After A Secret Marriage Agreement With A Rival Omega - Chapter 86

Chapter 86

◎ “I took one bite and it flowed out! Look!” ◎

Before leaving, Jian Jixing took a stroll to the balcony before finally sending a message to Sheng Ruxi on her phone: [The two sets of bedsheets from yesterday are already dry. It’s okay.]

The reply came back quickly, carrying a hint of annoyance: [You didn’t need to tell me that!!!!!]

Condemned by Sheng Ruxi’s exclamation points, Jian Jixing nonetheless felt in high spirits. Making her wife “satisfied” before departure was her core tenet.

Work was calling, but home had to be managed too. Under Yan Huaixi’s persistent begging, Jian Jixing didn’t call the family again, but she was still uneasy. She told Sheng Ruxi that if Yan Huaixi did anything to make her uncomfortable, she shouldn’t hesitate.

[You are the mistress of the house. Just tell her to leave if she’s a bother.]

Little Mung Bean (Sheng Ruxi): [Just go to work already.]

“Can you stop wearing that ‘worthless’ smile while looking at your phone?” Gu Shengci had been sitting next to Jian Jixing for a long time. Unable to take it anymore, she finally spoke up, making an ‘X’ with her hands. “Didn’t you tell yourself not to bring private emotions into work?”

Jian Jixing tucked her phone away, face unchanged. “This isn’t ’emotion’.”

It was her source of motivation—two completely different things.

Lin Qie poked her head out from behind: “I think Director Jian should have brought Miss Sheng along. Didn’t Director Jian want Miss Sheng to be the female lead?”

Jian Jixing remained silent.

“We just need the right opportunity,” Gu Shengci added, only then noticing that Qian Chunhe wasn’t behind Jian Jixing today.

When the flight attendant came to serve food, Jian Jixing didn’t order the light morning fare she usually preferred. For once, she asked for creamy mushroom pasta and Honey Earl Grey cake. Mid-flight, the attendant brought cold brew coffee to cut through the sweetness but regretfully informed Jian Jixing that her usual favorite beans were out of stock, so they used a different blend today.

Jian Jixing accepted it cheerfully. The smile on her face made Gu Shengci think she was looking at a different person.

I knew falling in love could change a person, but this is a bit extreme, isn’t it?

Having been friends with Jian Jixing for so long, Gu Shengci knew she was a woman of her word and extremely self-disciplined. Sometimes, Gu Shengci even found her personality too rigid—Jian Jixing was the type of person who, if she decided to ride her motorcycle at 10:00 PM, would time it down to the second, like a precision instrument. Her daily diet, work schedule, and to-do lists were all set the previous weekend and executed perfectly. She never allowed for loopholes, and neither did the team she built.

Since marrying Sheng Ruxi, Jian Jixing seemed to be slowly drifting off her original orbit. It started with that awards ceremony where she was actually late—that was strange enough. She only looked casual and nonchalant on the outside; internally, she was orderly, old-fashioned, and strictly followed the rules.

Disorder and impulsiveness had rarely appeared in Jian Jixing’s adult life until now.

…

After breakfast, Jian Jixing took the tablet from Lin Qie to check the script, sketching storyboards on draft paper as she went. After an hour of focus, she grew sleepy and leaned back, covering herself with a thin blanket.

Thinking of something, she asked the flight attendant for a long, bolster-style pillow. It wasn’t large—smaller than the one at home—and Jian Jixing didn’t typically have the habit of sleeping with a pillow, but she was thinking of Sheng Ruxi. This was Sheng Ruxi’s habit.

She had to admit that when she wasn’t working, her mind couldn’t quite settle; she was always thinking of Sheng Ruxi. Wondering if she was tucked in properly, if she was waking up with a grumble, if she was drooling because she was sleeping too deeply?

So many stray thoughts, all concerning one person.

She had always been a workaholic who wouldn’t stop until the final moment once she started. Now, she actually felt fatigue, wanting to enter a brief dreamland just for a meeting that would vanish upon waking.

In her dream, Jian Jixing indeed saw Sheng Ruxi again. But it was a teenage Sheng Ruxi.

During their third year of middle school, many students had “differentiated,” mostly matching the test results from the second year. Not yet fourteen, the baby fat had faded from Sheng Ruxi’s face, her features revealing an aggressive beauty. Many people only dared to peek at her, blushing if she caught their eye. If they didn’t look away, she would snap: “What are you looking at? Believe me, I’ll gouge your eyes out!”

The young Sheng Ruxi was not a traditional “refined lady” type; she was a hot-tempered, overbearing princess who hated being scrutinized. She was fierce when she scolded and charming when she acted spoiled—she was impossible to handle.

But Sheng Ruxi never acted spoiled toward Jian Jixing.

Jian Jixing, when handing out homework notebooks, would deliberately hold a stack in front of Sheng Ruxi, clutching a new one. When Sheng Ruxi reached for it, she would intentionally lift it higher.

“You’re so boring! Jian Jixing!” At that time, Sheng Ruxi was a powder keg. If Jian Jixing teased her, she would puff up like a little pufferfish.

“Talk to me nicely, and I’ll give it to you.” Jian Jixing would spin the notebook in her hand, looking her over with a smile. “Why are you always so fierce when you call my name?”

Sheng Ruxi, refusing to be outdone, stood up to grab it. In the heat of midsummer, the girl’s arms in her school uniform were white as fresh lotus roots. When she leaned over, Jian Jixing smelled the faint scent of her collar—like lotus leaves brushed by a breeze, gently swaying into waves that washed over her shoulder.

That time, after she steadied Sheng Ruxi, her voice had become cold and low, making Sheng Ruxi very angry with her.

Revisiting this in the dream, Jian Jixing wanted to laugh at her own clumsiness. The heart-pounding waves caused by Sheng Ruxi’s proximity were suppressed by her pride. She clearly wanted to tell Sheng Ruxi to be careful in front of others, but she spoke coldly and harshly, being incredibly awkward.

She had seen Sheng Ruxi act spoiled toward Chu Wu, asking Chu Wu to give her homework to check answers. When she called Chu Wu’s name, the end of the tone would curl upward, as if she wanted to drag it out forever. Chu Wu didn’t have much of a reaction, but Jian Jixing’s heart would turn to mush just listening.

Sheng Ruxi was a straight talker; when she was anxious, she didn’t care about saving people’s faces. But after she realized she had spoken too harshly, she would shake the person’s arm. With just a slight lowering of her voice, acting spoiled came naturally to her.

Since she can be like this with everyone, if I’m fierce back to her, will she act spoiled toward me too?

The scene shifted to Sheng Ruxi clinging to her last night. No desks, no homework, no acting spoiled for Chu Wu or others. There was only Sheng Ruxi’s lightly trembling eyelashes, her eyes closed as she mumbled that Jian Jixing was a “bad person.”

That voice was more lethal than any act of being spoiled. It was worth being a bad person for.

…

At 5:30 AM, she hadn’t wanted to bother Sheng Ruxi too much, but Sheng Ruxi’s body was too familiar with hers. Fingers hooked onto her, and with a crying tone in her voice, she asked: “Can’t you just not go to work…”

Jian Jixing listened to her unbearable humming in her ear, kissing her tenderly so she wouldn’t bite her lip. The pants and blanket had long since been kicked to the foot of the bed, but it was better as a cushion, because the sheets were eventually made into a mess. Jian Jixing could only help wipe her legs; the sheets had to be left as they were.

When she woke up, the plane was preparing to land, swaying slightly. But Jian Jixing sat motionless in her seat, staring at the ceiling of the cabin, wanting to re-enter the dream.

Is it really so bad to indulge in the “gentle land”? Why do humans have to work?

“You can call your darling now.” Gu Shengci saw her dazed expression and winked. “You weren’t having a wet dream, were you?”

Her thoughts were exposed, but Jian Jixing didn’t blush. She composed herself, sat up, and checked the time. Knowing Sheng Ruxi was definitely still sleeping, she just sent a message saying she had arrived safely and put the phone away.

Although she gave Gu Shengci an unpleasant look, Gu Shengci knew Jian Jixing was in a very good mood. She just didn’t know what she had dreamed about to look so “worthless.”

…

After getting off the plane, a car took them directly to the Film and Television City. The driver was a new face, looking honest and not very good at small talk. Most of the group habitually wore sunglasses and masks, but Jian Jixing walked at the front with no covering. The driver saw her in low-key black clothes, looking tall and elegant, though her beauty was cold and imposing; she looked unapproachable when not smiling.

Jian Jixing said nothing, sat in the passenger seat, and adjusted the position. The driver turned on the radio, specifically to an entertainment station, which happened to be playing a compilation of Sheng Ruxi’s past interviews, talking about her famous “golden quotes.”

The most famous among them was: “I can’t act out a marriage scene, but I can act out a ‘widowed’ scene.”

The driver sighed: “This Miss Sheng won’t act in marriage scenes but can do ‘widowed’ ones. It’s not like she’s in a secret marriage.”

The car went silent. Gu Shengci, Lin Qie, and the others were in the same car. Just as they were about to smooth things over, they heard Jian Jixing ask: “Is it strange?”

“It is strange! If she says that and has a partner, isn’t she cursing them? Who would marry her then?” After the driver finished, Jian Jixing just knitted her brows but didn’t speak.

But the driver had opened his chatterbox: “I remember Miss Sheng used to be with that… uh, my daughter used to buy their posters. Oh right! Zou Xinji. I don’t think they were a good match anyway. Miss Sheng was probably talking about her…”

The tense atmosphere in the car gradually relaxed as the radio program ended and soothing music began to play.

…

Jian Jixing arrived at the studio around 10:00 AM. Without resting, she went straight to the set, organizing the remaining staff according to the new work plan and checking in with Qian Chunhe.

Qian Chunhe came out to greet them from a pile of props and waste paper, looking more disheveled than ever. But after re-tying her hair, she was still high-spirited with bright eyes, though the dark circles under them were obvious.

“After the two staff members resigned, they took most of our original prop blueprints. Although I can redo them, the progress will inevitably slow down. Director Jian, at this rate, we won’t make it to the Jingwei International Film Festival at the end of the year.”

Gu Shengci was fuming upon hearing this. She didn’t understand how Jian Jixing could remain so calm, as if she had expected it.

If filming was obstructed, they could solve it with money. If they couldn’t catch up on the schedule? They could buy time with heavy investment—in other words, they needed more capital. The problem was that the investor, Xie Jinheng, was blocking things, and the female lead hadn’t been decided yet. They were in a dilemma.

In the current incomplete script, the protagonist is an urban white-collar worker accustomed to high-pressure work and repressing her needs. After being a scapegoat for a workplace error, she resigns and goes to a friend’s pastoral area, gradually healing through memories and finding herself. Because the film spans a large timeframe and Jian Jixing always strives for perfection—even indoor sets are meticulously constructed—rebuilding would take a lot of time.

Maybe change investors?

The conference room was quiet, everyone waiting for Jian Jixing to speak. Gu Shengci hesitated, swallowing her words. After a while, she heard Jian Jixing say calmly: “Then we won’t do studio shooting.”

The room went silent for a second. Gu Shengci looked shocked, while Lin Qie and Yang Chang’s faces showed a hint of excitement.

Gu Shengci: “All location shooting? You’re crazy!”

Do you know how much energy that takes? And—

“All location shooting is known as the ‘military camp’ of filmmaking.” Gu Shengci gripped her pen, the tip nearly piercing the notebook. “Actors have to stay with the crew the whole time; nobody wants to do that!”

Jian Jixing smiled slightly: “Then change the actors.”

With her name, was she worried about not finding actors? Besides, she already had a candidate in mind.

After a two-hour meeting, everyone except Jian Jixing and her team looked exhausted. Gu Shengci finally understood why Jian Jixing was called a “filming lunatic.” This sudden idea threw off the entire rhythm. Yet, her two right-hand assistants actually supported her, heading off to revise the script immediately. Gu Shengci, meanwhile, struggled over how to explain this to the company.

…

It was afternoon by the time the group gathered in the restaurant to eat. There wasn’t much ceremony. Lin Qie and Yang Chang were the type who would drag her into a discussion the moment they had an idea, regardless of the time.

Jian Jixing kept track of the time while listening, keeping an eye on her phone. It was a message from Yan Huaixi: [Just went to Sister-in-law’s door to listen, she’s not up yet.]

[Sister, should I heat up that sandwich for her?]

[Sister, Aunt Lan just sent a lot of food. I’ve already put it in the fridge.]

Looking at the photos Yan Huaixi sent, Jian Jixing replied with instructions on how to store a few items. Just as she looked up, she saw a group of people entering the dining hall.

Xie Jinheng was at the front, surrounded by people, exuding a strong aura with her steady heels. Jian Jixing met her gaze directly, not looking away but merely glancing aside casually. When Xie Jinheng approached, Jian Jixing put down her chopsticks.

“Jixing.” After greeting Jian Jixing, Xie Jinheng nodded politely to the others at the table. “Sorry, I need to have a private word with your Director Jian.”

Gu Shengci’s heart leaped into her throat. She always felt nothing good happened when Xie Jinheng and Jian Jixing met alone.

Jian Jixing was as calm internally as she was on the outside. Seeing Xie Jinheng again, she no longer felt that irritability. She understood now that much of that frustration came from not knowing how to tell Sheng Ruxi about the past mess. Now that they had cleared the air over the last two nights, her heart was filled with the strength Sheng Ruxi gave her.

Although she said they should talk, Jian Jixing showed no intention of leaving her seat. The others moved to a side table, leaving Xie Jinheng to sit next to her.

“Do you have to refuse to cooperate with me? Thinking of filming an all-location movie just because you’re so capable?” Xie Jinheng’s voice was very soft today. “Jixing, deciding on the lead now isn’t that much trouble. I can help you find people for the props team.”

Jian Jixing raised an eyebrow: “You’re very well-informed.” She seemed not to care at all; when her phone vibrated twice, she looked down.

Xie Jinheng momentarily forgot what she was going to say. “You used to hate…”

She knew Jian Jixing was strict with herself regarding etiquette; she would never check messages while talking to someone. She was an investor, after all. Xie Jinheng also knew Jian Jixing’s family wouldn’t provide investment support. If she withdrew now, the project would likely die. But Jian Jixing didn’t seem annoyed at all about her project being called to a halt; her focus was entirely on replying to messages.

Steadying herself, Xie Jinheng said: “I know you’re resentful, but I didn’t know about the internal team resignations. I flew here first thing this morning to help you solve these things. I’m the person who wants this movie finished and released more than anyone.”

Hearing this, Jian Jixing finally looked up at her.

“I know that if you don’t finish this movie, you won’t be able to get over that hurdle in your heart, right? Jixing, I understand you. I’m consulting you because we both want to make a good film and release it successfully for competition.” Xie Jinheng said softly, “The past is in the past. If you don’t work with me, are you afraid the paparazzi will dig up old things? They won’t. My mother has handled everything. She said… even if people find out, they’ll just say we’re a powerful alliance. The events of back then are ancient history.”

“We can find a suitable distributor. No matter how unconventional you film this, I can guarantee a smooth release.”

Jian Jixing said nonchalantly: “When did you learn to be so passive-aggressive? I don’t know if you’ve seen Sheng Ruxi’s interviews, but she says no one has a sharper tongue than I do.”

At the mention of Sheng Ruxi, the gentleness on Xie Jinheng’s face faltered. “Jixing, why do you bring her up again?”

“I like her, so of course I can’t help bringing her up. Aren’t you always bringing up Teacher Qin?” Jian Jixing curled her fingers, finally giving Xie Jinheng her first smile of the day. “A famous young director taking advantage of the actress in her first film, versus the love-hate struggle between a virtuous artist and her stepdaughter—which do you think is more eye-catching?”

Even though the tile floor was covered with a soft carpet, the chair fell to the ground with a slight thud because the person sitting in it stood up too quickly.

Xie Jinheng’s expression was incredibly cold. Only someone close could see her pupils dilating and contracting from shock.

“…You want to destroy yourself?” Xie Jinheng’s heart shook violently. In this situation, she actually caught a glimpse of Jian Jixing’s WeChat chat background—it was a very familiar profile.

Sheng Ruxi.

Her voice trembled: “Do you know the consequences of saying these things? If Sheng Ruxi knew, would she still act in your movie? A director with a stain.”

Jian Jixing sat relaxed on the chair, casually wiping her fingers with a napkin, her lips curving: “She is the person who will always be by my side.”

Seeing Xie Jinheng’s fist clenched, Jian Jixing said no more, stood up, and prepared to leave. Lin Qie and Yang Chang were actually writing furiously on napkins; Qian Chunhe hurried to follow, worried Jian Jixing had been scolded. That posture just now looked like they were about to fight!

“Director Jian, where are we going?” Qian Chunhe studied Jian Jixing’s expression and felt she was alright. “Back to the company?”

“Yeah.” Since Sheng Ruxi wasn’t in the hotel suite anyway, Jian Jixing felt it was better to go back and work. She said generously: “Go back and stay with Lin Qie. I’ll be in the office.”

Qian Chunhe felt she was in a good mood, so she swallowed her words and watched Jian Jixing enter the elevator.

Jian Jixing pressed the floor button and took out her phone. She finally saw the message she wanted from Yan Huaixi: [Sister! My sister-in-law is out!]

She had slept almost all day.

Jian Jixing didn’t have time to reply to Yan Huaixi. She opened Sheng Ruxi’s chat. She was going to type, but changed it to a voice message: “Why did you sleep so long? I’m almost becoming a ‘wife-watching stone’.”

The “typing…” status appeared quickly. But after a long time, no message came. Ding. She reached the underground garage. Jian Jixing frowned and waved her phone above her head, ensuring the signal was good.

Only after she got into the car did she see Sheng Ruxi’s delayed voice message: “Whose fault is it… tell me whose fault it is, Jian Jixing?”

The just-woke-up voice was soft and sweet, making one want to pinch her. Jian Jixing played the voice message several times, her ears tingling. She decided not to drive out yet and asked: “Can I give you a call?”

Sheng Ruxi quickly sent two words: [No]

This time she was fast, immediately explaining: [I’m eating the sandwich you made.]

Jian Jixing read every word, seemingly visualizing Sheng Ruxi’s cute puffed-out cheeks as she ate. She tapped on the background photo of Sheng Ruxi’s profile and laughed.

As if sharing a soul, Sheng Ruxi’s chatterbox opened along with her taste buds. Another message came: [The filling is so soft, it’s delicious. How can you even fry an egg so well?]

The sent picture showed the sandwich with two bites taken out, revealing the runny yolk flowing out.

[I took one bite and it flowed out! Look!]

[How can it be this delicious?]

Jian Jixing only clicked the picture once, but she stared at those two sentences from Sheng Ruxi for a long time. Then, she typed each character into the chat box. After finishing, she read it twice, her throat tightening. She leaned her head on her hand and laughed helplessly, sending it without hesitation.

Jian Jixing: [Because… it’s just like you?]

Since meeting Sheng Ruxi, she felt more and more that things like “shame” were worthless.