Chapter 47 p1
Xue Ning, Xu Jingyu’s agent, had practically grown up with her.
Her father was the Xu family’s butler, and she had lived in the Xu residence since childhood.
Being the same age as Xu Jingyu, their lives had inevitably intertwined.
They had lived in the same house, attended the same schools, and participated in countless Xu family gatherings and events.
As adults, it was only natural that Xue Ning became Xu Jingyu’s agent and personal manager.
Even someone as aloof and emotionally detached as Xu Jingyu had, over the years, developed a certain familiarity with Xue Ning and their mutual friend, Meng Wanqing.
They were the only two people who weren’t completely intimidated by her.
So, in that moment, standing in the doorway, staring at the chaotic scene unfolding before her, Xue Ning debated her next course of action.
Should she succumb to the evils of capitalism, become a loyal servant, pretend she hadn’t seen anything, quietly close the door, and drag the witness, Meng Wanqing, away to be silenced?
Or should she be a righteous person, bravely confronting the demonic Xu Jingyu, rescuing the poor, helpless Xin Yao from her clutches?
She stood there, frozen in indecision, like a traveler at a crossroads.
Finally, seeing Xin Yao’s tear-streaked face, her heart aching with sympathy, she couldn’t ignore her conscience.
She took a deep breath and rushed into the room, throwing herself at Xu Jingyu’s feet.
“Miss, you’ve lost your mind! This is madness!”
“You’ve always been a bit… unusual, but at least you seemed human! What’s gotten into you?! Look at that poor girl! How could you do this to her?!”
Xue Ning’s dramatic outburst finally snapped Meng Wanqing out of her stupor.
She stepped into the room, gulping as she looked at the scene before her, the afternoon sunlight illuminating the chaos.
She rummaged through her bag, pulling out a stack of business cards.
“Yaoyao, I know some good lawyers! Sue her! Sue Xu Jingyu!”
The room erupted in chaos.
Xue Ning and Meng Wanqing, their voices overlapping, their chatter like a comedy duo, created a deafening cacophony.
Xu Jingyu, jolted back to reality, closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself.
Then, she unbuttoned the top button of her shirt, loosening her collar.
The sunlight revealed the throbbing vein in her forehead, her hand, still clutching the belt, its knuckles white.
It was clear that she was on the verge of losing control.
She kicked Xue Ning, her loyal servant, away, her usual composure shattered.
“Get out!”
She glared at them, her face half-hidden in shadow, her appearance almost as terrifying as the psychopathic doctor she had portrayed in the film.
“Who let you into my room?”
Meng Wanqing, feeling a surge of protectiveness towards her new friend, Xin Yao, found her voice, her fear momentarily forgotten.
“We… we had to stop you! We had to expose your crimes!”
They hadn’t intentionally barged in.
As Xu Jingyu’s agent, Xue Ning had a key to her room, in case of emergencies.
But Xu Jingyu was fiercely protective of her privacy, and Xue Ning rarely used it.
Today, however, she had needed an important document urgently and had used her key, after knocking repeatedly without a response.
They hadn’t heard the commotion inside.
Meng Wanqing’s boldness, however, earned her a cold stare from Xu Jingyu, her dark eyes like chips of ice.
Meng Wanqing’s legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the floor, whimpering inwardly: Yaoyao, I’m useless! I can’t save you!
Xue Ning was about to speak when Xu Jingyu’s cold voice cut through the air.
“Get out.”
They hesitated, looking at the scene before them, at Xin Yao still tied to the chair.
If they left, wouldn’t they be abandoning the poor little rabbit to the big, bad wolf?
But Xu Jingyu’s voice, even colder now, echoed through the room. “Don’t make me say it again.”
They were in trouble.
Xu Jingyu was truly angry.
Even her usual aloof indifference was terrifying.
If she truly lost control…
Xue Ning and Meng Wanqing shivered, a cold dread creeping down their spines.
Just then, Xin Yao finally managed to make a sound.
From the moment the door had opened, revealing Xue Ning and Meng Wanqing, her mind had gone blank.
While she and Xu Jingyu had been rehearsing, the scene, taken out of context, was easily misinterpreted.
But they had just been rehearsing! And she had thought her performance had been excellent!
She had tried to explain, but with Xu Jingyu’s tie still gagging her, she couldn’t speak.
And Xue Ning and Meng Wanqing, the two clowns, had already jumped to conclusions, their imaginations running wild.
Xin Yao’s anxiety grew, her eyes filling with tears, her appearance even more pitiful.
If this continued, Xu Jingyu’s reputation would be ruined!
And while Xu Jingyu certainly had a dominant streak, Xin Yao didn’t want to be the submissive one!
And she didn’t want their reputations tarnished.
What if Xue Ning and Meng Wanqing, from now on, assumed they had a… special relationship?
Just as Xu Jingyu was about to throw them out, Xin Yao, desperate, finally managed to spit out the tie, her voice echoing through the room.
“Wait! We were just rehearsing! It’s not what you think!”
The room fell silent.
Xue Ning and Meng Wanqing turned to look at her.
Xue Ning, still sprawled on the floor, her eyes widening with a dawning realization, finally understood.
“Rehearsing… that kind of scene? In broad daylight? You guys are wild!”
Xin Yao: Oh my god, this is getting worse! Why do they still think we’re doing something inappropriate?!
Meng Wanqing, however, was still confused. “What kind of scene?”
Xue Ning covered her ears.
“Don’t listen, sweetie. It’s not for children.”
“Heaven’s Gate!” Xin Yao exclaimed, exasperated. “The scene from ‘Heaven’s Gate,’ where the doctor whips the abusive mother!”
Xue Ning, as Xu Jingyu’s agent, was familiar with her filmography. Xin Yao’s words triggered her memory, and she recalled the scene.
Then, she looked at the room, at the props, at Xin Yao tied to the chair.
Oh, it did look like that scene.
She hesitated. “Was I… being inappropriate?”
Xu Jingyu, having had enough of their antics, walked over and, grabbing them by their collars, threw them out of the room.
“Get out, you nosy busybodies!”
As they stumbled out of the room, Meng Wanqing was still asking, “What scene? What were they rehearsing?”
Xue Ning sighed. “It’s none of your business. Run along now, sweetie.”
With the interruption over, the room finally quiet again, Xu Jingyu closed the door and walked over to Xin Yao, kneeling down to untie her.
The two expensive black ties, now crumpled and wrinkled, lay on the floor. Xin Yao rubbed her wrists, finally free.
Xu Jingyu, however, didn’t stand up. She remained kneeling before Xin Yao, looking up at her.
The sunlight streaming through the window illuminated her face, her gold-rimmed glasses giving her a scholarly air.
And the open collar of her white shirt, revealing her delicate collarbone, added a touch of sensuality to her usually aloof demeanor.
She looked at Xin Yao’s flushed face and suddenly burst out laughing.
She had smiled before, but it had always been a small, almost imperceptible smile. She had never laughed like this.
But now, her laughter was unrestrained, her eyes crinkling at the corners, her lips curving upwards, even her usually cold and distant eyes sparkling with amusement.
Like a snow lotus blooming on a mountaintop, her laughter was a beautiful, unexpected sight.
Then, unable to contain herself, her laughter intensified, her face buried in Xin Yao’s lap, her body shaking with mirth.
Xin Yao, initially embarrassed by the misunderstanding, had pouted.
“You’re still laughing.”
But seeing Xu Jingyu’s unrestrained laughter, she also started to laugh, the awkwardness of the situation giving way to amusement.
And Xu Jingyu seemed different.
In her previous life, as Pei Yu, she had always seemed shrouded in a gloomy mist, her smiles rare and fleeting.
But now, she smiled more often, her expressions more open and unguarded.
This uninhibited laughter, however, was a first.
It made Xin Yao feel less embarrassed, the situation now more comical than mortifying.
She wrapped her arms around Xu Jingyu, and they sat there, laughing together in the sunlight.
Then, Xu Jingyu lifted her head, her fingers gently tracing Xin Yao’s neck, her lips finding hers in a soft, lingering kiss.
Xin Yao tilted her head back, surrendering to the kiss.
The sunlight seemed to intensify, bathing them in a warm, golden glow.
To Xin Yao’s relief, she didn’t encounter Xue Ning or Meng Wanqing for the next few days.
Xu Jingyu, considerate as always, had probably kept them away, not wanting to embarrass Xin Yao.
And Xin Yao, not one to be easily discouraged, continued to work on her acting, seeking Xu Jingyu’s guidance, determined to overcome her plateau.
Director Gao, maintaining her slow and deliberate pace, kept the filming schedule relaxed.
A month passed, autumn giving way to winter, the air growing colder.
And their scenes became more demanding.
Xin Yao’s days were now filled with filming, her mornings starting early on set.
And the relationship between Lu Duanjing and Wen Sigu, the two female leads, continued to evolve.
After Wen Sigu agreed to teach Lu Duanjing how to write, their interactions became more frequent.
Lu’s father, eager to strengthen their ties with the Wen family, not only allowed Lu Duanjing to visit Wen Sigu, but even encouraged it.
But Director Gao wasn’t just interested in their love story. She wanted to portray the characters’ growth and development, their impact on the world around them.
Lu’s mother had come from a humble background, her family not wealthy, or she wouldn’t have married into the declining Lu family.
Now, her beauty faded, she was practically invisible to Lu’s father, a forgotten relic of his past.
Even Lu Duanjing had been denied an education, let alone her mother.
They were trapped in a world of rigid traditions and social expectations, their lives confined to the four walls of the Lu residence.
Their days were monotonous, their futures predictable, their lives a seemingly endless cycle of quiet desperation.
Lu Duanjing wanted to bring some light into their dreary existence.
So, after each lesson with Wen Sigu, she would visit her mother’s room and teach her what she had learned.
Her mother, usually so passive and unassuming, was surprisingly eager to learn.
One evening, after her lesson with Wen Sigu, Lu Duanjing, feeling hungry, went to get something to eat.
Passing by her mother’s room, she saw the light still on and asked the servant why her mother hadn’t gone to bed yet.
The servant replied, “Madam is practicing her writing. She said she won’t sleep until she can write beautifully.”
Lu Duanjing’s heart swelled with emotion.
She stood outside her mother’s window, watching her silhouette in the soft light, her eyes shining like candle flames.
Then, her cousin came to visit.
Her cousin was a typical woman of that era, her life defined by obedience and subservience.
She had obeyed her father before marriage, and now she obeyed her husband and her in-laws, her days filled with endless chores and the care of her children.
For women like her, those who advocated for freedom and independence were dangerous rebels, their behavior improper and unladylike.
After all, what greater aspiration could a woman have than a good marriage? A bad marriage was a fate worse than death.
Why?
Because that was how it had always been.
But no one had ever told them that it didn’t have to be that way.
One day, Lu Duanjing had a sudden inspiration. As her cousin visited, she took out some paper and a brush, saying, “Cousin, let me teach you how to write.”
Her cousin, as if faced with a dangerous beast, recoiled, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Me?”
“I can’t write! I’ll just ruin your paper!”
Lu Duanjing pulled her closer.
“Why not? Ms. Wen said everyone has the right to learn. Everyone should learn.”
“Cousin, let me teach you how to write your name.”
Your name.
The words made her cousin pause, her gaze fixed on the blank sheet of paper, its whiteness a stark contrast to the dim room, a symbol of hope and possibility.
She walked towards the table, her movements hesitant.
Lu Duanjing took her hand, guiding her as she slowly wrote her name.
The brushstrokes, dark and bold, left their mark on the paper, a tangible representation of her existence, a proof that she had lived.
Her cousin, looking at the crooked characters, her eyes filling with tears, reached out hesitantly, as if to touch them, but stopped just short of the paper.
Zheng Qiu Yan.
For the first time in her life, she knew what her name looked like.
Her mother’s diligence and her cousin’s enthusiasm made learning even more enjoyable for Lu Duanjing.
She went to Wen Sigu’s school every day, like a diligent little student.
And then she would teach her mother and cousin what she had learned, sharing her newfound knowledge.
Even some of the servants started learning from her in secret. Perhaps, one day, they would all be able to read!
But sometimes, there were unexpected interruptions.
One day, Lu Duanjing was supposed to meet with Wen Sigu, but it started raining heavily.
Knowing Wen Sigu’s dedication, Lu Duanjing knew she would be waiting for her at the school, probably trapped in her classroom.
Without hesitation, she grabbed her umbrella and ventured out into the rain.
By the time she reached the school, she was soaked to the bone.
Her pink dress clung to her slender frame, her face pale, her appearance delicate and vulnerable in the soft light.
But for a young lady of her social standing, her disheveled appearance was a breach of decorum.
Wen Sigu, worried about her, had been waiting for her, but she hadn’t expected her to come in such weather.
Seeing her drenched clothes and pale face, she rushed towards her.
“I told you not to come! Why are you here?”
Lu Duanjing, holding her dripping umbrella, smiled at her, her voice soft.
“You were waiting for me. I had to come.”
“Even in the rain.”
Wen Sigu knew her well. Despite her delicate appearance, she was stubborn and determined.
Afraid that she would catch a cold, Wen Sigu led her to her office, urging her to change into dry clothes.
But as Lu Duanjing tried to unbutton her dress, the button at the back of her neck was stuck.
Wen Sigu, waiting outside, called out, concerned.
“Duanjing, are you alright?”
Lu Duanjing, her slender fingers adorned with a jade bracelet, paused, her gaze lowered.
Then, she turned and parted the white curtain, her eyes, soft and luminous in the dim light, meeting Wen Sigu’s.
“I can’t undo my button.”
She wouldn’t have said such a thing to anyone else.
But with Ms. Wen, there were no secrets, no boundaries.
She couldn’t undo her button.
Wen Sigu, usually so composed, was momentarily flustered.
“Do you… want me to help you?”
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