Chapter 62 p1
“[They’re dating], they’re absolutely dating! If they’re not, I’ll do 33 backflips, spin around in circles, stand on my head, and wash my hair upside down!”
“If they’re not real, then this world is fake! (Screaming, rolling around on the floor dramatically)”
“Look at how fast Xu Laoshi is walking! She’s so eager to see Yaoyao!”
“And that lovesick expression! She can’t bear to be apart from Yaoyao for even a few hours! She misses her so much!”
“You two lovebirds, tsk.”
This was a secret online group dedicated to shipping Xin Yao and Xu Jingyu, their real-person fan fiction, or RPS, thriving with almost a thousand members.
How did they know that Xu Jingyu and Xin Yao were always together? They didn’t. The truth didn’t matter.
In their eyes, being in the same country meant they were living together. Sharing the same IP address? They were probably doing unspeakable things.
At this moment, they were passionately discussing the latest paparazzi photos of Xu Jingyu at the airport, her expression tired and distraught.
Xu Jingyu, eager to see Xin Yao, had taken the first available flight, her private jet unavailable on such short notice.
She hadn’t bothered with a disguise, and the photos had quickly circulated online, causing a frenzy among their shippers.
The origin of their ship was rather unusual.
Initially, they hadn’t been fans of either Xin Yao or Xu Jingyu, but of the director, the screenwriter, or simply fans of cinema in general.
They had been following the production of “Unseen Spring,” eagerly consuming every bit of news and promotional material.
And they had inevitably noticed the two female leads.
They were both so beautiful, their chemistry undeniable, their every interaction a spark that ignited their imaginations.
Many had fallen deep into the rabbit hole of shipping them.
But Xu Jingyu’s fanbase was massive.
And Xin Yao’s popularity had also surged after the recent scandals.
And her fans, fiercely protective of their beloved idol, having witnessed her suffering, were ready to defend her against any perceived slight.
So, the shippers, their interpretations of Xin Yao and Xu Jingyu’s interactions often based on wishful thinking rather than reality, had remained hidden in the shadows, afraid of incurring the wrath of either fanbase.
Until that photo surfaced.
Director Gao was always careful to keep the set closed, but the paparazzi were persistent, their methods often unconventional.
A photo, taken during the kissing scene in the snowy forest, when the zombie crew had been watching from the wall, had been leaked online.
It was a beautiful shot, capturing the intimacy of the moment, Xu Jingyu’s arm around Xin Yao’s waist, her head turned slightly, her gaze sharp and protective, like a predator guarding its prey.
The paparazzi, startled by her gaze, their hand trembling, had captured the scene, the falling snow blurring the background, the two women in sharp focus, their embrace a silent language.
The photo had immediately trended online.
[Xu Laoshi is so hot! That look! Step on me, Mommy!]
[Yaoyao is so small and cute! She looks so soft and cuddly!]
[Xu Laoshi’s hands are so beautiful! Long, slender fingers!]
[Xu Jingyu is truly a goddess! She’s breathtaking!]
The shippers had gone wild.
[That’s from the kissing scene! Look, her lips are red! They must have kissed so passionately!]
[That embrace! So tight!]
[Protecting his wife from the paparazzi? So possessive!]
[That look is like, ‘Dare to look at my wife, and I’ll kill you!’]
[I can’t wait for the movie! I need to see this scene!]
The photo had fueled the ship, their fanbase growing even before the movie’s release.
But the two actresses’ respective fanbases weren’t pleased.
Xu Jingyu’s fans, like their idol, were mostly silent, but their numbers were vast, their power undeniable.
They were vehemently opposed to shipping, believing that no one was worthy of their goddess, that any attempt to link her romantically with another person was an insult, a cheap attempt to gain attention.
Xin Yao’s fans were also protective, their beloved idol having suffered so much. Men were the enemy!
As for women, they hesitated, then decided: No!
Our baby has suffered enough! Focus on your career, Yaoyao! Don’t get involved with anyone!
So, when the rumors of their relationship surfaced, both fanbases had been quick to deny them.
The two fanbases, initially friendly due to their shared interest in the film, were now at odds.
But the two actresses themselves had remained silent.
Xu Jingyu was notoriously reclusive, her fans often going months, even years, without seeing or hearing from her.
And they knew she disliked drama.
Xin Yao, after the recent scandals, had also been avoiding social media.
Her fans, wanting to protect her, hadn’t pressured her, not wanting to expose her to further online hate.
So, both sides had maintained a tense truce, their disagreements simmering beneath the surface.
Until the photo surfaced.
Both fanbases, ready to unleash their fury on each other, had paused, their anger momentarily forgotten.
[That’s a beautiful photo, though.]
[The atmosphere is amazing.]
[It’s a bit blurry. Does anyone have the original?]
[Fine, I’ll say it. I’m shipping them!]
Some, however, remained loyal to their respective idols, refusing to acknowledge the ship.
[Focus on Xu Laoshi’s new movie, “Unseen Spring,” coming this winter! Don’t pay attention to her private life!]
[We respect and admire Ms. Xu. Please don’t spread rumors.]
Regardless of their intentions, the photo had attracted a large number of new shippers.
Some were simply drawn to their beauty, others believed they were actually dating, and some were simply curious onlookers, their interest piqued by the drama.
That night, a new fan forum dedicated to their ship was created, its name a poetic combination of their names: Yao Tai Yu Meng, their love a beautiful dream.
And just a few days later, the paparazzi photos of Xu Jingyu at the airport, her expression tired and distraught, had surfaced, fueling the rumors of their relationship.
Xu Jingyu rarely appeared in public, and these photos, capturing her vulnerability, her apparent distress, had sparked a frenzy of speculation.
And she was flying to Country A, where Xin Yao was!
The shippers’ radar had gone wild.
[What happened? Did they have a fight? Xu Laoshi looks so sad!]
[But Yaoyao seems to be in a good mood. Fans in Country A saw her at the airport, and she was smiling and waving. And there are photos of her at the fashion show. She looks fine.]
[Then what’s going on?]
[Maybe they fell in love on set, and now that filming is over, they’re breaking up?]
[Is Xu Laoshi flying there to win her girlfriend back?]
[And look at her expression! She’s clearly the one who got dumped! She even cancelled a prior engagement to fly to Country A! This is some serious drama!]
[This is like a scene from a movie! The aloof ice queen, brought to her knees by love!]
[Yaoyao, how could you break her heart?!]
[Seriously, Ms. Xu, you’re so in love!]
Xin Yao, however, was unaware of the online frenzy.
Her world, at this moment, revolved around Xu Jingyu.
As she stepped forward and embraced Xu Jingyu, her words a promise of forever, Xu Jingyu had frozen, her slightly red-rimmed eyes widening in surprise, her mind momentarily blank.
She had thought she had misheard, her gaze falling on Xin Yao’s face, nestled against her shoulder.
Xin Yao, looking up at her, her finger gently tracing the faint redness around Xu Jingyu’s eyes, smiled softly.
“I’m serious. We’ll get married tomorrow, crybaby.”
Having heard Meng Wanqing’s analysis of the situation, Xu Jingyu had been prepared for the worst, for a heartbreaking rejection. Xin Yao’s words were a welcome surprise.
She instinctively tightened her embrace, her voice barely a whisper.
“Am I dreaming?”
Xin Yao, a playful smile on her lips, stood on tiptoe and gently nipped at Xu Jingyu’s neck.
“Does it hurt?”
Xu Jingyu blinked.
“No.”
Xin Yao grinned.
“Then you must be dreaming.”
Xu Jingyu, finally smiling, her earlier anxiety and fear melting away, buried her face in Xin Yao’s neck, like a rain-soaked puppy seeking comfort.
“Bite me again, then. Just to be sure.”
To be sure that this was real, that you’re here with me.
They spent the rest of the night together, researching wedding procedures online, their excitement keeping them awake, their conversation a soft murmur in the darkness.
They flew back to China the next morning, spent the morning preparing the necessary documents, then, that afternoon, quietly went to the registry office and got married.
As they sat in the car afterwards, Xu Jingyu’s expression was calm, but her eyes still held a slightly dazed look, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.
Xin Yao, sitting in the passenger seat, looked at her, a playful smile on her face, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Wife, back to reality.”
Her voice, sweet and light like a strawberry candy, sent a shiver down Xu Jingyu’s spine, a warmth spreading through her chest, chasing away the shadows, like a flower blooming in the sunlight.
Xu Jingyu’s gaze softened as she looked at Xin Yao, taking her hand and holding it against her cheek.
“Yaoyao, I’m yours now.”
And then, everything calmed down.
Xu Jingyu, now married, was practically glowing with happiness, the unknown Pei Yu no longer a threat.
Having never been particularly career-driven, her attention now solely focused on Xin Yao, she spent all her time with her, neglecting her duties at the Xu Corporation.
But Xin Yao still had to work. After “Unseen Spring,” she had been looking for new scripts, but nothing had caught her eye.
“Unseen Spring,” with its excellent script, its talented cast and crew, had set a high bar, and the other scripts she had received seemed pale in comparison.
Xin Yao was ambitious. She didn’t want to peak with her debut film, her career a flash in the pan.
She wanted to keep growing, each role a stepping stone to greater heights, and she didn’t want her second project to be a disappointment.
So, she decided to wait, to see how “Unseen Spring” performed, to let her work speak for itself.
If she was successful, if she won awards, then the opportunities would come.
And so, they waited, spring turning into summer, then summer into autumn.
They hadn’t had a wedding ceremony yet.
Partly because they didn’t want their relationship to overshadow the film’s release, and partly because Xin Yao wanted to complete her mission, to send Bai Zhi on her way, before making their marriage public.
They had only told a few close friends: Sister Wang and Chen Jia on Xin Yao’s side, and Xue Ning and Meng Wanqing on Xu Jingyu’s. They had celebrated with a quiet dinner.
Sister Wang and Chen Jia had been both surprised and overjoyed, tears streaming down their faces as they expressed their happiness for Xin Yao, their hopes for her future.
Xue Ning and Meng Wanqing, however, had been even more dramatic, their tears and laughter a mix of relief and disbelief, celebrating the fact that the Ice Queen had finally found someone, that she wouldn’t be alone forever.
Xu Jingyu, her face darkening at their teasing, had grabbed them by their collars and thrown them out of the room.
During the months leading up to the film’s release, “Unseen Spring” had been in post-production, Xin Yao and Xu Jingyu occasionally returning to the studio for voiceovers, sometimes having dinner with Director Gao.
Under Director Gao’s watchful eye, the editing had been completed, and the film had passed the censors.
Finally, that winter, “Unseen Spring” was released.
On the day of the premiere, the excitement was palpable.
Director Gao had a reputation for excellence, her films always highly anticipated.
And “Unseen Spring,” a project she had been working on for years, her passion and dedication evident in every frame, had generated even more buzz, both within the industry and among the general public.
Especially with Xu Jingyu, the reclusive movie queen, starring in a same-sex romance, a film with a slightly more explicit and controversial theme.
Her presence alone was a major draw.
And with a supporting cast of veteran actors, the film’s acting credentials were impeccable.
As for Xin Yao, her talent still unknown, the expectations were high, her fans eager to see her performance.
So, they had come in droves, determined to support her, the premiere a sold-out event.
The crowd, a mix of media, fans, and industry insiders, filled the red carpet area, their excitement almost palpable.
Inside, Xin Yao and Xu Jingyu, dressed in elegant gowns, their makeup flawless, chatted with the director and the screenwriter.
It had been a while since they had last seen each other, their reunion a celebration of their shared journey, their anticipation for the film’s premiere mingled with a touch of nervousness.
Finally, it was time. They took a deep breath and walked towards the red carpet.
Director Gao and the screenwriter, their partnership legendary, were the first to appear, their arrival greeted with cheers and applause.
Then, it was the two female leads, Xin Yao and Xu Jingyu, their arms linked, their smiles radiant as they walked towards the flashing lights and the cheering crowd.
Their open display of affection, their casual intimacy, silenced any doubts about their relationship.
The media and the fans went wild, their cameras flashing, their voices a chorus of excitement.
“Xu Laoshi, look this way!”
“Yaoyao, smile!”
“Yaoyao, we love you!”
“Xu Laoshi, it’s so good to see you again!”
Xin Yao, her smile bright, waved to the crowd, her arm still linked with Xu Jingyu’s, as they entered the theater.
The theater was packed, the audience a mix of ordinary moviegoers, wealthy investors, media, film critics, influencers, and fans.
They sat there, their anticipation growing, waiting for the film to begin.
Director Gao, not one for long speeches, simply let the host give a brief introduction, then the lights dimmed, the screen flickering to life.
In the quiet darkness, Xin Yao looked up at the screen, her palms slightly sweaty, ready to watch her first film.
As the opening music began, the person sitting beside her, her lover, her partner, gently took her hand, her touch a silent reassurance.
Xin Yao’s heart calmed, and she squeezed Xu Jingyu’s hand, her own anticipation growing.
Jiao Lan was a renowned film critic and the editor-in-chief of a prestigious film magazine.
She was known for her sharp wit, her discerning eye, and her thick-rimmed glasses, a permanent fixture on her face.
Few films had earned her praise over the years, her standards notoriously high.
Having heard that “Unseen Spring” was set in the Republican era, she had immediately identified several key themes:
Tragedy, social upheaval, tradition, rebellion, the clash between old and new.
It would probably be a sad story.
She didn’t dislike happy endings, but she was even more critical of tragedies.
A poorly executed tragedy was simply manipulative, its sadness hollow and meaningless.
Seeing her serious expression, her friend, a fellow film critic, sitting beside her, chuckled.
“Don’t be so tense.”
Jiao Lan shook her head.
“I’m an editor, and you’re a critic. We’re not just here to watch a movie. We’re working. We have to be objective.”
Her friend, knowing her unwavering dedication, simply smiled, not arguing.
As they chatted, the opening credits rolled, and the film began.
Jiao Lan sat up straight, adjusting her glasses, her gaze fixed on the screen.
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