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.
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