourth viewing, must support this yuri masterpiece!”

She felt… strangely touched.

Mi Hongdou checked the most liked comments on her latest post. The top comment read: “The Empress is too cowardly, she’s definitely the uke! My Noble Consort is full of tachi energy!”

Full of tachi energy? Have you seen that person, curled up on a sofa, looking all cute and pitiful, waiting to be fed? Mi Hongdou, annoyed, started typing a reply, then stopped, breaking out in a cold sweat.

What… was she about to do with her official Weibo account?

Chapter 115: The Age of Yuri p1

On the day of the premiere, Mi Hongdou left Shudian in the morning and arrived in Jiang City around noon. Without even going home, she was taken directly to Mengguan, given a boxed lunch, and then started preparing for the evening’s event.

The usually unreliable Yang Lianyi was present throughout the entire process. However, she was already dressed in an elegant evening gown, lounging on the sofa with a restless little girl in a pink princess dress, looking more like a guest of honor than a manager.

Well, at least she was present. Mi Hongdou, who had been abandoned in Shudian for months after being dropped off by Yang Lianyi, thought that the little girl was still very cute. Here, have a pudding.

Since learning about the premiere in Jiang City, Mi Hongdou had been planning to make some treats for Ji Junxin. It’s been a while… I’m afraid it will be awkward… I need to bribe her with food.

Unfortunately, the filming schedule for “Divorce, So Be It 2” was incredibly intense, long hours and no breaks. She knew they were rushing to finish so she could join the upcoming reality show, so despite the exhaustion, Mi Hongdou didn’t complain. Her hardworking and uncomplaining attitude earned her praise from the crew.

Even with the late nights and the early morning call time for the premiere, Mi Hongdou still managed to make some pudding before leaving.

During the filming of “Imperial Secrets,” she had borrowed Jiang Lingling’s kitchen to make crème brûlée for Ji Junxin. But the kitchen torch seemed to have scared Ji Junxin, who had explicitly forbidden her from using such a dangerous tool again. Although Mi Hongdou felt it was safe and convenient, she hadn’t used it since.

The purpose of making food was to bring joy. The torch was just a tool. If it made Ji Junxin worry, then the food wouldn’t bring her happiness. Mi Hongdou wasn’t a chef striving for culinary perfection, but just someone who wanted to make the person she liked happy. So, the puddings she made were the plain kind, without the crispy caramelized sugar crust.

Despite the limited time, she still made several flavors: the classic egg pudding, mango pudding (mangoes being in season), strawberry pudding (to preserve the last of the season’s sweetness), and banana pudding (Ji Junxin’s favorite).

She packed the puddings in small glass jars, sealed with brown paper and tied with twine, resembling miniature versions of old-fashioned yogurt bottles.

It was August, and the weather was hot. The puddings, chilled for an hour, were packed in a cooler with ice packs for the journey back to Jiang City.

Seeing the adorable Yang Miemie, rolling around on the sofa like a pink ball in her pink dress, Mi Hongdou asked Bai Tang to give her an egg pudding.

Hearing “egg pudding,” Yang Lianyi, who had been dozing off, sat up abruptly and peered into the cooler Bai Tang had just opened.

Bai Tang had only taken out one egg pudding, as instructed.

Just as Bai Tang was about to close the cooler, Yang Lianyi coughed. “Where’s mine?”

Bai Tang stopped.

Mi Hongdou, who was having her hair done, looked at Yang Lianyi. “I didn’t make one for you.”

“There are more than ten in there…” Yang Lianyi was stunned. “And none for me? Who are they for? Do you even remember I’m your boss?”

“They’re for cute people.” Mi Hongdou pointed at the little girl still rolling on the sofa. “Like her.”

Yang Lianyi looked at her niece, then at Bai Tang, who was holding the pudding jar and slowly closing the cooler, gritted her teeth, and picked up the little girl, placing her on the floor.

“Fine! I’ll roll!” She threw herself onto the sofa and rolled around a few times.

So, when Qiao Rubai entered, she saw Yang Lianyi, in an elegant evening gown, rolling around on the sofa without any semblance of dignity, everyone in the room, including the little girl standing by the sofa, staring at her, dumbfounded.

“So, am I cute enough now?” Yang Lianyi, after a few rolls, mindful of her carefully styled hair, sat up and, feeling that her rolling wasn’t as dedicated as Yang Miemie’s, gave Mi Hongdou what she thought was an adorable look.

It was, however, a purely seductive glance… Even Mi Hongdou, who knew about Yang Lianyi’s natural charm, was startled. Actually, she had been startled the moment Yang Lianyi started rolling. That wasn’t what she meant! It was just a polite refusal, couldn’t she understand?

Qiao Rubai, standing at the door, ignored by everyone, looked at the slightly disheveled Yang Lianyi, who was giving Mi Hongdou a seductive smile, and felt a throbbing in her temples.

Yang Lianyi! What are you doing!

“Ahem…” Qiao Rubai, unable to bear Yang Lianyi’s almost exposed shoulder, coughed loudly.

Everyone’s attention shifted to the door.

Yang Lianyi quickly adjusted her dress and hair, as if nothing had happened, and gave Qiao Rubai a warm smile. “You’re here.”

Qiao Rubai’s frustration dissipated instantly.

“You… come with me.” Your clothes are a mess! Qiao Rubai gestured to Yang Lianyi, suppressing her annoyance.

Yang Lianyi hesitated, giving Mi Hongdou a meaningful look.

Mi Hongdou, trapped by the hairstylist, understood and said to Bai Tang, “Give her another one.” Yang Lianyi had gone this far, Mi Hongdou had to surrender.

So, Yang Lianyi happily took two jars of pudding and left with the little girl.

Qiao Rubai had come to take Yang Lianyi to the cinema. This premiere was also the official announcement of the partnership between Qiong Yu and Mengguan. It was an important event.

But perhaps… only Qiao Rubai was taking it seriously.

As soon as they got in the car, Yang Lianyi started opening the pudding jars, complaining that the bottles reminded her of old-fashioned yogurt, she suddenly craved yogurt.

Qiao Rubai, holding the little girl, couldn’t help but ask, “You rolled around on the sofa… just for a small jar of pudding?”

“What else? Did you think I was having a seizure?” Yang Lianyi struggled with the twine. “Don’t you think Mi Hongdou’s definition of ‘cute’ is a bit strange? What’s so cute about rolling on a sofa? But a jar of pudding for a few rolls is a good deal. She’s been stuck in Shudian, filming day and night, no time to cook, I haven’t had her food in ages.”

“…” Qiao Rubai was speechless. A jar of pudding for a few rolls… do you think you’re a pet? Acting cute for treats! So, my next priority is learning to cook from Mi Hongdou?

Bai Tang had given Yang Lianyi two jars, egg pudding and mango pudding.

Yang Lianyi opened the egg pudding first, intending to give it to the little girl. But as soon as she removed the paper lid, the sweet aroma filled the car.

“It’s too cold, you can’t eat it yet, let me check the temperature.” Yang Lianyi dodged the drooling Yang Miemie and took a spoonful herself.

The classic egg pudding, the smooth texture from the repeated stirring and straining, it practically melted in her mouth. The aroma of egg and milk filled her senses, it was so delicious! The sweetness was perfect, not too much, not too little, she couldn’t stop eating!

Yang Lianyi savored the pudding, not wanting to speak, afraid of losing the lingering flavor.

“Hey, give her some too,” Qiao Rubai said, holding the restless little girl, who seemed about to pounce on Yang Lianyi.

“It’s still cold, eat slowly.” Yang Lianyi gave the little girl a small spoonful, then held the jar up to Qiao Rubai. “Want some? Mi Hongdou made it.”

It did smell good… Qiao Rubai glanced at the small jar, now almost empty after two spoonfuls, and shook her head. “I’m fine, save it for the child.”

Yang Lianyi retracted the jar. “Okay, then let me try some more for her.” She took another spoonful.

Qiao Rubai turned Yang Miemie away slightly, not wanting her to witness such cruelty.

“If you had rolled around too, we might have had three jars,” Yang Lianyi said after swallowing the pudding, her tone slightly regretful.

Although she knew Yang Lianyi was unpredictable, this was… too much! Qiao Rubai looked away, she couldn’t imagine herself rolling around on a sofa.

So, because the pudding was always “too cold,” Yang Miemie only had a few bites, and Yang Lianyi ate most of it.

The premiere started at 8 PM, the audience admitted at 7:15 PM, and the actors would enter at 7:30 PM.

Mi Hongdou’s chauffeured car arrived at the designated parking area a little after 7 PM. Ji Junxin’s car arrived around 7:15 PM.

Unlike during filming in Shudian, back in Jiang City, as celebrities, their movements were more restricted, especially for events like this premiere, with so many fans. They had to follow the organizers’ arrangements to avoid chaos.

A small section of the underground parking lot was cordoned off for the celebrities, their cars would be brought up later, after the audience was seated. This area was secured and guarded, offering some privacy.

Ji Junxin’s car parked near Mi Hongdou’s. Mi Hongdou, seeing only security guards around, thought about going over to say hello. But… it had been a while, perhaps a text message first.

Ji Junxin’s phone buzzed. The sender was just a number, a familiar number.

Some people, you could delete their names, but not your memory of them. What was a name when you had the number memorized?

[I see your car, is it okay for me to come over?]

Ji Junxin, glancing at her parents sitting beside her, typed a reply, saved Mi Hongdou’s number again, and pressed send. After this break, she felt she had finally detached from the role. And she was happy to find that her feelings for Mi Hongdou… were still as strong!

So, it was genuine, not just the influence of the drama, Ji Junxin was both happy and worried.

[My parents are here, not convenient right now.]

Mi Hongdou, who had been about to get out of the car, stopped, her hand still on the cooler. Although Ji Junxin’s reply made sense, she felt a pang of disappointment.

Ji Junxin was also feeling conflicted. She didn’t understand why her parents, who had never supported her acting career and rarely showed any interest in her life, suddenly wanted to attend the premiere. She had been happy initially, after all, she was always sensitive about her relationship with her parents, even now, she still craved their approval.

But now she was in a dilemma. She was afraid that after not seeing Mi Hongdou for so long, she might inadvertently reveal her feelings… if her parents noticed… it would ruin the premiere.

She needed to be more careful, to better control her emotions, before introducing Mi Hongdou to her parents, Ji Junxin thought.

She had considered going over herself, but seeing her parents, so out of place and uncomfortable, she couldn’t bring herself to leave them. It wasn’t like they would never see each other again, she could endure this.

As they waited, more cars arrived, and the time for the premiere drew closer.

They finally met inside the cinema. The actors were all seated together. Mi Hongdou didn’t see Ji Junxin’s parents, they must have gone to the audience seating area. The seats were arranged according to the actors’ roles, and Mi Hongdou and Ji Junxin were separated by Zhang Zijing, which annoyed Mi Hongdou. Qiao Rubai was so unreliable!

Qiao Rubai, who was sneezing nearby, felt wronged… she didn’t have time to micromanage the seating arrangements.

Mi Hongdou had been looking forward to this premiere, but she hadn’t been able to see Ji Junxin beforehand, and now they weren’t even sitting together. Later, when they were called on stage, although they stood together, with so many people watching, and having to answer the host’s questions about filming, they couldn’t chat.

By the end of the Q&A, as the film started, Mi Hongdou could only console herself with the thought that there would be another opportunity after the screening.

The film started. Miao Qianye’s life unfolded before Ji Junxin like a painted scroll.

Watching a film and acting in it were two completely different experiences.

After the month-long break, facing Miao Qianye again, Ji Junxin felt much calmer, just a faint sense of nostalgia for the character she had poured so much emotion into. However, most of her attention was now on Qin Muxue, played by Mi Hongdou.

The person I like, she’s amazing! Whether portraying the Empress’s authority or the young bride’s shyness, her acting was so convincing…

A little too convincing… During the wedding scene, seeing Mi Hongdou in her red dress, smiling shyly at Zhang Zijing, Ji Junxin frowned. Although she knew Mi Hongdou wasn’t interested in Zhang Zijing, seeing them like this on screen still made her unhappy!

She angrily threw a few popcorn kernels into her mouth, then, remembering that this was the premiere, with so many media present, even munching quietly wasn’t appropriate… she reluctantly let the popcorn melt in her mouth, the sweet, milky flavor slightly soothing her annoyance.

She had watched Mi Hongdou film that wedding scene, the repeated NGs, but she hadn’t felt this angry then. Love was truly a strange thing.

On screen, Zhang Zijing and Mi Hongdou, playing the emperor and empress, their early interactions were full of love, which annoyed Ji Junxin, and she had the urge to throw popcorn at Zhang Zijing!

But as the film progressed, from the palace to the estate, whether because of Ji Junxin’s focus on Mi Hongdou or the editing, although the supposed main characters were Ji Junxin and Zhang Zijing, it seemed that she and Mi Hongdou shared the most screen time. Zhang Zijing’s scenes were also plentiful, but his presence felt… bland, forgettable, just a plot device, lacking any real charm.

The estate and battlefield scenes were intercut, with more emphasis on the estate. And although the estate scenes were about their struggles for survival, they were more captivating than the grand battle scenes.

Ji Junxin, watching the young empress caring for the pregnant Miao Qianye, couldn’t take her eyes off the screen.

Hmph, unlike now, not even a single text message in weeks!

Ji Junxin’s inner complaints abruptly stopped during the birthing scene.

On screen… Miao Qianye looked like she was really giving birth. Only Ji Junxin knew what had actually happened! The thought of the entire audience witnessing her reaction, hearing her moans, made her incredibly embarrassed!

She couldn’t bear to watch, her head lowered during the short birthing scene, but the sounds from the screen still made her blush.

Mi Hongdou, you’re so annoying!

Just as Ji Junxin was squirming in her seat, wanting to disappear, her phone vibrated.

She checked it, her embarrassment instantly replaced by a serious expression.

The movie continued, but Ji Junxin, who had been looking forward to the premiere, no longer paid attention. She started typing on her phone, bending over to shield the screen from the people around her.

Chapter 114: Busy, Busy, Busy

In her previous life, “Divorce, So Be It” had taken several episodes to gain a loyal audience, its popularity growing steadily. This time, airing on a popular channel with high viewership, it quickly attracted a large audience and generated buzz on Weibo after just two episodes.

However, Weibo was mainly for young people. “Divorce, So Be It,” with its nostalgic and family-oriented themes, appealed more to middle-aged viewers. Although it generated some discussion on Weibo, it didn’t have the explosive virality of current idol dramas.

Ji Junxin woke up and anxiously browsed Weibo, but she still didn’t repost anything. Mi Hongdou’s official Weibo account, which Mengguan was supposed to create, still hadn’t been set up, even after the drama’s premiere. Ji Junxin figured that Mengguan was also waiting, like her, waiting for the right moment to promote Mi Hongdou.

Thinking this, she vaguely realized that she hadn’t fully detached from Miao Qianye. Her old self wouldn’t have overthought it, she would have just reposted it without considering the timing. In fact, she probably wouldn’t have even thought of promoting the drama…

Ji Junxin didn’t realize that this change… was actually growth.

Previously, after filming ended, she would just spend some time alone, not dwelling on the drama or contacting her co-stars, and she would naturally detach from the role. But this time, even after a month, she could still feel Miao Qianye’s influence, her calculating and cautious nature.

It seemed that the immersion this time was deeper, she needed more time to recover, to truly say goodbye to Miao Qianye.

Usually, after a drama ended, if she didn’t think about it, she would eventually forget. But this time was different. Although she hadn’t contacted Mi Hongdou, she thought of her often, especially during meals, when waking up, and before going to bed… almost all the time. And thinking of Mi Hongdou brought back memories of filming… She figured that was why she couldn’t detach from Miao Qianye.

I can’t… contact her, can’t even think about her, for now! Ji Junxin decided.

Then she picked up her phone and texted Mi Hongdou.

Since I’ve decided not to contact her, I might as well send one last message before I start, she reasoned, having not received a reply to her previous message.

Mi Hongdou, yawning, was in the chauffeured car on her way to Shudian. Yes, after a month and ten days, she was going back!

[What are you doing?] Sender: Ji Junxin.

Mi Hongdou’s heart pounded. Although it was just a five-character message, even shorter than the previous one, it felt much more… normal!

Ji Junxin was lounging in bed, sleeping late, enjoying her time off. Although she loved acting, doing nothing was also great. As she waited for a reply, she figured Mi Hongdou was probably still asleep.

But Mi Hongdou’s reply came quickly.

[On my way to Shudian, “Divorce, So Be It 2” starts filming today.]

Ji Junxin sat up abruptly.

[Weren’t they waiting for the first season to air and generate buzz before starting the second?]

They were… Mi Hongdou yawned, glanced at Yang Lianyi, who was sleeping soundly with an eye mask, and then at Bai Tang, who was dozing off. This sudden change in schedule surprised everyone.

Ji Junxin sat cross-legged in bed, frowning.

[They’re running out of time, it will clash with later projects.]

Ji Junxin wasn’t a professional, she couldn’t judge the best timing for filming. But the point was, Mi Hongdou had left Jiang City, was on her way to Shudian.

So, after a month and ten days in the same city, without even meeting, Mi Hongdou was leaving again!

In “Divorce, So Be It 2,” Mi Hongdou was the female lead, carrying the entire drama, it wouldn’t be as easy as playing a supporting role. This kind of urban drama revolved around the main couple, so Mi Hongdou would probably be even busier than during “Imperial Secrets.” Ji Junxin figured that once she went back, she would be stuck on set, unless something happened.

Leaving for months without even meeting! Mi Hongdou is the worst!

Ji Junxin angrily got up, washed up, and ordered takeout. She had to have sticky rice balls today! And red bean pastries!

By the time she finished eating, Mi Hongdou had already arrived in Shudian. Then she received Ji Junxin’s reply.

[Good luck.]

That period at the end… so frustrating! Couldn’t she have used an exclamation mark?!

Mi Hongdou held her phone, hesitated, sighed, and decided not to reply.

She frowned and went to prepare for the filming.

Ji Junxin, full and satisfied, looked at the empty takeout containers, her mood slightly improved. Takeout, the taste was mediocre, but… at least the portions were large. When she couldn’t have Mi Hongdou’s cooking, quantity was the only comfort.

Why am I thinking about Mi Hongdou again… She shook her head.

Having not received any further replies, Ji Junxin felt it was time for a decision!

She had to detach from the role… she didn’t want to be influenced by Miao Qianye and look at Mi Hongdou with those same eyes when they met again. She was Ji Junxin, not Miao Qianye. And Mi Hongdou… was Mi Hongdou, not the young Empress, not anyone else. They hadn’t shared Miao Qianye and the young Empress’s experiences, their sacrifices, their revenge. All that belonged to the characters. Ji Junxin and Mi Hongdou were friends in real life, although their shared experiences were limited, they had similar values, common interests, a mutual appreciation for each other’s acting, and a shared love for food. Ji Junxin hoped to detach from the role and interact with Mi Hongdou normally, not with such intensity.

Ji Junxin’s hopes were beautiful, as if all her recent eagerness and intensity were solely due to Miao Qianye’s influence.

A brief separation, for a better reunion!

She took out her phone and deleted everything related to Mi Hongdou, including her number.

No contact, no reminiscing, until she returned to normal. Of course, if Mi Hongdou contacted her, even if it was just a number on the screen, she would recognize it!

So.

Mi Hongdou immersed herself in the new drama, her days filled with filming. In her previous life, “Divorce, So Be It 2” had taken about six months to film. This time, they were given three and a half months. Needless to say, it was Qiao Rubai’s doing…

Even having filmed it once before, this accelerated schedule was challenging. Fortunately, the male lead, although a newcomer, was a good actor. He had quickly risen to fame in her previous life, becoming a popular idol. So, despite the tight schedule, the long hours, they were still able to keep up with the filming, thanks to the leads’ dedication.

Ji Junxin hadn’t texted again. Mi Hongdou often found herself typing messages, then deleting them.

I’ll wait… until I’m stronger, more worthy.

People had different values and perspectives. Mi Hongdou, when she first entered the industry, had become a fan of Ji Junxin. She had quickly become a promising newcomer, but she hadn’t tried to approach her idol. She had waited, working hard, building her career, until she felt she was good enough.

Some people were just… sentimental. The more they liked someone, the more they wanted to be worthy of them.

I like you so much, so I have to become a better version of myself, to meet you. I like you so much, so I’m willing to spend years getting closer to you, hoping that when you finally see me, you’ll see my worth, you’ll like me.

That had been Mi Hongdou’s mindset in her previous life. And even after being reborn, her nature hadn’t changed. Although, thanks to Qiao Rubai, she had met Ji Junxin earlier and even gained her favor with her cooking, their time together during “Imperial Secrets” felt like a beautiful dream. Ji Junxin’s sudden departure, without even a proper goodbye, had been a blow, sending her back to her previous life’s waiting game.

While Mi Hongdou focused on her work, Ji Junxin was trying to detach from her role, not even watching “Divorce, So Be It,” just asking Zhong Yin to repost it on Weibo when Mi Hongdou appeared.

Mi Hongdou’s character appeared in episode 42. The day before, Yang Lianyi finally created an official Weibo account for her.

The next day, when Mi Hongdou’s character appeared, Zhong Yin reposted the drama on Ji Junxin’s Weibo, tagging Mi Hongdou.

[Recently discovered a great drama called “Divorce, So Be It,” check it out, everyone. The actress playing the daughter, Lin Qiao, Mi Hongdou, is very talented. Newcomer, fighting! @MiHongdou] Ji Junxin’s Weibo had over thirty million followers, while Mi Hongdou’s was brand new. With Ji Junxin’s repost, Mi Hongdou’s follower count skyrocketed.

Millions of followers in just a few hours.

Ji Junxin rarely used Weibo, mostly for promoting her own projects or Qiong Yu’s productions. This endorsement of a completely unrelated drama was unusual, and her fans were intrigued. Many, curious, clicked on Mi Hongdou’s tag.

And then, their memories were jogged. Wasn’t this the little empress who made fried rice in that trailer Ji Junxin reposted? A good cook always garnered goodwill. And the fans who came from Ji Junxin’s Weibo were mostly loyal fans, it was natural for Mi Hongdou’s follower count to increase.

Mi Hongdou’s Weibo account, created just the day before, had only one post, a generic greeting message. Now, the comments were flooding in.

Most were from Ji Junxin’s fans, some remembering the fried rice and asking for recipes, others asking if she and Ji Junxin were friends, and why Ji Junxin had reposted her post.

Many hadn’t even seen “Divorce, So Be It,” they were just there because of Ji Junxin.

Yang Lianyi called and told Mi Hongdou to “hug Ji Junxin’s thigh,” or rather, to respond to Ji Junxin.

Mi Hongdou looked at Ji Junxin’s Weibo post. The tone was formal, a generic endorsement of the drama and Mi Hongdou, without any personal touch. It didn’t seem like something Ji Junxin would write, more like a standard company post, similar to her previous promotional posts.

But she still had to respond. Mi Hongdou reposted Ji Junxin’s Weibo and replied formally.

[Thank you for the praise, I’ll continue to work hard!]

She added a smiling emoticon at the end. Still very formal. She pressed send.

Although Ji Junxin had decided to give herself time and space to detach, even deleting Mi Hongdou’s number, one couldn’t completely control their thoughts. She was just… trying her best.

She had told herself not to watch “Divorce, So Be It,” even asking Zhong Yin to repost it on Weibo for her. But when Zhong Yin called to inform her that the post was up, Ji Junxin couldn’t resist watching the drama.

Having watched the drama, checking Weibo… was also fine. Ji Junxin, thinking that one bite was as good as a feast, opened Weibo, saw Mi Hongdou’s new account… why hadn’t Zhong Yin or Mi Hongdou told her!

She didn’t read the comments on her own post, but clicked on Mi Hongdou’s tag.

And saw Mi Hongdou’s formal reply: [Thank you for the praise, I’ll continue to work hard!] Hmph! So formal! Not even a text message! I’m not playing with you anymore! Ji Junxin closed Weibo and started browsing takeout menus. She would order five or six bowls of red bean soup! It was early July, she wanted it iced, iced, iced! She would write it three times in the special instructions!

Yes, it was early July, “Imperial Secrets” had wrapped two months ago, and “Divorce, So Be It 2” had been filming for over half a month.

At Qiong Yu’s request, “Imperial Secrets” had been edited during filming. Although Director Pan hadn’t understood Qiao Rubai’s rush, he had cooperated. Since he filmed chronologically, it wasn’t difficult for the editing to keep up.

By the time “Imperial Secrets” wrapped, most of the post-production for the estate scenes was already done.

In early July, Mi Hongdou’s character in “Divorce, So Be It,” after just four episodes, was receiving positive reviews. And with the drama’s increasing popularity, her Weibo follower count also increased rapidly. And just then, the post-production for “Imperial Secrets” was completed, and they began the promotional campaign.

It wasn’t until post-production was completely finished that Director Pan realized Qiao Rubai had been aiming for a summer release. He was stunned, just over a month for review and promotion, Qiao Rubai was really pushing it.

And Qiao Rubai not only dared to think it, she also dared to do it.

“Imperial Secrets” was scheduled for release at the end of August, catching the tail end of summer, perhaps even extending into October.

With “Divorce, So Be It” airing, “Divorce, So Be It 2” filming, and the upcoming release of “Imperial Secrets,” along with the promotional campaign, Mi Hongdou, like a rising star, appeared on TV, in entertainment news, on Weibo, on posters… although the focus of these projects, except for the currently filming “Divorce, So Be It 2,” wasn’t on promoting her, she still garnered considerable attention.

So, Mi Hongdou’s life was now defined by one word: “busy!” Busy filming, busy with interviews, busy dealing with jealous colleagues. Fortunately, Mengguan prioritized filming, only accepting essential interviews, otherwise, Mi Hongdou would have collapsed from exhaustion.

The film industry wasn’t as over-the-top as it would be ten years later, with months of pre-release hype, endless appearances on entertainment news, TV shows, variety shows, press conferences everywhere… Mi Hongdou had initially thought Qiao Rubai would bring the future’s marketing tactics to the present and launch an explosive promotional campaign for “Imperial Secrets.” She had been prepared to sacrifice sleep and work around the clock.

But… that didn’t happen.

In early July, after post-production, they started a low-key promotional campaign for “Imperial Secrets.” In late July, after passing the review process, the campaign intensified, but it was still just trailers, posters, TV commercials, and magazine features. There were no press conferences. Mi Hongdou waited and waited, then couldn’t help but ask Yang Lianyi.

Yang Lianyi told her to focus on filming and not worry about such trivial matters. Press conferences everywhere, how tiring and pointless, we’re not doing that! Mi Hongdou was speechless… she couldn’t tell her that’s exactly how it would be done ten years later.

Not having to travel for promotions was a relief for Mi Hongdou, who was already sleep-deprived from filming. But… she wasn’t entirely happy. Firstly, she wouldn’t have a legitimate reason to see Ji Junxin. And secondly, Qiao Rubai had been avoiding her questions about the past, she also wanted to see Qiao Rubai!

Unfortunately, having missed her earlier opportunities, Mi Hongdou was now trapped on set, unable to leave.

Perhaps heaven heard her prayers. In mid-August, she finally had a chance to see both Ji Junxin and Qiao Rubai.

Because… “Imperial Secrets” was premiering.

Mi Hongdou hadn’t expected Qiao Rubai, with her future knowledge, to limit the promotional appearances to just the premiere.

But it didn’t matter. After months of being stuck in Shudian, Mi Hongdou finally had a day off and returned to Jiang City.

Since their Weibo exchange in early July, Mi Hongdou had only texted Ji Junxin twice. Both times, she initiated the conversation. Once, about Jiang Lingling’s increasingly successful restaurant, but Ji Junxin’s replies were unenthusiastic, so she stopped. The other time, about food, she had gone to a restaurant Ji Junxin liked and texted her about it, but… Ji Junxin’s replies were also lukewarm, so she dropped the topic.

It seemed that if Ji Junxin didn’t even want to talk about food, then… there was nothing left to talk about.

The two failed attempts made Mi Hongdou apprehensive about the upcoming premiere.

Apprehensive, yet also expectant…

Chapter 113: Parting Ways p2

Watching Mi Hongdou’s performance, Ji Junxin had felt herself being drawn in, becoming Miao Qianye, desperately rushing to the palace, wanting to answer the young empress’s silent plea, to see her one last time, even though it was too late…

She had sensed it, that pull, and she had wanted to resist. But then she remembered Qiao Rubai’s visit and Mi Hongdou’s tears, her refusal to speak.

Of course, friends didn’t have to share everything, she herself hadn’t told Mi Hongdou about her feelings. But she still felt a little hurt. Especially seeing the young empress, sacrificing herself for Miao Qianye and her child, her longing gaze towards the door, as if hoping to see Miao Qianye one last time…

At that moment, Ji Junxin felt that perhaps… the young empress needed her… more than Mi Hongdou did.

This brief hesitation, this wavering, allowed her to be pulled into the scene by Mi Hongdou’s powerful performance.

It wasn’t Ji Junxin who rushed to the palace, it wasn’t Ji Junxin who confronted Consort Zhu, it wasn’t even Ji Junxin who revisited the estate in her old age.

From that moment on, she was Miao Qianye, living her life, feeling her emotions.

The desperate urge to see the young empress, the anger and grief at her suicide, the burning desire for revenge… and then, the weary emptiness after the revenge.

Even after Director Pan announced the wrap-up, Ji Junxin couldn’t fully detach from Miao Qianye.

Of course, this “difficulty in detaching” didn’t mean she still thought she was Miao Qianye, living in ancient times. That would be… insanity.

It simply meant that after filming ended, the actor’s thoughts, personality, and emotions were still influenced by the character. For example, playing a crying character might make you more emotional. Playing a violent character might make you more irritable. Playing a suicidal, depressed character might make you more pessimistic. Or, having played a lover on screen, you might develop feelings for your co-star in real life. Having played enemies, you might develop a dislike for your co-star.

Ji Junxin was prone to this kind of deep immersion. So, after Qiao Rubai realized it, she rarely let her take on negative roles. But to develop her career, she couldn’t always play innocent, sweet characters. Qiao Rubai had chosen the script for “Imperial Secrets” carefully. In her opinion, the most emotionally challenging scene, the one most likely to cause deep immersion for Ji Junxin, was Miao Qianye’s arrival at the Empress’s palace, too late. That was why she had rushed over, to make sure Ji Junxin was okay.

But… Ji Junxin had still become Miao Qianye.

She had already sensed it the previous afternoon. Her desire to poison Jiang Duo had been too intense… it wasn’t normal. Having experienced deep immersion before, she knew she needed to detach.

But she couldn’t. She had to finish filming.

So, she did.

Filming wrapped.

Facing Mi Hongdou again, Ji Junxin couldn’t quite decipher her feelings. Was it because of the shared hardship between Miao Qianye and the young empress in the drama? Or because of their time together day and night? No… the daytime was also acting…

Unable to detach, Ji Junxin was confused.

She needed time, space. She wanted to escape, yet she also longed… for closeness, a desperate desire to be with Mi Hongdou.

Torn, she had decided to leave early the next morning, to spill the cola on her bed…

How to explain packing her luggage? How to avoid suspicion from Mi Hongdou? Should she be soft and apologetic, or cold and distant?… Ji Junxin meticulously planned her actions.

This calculated approach wasn’t her usual self. It was more like Miao Qianye.

But it didn’t matter, as long as it worked.

There were some minor hiccups, like Director Pan’s wrap-up dinner, which disrupted her plan. But she figured that skipping the wrap-up dinner wouldn’t be a big deal, it would just make her seem a bit aloof. But Mi Hongdou, a newcomer, practically a lead actress, not attending would be rude. So, although annoyed, Ji Junxin had still gone with Mi Hongdou.

After the dinner, she had brought back a can of cola, and while Mi Hongdou was showering, she calmly shook it and sprayed it on her bed, adding more in the middle for good measure.

Her calm, calculated actions and her slightly suggestive words weren’t like her usual self.

Normally, she would have been too embarrassed. Now, her face and mind clear, she had even manipulated Mi Hongdou into sharing her bed.

In the darkness, Ji Junxin waited.

She turned over, a test. Then turned over again, another test.

Touching Mi Hongdou’s body brought back the image of the naked Mi Hongdou in the bathroom. She placed her arm over Mi Hongdou, feeling… something soft beneath it. And then… a small, hardening bud pressing against her inner arm. Leaving this short-sleeved nightgown out was the right decision… Ji Junxin’s mouth felt dry.

And as she turned over, Mi Hongdou’s arm had also landed on… her chest. Ji Junxin’s arm placement had been calculated, Mi Hongdou’s was purely coincidental.

They were now very close. Ji Junxin, smelling Mi Hongdou’s scent, felt her heart race. She bit her lip, savoring the subtle change beneath her arm, resisting the urge to move closer, to elicit a stronger reaction. And a slight frustration, if only Mi Hongdou’s arm was also on her chest… she thought, a little embarrassed, but also wanting more, both giving and receiving.

But she didn’t dare to move. Mi Hongdou should be asleep by now… but… who knew…

Ji Junxin’s caution was justified. After a long while, just as she was about to move, Mi Hongdou moved first.

Ji Junxin’s arm was gently removed, and Mi Hongdou shifted away. Ji Junxin lay still.

Feeling the slight movement, Ji Junxin, her face half-buried in the blanket, smiled wryly, the heat in her body subsiding.

See, it’s always like this, I’m filled with inappropriate thoughts, burning with desire, while she… just sees me as a friend. A troublesome friend who’s taking up half her bed…

Ji Junxin’s eyes stung, but she fought back tears.

I can’t cry… Mi Hongdou is still awake… she’ll know.

I know she doesn’t like me, yet I still cling to hope, testing her, hoping her feelings have changed. But it’s just… wishful thinking…

Ji Junxin, lost in her thoughts, didn’t sleep that night.

More accurately, after Mi Hongdou finally succumbed to exhaustion, Ji Junxin, after a long while, carefully moved closer, snuggling against Mi Hongdou’s back, savoring her warmth.

She had decided the day before to leave early. She didn’t know how to face their separation, didn’t know what she might say or do in her emotionally compromised state.

She couldn’t handle a proper goodbye.

So, the sleepless Ji Junxin, quietly got ready to leave. But looking at the sleeping Mi Hongdou, she felt a twinge of resentment.

I like you, you don’t like me, it’s my fault… but I’m still… angry…

She pulled back her half-exposed body, burrowed under the covers, then slowly emerged.

Her clothes were in the living room, her toiletries in her travel bag. She quickly changed, left a note she had written while Mi Hongdou was showering, and was about to leave.

At the door, she turned back, opened the refrigerator, took out the rice cooker pot, and then truly left.

The pot was cold, but Ji Junxin held it, seemingly oblivious to the temperature.

In the car, Zhong Yin, the dutiful assistant, offered to carry it, but Ji Junxin refused. Zhong Yin then found some magazines and placed them on Ji Junxin’s lap, so the cold metal wouldn’t freeze her legs.

Her employer was acting strangely, Zhong Yin could tell. But she understood, Qiao Rubai had warned her that Ji Junxin often became emotionally unstable after filming intense scenes. Well… perhaps some people just like holding rice cooker pots when they’re feeling down, Zhong Yin thought.

When they stopped at a supermarket, Zhong Yin not only bought plastic wrap but also a small plastic container, just the right size for the wrapped pot, and placed it on the empty seat next to Ji Junxin.

Now I don’t have to worry about her legs freezing! Zhong Yin thought happily, not realizing how strange her thought was.

The drive back to Jiang City was long and boring. With the rice cooker pot now in the container, Ji Junxin’s hands were free, and she kept fiddling with her phone, turning it on, then letting it go dark, then turning it on again.

Zhong Yin, watching her, really wanted to ask, Are you waiting for a message or a call? If they came, your phone would light up, really! Stop pressing it… you’ll break it.

But she didn’t ask.

And Ji Junxin didn’t receive any messages or calls from Mi Hongdou.

She had no idea that Mi Hongdou, waking up late, was sitting dejectedly on the sofa, blaming herself, wondering what she had done wrong, why Ji Junxin had left without even saying goodbye, as if escaping.

And Ji Junxin wouldn’t have guessed that Mi Hongdou’s conclusion was that she had to respect Ji Junxin’s decision, that if she chose to leave, she shouldn’t impose.

I have to… become stronger… Mi Hongdou’s pride made her think this.

And so, a month of silence passed.

Neither contacted the other.

Ji Junxin stayed home, reading, watching movies, ordering takeout, occasionally talking to her parents and lying about her busy schedule. Qiao Rubai was also busy, and having grown accustomed to Ji Junxin needing time alone after filming, she only called a few times. Seeing that Ji Junxin seemed fine, she didn’t press further.

As the days passed, Ji Junxin gradually detached from Miao Qianye, her memories of filming fading, just like after her previous projects, a renewed sense of hope returning.

Of course, there were still annoyances. The most prominent one being Mi Hongdou’s silence, not a single text message or phone call in an entire month. Ji Junxin had often wondered if her phone was broken, but calls and messages to Qiao Rubai and Zhong Yin worked perfectly fine. She had thought that perhaps Mi Hongdou was angry because she hadn’t said goodbye properly… but then, that seemed petty, she had left a note! Friends shouldn’t be so petty! If you’re going to be petty, then be lovers! Of course, these were just her inner thoughts.

If I contact her first, I lose! Ji Junxin thought, sulking every day during this month of detachment.

Compared to Mi Hongdou’s silence, the terrible takeout, her parents’ insistence on the blind date, those were minor annoyances.

Mi Hongdou, of course, wasn’t silent because of some “whoever contacts first loses” game. She was… hurt by Ji Junxin’s departure. She felt that contacting Ji Junxin would only make her dislike her even more…

It was remarkable that they could maintain this silence for a month because of such strange reasons.

A month and ten days after “Imperial Secrets” wrapped, “Divorce, So Be It” premiered.

Perhaps thanks to Qiao Rubai’s influence, the drama, which had aired on a regular channel in Mi Hongdou’s previous life, was now premiering on a popular channel with high viewership ratings.

And in her previous life, because of its relatable themes of childhood sweethearts, marital struggles, family drama, and mid-life crises, “Divorce, So Be It” had been a hit, and the second season was confirmed halfway through its broadcast. In this life, the sequel was already in the works, the script finished, filming about to begin.

They were probably waiting for the first season to air before starting filming for the sequel, to capitalize on the hype.

On the day of the premiere, Mi Hongdou finally found the courage to text Ji Junxin.

So, as the opening theme of “Divorce, So Be It” played on TV, Ji Junxin’s phone, while she was eating tangyuan, buzzed.

[The drama I filmed earlier, “Divorce, So Be It,” premieres today.] Sender: Mi Hongdou.

Ji Junxin, watching the TV, not wanting to miss Mi Hongdou’s appearance in the opening credits, counted the characters in the message.

Eighteen characters, including punctuation.

After a month and ten days of waiting, just eighteen characters!

Ji Junxin wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not.

She finished her tangyuan and replied curtly.

[Looking forward to your performance.] Sender: Ji Junxin.

Mi Hongdou, looking at the six characters and the period, not even an exclamation mark, wasn’t sure whether to feel warm or cold.

Honestly, although a family drama, it was quite appealing to Ji Junxin. Perhaps because of her own distant family, she enjoyed seeing how other families interacted.

If only Mi Hongdou appeared earlier…

“Divorce, So Be It” had sixty episodes. Ji Junxin had calculated that Mi Hongdou wouldn’t appear until around episode forty. She felt a little disappointed, but there was no helping it, Mi Hongdou wasn’t the lead, just the protagonist’s daughter. The protagonist hadn’t even started her romantic relationship yet, how could her daughter appear?

During a commercial break, Ji Junxin opened Weibo, wanting to promote the drama, but remembering the earlier negative press about Mi Hongdou, she decided against it. She would wait until Mi Hongdou appeared and impressed everyone with her acting, then she would promote it. She didn’t want to inadvertently attract more negative attention.

Ji Junxin, who used to leave all matters outside of acting to Qiao Rubai and Lu Gaoshi, after the incident with Mi Hongdou, was now learning to be more cautious.

As she watched the drama, she thought that when Mi Hongdou filmed “Divorce, So Be It 2,” she would finally be able to watch her throughout, not having to wait twenty days for her to appear… well, although the current plot was also good, she still wanted to see Mi Hongdou’s scenes.

She watched the first two episodes, but there was no reply from Mi Hongdou…

She felt a sense of… speechless frustration…

After calming down, Ji Junxin had to admit, the drama was good, it would probably be a hit, as Qiao Rubai would say. The story was good, the acting was good, but she still preferred the brief glimpses of Mi Hongdou in the opening credits.

It must be because the later plot is more interesting, she thought, definitely not because of that person who didn’t reply to her message!

Ji Junxin angrily finished two boxes of sushi.

Chapter 113: Parting Ways p1

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Ji Junxin’s voice was calm and soft, yet firm in the quiet room.

Absolutely not! A twin bed is too small for two people, and if Ji Junxin sleeps next to me, how can I possibly sleep! I wouldn’t even know where to put my hands and feet! Mi Hongdou’s first reaction, after confirming she hadn’t misheard, was to refuse.

However, before she could utter the words, she met Ji Junxin’s clear, calm gaze. Mi Hongdou suddenly remembered Ji Junxin’s earlier indifference, her lack of any sadness at their impending separation. Her own hopes of continuing their close friendship after the film seemed like a mere fantasy.

Perhaps… there won’t be another opportunity to be this close to her…

The resolute refusal softened as she spoke, her voice hesitant. “But… the bed is too narrow…”

Her intended rejection sounded more like an invitation. Mi Hongdou, hearing her own weak response, was about to say more when Ji Junxin interrupted smoothly, “It’s okay, we’re both slim, there’s enough space. But if you don’t want to sleep with me, I’ll find another solution.”

Ji Junxin’s tone was casual, as if she didn’t mind either way. As she spoke, she glanced at the alarm clock by the bed, as if calculating the time, as if she would really find another solution if Mi Hongdou refused.

Mi Hongdou followed her gaze and saw that it was almost eleven o’clock.

Even if it were eleven in the morning, she couldn’t reject Ji Junxin and make her sleep on the floor!

Seeing Mi Hongdou’s hesitation, Ji Junxin smiled sadly. “It was inconsiderate of me to ask, you sleep.” She slowly stood up.

“No, no, no…” Mi Hongdou knew that if she didn’t say anything, she would be blamed for rejecting Ji Junxin.

Choosing the lesser of two evils. She couldn’t worry about how awkward and uncomfortable sharing a bed would be, she wouldn’t take the blame!

“Let’s sleep together, together…” Seeing Ji Junxin stand up, Mi Hongdou quickly pressed her back down onto the bed.

The contact, the warmth of Ji Junxin’s body against her palm, her racing heart, made Mi Hongdou instantly regret her decision… should she… just let Ji Junxin sleep on the floor?

But before she could change her mind, Ji Junxin kicked off her slippers and got into Mi Hongdou’s bed.

“Come on, let’s sleep early, we have an early call time tomorrow,” Ji Junxin said, peeking out from under the covers, her tone casual and inviting, without a hint of embarrassment, as if she was the one who had spilled cola on her bed and needed a place to sleep.

Mi Hongdou felt incredibly awkward.

She hesitated, then walked towards Ji Junxin’s bed. The spilled cola… the sheets, the blanket, the pillow… all ruined. Her hope of separating the beds was dashed by the large cola stain on Ji Junxin’s bed. She silently bundled up Ji Junxin’s bedding, then turned to her own bed.

Just as she lifted the covers, before she could even get in, Ji Junxin rolled over.

“I drank too much water tonight, you take the inside,” Ji Junxin said casually, patting the side of the bed near the wall.

Mi Hongdou’s bed was next to the wardrobe. Although they could get in from either side, the side near the wardrobe was a bit narrow, they usually got in from the other side, between the two beds. The spot Ji Junxin patted was the narrow side.

You drank too much water, and you also drank cola! Mi Hongdou thought, putting down the covers and preparing to get in from the other side.

“Hey, it’s too narrow there, you might bump into the wardrobe, come over here,” Ji Junxin said, sitting up cross-legged, making space for Mi Hongdou.

Her bare legs exposed under her nightgown… Mi Hongdou, thinking that the usually food-obsessed Ji Junxin was being strangely considerate today, climbed into bed, slightly dazed. As she passed Ji Junxin, she caught her scent, and her face flushed. I’m definitely not sleeping tonight.

Before Ji Junxin turned off the lights, Mi Hongdou lay stiffly on her side, facing the wardrobe, her body a straight line, minimizing her contact area.

As Ji Junxin turned off the lights, got into bed, and pulled up the covers, Mi Hongdou tensed even more.

Ji Junxin’s movements were light, and she seemed to be lying on the edge of the bed. Mi Hongdou could feel the weight of the blanket on her back, warm and comforting. There was a gap between them… she was relieved. She was afraid of touching Ji Junxin and having… those feelings again… and then Ji Junxin would notice, and their friendship would be over.

In the darkness, Mi Hongdou listened intently, but there was no sound from the other bed.

She waited, her anxiety gradually giving way to exhaustion. After a long day of filming, and all the emotional turmoil, she was tired. The side of her body that had been pressed against the bed was numb. Ji Junxin should be asleep by now… Mi Hongdou carefully turned onto her back.

Lying flat on her back took up more space. She could almost feel Ji Junxin’s warmth beside her. She hoped it was just her imagination.

She carefully moved her numb limbs, then didn’t dare to move again, afraid of waking Ji Junxin.

Thinking that Ji Junxin was asleep, Mi Hongdou relaxed, her tense muscles loosening, and sleepiness washed over her.

At first, she resisted, but eventually, she surrendered.

So, their last night together passed. No heartfelt conversations, no awkwardness from sharing a bed. It was a peaceful night, even more so than their previous nights together.

Was it a pity? Yes. Was she relieved? Also yes. And a lingering sense of… regret.

Why so sleepy? Why couldn’t I stay awake longer, to savor this last night?

Mi Hongdou thought, her breathing even, drifting off to sleep.

Just then, Ji Junxin suddenly turned over, and Mi Hongdou’s eyes snapped open!

Although she didn’t know which way Ji Junxin had been facing earlier, she was now facing her, Mi Hongdou was certain. She could feel Ji Junxin’s breath on her neck.

So, how close was Ji Junxin!

Mi Hongdou’s sleepiness vanished. She held her breath and carefully tensed her muscles, preparing to move away, to create some distance between them. At least… at least to escape that warm breath on her neck, tickling her, making her ear burn!

But before she could move, Ji Junxin turned over again.

So, what was Ji Junxin’s sleeping position now?

Mi Hongdou knew the answer. Ji Junxin was now practically lying on top of her, half her body pressing against hers.

If Ji Junxin’s breath earlier had made her nervous, then now, with Ji Junxin’s forehead against her cheek, her warm breath on her neck, half her body pressed against hers, Mi Hongdou felt like she was about to explode!

Do you have to toss and turn so much in your sleep?!

Ji Junxin’s warm forehead against her cheek, her hot breath on her neck, her left arm trapped between their bodies, Mi Hongdou didn’t even dare to think about what it was trapped against!

And what about the arm across her chest, lying on top of her! Well, it was Ji Junxin’s arm, and she was asleep, it was okay, the real problem was her own trapped arm!

Ji Junxin’s weight on her was like a thunderbolt, all her sleepiness gone, replaced by a burning sensation. Her heart pounded, her body stiff, her head buzzing, she felt like her nose was about to bleed.

But she didn’t panic, she focused on controlling her breathing.

If I breathe evenly, she’ll stay asleep and won’t notice anything, Mi Hongdou thought, trying to ignore the sensations from her left arm.

What left arm? I don’t have a left arm!

The mental suggestion worked, or perhaps it was the darkness that offered cover. Mi Hongdou lay perfectly still, her breathing even, her heart gradually calming down.

She lay there like a plank, not daring to move, but the position was unbearable. After a while, seeing that Ji Junxin was still sound asleep, she carefully lifted Ji Junxin’s arm, put it back in its place, and then slowly, inch by inch, moved towards the edge of the bed, until there was no longer any contact between them, half her body hanging off the bed.

She was now a straight line again, lying on her side.

The heat in her body was still there, but exhaustion finally won, and Mi Hongdou, yawning softly, fell asleep, stiff as a board.

After a long while, in the darkness, Ji Junxin, lying on her stomach, slowly opened her eyes.

If the lights were on, and Mi Hongdou were awake, she would have been surprised by Ji Junxin’s clear, alert gaze.

Ji Junxin wasn’t asleep, she wasn’t even sleepy.

Unlike Mi Hongdou, whose mind was filled with thoughts of don’t touch her, don’t let her suspect anything, staying by her side is the priority, Ji Junxin tonight was like a patient hunter.

Waiting in the darkness for her prey to fall asleep, and then…

When Mi Hongdou woke up, the room was still dark. She fumbled for her phone, checked the time, and it was 9:30 AM.

She was momentarily confused, then remembered, “Imperial Secrets” had wrapped yesterday, no filming today.

So dark at 9:30, these blackout curtains are amazing, she thought, snuggling in bed and yawning. Ji Junxin must be tired, still sleeping at this hour? Then she suddenly realized something.

She had shared her bed with Ji Junxin last night! Why was she alone now! Had she kicked Ji Junxin off the bed in her sleep?

Mi Hongdou quickly sat up, turned on the bedside lamp, her eyes stinging from the sudden brightness, and looked down at the floor between the two beds.

No one.

She checked the floor by the wardrobe.

No one…

She rubbed her eyes, then looked at Ji Junxin’s neatly made bed. Had she slept in too late, and Ji Junxin had already left?

She felt a pang of anxiety, a sense of foreboding.

After a quick search of the suite, not finding Ji Junxin, only a small envelope on the coffee table, her anxiety turned into dread.

Why a note, she has a phone… Mi Hongdou thought, trying to mask her panic. But her trembling hands, as she clumsily tore open the envelope, betrayed her.

Inside, a single line: [I have some urgent work at the company, I’ve gone back to Jiang City. Ji Junxin] Mi Hongdou read it, checked the empty envelope, even turning it inside out to make sure there was no other message, then reread the note several times.

When you liked someone, you tended to overanalyze their every word. But Ji Junxin’s note was so simple, there was nothing more to decipher.

Mi Hongdou, who had woken up to a shock, stood there for a long time, then sank onto the sofa, defeated.

Waking up to find Ji Junxin gone, and then a note, she had initially thought it was a goodbye letter, ending their friendship.

The note’s content, however, was better than her initial fear.

But after the relief came a deep sense of loss…

She… just left.

In the empty room, Mi Hongdou clutched the note, feeling lost and helpless.

Meanwhile, Ji Junxin, holding a rice cooker pot, sat in the chauffeured car heading back to Jiang City, staring out the window.

Zhong Yin, sitting next to her, also looked out the window, then asked softly, “Miss Ji, it’s past nine, the shops are open, should we stop at a supermarket later, and…” she glanced at the rice cooker pot in Ji Junxin’s arms, “…I can buy some plastic wrap?”

Ji Junxin nodded silently.

Zhong Yin told the driver to look for a supermarket.

Zhong Yin was also a little confused. Ji Junxin had told her last night that they might be returning to Jiang City early today, to be prepared, yes.

But when she was woken up by a knock before seven, and opened the door to find Ji Junxin standing there with a small travel bag and a rice cooker pot, she was shocked.

Zhong Yin let Ji Junxin in and, unable to contain her curiosity, peeked inside the pot. Seeing the white porridge, she thought she must be dreaming…

A famous actress, returning home after filming, not with local specialties, but with a pot of porridge, in a rice cooker pot… Those who knew her would understand she was going home, those who didn’t would think she was fleeing a disaster! Zhong Yin began to understand why President Qiao had repeatedly emphasized the importance of taking care of Ji Junxin… she was… a bit strange… adorably clueless?

As Zhong Yin efficiently called the driver and got herself ready in five minutes, Ji Junxin said she wanted to wrap the porridge and take it with her.

Why take a pot of porridge? A seemingly simple question with probably a complex answer. The professional Zhong Yin didn’t ask. But… she didn’t have any plastic wrap.

Ji Junxin thought of the plastic wrap in the suite, but having left a note and snuck out, she didn’t dare to go back.

So, they would have to buy some on the way.

Zhong Yin had just graduated from university with a degree in Human Resources. Perhaps because of her plump figure, her job search had been difficult. Months after graduation, countless interviews, all ending with “we’ll let you know,” and then nothing. She knew that appearances mattered, especially in HR, a people-facing role. She understood, had even tried to lose weight, but couldn’t stick to it… unable to find a job in HR, she had been considering settling for a clerical or administrative position. Then Qiao Rubai had contacted her, offering a generous salary to be an assistant to a famous actress. It was a godsend!

But the entertainment industry was even more superficial than the corporate world. Zhong Yin, although grateful for the opportunity, had doubted herself. I’m too round for this industry. But Qiao Rubai had reassured her, saying that she wasn’t an actress, her weight didn’t matter, even praising her. So, Zhong Yin, determined to repay Qiao Rubai’s kindness, became Ji Junxin’s assistant, vowing to be excellent and not disappoint her!

A good assistant had to be discreet.

So, although she really wanted to ask why Ji Junxin was carrying a rice cooker pot without the rice cooker itself, she held back. A good assistant didn’t ask too many questions! Zhong Yin reminded herself, but she felt that working with Ji Junxin, she would eventually lose her professionalism. No, no, no! She had to maintain her professionalism! She had to be a good assistant!

Ji Junxin, lost in her own thoughts, was oblivious to her assistant’s internal struggles.

It wasn’t just today, she had been struggling with immersion for a while now. Yesterday’s filming had only made it worse.

She had gradually become affected by the character of Miao Qianye. The influence was subtle at first, and she hadn’t paid much attention. But during the pregnancy scenes, knowing that she was prone to deep immersion, she had still indulged in it, enjoying the feeling of being cared for by Mi Hongdou, even resenting the harsh reality of filming. Her state of mind then had been quite bad, but then Mi Hongdou had agreed to support her “pregnancy” act in real life, making reality less unpleasant, and her immersion less intense. Ji Junxin had thought she had overcome it.

But detaching from a role was always difficult for her. Even though the worst of it had passed thanks to Mi Hongdou’s support, the influence lingered.

The bond between Miao Qianye and the young Empress in the drama, and the friendship between Ji Junxin and Mi Hongdou in real life, their development and emotional nuances so similar, Ji Junxin had unconsciously become… Miao Qianye.

Until Mi Hongdou’s suicide scene the day before.

Mi Hongdou was talented, a skilled actress who could easily immerse herself and detach, Ji Junxin knew this after months of working with her. But she hadn’t realized that Mi Hongdou’s acting could also pull her into the scene.

Chapter 112: Packing Up

Director Pan was meticulous, believing that filming should follow the script’s timeline for the actors to fully embody their roles. He disliked rearranging scenes due to scheduling or location constraints.

Because of this, the scene of the elderly Empress Dowager revisiting the estate was saved for the very end of filming, not filmed two months prior when they were at the estate location.

From beginning to end, just like a person’s life, starting with innocence, experiencing both prosperity and hardship, time leaving its mark, becoming a witness to the passage of time.

Compared to the earlier scenes, this scene was quiet and peaceful, even serene. But after the previous emotionally charged scenes, this serenity felt heavy.

This is the feeling I want, Director Pan thought.

But as Ji Junxin, dressed in dark clothing, her hair graying, slowly walked through the scene, a deep sense of weariness and the weight of years emanated from the screen, beyond the initial heaviness and sadness.

According to the script, Ji Junxin just had to walk through the estate, revisit the courtyard where Miao Qianye and the young Empress had lived, and touch a few familiar objects. It was a long scene, but only a few shots would be used in the final film. Ji Junxin followed the script, walking slowly, touching objects gently. This silent performance created a sense of oppressive stillness on set.

And when Ji Junxin, after wandering through the house, finally sat down on the steps, leaning against the door frame, her eyes slowly closing as she faced the setting sun, Director Pan felt… a sense of finality.

The script doesn’t say Miao Qianye dies here! Well, she was just sitting, she hadn’t collapsed… but it felt… like a peaceful passing. He wanted to comment, but this scene, capturing Ji Junxin’s serene expression, would be a perfect ending…

A perfect ending.

As a director, Director Pan had a keen eye for visuals. He knew that the spot where Ji Junxin sat was almost exactly where the young Empress used to sit, holding the baby. The original ending included a flashback to that time, and now… this unintentional mirroring was perfect. Well, perhaps not unintentional.

These actors, they’re practically directing themselves.

The setting sun bathed Ji Junxin’s silver hair in a warm, orange glow, a comforting warmth.

This was the final shot of “Imperial Secrets.”

Months of filming, from autumn to spring, this moment, when Director Pan called “cut” and announced that filming had wrapped, should have been filled with joy and excitement.

But it wasn’t.

The day’s scenes had been too emotionally charged, too heavy. Even the crew was still feeling the weight of the story.

Only after packing up the equipment and chatting with each other did they finally feel a sense of closure, the atmosphere on set shifting from quiet solemnity to lively chatter.

Ji Junxin, who had been basking in the setting sun with her eyes closed, finally opened them.

Her expression was serene, almost melancholic, her gaze distant, as if oblivious to the people around her.

Until a hand shielded her eyes from the sun.

“Looking directly at the sun will hurt your eyes.”

Ji Junxin heard Mi Hongdou’s familiar voice. She didn’t move, and neither did Mi Hongdou’s hand.

They hadn’t brought much equipment for this one scene at the estate, and now, with the crew and equipment gone, the set was quiet again.

After a while, when almost everyone had left, Ji Junxin turned to Mi Hongdou and asked, her head tilted slightly upwards, “Can we have plain porridge and boiled eggs for dinner?”

Her earlier solemnity and weariness seemed to have vanished with the departing crew. Now, with her silver hair and her earnest request for food, she looked… strangely cute.

I hope that when she’s old, I can still be by her side, making her whatever she wants to eat, Mi Hongdou thought, her eyes softening. She couldn’t refuse. Although she had been thinking about celebrating the wrap-up with a feast at Jiang Lingling’s restaurant, Ji Junxin’s wishes were more important.

So, Jiang Lingling, who had called Mi Hongdou excitedly, hoping for a celebratory dinner… was a step too late.

After being gently rejected by Mi Hongdou, Jiang Lingling was dejected. She had stayed in Shudian for three days, without any scenes of her own, just for this celebratory meal! And now… what was the point?

No matter how gently Mi Hongdou phrased it, to Jiang Lingling, it was a devastating blow! Cold and heartless!

The filming was over, but Jiang Lingling was incredibly unhappy.

And… so was Mi Hongdou.

The end of filming meant the end of “Imperial Secrets,” the end of their shared life. Even if they had the opportunity to work together again… they wouldn’t be living together anymore. Mi Hongdou felt a deep sense of sadness at their impending separation, a growing anxiety about the future of their friendship.

The future seemed bleak, all she could do now was cherish this last night together.

Mi Hongdou thought that even if Ji Junxin didn’t share her intense feelings, she would at least feel some sadness at their parting. But when they arrived at the hotel, and Ji Junxin asked Zhong Yin to help them pack, Mi Hongdou was stunned.

It was their last night at the hotel, they were leaving tomorrow. They had accumulated quite a bit of stuff after months of living there, starting to pack early was reasonable… but seeing Ji Junxin so casually ask Zhong Yin to pack, Mi Hongdou felt a pang of sadness. I want to freeze time, but she’s eager to leave…

But since Ji Junxin had asked, Mi Hongdou couldn’t object. She had to hide her own emotions and appear just as casual!

Her carefully constructed facade crumbled when Ji Junxin spoke again.

After asking Zhong Yin, Ji Junxin called out to Bai Tang, “Bai Tang, come help too.”

Bai Tang was Mi Hongdou’s assistant. Ji Junxin asking her to help meant… helping Mi Hongdou pack!

Bai Tang, having received some subtle guidance from Jiang Lingling’s assistant, instinctively looked at Mi Hongdou.

“Come on then,” Mi Hongdou said, forcing a cheerful tone, her heart sinking.

So she really can’t wait to leave! Mi Hongdou was heartbroken and blamed Qiao Rubai for Ji Junxin’s coldness. It must be because she hadn’t told her about their conversation!

Qiao Rubai, who had spent ten hours traveling, finally returned to the company just as the sun was setting, and before she could even get through a few documents, she started sneezing uncontrollably.

Had she caught a cold in spring? Qiao Rubai looked up at the sky, dejected…

Regardless of Mi Hongdou’s attempts to appear indifferent, Zhong Yin and Bai Tang went upstairs. While Mi Hongdou started cooking porridge in the kitchen, they started packing.

Mi Hongdou, while washing the rice, could hear Ji Junxin in the living room, directing Zhong Yin, “Pack this, pack that,” and her heart felt like it was shattering into even smaller pieces than the rice grains.

In the time it took her to wash the rice, Ji Junxin and Zhong Yin had already filled two suitcases. Mi Hongdou glared at Bai Tang. She had only filled half a suitcase. Her own assistant was still the best!

Zhong Yin’s efficiency was incredible. Before Mi Hongdou even finished the porridge and boiled the eggs, almost all of Ji Junxin’s belongings in the living room were gone. Mi Hongdou took an egg from the refrigerator and casually walked through the living room, noticing the empty spaces where Ji Junxin’s things used to be. The suite felt bare, the earlier warmth gone.

The impending separation… it was sad.

Before she could fully process it, Ji Junxin said, pushing the suitcases together, “Zhong Yin, let’s take these downstairs and put them in the car, so we don’t have to carry them down tomorrow.”

You’re so eager to leave! Why not just go back to Jiang City tonight! Mi Hongdou thought, her grip on the egg tightening. If it were Jiang Lingling, the egg would have cracked.

Ji Junxin, seeing no reaction from Mi Hongdou, also enlisted Bai Tang to help carry the suitcases downstairs. With the suitcases gone, the room felt even emptier. Mi Hongdou sat on the sofa, feeling defeated… so her hopes of remaining friends with Ji Junxin after the film… were just wishful thinking. Ji Junxin couldn’t wait to leave.

As expected, after taking the suitcases down, Ji Junxin returned and asked Mi Hongdou, her voice seemingly concerned, “Should I help you pack? We’re leaving tomorrow morning, just leave out the things you need for tonight.”

Mi Hongdou was certain that her face, after all the emotional turmoil today, must look terrible. Even Bai Tang didn’t dare to approach her… She didn’t think Ji Junxin couldn’t see it, but Ji Junxin still asked, her expression sincere, waiting for an answer.

And the worst part was, Mi Hongdou, knowing all this, couldn’t refuse.

“Okay,” she agreed, her voice sounding strange even to her own ears.

Ji Junxin, seemingly oblivious, took Mi Hongdou’s luggage and, with Bai Tang’s help, continued packing, not even glancing at Mi Hongdou.

What a terrible day, Mi Hongdou thought, looking at the darkening sky outside.

Why did Qiao Rubai have to come today, of all days? Mi Hongdou felt that Ji Junxin’s coldness was because she hadn’t told her about their conversation. But she couldn’t tell her the truth, and she couldn’t lie to Ji Junxin either, so she could only endure this silent treatment, watching as they packed, first the living room, then the bedroom.

Zhong Yin was incredibly efficient, her plump figure moving swiftly through the small suite, carrying armfuls of clothes from the bedroom, sorting and packing them neatly into the suitcases with practiced ease.

Mi Hongdou watched, thinking that even she herself couldn’t pack that quickly. Zhong Yin… wasn’t endearing at all! Hmph!

Bai Tang, seeing Mi Hongdou’s gloomy expression, and Ji Junxin, who was so engrossed in packing that she was sweating, kindly stopped Zhong Yin as she was about to grab another armful of clothes.

Zhong Yin’s round face was full of confusion.

Bai Tang subtly hinted that there was no need to rush.

Zhong Yin said that her employer was Ji Junxin, who seemed to be in a hurry, and then continued packing.

Bai Tang paused. So, not everyone was as perceptive as her.

Zhong Yin was perceptive, but she had been sent by Qiao Rubai to take care of Ji Junxin. Before, when Ji Junxin didn’t want her around, she stayed away. Today, Ji Junxin asked for her help, so she helped. She had to build a good relationship with the crew, but her loyalty was to her employer, and she had to prioritize Ji Junxin’s needs, not Mi Hongdou’s feelings. Although Mi Hongdou didn’t seem like an outsider, Ji Junxin’s urgency was evident. Why she was in such a hurry, Zhong Yin didn’t care, she just had to follow her instructions.

With Zhong Yin’s efficiency, Mi Hongdou’s luggage was also quickly packed.

Ji Junxin then suggested taking the suitcases down to Mengguan’s chauffeured car, which was there to pick up Mi Hongdou.

By now, Mi Hongdou had no energy to protest Ji Junxin’s obvious desire for them to travel separately.

The suitcases were gone, and the room felt truly empty.

The porridge was almost done, time to boil the eggs. Mi Hongdou composed herself, she still had to cook, after all. Who knew if she would still have the chance to cook for Ji Junxin if she continued to be angry? She had to make Qiao Rubai take responsibility for this… Mi Hongdou thought. If Ji Junxin didn’t forgive her, she would have to ask Qiao Rubai for help in explaining what had happened behind the curtains.

Ji Junxin returned alone.

The empty room, the two of them, it was like when they first met…

Even the meal was the same as their first night together.

Mi Hongdou, smelling the porridge, was lost in thought, then suddenly realized, could Ji Junxin’s request for porridge and boiled eggs be… a symbolic gesture of ending things? If so… the situation was even worse than she thought.

Just as Mi Hongdou was about to confront Ji Junxin, her phone rang.

It was Director Pan, inviting them to a wrap-up dinner at Jiang Lingling’s restaurant.

Thanks to Jiang Lingling’s efforts, that once mediocre restaurant had become quite popular. Every crew in Shudian had received free samples, and the food was good, so it had gained a good reputation. Having the wrap-up dinner at Jiang Lingling’s restaurant was only natural.

But Mi Hongdou was stunned. She had completely forgotten… about the wrap-up dinner. Why had she been making porridge then? Had she lost her mind?

Of course… if they didn’t want to go, they didn’t have to.

Mi Hongdou told Ji Junxin, secretly hoping that she wouldn’t want to go, so they could have dinner together at the suite.

But Ji Junxin, after a moment of thought, agreed readily, another disappointment for Mi Hongdou.

Jiang Lingling’s restaurant’s food was now quite good. The wrap-up dinner was a feast, and both Mi Hongdou and Ji Junxin, after trying a little of everything, were full when they returned.

The porridge she had made earlier was untouched, the eggs unboiled.

Mi Hongdou figured Ji Junxin would probably return to Jiang City tomorrow morning.

“Are we having breakfast tomorrow?” she asked, looking at the porridge.

“No,” Ji Junxin answered curtly, then, seeing Mi Hongdou’s gaze on the porridge, changed her mind. “Put it in the refrigerator…”

Not eating it, but putting it in the refrigerator… Mi Hongdou complained inwardly, but she still did as Ji Junxin asked.

After today’s events, Mi Hongdou realized that she didn’t quite understand Ji Junxin. Even after two lifetimes, did she really know her? Their interactions in her previous life had been limited to food, and although they were much closer in this life, she had thought she understood Ji Junxin. But… the Ji Junxin today was a stranger, so distant that she didn’t even dare to ask about the reason for her change.

The usually gentle and soft Ji Junxin seemed to have become more assertive, her warmth replaced by a certain coldness.

And this Ji Junxin had skillfully deflected her attempts at conversation.

Having been emotionally battered by Qiao Rubai and then repeatedly rejected by Ji Junxin, Mi Hongdou, exhausted, went to shower, feeling defeated.

But when she came out, she saw Ji Junxin sitting on her bed, properly dressed in her pajamas. Yes, on her bed.

So she’s finally ready to talk? But I don’t want to talk anymore, hmph!

Although that was her thought, Mi Hongdou slowly approached.

“I accidentally spilled some cola on my bed earlier,” Ji Junxin said, pointing at her bed. “Right in the middle, the sheets and blanket are all wet. It’s too late to ask for new ones, and I don’t like using the hotel’s bedding. Our spare set is packed in the car, I don’t know which suitcase it’s in, it’s too much trouble to unpack. Since it’s just for one night, can I sleep with you tonight?”

Mi Hongdou, hearing the long explanation, was stunned.

“Wh… what?” she stammered.

“…” Ji Junxin omitted her earlier explanation and asked again, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Chapter 111: The Small, Dark Room

Pan Xiang repeatedly insisted that those two scenes deviated from her script, but Director Pan didn’t understand her distress. Ji Junxin started putting on her makeup immediately after lunch, her eagerness also a mystery to Director Pan.

I must be getting old, he thought, unable to keep up with these young people.

But their individual anxieties and eagerness didn’t affect the afternoon filming, which started on time.

Even with Ji Junxin’s early makeup preparations, they still had to wait for Jiang Duo, who hadn’t eaten lunch on set and only returned just before the end of their lunch break.

Jiang Duo was frustrated. Her family was a mess, her mother’s gambling debts seemingly endless, her father unable to control her mother. She had to work, to earn money to repay the debts. She couldn’t stay home and watch over her mother. Although the debts to the gambling den were almost paid off, she still owed a large sum to Lu Gaoshi.

And Lu Gaoshi’s money wasn’t easy to repay. Jiang Duo wasn’t stupid, she knew what Lu Gaoshi wanted. She had initially played along, hoping to use Lu Gaoshi’s connections to get closer to Ji Junxin and Qiong Yu. But after several attempts, she realized that although Qiao Rubai and Ji Junxin were polite, they weren’t interested in her. Forget about connections, even a simple conversation was impossible. The Qiong Yu path was blocked, and now, her family owed Lu Gaoshi a large sum, with no way to repay it! The Jiang family’s initial plan of using Jiang Dingyi to win over Lu Gaoshi and then dumping her after securing a deal with Qiong Yu had failed. Now, without any hope of working with Qiong Yu, Lu Gaoshi was their creditor, inescapable.

Jiang Duo knew her father was still meeting with Lu Gaoshi, but she couldn’t control the nature of their relationship. After all, she was just a small-time actress, her future uncertain. Her hard-earned money had already been used to pay off her mother’s debts, she had no money or power to “rescue” her father from Lu Gaoshi. Regardless of their relationship, she couldn’t do anything about it. If her father wronged anyone, it was her mother, let it be her mother’s karma for her gambling addiction.

Jiang Duo knew that her family problems were affecting her performance, her anxiety leading to even more mistakes. She wasn’t a big star, just an actress Dajin Entertainment was trying to promote. People’s displeasure, the cold shoulders and subtle criticisms, were unavoidable. Even Zhang Zijing, from the same company, who had shown some interest in her, was now distant. All she could do was endure.

She had initially panicked after learning about her family’s financial situation, her mind consumed by it. But this only lasted for about a month. Although still distressed, her state of mind gradually improved. Unfortunately… by then, she had already become unpopular in the crew. Her later poor performance was partly due to her family problems, and partly… because of the crew’s attitude towards her.

Once you make a mistake, it’s hard to recover.

Jiang Duo could only hope to finish this film and then start anew with a different crew.

Today’s scene was her last one in “Imperial Secrets,” a thought that filled her with relief. She could finally escape this terrible environment!

Waking up that morning, she felt a renewed sense of hope and anticipation, unlike her usual dejection! She could almost see a brighter future waiting for her after this scene.

The feeling of finally escaping a toxic work environment… that was Jiang Duo’s current state.

The scene of Consort Zhu being force-fed poison was originally scheduled for the morning. Jiang Duo had thought she could finish her part in this production today. But Ji Junxin, who usually nailed her scenes in one take, kept NGing, and Director Pan didn’t seem to be letting her pass. Seeing the time, Jiang Duo figured finishing her scene in the morning was unlikely. And then Director Pan, for some reason, decided to reshoot a scene Mi Hongdou had already completed. Jiang Duo sighed, things never went as planned. Director Pan’s way of doing things was really annoying. She glanced at the bustling set, then went to her resting area.

Jiang Duo didn’t know she had missed two great performances. But even if she did, she wouldn’t have cared.

For her, a good performance wasn’t the priority anymore, she just wanted to be done with this crew!

Unable to finish in the morning, Jiang Duo, annoyed, ate a lot for lunch. Looking at the food, she couldn’t help but think of Ji Junxin. Although she hadn’t had many opportunities to get close to Ji Junxin during these past few months of filming, she had to admit that Lu Gaoshi was right, Ji Junxin had a weakness for food. If it weren’t for Mi Hongdou moving into Ji Junxin’s room and Jiang Lingling bringing a feast to the set every day, Jiang Duo thought she could have used food to build a relationship with Ji Junxin. Unfortunately, they had beaten her to it!

Thinking this, Jiang Duo finished her meal, her resentment growing.

Negativity breeds negativity.

But when she returned to the set, still annoyed, she was surprised to find someone even more resentful than her.

As soon as she entered the makeup room, she felt a hostile gaze, a blatant, unwavering stare.

As the crew’s NG queen, she was used to such looks.

But she hadn’t even started filming yet! And why was this almost murderous gaze coming from Ji Junxin, who was known for her good temper!

Even with Lu Gaoshi’s help, she hadn’t been able to win over Ji Junxin. After Lu Gaoshi left Qiong Yu, she had tried to approach Ji Junxin a few times, but… she had been politely but firmly rebuffed. Even without any friends in the crew, she couldn’t keep fawning over Ji Junxin, especially with Mi Hongdou always nearby, frowning at her. So, for the past few months, besides filming, she had barely interacted with Ji Junxin. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t noticed Ji Junxin’s good temper.

So why this sudden hostility? Jiang Duo hesitated at the door, almost afraid to enter.

But with the end of the lunch break, she had to go in. To her surprise, as she sat down and started with her makeup, although the hostile gaze persisted, it seemed to soften slightly.

It was strange.

But it didn’t matter, it was her last scene anyway, Jiang Duo comforted herself.

Since Director Pan insisted on using real props, she had asked the props department earlier and, knowing that the “poison” was just flat cola, felt relieved. As long as it wasn’t something disgusting, she could handle this scene.

She was wrong.

Jiang Duo, as Consort Zhu, after having her old-age makeup done, was hung, spread-eagle, in a small, dark room.

According to the script, Consort Zhu seemed to have anticipated this day, but when it finally arrived, she still struggled, her eyes filled with defiance. It wasn’t until Miao Qianye, now the Empress Dowager, opened the door that she asked, her voice choked with anger and despair, “Where’s my son?”

Miao Qianye, also with graying hair, replied calmly, “Dead.”

Then, ignoring Consort Zhu’s angry curses, Miao Qianye, her expression cold, refused the servants’ assistance and personally took the bowl of medicine from the tray, forcing it down Consort Zhu’s throat. Just a few drops were enough to be fatal, but Miao Qianye, ignoring Consort Zhu’s struggles, even the blood that started trickling from her mouth, forced her to drink the entire bowl, the blood mixing with the medicine.

Jiang Duo had initially thought that the only difficulty in this scene was remembering to bite the small blood capsule hidden in her mouth while being force-fed the medicine.

When filming started, she realized how wrong she was.

The so-called “small, dark room” wasn’t that dark, with cameras and crew members around, Jiang Duo wasn’t afraid at all.

Until… the door opened.

The light from outside wasn’t particularly bright. What was dazzling… was Ji Junxin.

Dressed in the heavy, dark robes of the Empress Dowager, her expression cold and imposing, she stood at the door, followed by a retinue of servants.

She wasn’t excited about killing someone she disliked. It was as if she was just here to crush an insignificant ant, an effortless task, not worth any excitement.

As Ji Junxin approached, Jiang Duo, acting out her struggles, prepared to ask, “Where’s my son?”

But when Ji Junxin was close enough for her to see her expression clearly, Jiang Duo froze.

What kind of look was that… Jiang Duo felt like she was looking at the real Empress Dowager, her word law.

Was that… killing intent? Jiang Duo shivered.

“Cut!” Director Pan’s voice.

Jiang Duo, who had expected a quick and easy scene, was now trapped in a series of “cuts.”

And no matter how many times they reshot it, every time the door opened, it was the same expression, the same aura. The repeated NGs didn’t seem to affect Ji Junxin at all.

The more they NGed, the more terrified Jiang Duo became. This wasn’t normal! Even if Ji Junxin was immersed in the role, her acting that good, how could her state remain unaffected after so many NGs? And… Ji Junxin’s aura seemed to intensify with each take. Jiang Duo almost felt that if she NGed again, Ji Junxin wouldn’t just feed her the medicine, but would smash the bowl against her face!

No, Ji Junxin wouldn’t do that! Jiang Duo refused to believe it, but her instincts told her that Ji Junxin’s patience was wearing thin. She looked at Director Pan and the crew pleadingly, wanting to ask for a break, hoping it would make Ji Junxin act normally again, although she doubted it.

But all she saw were annoyed and impatient expressions, their patience also wearing thin…

Jiang Duo, her arms tied, spread-eagle, suddenly felt like the real Consort Zhu, trapped and helpless, everyone thinking she deserved it.

A strong sense of fear washed over her.

Who said historical dramas were safe! She felt a sense of danger.

With the increasingly intimidating Ji Junxin on one side, and the impatient crew on the other, Jiang Duo didn’t dare to NG again, she had reached her limit.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Jiang Duo, no longer daring to NG, when the door opened for the next take, she also became immersed in the role…

Perhaps because her current fear mirrored Consort Zhu’s, she finally managed to deliver her lines and interact with Ji Junxin without NGing.

And her genuine fear, projected onto Consort Zhu, made her performance even better, even satisfying Director Pan.

Director Pan rubbed his eyes, couldn’t believe that the terrified yet defiant Consort Zhu was actually Jiang Duo.

How well Jiang Duo acted didn’t matter to Ji Junxin.

As long as Director Pan didn’t call cut, she would follow the script, Miao Qianye would have her revenge for Qin Muxue.

Having to follow the script for revenge was so frustrating. The desire to have her drink the same poison, to have her suffer the same fate, burned in her heart.

No matter how long it took, how many takes, she would have her revenge.

Director Pan didn’t call cut, and Ji Junxin, increasingly immersed, her pent-up rage and desire for revenge almost overwhelming her.

As long as she drinks it, the same poison, my revenge will be complete.

Don’t rush, don’t rush…

Ji Junxin steadily held the bowl and brought it to Jiang Duo’s lips.

Jiang Duo’s trembling lips touched the rim of the bowl.

And then, Ji Junxin, who had been so gentle, suddenly shoved the bowl against Jiang Duo’s mouth.

Jiang Duo’s teeth hit the porcelain, a sharp pain.

And it was just the beginning.

The pain jolted Jiang Duo out of character. But she quickly realized that this was almost over, she couldn’t NG, she couldn’t face this Ji Junxin again, this crazy woman!

Jiang Duo endured the pain as her lips, teeth, even her tongue, were pressed against the bowl, and managed to bite the blood capsule hidden in her mouth.

She spat out the liquid, pretending to vomit blood.

It’s over… just finish this bowl, and it’s done. She relaxed slightly, and Ji Junxin, seizing the opportunity, poured the medicine down her throat, making her choke.

Director Pan still hadn’t called cut, so… the scene continued, and Jiang Duo, choking, finished it, driven by her survival instinct.

When she finally closed her eyes, she didn’t want to open them again, didn’t want to see that lunatic Ji Junxin. She felt like her lips were cracked, her teeth aching. And she couldn’t even complain.

Consort Zhu, her head drooping limply, died in front of Miao Qianye.

Ji Junxin, holding the empty bowl, her expression blank, turned and walked away, her movements stiff and mechanical.

A crew member whispered to Director Pan, “The script says Miao Qianye should cry after feeding her the poison, should we call cut?”

The cameraman, following Ji Junxin, captured the moment the bowl slipped from her hand as she continued walking, seemingly oblivious.

Director Pan watched the monitor and shook his head. “No, this is perfect. Keep this shot.”

Jiang Duo, who had been playing dead with her eyes closed, barely daring to breathe, afraid of another NG, felt someone untying her. Finally, it was over.

Her arms released, she almost collapsed, weak and pitiful.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t show her suffering and humiliation, or Mi Hongdou and Qiao Rubai would have gleefully said, “You deserved it!”

Ji Junxin, with her intense performance, had inadvertently avenged her past self.

Since that morning’s scene, Mi Hongdou had sensed something was off with Ji Junxin. But if she asked, Ji Junxin would just retort with, “You and Qiao Rubai had secrets, and you wouldn’t tell me either.” And Mi Hongdou had always been silenced by this… Seeing that Ji Junxin’s only unusual behavior was her serious expression and her silence, Mi Hongdou assumed she was just affected by the heavy emotional scenes.

But after Jiang Duo’s scene, Mi Hongdou felt even more uneasy.

Compared to Director Pan and the others, who were focused on the technical aspects, Mi Hongdou, concerned about Ji Junxin, instinctively felt that something was wrong. But when she tried to approach her, she was rebuffed again. This time, Ji Junxin didn’t ask about her conversation with Qiao Rubai, but just looked at Mi Hongdou silently, her gaze complex.

After Qiao Rubai’s story, Mi Hongdou couldn’t bear to look at Ji Junxin, couldn’t bear to think about what she must have been like in her previous life. Now, Ji Junxin’s silence and her steady gaze were unbearable.

And her attempts at conversation were met with just a curt “I’m fine,” or a slightly more elaborate “I’m fine, really.”

Mi Hongdou hadn’t gotten anywhere when Director Pan announced a new plan.

“While Ji Junxin is in the zone, let’s film the final estate scene.” What?

Director Pan had made the decision, Ji Junxin readily agreed, and Mi Hongdou… what choice did she have?

Fortunately, for the final estate scene, they just needed to make Ji Junxin look older and have her walk around the estate. She could consider it a relaxing stroll… Mi Hongdou, without any say in the matter, could only think this.

As the makeup artist aged Ji Junxin, and she slowly walked around the estate, touching the old spinning wheel, Mi Hongdou felt a pang of nostalgia.

Not long ago, she and Ji Junxin had been filming here every day, complaining about the desolate surroundings while enjoying Jiang Lingling’s feasts. And now, the film was almost finished…

Every encounter in life was a gift, no matter how joyful, it always ended in separation.

The estate, still desolate and deserted, felt strangely cold. Mi Hongdou’s gaze followed Ji Junxin’s slow movements, her suppressed sadness surfacing.

It was just a walk… why does it feel like it’s pulling at my heartstrings?

She suddenly remembered a quote she had read long ago: “Cruelty is revealing the truth at the happiest moment.”

When the audience saw the once bustling estate, now deserted, only the elderly Miao Qianye slowly walking through it, searching for traces of their past struggles and joys, how would they feel? Would they feel as heartbroken as she did?

Mi Hongdou’s gaze towards Ji Junxin softened… at least, in this life, she wouldn’t let her be alone again.

In this life, I will absolutely not do any wire stunts! Absolutely!

Chapter 110: Grandpa

When Miao Qianye on the screen leaned over, resting her forehead against the young Empress’s folded hands, and the curtains fell, Director Pan thought that was the end of Ji Junxin’s improvisation.

Indeed, her performance in this scene, from the initial outburst of anger and vulnerability as she barged into the bedchamber, to the hesitant fear as she approached the truth, was far superior to her earlier takes. The same person, the same actions, but the feeling was entirely different, every movement, every glance, emotionally charged.

Was it because this scene was filmed so soon after Mi Hongdou’s suicide scene? Director Pan could almost feel the emotional continuity between the two scenes.

The sorrow deepened, the tragedy amplified… Miao Qianye’s arrival seemed to elevate the young Empress’s earlier despair and resignation. The Empress’s final act of drawing the curtains had been heartbreaking enough, but Miao Qianye’s panicked arrival made it even more poignant.

Then, Ji Junxin, deviating from the script, after confirming the Empress’s death, stood up, and then, in a sudden outburst of anger, pulled the Empress’s body up. Director Pan almost crushed his own hand.

Yes, that was it. Besides the sorrow, there was also anger, resentment! How could you decide this on your own, sacrificing your life for me!

The Empress’s suicide was a sacrifice, an act of giving up. She had given up on their shared struggle, their unspoken bond forged in adversity. She had chosen sacrifice, and Miao Qianye didn’t want it.

Director Pan watched as Ji Junxin grabbed Mi Hongdou’s clothes, pulling up the lifeless body, her eyes filled with not just grief, but also… a hint of hatred.

Yes, hatred was justified. We promised to face this together.

Director Pan was surprised by Ji Junxin’s performance, so different from her earlier takes, elevating the scene to a new level. And when Ji Junxin leaned over, resting her forehead against Mi Hongdou’s hand, he marveled at her portrayal of this deep friendship.

This scene was far superior to the previous ones, perfectly building on the emotional foundation laid by Mi Hongdou’s suicide scene. But he still felt… something was missing? Ji Junxin’s performance was brilliant, even better than her previous ones. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what was lacking.

He shook his head. Perhaps it wasn’t lacking anything, perhaps he was just being too critical…

Just then, from behind the curtains, a choked sob, a heart-wrenching cry, pierced through the fabric, stabbing at his heart. Director Pan froze. Yes, that was it, the final… emotional explosion.

The helplessness, the sorrow, the unspoken anger… all released in that one cry.

He instinctively looked at the screen. Fortunately, during the brief silence after the curtain fell, the camera had still been rolling.

This had to be included! It was perfect, so emotionally resonant, it would make this film unforgettable. Director Pan was so excited that he could barely contain himself, he wanted to release the film right then and there.

At his age, with his established career, this kind of excitement, this passion, this uncontrollable enthusiasm, was a rare feeling.

“Imperial Secrets” will be a hit! The friendship between Miao Qianye and the young Empress will move so many people, will make them envious! Director Pan thought confidently.

Unlike the elated Director Pan, Mi Hongdou, playing the corpse, wasn’t having a good time.

She had thought that after filming the suicide scene, she had overcome the biggest challenge of this film, and this last scene, Ji Junxin’s big moment, she just had to lie there quietly.

But this scene had become a hidden, post-game boss, its difficulty level skyrocketing.

Mi Hongdou hadn’t expected playing a corpse to be so difficult…

After the suicide scene, she had lingered on the bed, already detached from the role. She had approached this scene with a casual attitude, not intending to immerse herself.

Playing a corpse, the most important things were: don’t move, and breathe as shallowly as possible. This wasn’t difficult for Mi Hongdou.

Studies showed that humans relied heavily on their sight. When deprived of visual input, other senses became heightened.

Mi Hongdou, her eyes closed, experienced this firsthand.

Lying still, she could hear Ji Junxin entering the room, could feel her lifting the curtain.

And then, her peace was shattered.

Something approached, carried by a breeze, a coolness, stopping just before her. She clearly smelled… Ji Junxin’s hand cream, the scent lingering, not dissipating.

If her nose wasn’t malfunctioning, then… had Ji Junxin changed the scene? Was she testing her breathing?

Mi Hongdou’s mind reeled. Qiao Rubai’s earlier words, although she didn’t dare to dwell on them, were still fresh in her memory.

In her previous life… when she died… had Ji Junxin also done this, desperately searching for a sign of life? The two scenes overlapped in her mind, and her breathing quickened.

No… no… Mi Hongdou forced herself to calm down, to slow her breathing. She was filming, playing a corpse, she couldn’t ruin the take with her own emotions, she couldn’t waste Ji Junxin’s effort!

So, she struggled to maintain her composure in this supposedly easy scene.

She relaxed her body, cleared her mind, and focused on controlling her breathing, becoming acutely aware of the moment Ji Junxin’s hand retreated.

The rustling of the falling curtain brought a slight relief.

But before she could relax completely, she felt a gust of wind, her clothes being clutched tightly, her upper body lifted.

What the hell! Mi Hongdou desperately tried to remain still, to suppress her panic and not break character.

Ji Junxin is just acting… acting… acting… she told herself.

Fortunately, this uncomfortable position didn’t last long. She felt herself being gently lowered, and as her back touched the bed, her racing heart calmed down slightly.

Ji Junxin’s hand brushed against her chest, her neck, a tingling sensation that made her skin crawl. Mi Hongdou hated her heightened senses…

She didn’t dare to imagine what Ji Junxin looked like now, focusing on controlling her own body, which only made it worse.

Then, as Ji Junxin leaned over, Mi Hongdou felt the warmth and dampness on the back of her hand, and she realized how difficult it was to play a corpse.

Although it was just acting, she desperately wanted to wipe away Ji Junxin’s tears, to hold her tightly… to tell her it was all fake, not to cry!

The dampness on her hand spread, but Director Pan still hadn’t called cut. Mi Hongdou was about to break.

She didn’t have to wait for Director Pan’s “cut.” Ji Junxin’s choked cry made her break character.

That cry was like a knife, piercing her heart.

Forgetting everything, Mi Hongdou opened her eyes, her vision blurring from the sudden light, and reached out, her hand cupping Ji Junxin’s face.

“…” She wanted to ask what was wrong, but as Ji Junxin, following her touch, lifted her face and met her gaze, the words died in her throat.

What kind of gaze was that? … Mi Hongdou couldn’t describe it, but she felt that… perhaps this was how Ji Junxin had looked after her death in her previous life. Like a whirlpool of sorrow, drawing in everyone who looked at her, crushing them with its intensity.

Mi Hongdou had been wrong, her heart wasn’t just pierced, it was shattered into a million pieces.

“The… filming… is over…” Mi Hongdou didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t even sure if they were finished, but these words seemed like the only possible comfort. Yes, comfort, she didn’t know how to comfort Ji Junxin. She clumsily wiped the tears from Ji Junxin’s face, but it was useless… Ji Junxin continued crying.

Something was wrong! Mi Hongdou couldn’t wipe away her tears, her own heart aching with worry and helplessness.

Ji Junxin’s gaze, slightly unfocused, then she pulled back slightly, away from Mi Hongdou’s touch.

Mi Hongdou froze.

Ji Junxin suddenly stood up, roughly wiped her face with her sleeve, and without a word, left the bed.

Ji Junxin’s tears, cold against her palm, Mi Hongdou, like a startled bird, was stunned by her sudden departure.

Something was definitely wrong. She quickly followed Ji Junxin, who was walking towards Director Pan.

Director Pan, still immersed in the scene, hadn’t noticed Ji Junxin’s approach, her expression resolute.

“Let’s film the next scene,” Ji Junxin said as she reached him. “The next scene should be the poisoning scene, I’m ready, let’s begin.”

It was common for directors to urge actors, but actors asking to start the next scene immediately was rare. However, Director Pan, having experienced the actors’ eagerness during the escape scenes, was relatively calm.

“It’s almost lunch time, let’s wrap up for the morning and film that scene in the afternoon,” he said, still thinking about how to edit the two scenes together for maximum impact, not wanting to rush into the next one.

“…” Ji Junxin seemed unwilling to accept his refusal and insisted, “The next scene was originally scheduled for the morning. I know I wasted some time earlier, but I promise I won’t delay the next scene, we’ll finish before lunch.”

Ji Junxin’s eagerness, practically guaranteeing a one-take pass, made Director Pan pause.

Why so eager?

Facing her sincerity, he almost couldn’t refuse, but then he noticed her red eyes.

“Well… it’s not about the previous scene. It’s just that for the next scene, you’ll need to reapply your makeup, to look older, which will take time. And your eyes… you need to rest, to recover.” He tried to be gentle. “And even if you don’t NG, it won’t matter. The next scene is with Jiang Duo… it will definitely take a long time. Let’s have lunch first, rest, and then focus on that scene this afternoon. You also need to rest.”

His words were reasonable and well-intentioned. Ji Junxin knew this and silently retreated.

Mi Hongdou arrived just in time to hear their conversation.

But it was too late to intervene, the matter was settled.

As Ji Junxin walked away, Mi Hongdou followed. She caught up, and then, hesitantly, asked, “Are you… okay?”

Ji Junxin stopped abruptly, and Mi Hongdou, not reacting in time, took a few more steps before turning back awkwardly.

“What is it?” Ji Junxin’s eyes were still slightly red, but there were no tears. Her gaze towards Mi Hongdou was just… questioning.

It was as if the earlier emotions had been an illusion.

Mi Hongdou wanted to say something, but the words caught in her throat.

Ji Junxin waited patiently.

“I’m… fine…” Mi Hongdou mumbled.

Ji Junxin smiled faintly and continued walking.

Mi Hongdou didn’t follow. Her mind was a mess, even more so now, after seeing Ji Junxin. She needed to be alone.

So, she missed the coldness in Ji Junxin’s eyes, the hardness in her gaze.

After dismissing Ji Junxin, Director Pan, seeing that the crew meals had arrived, announced a lunch break.

Pan Xiang, who had been working on her graduation thesis at the hotel, arrived on set for lunch at her grandfather’s urging. She couldn’t understand why, during the estate scenes, when there were no other options, he had insisted on her eating the crew meals with him. But now, back in Shudian, with plenty of restaurants nearby, he still insisted. It was… inhumane!

Regardless of her complaints, as long as they were in Shudian, she would usually obey and eat the crew meals.

When she arrived, she saw Director Pan eating his boxed lunch while watching something on the monitor.

As expected, without her supervision, he was being bad again. Pan Xiang sighed and walked over to him, blocking the screen. “Focus on your food, Grandpa. Grandma told you not to watch TV while eating. Next time you have a stomachache, I won’t cover for you.”

Having such an unreliable grandfather, she always had to nag him like a mother.

And this grandfather was even less obedient than a child.

Director Pan, annoyed by the sudden obstruction, waved his chopsticks. “Hey, move! I’m thinking about the editing!”

“You’re in charge of editing too?” Pan Xiang complained, reluctantly stepping aside. It wasn’t that she wanted to, but Director Pan’s waving chopsticks, with the greasy red-braised pork from his lunchbox, were threatening.

“Hmph.” He snorted, then his excitement returned, and he forgot his annoyance. “You missed two great scenes this morning! Come, take a look!” Like a child showing off a new toy, he pulled Pan Xiang over and replayed the two scenes they had just filmed.

I haven’t even eaten yet! My lunch is getting cold! How can I eat that greasy, cold red-braised pork! Your granddaughter is going to starve, do you even care! Are you even my grandpa! Pan Xiang, dragged over by Director Pan, was filled with complaints, which vanished the moment she saw the screen.

The first scene was the Empress’s suicide. As she watched, Pan Xiang felt that something was… off. Not that it deviated from the script, on the contrary, the performance was even more emotionally resonant than what she had written.

After watching Mi Hongdou’s performance, Pan Xiang felt it was brilliant, she herself, the screenwriter, was almost moved to tears, but something still felt… wrong!

Director Pan seamlessly transitioned to the next scene, Miao Qianye’s arrival.

Pan Xiang watched, her jaw dropping slightly, her eyes wide with surprise.

After the two scenes, her jaw still hadn’t returned to its normal position. Had her worst fear come true! She had written a normal script! Why did it always end up with homoerotic undertones!

“How is it? Isn’t it great! I have two ideas for editing. One, just play them sequentially. Two, intercut them, showing a bit of the Empress’s scene, then Miao Qianye’s, then back to the Empress’s, following the parallel timelines. Or, even bolder, split the screen, showing Miao Qianye rushing to the palace on one side, and the young Empress looking at the door on the other, a contrast between her urgency and the Empress’s waiting, only to miss each other in the end, how heartbreaking! And then Miao Qianye’s final, despairing cry, it would be incredibly moving!” Director Pan said excitedly, not noticing his granddaughter’s stunned silence. “So, which editing method do you think is more effective?”

Pan Xiang stared at the excited Director Pan, then rubbed her face, which had stiffened from shock, finally closing her mouth. She couldn’t imagine his expression after the film was released… He’s so clueless… she thought, then suddenly remembered, he was her grandfather, after the release, he would definitely hold her responsible! Am I going to be executed for this?!

“My script… wasn’t like this…” Pan Xiang looked at the excited Director Pan, her expression complex.

“Hmph,” Director Pan snorted. “It’s just a minor change. As the director, can’t I make a few changes? Don’t you think the result is great?”

Great… so great that even a blind person could sense the yuri undertones… and you’re even thinking about split-screen, parallel timelines, are you trying to shove it in the audience’s faces, Grandpa?! Facing the incredibly enthusiastic Director Pan, Pan Xiang weakly raised her hand. “I just want to say, those two scenes weren’t filmed according to my script.”

“Hmph!” Director Pan felt like his enthusiasm had been met with a bucket of cold water. He ignored Pan Xiang, picked up his lunchbox, and walked away.

Pan Xiang was stunned, then quickly chased after him, shouting, “Grandpa… remember! Those two scenes weren’t according to my script! Remember that when you edit the film! Grandpa… Grandpa, Grandpa!”

Grandpa, don’t go! Grandpa, listen to me! It wasn’t me! Grandpa up ahead, is this your lost granddaughter?

Chapter 109: Wait a Moment

Director Pan’s suggestion made Ji Junxin feel uneasy. So I’m the only one curious about what happened between Qiao Rubai and Mi Hongdou, and why Mi Hongdou was crying? Director Pan’s serious and urgent tone, urging her to fetch Mi Hongdou, made her feel like her curiosity was the strange one.

Urged by Director Pan, Ji Junxin slowly walked back to find Mi Hongdou. She hadn’t gone far when she saw Mi Hongdou walking towards her. And then, Ji Junxin clearly saw Mi Hongdou freeze, hesitate, and then try to avoid her, stepping aside as if to walk around her.

Although Mi Hongdou quickly corrected her course, Ji Junxin had seen her hesitation.

So you two have secrets now, not even telling me! And now one runs away, and the other tries to avoid me, what’s going on! Ji Junxin, who had been worried about them earlier, was now angry. Facing the approaching Mi Hongdou, who was trying to smile, Ji Junxin felt annoyed and couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries.

“Director Pan is looking for you,” she said coldly, then turned and walked away.

Ji Junxin’s expression was even worse than when Mi Hongdou hadn’t answered her question earlier, and Mi Hongdou didn’t dare to follow, just trailing behind her slowly as they returned to the set.

Ji Junxin had initially walked quickly, then slowed down. But Mi Hongdou still hadn’t caught up, and Ji Junxin, spoiled by Mi Hongdou’s attentiveness, was furious. She felt like, after that short conversation between Qiao Rubai and Mi Hongdou, her treatment had plummeted.

Regardless of their emotions, one angry, the other anxious, they quickly returned to Director Pan.

Director Pan wanted to reshoot Mi Hongdou’s suicide scene. He said that her earlier performance was good, but he felt that the Empress, although resolute in her decision to die for the sake of the country and the eldest prince, should also have some lingering attachment to life.

Even the most courageous, facing death, would instinctively cling to life. And the Empress’s character didn’t need to be so heroic, a more tragic portrayal would be more fitting.

Tragedy was about being forced to do what you didn’t want to do, being forced to die when you didn’t want to die.

The earlier take, although capturing the Empress’s righteousness and resolve, lacked that sense of reluctance. It was a positive portrayal, but not tragic enough. The Empress, calmly accepting her death after arranging her affairs, didn’t resonate with Miao Qianye’s later grief. Friendship wasn’t a one-sided emotion.

Director Pan didn’t ask why Mi Hongdou’s eyes were red after her private conversation with Qiao Rubai. He just said that her current state was perfect for reshooting the scene. Dying with reluctance would be more impactful than dying without any attachments.

Normally, after such a detailed explanation, Mi Hongdou would understand and deliver a perfect performance.

But now… although she understood, she didn’t want to reshoot.

After hearing about her death in her previous life from Qiao Rubai, having to film a suicide scene again, was Director Pan deliberately trying to torture her? Mi Hongdou was speechless.

She hesitated, not responding. Director Pan, thinking that he hadn’t explained clearly enough, analyzed the Empress’s psychological state before her death.

Mi Hongdou still didn’t respond, seemingly distracted.

Director Pan frowned.

Even though she was still angry at Mi Hongdou, Ji Junxin didn’t want to see her being scolded. She nudged Mi Hongdou gently. “Director Pan explained it so clearly, even I understand. Go touch up your makeup, while your eyes are still red, let’s film the suicide scene quickly, so we can continue with my scene.”

Mi Hongdou glanced at Ji Junxin. She didn’t want to “die” again in front of her.

Ji Junxin, oblivious to Mi Hongdou’s feelings, pushed her towards the makeup area.

Mi Hongdou couldn’t find a reason to refuse, and with Ji Junxin’s insistent gaze, she was pushed back onto the set.

Facing the “poisoned wine,” Mi Hongdou was no longer as calm as before.

She didn’t want to “die” again in front of Ji Junxin, looking at the wine pot, wondering if she should be grateful that the Empress died from poison, not from jumping off a cliff.

The crew was ready, but Mi Hongdou couldn’t find any inspiration. Acting? She was in no mood…

But thinking about Director Pan’s insistence on realism… if she couldn’t nail this scene in one take, he would ask for another, and another, and another. She would have to die countless times in front of Ji Junxin… Although she knew Ji Junxin understood it was just acting, she still didn’t want to repeat this scene, she couldn’t bear it.

Without the right mood or emotions, her mind still on the earlier conversation, Mi Hongdou, to avoid NGing, could only try to immerse herself in the role.

Sitting at the table, her gaze lowered, looking at the “poisoned wine,” she seemed to be in a trance.

The Empress’s suicide scene, first take, reshoot.

The young Empress sat quietly, her eyes lowered, seemingly studying the wood grain of the table, or perhaps just lost in thought. After a long moment, she slowly looked up at the wine pot and smiled faintly, a gentle smile. Then, with a decisive movement, she picked up the pot and poured a full cup of wine.

Her grip on the cup was so tight that her knuckles turned white. She brought the cup to her lips, then paused.

She looked towards the door. It was closed, no one there. But she seemed to be looking through the door, at a distant place, a distant person… Her eyes reddened, her gaze deep and melancholic.

Frozen like a statue, she seemed to be waiting, waiting for someone to open the door, waiting for someone to appear. She seemed reluctant to drink the wine, waiting for someone to stop her.

Just as she looked at the door, her expression vulnerable, almost as if she would change her mind, her gaze hardened.

The hesitation was just a fleeting moment, a final indulgence in life.

Two tears silently slid down her cheeks, and she resolutely drank the wine.

She looked at the door again.

Not with anticipation, but… with a final farewell.

Then she stood up, frowning, her lips pressed together, clutching her stomach, seemingly in pain, her back straight, and walked towards the bed.

Just before getting into bed and drawing the curtains, she looked at the door again.

Still closed.

Her eyes reddened again, her gaze filled with an unconcealed sadness and longing.

Finally, the curtains fell, and the room was silent.

Yes, silent.

Not just the set, but also the crew, watching.

A heavy, oppressive silence, as if the young Empress on screen had truly crossed the boundary between life and death. That resolute choice of death, and the lingering attachment to life, two seemingly contradictory emotions, perfectly intertwined.

So real, so real that it tugged at their heartstrings.

For a long time, no one spoke, the cameraman didn’t even stop filming.

Although the scene was over, the silence behind the curtains lingered, everyone holding their breath, wanting to pull back the curtains, yet also hesitant.

Mi Hongdou, lying on the bed, her eyes closed, thinking about her life, slowly detached from the role.

When she opened the curtains, she was surprised by the silence, a strange, almost eerie silence.

But as soon as she emerged, the crew members, who had been captivated by her performance, relaxed. It was just acting… they thought, relieved.

Director Pan, his fists clenched, his expression serious, his eyes shining, remained silent for a long moment.

He had just suggested a minor change, a slight shift in emotion, because he had noticed Mi Hongdou’s red eyes, and he hadn’t expected… such a brilliant performance!

Especially her three glances towards the door, the anticipation, the reluctance, the regret, contrasting sharply with her decisive action of drinking the poison. That bittersweet mix of longing and resignation, portrayed so vividly, it was heartbreaking.

This was the power of death, the power of tragedy, and… something more. Director Pan couldn’t articulate it, but he felt a deep emotional resonance.

This take was far superior to the previous one.

Next, it was Miao Qianye’s arrival.

The Empress’s suicide, like a gentle breeze, subtly brought the audience’s mood to a low point. And then Miao Qianye’s grief would be the catalyst, transforming the sadness into tears, the emotional climax of the film.

But… Mi Hongdou’s performance was so good that if Ji Junxin’s next scene was just technically proficient, without genuine emotion, it wouldn’t be enough, it wouldn’t be able to build on Mi Hongdou’s performance. Director Pan, after his initial elation, now frowned, his excitement replaced by worry.

Just as he was feeling frustrated, Ji Junxin, who had been silent, suddenly spoke.

“Film… film my scene,” she said, her voice slightly trembling, her gaze towards Director Pan unusually firm and eager. “Now.”

It wasn’t just Director Pan and the crew who had been moved by Mi Hongdou’s performance…

Ji Junxin, having watched the scene, her heart pounding, felt an unprecedented urge to act.

She knew, she knew what the young empress was looking at, what she was waiting for.

A voice urged her, Go, don’t make her wait, go…

Director Pan was puzzled by her sudden eagerness, but he quickly made the arrangements. It was the same set, they just needed to adjust the camera angles.

He didn’t know that Ji Junxin, watching Mi Hongdou’s performance, had already become immersed in the role. Her urgency was Miao Qianye’s urgency… Miao Qianye had seen the young empress’s waiting, and although she knew it was too late, she couldn’t bear to make her wait, not even for a second.

As the crew adjusted the cameras, Ji Junxin waited, her hands trembling.

Mi Hongdou, off-screen, didn’t go to Director Pan, but returned to her resting area.

This immersion had been incredibly draining.

The events of the day, past and present, on and off screen, life and death… Mi Hongdou felt like she had been through a wringer.

Although she knew that she was back in the past, that as long as she didn’t do any wire stunts, she wouldn’t die and wouldn’t have to see Ji Junxin’s devastation again, that with her memories, she could even protect Ji Junxin from her past hurts, like Zhang Zijing and Jiang Duo,

She was still haunted by Qiao Rubai’s story, heartbroken by what happened after her death. She needed time to process it.

Already emotionally vulnerable, the reshot suicide scene had exhausted her. Fortunately, it was her second to last scene in “Imperial Secrets.” She sat in her chair, watching the crew adjust the equipment, glad that the scene seemed to be a pass. She didn’t want to analyze her performance, her mind needed a break.

Her last scene was Miao Qianye’s arrival. She just had to play a corpse, no lines, no actions, it should be easy.

Although playing a corpse should be easy, Mi Hongdou was surprised when a crew member came to call her back to the set so soon. Didn’t they usually have a break? And adjusting the cameras always took time…

Well… it was just a corpse…

Mi Hongdou obediently lay back down on the bed.

Why the quick change? Because Ji Junxin, with an uncontainable eagerness, had been staring at the crew. Although they didn’t understand her impatience, they quickly finished setting up.

Immersion was easy for Ji Junxin, but being pulled into a role by another actor’s performance, this was a new experience, an uncontrollable surge of emotion that almost made her blood boil, burning away her reason. And detaching, as always, was difficult. After the wait, she was still completely immersed.

Her mind, her heart, filled with the image of the young empress gazing at the door.

Wait, just wait a little longer, I’m coming…

Just as Ji Junxin was almost on the verge of tears, the cameras and the crew were ready, Mi Hongdou was in position, and they could start filming.

To push past the servants blocking her way and reach the Empress’s chamber, Miao Qianye, although her eyes were red, maintained her composure and authority as a Noble Consort, her voice sharp, even pushing aside those who tried to stop her.

Tears streamed down her face, betraying the vulnerability beneath her anger.

Despite the tears, her aura was powerful, and with her high rank, second only to the Empress, she barged in.

She rushed into the Empress’s chamber, then… stopped abruptly, seeing the wine pot and the cup on the table.

Her earlier anger, her urgency, all gone.

The facade of a dignified Noble Consort vanished.

The woman who slowly approached the table was trembling.

No aura of authority, no composure, just disbelief in her eyes, tears streaming down her face, her steps faltering.

She slowly walked towards the table, as if wanting to examine the pot and the cup more closely.

But as she got closer, she stopped, closed her eyes, and turned her head away.

Opening her eyes again, she didn’t look at the table, her steps now steady, as she walked towards the curtained bed.

Her hand, as she reached for the curtain, didn’t hesitate. But upon seeing the person lying on the bed, it started trembling uncontrollably.

The light curtain swayed slightly with the trembling of her right hand.

She held the curtain with one hand and reached for the Empress’s nose with the other.

A long, long moment. Her hand didn’t move.

Finally, as if confirming the Empress’s death, Miao Qianye withdrew her hand, stood up, and let the curtain fall.

Everyone remembered the earlier takes, she should now step back and collapse, crying, by the bed.

But she didn’t…

She just stood there, releasing the curtain.

As the cameraman waited for her to step back, ready to adjust the camera angle, Ji Junxin suddenly pulled back the curtain again, her movement so swift that it startled everyone.

And then… what surprised them even more was Ji Junxin’s deviation from the script…

Miao Qianye, who had just let the curtain fall, her expression blank, suddenly bent down, pulled back the curtain with her right hand, and grabbed the front of the young empress’s clothes with her left, pulling the lifeless body slightly upwards.

Her face was a mixture of anger and grief. And then, the anger faded… leaving only… immense sorrow.

Unlike her earlier rough movements, as she gently lowered the body back onto the bed, her touch was gentle, careful…

That sorrowful tenderness was heartbreaking, even the cameraman’s eyes stung.

The young empress lay still… Miao Qianye bent down and smoothed out her rumpled clothes, folding her hands over her abdomen. Then she sat down slowly, leaned over, and rested her forehead against the folded hands.

The bed was a prop, the curtain opposite it was also a prop, and another camera was filming from inside the curtains.

By now, the curtain had fallen, and the cameraman outside assumed the scene was over.

Only the cameraman inside knew… it wasn’t… because Ji Junxin, her head bowed, was trembling slightly, as if still crying.

As the outside cameraman looked at Director Pan, waiting for instructions, a muffled, choked sob came from behind the curtains, startling him.

Chapter 108: Little Secrets

When Qiao Rubai said, “The moment she heard your name, she frowned and asked, ‘Where’s Mi Hongdou?’” Mi Hongdou, lying on the bed, listening, couldn’t help but tremble.

Qiao Rubai had felt it was unfair, someone dying and leaving others devastated, while others watched helplessly. She had been angry at Mi Hongdou’s seemingly casual attitude towards death and immersion, wanting to show her the consequences of her foolishness, to make her understand.

But now, the warmth and dampness in her palm, Mi Hongdou’s trembling, made her realize that her words had indeed hit hard. And she herself was also reliving that painful memory.

Hurting both herself and the other, what was the point? Qiao Rubai’s hand slid from Mi Hongdou’s eyes, the dampness absorbed by the blanket.

Silence.

Mi Hongdou, tears streaming down her face, opened her eyes, although she hadn’t been given permission.

“She…” Mi Hongdou tried to speak, but her voice was choked with sobs, the words barely audible.

Qiao Rubai couldn’t understand her, but she could guess.

“You had just been carried away in an ambulance, she saw it with her own eyes. But minutes later, when the police started taking statements, and your name was mentioned, she looked at me, confused, and asked where you were. I was stunned, I didn’t know if she was asking about your body, or about you, or if she even knew what she was asking. Before I could react, the officer calmly explained, ‘Are you asking about Mi Hongdou, who fell from the wires? We’ve confirmed her death, and her body has been taken away by the ambulance. As it’s an unnatural death, there will be an autopsy before the family can claim the body.’ He took her question literally and answered it.”

Qiao Rubai knew Mi Hongdou was looking at her, but she didn’t meet her gaze, instead looking through the gap in the curtains at Ji Junxin, who was still so innocent and naive in this life, and continued her story, her voice calm. “But I think… that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She listened quietly to the officer, then, without saying a word, turned and walked away. The police were there to take statements, everyone was a witness, or rather, a suspect. She was supposed to give her statement, but she just walked away, and the officer, finding it strange, stopped her. I wanted to intervene, to explain, but before I could do anything, she looked back at the officer.”

Death was supposed to be the most impactful event. Mi Hongdou was the one who had fallen, her death horrific. But for Qiao Rubai, the most frightening moment that day had been Ji Junxin’s gaze when the officer grabbed her arm.

Qiao Rubai paused, her gaze shifting from Ji Junxin to Mi Hongdou.

“Do you know… what that look was like?” she asked, clenching her fists, the silk blanket wrinkling under the pressure.

Even with her blurry vision, unable to see Qiao Rubai’s expression clearly, Mi Hongdou could feel the heavy weight of her words. She tried to sit up, but her body was weak. Qiao Rubai, with just one finger, pushed her back down.

Mi Hongdou was forced to remain still.

“She turned around, her expression blank, her eyes empty, although looking at the officer, she didn’t seem to see anything, to feel anything. She was like a soulless doll… no, a broken, worn-out doll, about to fall apart. She looked at him with that empty gaze, and then, right in front of me… she fainted. The officer, still holding her wrist, didn’t even have time to react…” Qiao Rubai’s voice dropped, her eyes filled with an unseen fear.

Yes, fear.

That vivid memory, the scene replaying in her mind, Qiao Rubai felt like she was back there, the day Mi Hongdou died, the day Ji Junxin… broke.

Lost in her memories, Qiao Rubai fell silent.

And Mi Hongdou… if it weren’t for the tears silently streaming down her face, her still and lifeless form might have been mistaken for… death.

Ji Junxin, having waited outside the curtains, started to approach.

Qiao Rubai noticed.

She took a deep breath, pulling herself out of the painful memory, and glanced at Mi Hongdou, who seemed to have cried herself into a stupor. So, her attempt to deliver a slap in the face… had backfired.

“Hey, stop crying. Ji Junxin is coming.” Qiao Rubai nudged Mi Hongdou with her knee.

Mi Hongdou quickly wiped her face with her sleeve and sat up, peeking through the gap in the curtains.

Her vision blurred, but she could still see Ji Junxin slowly approaching.

“What… happened next…” Mi Hongdou grabbed Qiao Rubai’s knee, her gaze fixed on Ji Junxin outside.

“We went to the hospital. She was unconscious. The doctor said there was nothing physically wrong, that she probably fainted from shock, and she had a slightly sprained wrist. As for her mental state, they would have to wait until she woke up.” Qiao Rubai sighed and pulled her knee away from Mi Hongdou’s grasp. “That’s the end of the story.”

Mi Hongdou quickly grabbed her knee again. “And then?”

“And then… I arranged for the company to transfer a sum of money to your mother, along with your insurance payout, it should be enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life. But since we’re both back here now, that money is probably useless.” Qiao Rubai pulled her knee away again and moved towards the edge of the bed. “That’s it. We now share a secret, don’t tell anyone, you know the rules.”

To Mi Hongdou, this wasn’t the end of the story, it was just the beginning. If Qiao Rubai, like before, hadn’t acknowledged her rebirth, just hinted at it, it would have been fine. But she had said it, had… revealed those heartbreaking details… and now she wanted to leave without finishing the story? Mi Hongdou wouldn’t let her.

“Wait…” Unable to grab her knee, Mi Hongdou grabbed her sleeve. “Tell me the rest. I died, Ji Junxin was hospitalized, and then?”

Was she okay? What about my mother? …

So many things she hadn’t dared to think about since her rebirth, until today, when Qiao Rubai opened this Pandora’s box. Mi Hongdou realized that she still couldn’t let go of her past, she still wanted to know more.

Even if Qiao Rubai told her that she had been quickly forgotten after her death, Mi Hongdou still wanted to know if the people she cared about were okay. She wanted to know… was Ji Junxin okay?

But her hope was dashed.

Qiao Rubai, turning around, gently removed Mi Hongdou’s hand from her sleeve, her voice laced with displeasure. “And then? I don’t know.”

You don’t know?

Mi Hongdou was stunned, then grabbed Qiao Rubai’s clothes. “You don’t know? Why? Did something happen to Ji Junxin?” Qiao Rubai must be hiding something, Mi Hongdou’s tone accusatory.

Qiao Rubai heard the accusation. Even though she knew it was because of Mi Hongdou’s concern for Ji Junxin, she was still annoyed. Accusing me? You died and it’s my fault! And now you think I’m lying because I don’t know what happened next! You idiot! I can’t tell her about our murders yet, she’ll definitely give something away, and then I’ll alert the culprit and ruin everything!

Her earlier anger returned.

She roughly pushed Mi Hongdou’s hand away, her voice sharp. “I don’t know! Because after you died that morning, I also died that night! I even transferred money to your mother before I died! Ji Junxin was still unconscious in the hospital! You died first, so how would I know! Why don’t you just fly to heaven!”

She stormed out, leaving Mi Hongdou stunned and speechless, too shocked to even comment on Qiao Rubai’s dramatic outburst.

Although Qiao Rubai had seemed angry, Mi Hongdou instinctively felt that she wasn’t lying.

In one day… she and Qiao Rubai… both died?

Then… Ji Junxin in the hospital…

Mi Hongdou sat on the bed, the swaying curtain brushing against her face, unable to imagine Ji Junxin’s reaction when she woke up and learned about Qiao Rubai’s death.

Qiao Rubai angrily left Mi Hongdou. She knew she was just displacing her anger. She was actually angry at herself, for having rushed here to confront Mi Hongdou, only to be forced to relive that painful memory.

Her own death, Yang Lianyi’s injury, and… Ji Junxin waking up in the hospital, alone… Qiao Rubai couldn’t bear to think about it.

She was… jealous. Jealous of Mi Hongdou, who had died quickly, a fall from the wires, a brief moment of pain. Unlike her, who had been stabbed, slowly bleeding to death, watching as the person she loved took a knife for her, her fate unknown. Just a few hours apart, but Mi Hongdou’s death had been so much easier. And she hadn’t had to witness Ji Junxin’s devastation… It wasn’t fair!

Qiao Rubai left the bed, still fuming, and ran into Ji Junxin.

“What were you doing in there? For so long? What did you say to her?” Ji Junxin had been waiting anxiously. Qiao Rubai had told her not to follow, so she hadn’t, but after a while, she had started to approach, hoping to go unnoticed…

“Just… talking,” Qiao Rubai said, avoiding Ji Junxin’s gaze, her voice vague.

After telling Mi Hongdou the story, Qiao Rubai couldn’t help but think of Ji Junxin’s even greater devastation after her own death, alone and without comfort… The thought made her heart ache. And with Ji Junxin’s approach, the ache intensified. She didn’t even have the energy to look at Ji Junxin, let alone talk to her.

So, after her vague reply, and before Ji Junxin could ask any more questions, Qiao Rubai quickly said, “I… have something to do at the company, I have to leave.”

“Didn’t you just arrive? It’s a five-hour drive… You can’t drive ten hours in one day, can you? Can’t you leave tomorrow?” Ji Junxin was surprised. Qiao Rubai had been here for less than half an hour.

Ji Junxin’s concern warmed Qiao Rubai’s heart, but it also made her think of Ji Junxin in her previous life. Feeling uncomfortable, not wanting to show it, she shook her head. “It’s urgent. I have to go. I’ll visit you again next time. You know you get easily immersed in your roles. Don’t get too into character for the scene after the Empress’s suicide, it can be… problematic. Don’t listen to Director Pan, he doesn’t understand how much effort it takes for you to detach. Your earlier performance was good. If he’s not satisfied, just do a few more takes, he’ll eventually give up. Don’t sacrifice yourself for his camera, okay?”

Qiao Rubai needed some space to calm down, to bury those painful memories. She couldn’t bear to talk to Ji Junxin anymore, but she still remembered the purpose of her visit, so she gave Ji Junxin some earnest advice.

After Ji Junxin agreed, Qiao Rubai practically fled.

Mi Hongdou, stunned, sat on the bed for a minute or two, then composed herself. She had wanted to ask Qiao Rubai about her own death, but Ji Junxin told her that Qiao Rubai had already left. She ran out, only catching a glimpse of Qiao Rubai’s car disappearing in the distance.

A five-hour drive, for a visit less than half an hour long… It was unbelievable.

But Mi Hongdou knew that Qiao Rubai’s reason for leaving wasn’t the “company business” she had mentioned. She probably… couldn’t bear to look at Ji Junxin in this life, couldn’t bear to think about what happened to her in the previous one.

Mi Hongdou also couldn’t bear to think about it, so she understood Qiao Rubai’s escape.

She had almost cried herself into a stupor behind the curtains earlier, so even after composing herself, her eyes were still red.

When she came out, Ji Junxin immediately noticed, but before she could ask, Mi Hongdou asked about Qiao Rubai, and then, after Ji Junxin answered, she ran out.

Ji Junxin, worried, followed. She saw Mi Hongdou stop, staring at Qiao Rubai’s car until it disappeared, then turn around.

And then she saw Ji Junxin, standing a few steps away, looking at her thoughtfully.

Mi Hongdou, having just acknowledged Qiao Rubai as a fellow time traveler, felt a little guilty, but looking at Ji Junxin, her heart ached.

Mi Hongdou’s expression was complex, and to Ji Junxin, it was even more so. This was the first time she had seen Mi Hongdou cry… and it was clearly related to Qiao Rubai. But why?

Ji Junxin couldn’t help but ask, “What happened between you two just now?”

Mi Hongdou shook her head, her voice vague. “Nothing…”

Ji Junxin, having been brushed off by Qiao Rubai earlier, now felt brushed off by Mi Hongdou as well. She asked directly, “You were crying, and you say nothing happened?”

Mi Hongdou didn’t know how to answer. Perhaps this was another reason why Qiao Rubai had left so quickly?

Qiao Rubai, driving back, suddenly sneezed and frowned, asking the driver to close the window a little.

Ji Junxin’s direct question and Mi Hongdou’s silence, a silent refusal to answer…

Ji Junxin didn’t press further and returned to the set.

Mi Hongdou instinctively took a few steps after her, then stopped. Chasing after her wasn’t difficult, the difficulty was… she didn’t know how to answer Ji Junxin’s question. Could she say, I was crying because I was heartbroken for you, for your sadness after my death?

Of course not. So, she stopped. She needed time to think.

Ji Junxin, walking back slowly, listening for any sounds behind her, heard Mi Hongdou’s approaching footsteps and smiled slightly. But then the footsteps stopped… and Ji Junxin, pouting, quickened her pace!

My best friend and the person I like have a secret, what should I do? Urgent! Waiting online!

Ji Junxin was unhappy, but she didn’t feel she had the right to ask, so she could only return to the set, frustrated.

Director Pan beckoned her eagerly.

Well, filming might distract me, she thought and walked over.

“Hey, I saw Xiaomi’s eyes were red earlier, was she crying?” Director Pan asked anxiously.

Since when was Director Pan so gossipy… Ji Junxin hesitated under his intense gaze, then replied vaguely, “I think so. But in this scene, she just plays a corpse, she doesn’t even appear on screen, so her red eyes shouldn’t affect the filming, don’t worry.” Although annoyed about their secret, she still instinctively protected Mi Hongdou.

“Who’s worried about the filming?” Director Pan’s expression relaxed, and he pointed outside. “Go get her. I just realized, her red eyes… the Empress’s suicide scene earlier, it lacked something! If the Empress, while resolutely taking the poison, also had red eyes, a hint of reluctance, it would be perfect! Go get her, before the redness fades!”

“…” Ji Junxin looked at Director Pan, speechless. Were they all ganging up to tease her?