Chapter 71

After a long stretch of silence, Tang Shiyu finally realized that her image and persona in her daughter’s eyes had taken a bit of a hit. She pressed her lips together and tossed out, pretending to be busy, “I’m done talking to you. I have a meeting,” before hanging up on Xu Chun.

Xu Chun stood there clutching her phone, then nodded as if a lightbulb had gone on, murmuring to herself, “So that’s how it is.”

So that was how it worked in yuri novels. Everyone chased true love this boldly and bluntly.

She caught on immediately and instinctively wanted to message Qin Yao to invite her to dinner later. But just as she finished typing it into the chat box, it hit her. Qin Yao had come straight back from abroad without a break and still hadn’t rested.

So she quickly deleted the message, planning to wait until Qin Yao had rested up.

But the delay dragged on, and it wasn’t until several days later that Xu Chun remembered again. She pursed her lips and stared at her phone screen, thinking, I still have work anyway and can’t get away to meet up right now, so I might as well wait until I’m completely finished.

Having talked herself into it with that twisted logic, Xu Chun happily picked up the script beside her.

Today’s schedule was almost entirely her scenes with He Qingli. It began with a five a.m. wake-up for makeup, styling, and travel. By the time she finally arrived on set, the sky was already tinged with the faint gray of dawn.

Earlier, when she and He Qingli had each been sitting in their own trailers, she hadn’t noticed; but now that they’d both come out and met on set, Xu Chun could see that He Qingli’s exhaustion was plain as day.

The skin under her eyes had a faint grayish-blue tinge; even with concealer it was still somewhat visible. A weary face, dull eyes, slightly knitted brows—she looked exactly like someone who’d pulled an all-nighter. Xu Chun couldn’t help but walk over. “You had insomnia last night, didn’t you? Something happened, and it’s about Fu Xin.”

The certainty in her tone pulled He Qingli’s thoughts back to reality. He Qingli nodded, then shook her head, clearly reluctant to say more. But when her gaze met Xu Chun’s serious expression, her tightly pressed lips slowly loosened, and she finally nodded. “My parents saw the rumors about me and Fu Xin online.”

Actually, ever since the dating show began, there had always been fans shipping them online, quite a lot of them, in fact. But in an age where scripts and performances were everywhere, most people remained skeptical. Since the two of them had only been in the early stages of getting to know each other back then, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary, so her parents hadn’t said anything.

Making money was nothing to be ashamed of.

But later, as time went on, they contacted each other more often, and their feelings slowly warmed. Though neither had explicitly confessed their love, the ambiguous, romantic atmosphere radiating from their every gesture and movement had become strikingly obvious, impossible for bystanders to ignore.

Although He Qingli took thorough precautions every time she went out with Fu Xin, bundling up from head to toe so completely that even her own mother probably wouldn’t recognize her, her fame was what it was. The paparazzi weren’t about to stop tracking her because of it.

During their dates, she had to take off her mask to eat, and after a movie or an outing, Fu Xin would always thoughtfully walk her home. Though they never did anything particularly intimate, in the paparazzi’s eyes this was already a tabloid story worth chasing.

What’s more, she and Fu Xin were long past being ordinary people, and their addresses could be found with a little digging.

So as long as the paparazzi were patient enough, the two of them would eventually slip up and get caught on camera.

He Qingli’s manager had already issued a statement on Weibo clarifying that their relationship was just friendship, but the paparazzi clearly didn’t buy it. They trailed them day after day, until that kind of salacious gossip landed on He Qingli’s parents’ phones.

He Qingli’s parents had long since chosen a fiancé for her, but she refused to live a life whose end she could see at a glance. She refused to let anyone casually dictate her life, even her closest kin, her own parents.

So to resist the marriage, she’d run away from home without a second thought, been discovered by chance by a talent scout, and from there fought her way through the entertainment industry alone, supporting herself. In all the years since leaving home, she hadn’t spent a single cent of her family’s money; even during holidays, she’d made a point of sending her parents red envelopes to repay them for raising her. But even so, her parents hadn’t softened in the slightest.

They either threatened to disown her or tried to force her home to marry obediently and do her part for the family.

He Qingli had held out this long. How could she suddenly compromise? If she were going to bow her head, she would have accepted her fate from the start.

So all along, she and her parents had been locked in a stalemate. Neither could convince the other, and neither was willing to give ground.

Normally, they ignored each other and lived their own lives—until last night, when her parents showed up out of the blue, furious, and berated her, calling her unfilial and saying she had no self-respect or decency out there. Only after enduring a bewildering scolding did He Qingli finally get the reason out of her mother.

Looking at that fabricated Tudou News post from a month ago, He Qingli felt nothing but despair. She was sure her parents had seen those rumors about her long ago but hadn’t made a move then. They’d only come to her now. That left only one explanation: the marriage partner they’d chosen for her was pressing for the wedding.

Apart from that, He Qingli truly couldn’t think of any reason her parents would suddenly make such a fuss over rumors from so long ago.

Last night, she’d argued with her parents for over an hour. After the call ended, she couldn’t calm down for a long time. All kinds of shackles kept binding her tight; her feelings swung back and forth between reason and impulse until she could barely breathe.

She badly wanted to throw caution to the wind and act purely on her own wishes, but when reason returned, she became painfully clear-headed. Some things could be avoided for a while, but never for a lifetime. Life didn’t become smooth sailing just because she kept busy. She and Fu Xin had to survive, and survival cost money everywhere. If she acted rashly on impulse, the final result would surely be unsatisfactory.

Perhaps even her relationship with Fu Xin would wear away in the daily grind of ordinary life.

He Qingli tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep because of it. She was heartbroken over her parents’ cold indifference and their total disregard for her feelings, and she grieved over her own inadequacy, wallowing in self-pity.

With such tangled, agonizing emotions, after a whole night of struggle, He Qingli had finally worn herself down to this listless, haggard state.

After He Qingli calmly finished explaining all this, Xu Chun gently raised a hand and rubbed the back of He Qingli’s head. She was taller than He Qingli and wore a serious expression, so even a slightly intimate gesture like that wouldn’t make anyone read too much into it.

Xu Chun ached for what He Qingli had been through. Her tone was uncharacteristically serious and gentle. “You’ve already done very well.” Xu Chun looked at her. “Rebellion takes a lot out of you. And you’re far from your parents—they can’t reach you for the time being. So right now, why don’t we vent some of that passion?”

“Deal with each problem as it comes, and everything will work itself out in the end.”

He Qingli followed Xu Chun’s gaze to the pile of prop guns and prop daggers. “...”

That kind of venting was dangerous. If she lost control even a little, there’d be blood.

But with Xu Chun beside her, deflecting her attention with jokes and banter and being especially serious and forceful when acting opposite her, He Qingli had no choice but to suppress the turmoil and restlessness in her heart and force herself into the zone so she could match Xu Chun’s performance perfectly.

Her place in the cast was something Xu Chun had fought for. If she failed to perform well at such a key moment, she wouldn’t just let down Xu Chun’s expectations. When it aired, her failure would likely affect Xu Chun’s reputation too.

So He Qingli temporarily set aside her personal feelings and threw a hundred and twenty percent of her effort into filming. She read lines, memorized them, redid her makeup when it smeared, and got back up after falling. Staying up all night and the intense physical exertion left her numb all over, her body almost devoid of sensation.

She was spinning like a top, her mind with no spare moment to wander. By the time filming finally ended, all her strength drained away like a receding tide, and deep exhaustion swept over her. Her assistant had just cried out upon discovering the injuries on her skin from who knew when, and the next second, He Qingli’s eyes closed and she fainted on the spot.

Xu Chun hurriedly called for the medical staff, then carefully composed a message to Fu Xin: 【Lizi just fainted.】

Fu Xin replied instantly, panicked: 【Where are you now? I’m coming right away.】

After sending the location, Xu Chun stepped back and put down her phone, then looked up at the doctor. “How is she?”

“Nothing serious. Two days of rest and she’ll be fine.” With that, the doctor set up an IV on the spot and had the assistant carry He Qingli to the trailer. “Keep her warm.”

The assistant nodded repeatedly, took a brand-new blanket from the trunk, and covered He Qingli with it, then sat to the side, looking worried as she communicated with the manager.

Xu Chun looked at He Qingli’s brows, still tightly furrowed even in unconsciousness, and sighed quietly to herself.

He Qingli was ill for two whole days. After fainting, she didn’t wake until the evening of the next day. Xu Chun had taken leave to stay by her side and care for her. Seeing her awake, Xu Chun couldn’t resist teasing, “You’re about to become a regular at the hospital.”

“Can’t help it.” He Qingli still had it in her to joke with Xu Chun. “I was precious and pampered as a child. I’ve never known hardship.”

“The biggest hardship I’ve known in this life is running away from home to support myself and being forced into marriage.”

“All right, enough.” Xu Chun couldn’t help but shoot her a sidelong glance. “Little Fu is already here. She just went out to heat up some porridge for you.” She stood up. “This extra person here won’t disturb you two any longer.”

He Qingli smiled. “Thank you.”

Xu Chun nodded with feigned indifference and waved. “I’m off.”

But the moment she turned around, she immediately put on a tearful, about-to-cry expression. Some people had partners; some people were all alone. Her fate was truly three times more bitter than huanglian!

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Qin Yao called. “Your filming ends next month, doesn’t it?”

Xu Chun was surprised she knew, but didn’t think much of it and nodded. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll come pick you up.” Qin Yao’s low, husky voice drifted through the phone. “And we’ll go home together for a meal.”

Xu Chun’s heart leaped with joy. Qin Yao wanted to see her? And she was specifically coming to pick her up and take her home on the day she wrapped? She was instantly filled with anticipation and nearly agreed on the spot, her affection for Qin Yao bubbling over. But a moment later, something occurred to her, and she sensed something was off.

Wait... go home together for a meal?

Xu Chun’s expression turned somewhat bewildered. Whose home? And what kind of meal was this supposed to be?