After A Secret Marriage Agreement With A Rival Omega - Chapter 96

Chapter 96

 Regarding You, I Don’t Want to Miss a Single Thing

The two didn’t stay long at home. They spent one night at Jian Jixing’s place and the next at Sheng Ruxi’s. After spending time with both sets of elders, they returned to the crew and threw themselves back into filming.

Although everyone had been given a three-day break, Gu Shengci and the others returned full of energy.

Gu Shengci hadn’t even gone back to the capital; she stayed in the film city for three days, claiming she had scouted all the information she could. She had checked out every production currently filming that might compete with Jian Jixing’s film at upcoming festivals. “None of them can beat us,” she declared confidently.

Jian Jixing asked casually, “Did you go alone?”

“…No, I was with Yan Fuzheng. Didn’t you ask her to do the ending credits animation? She didn’t go back to the capital either.”

Jian Jixing gave a distracted “Oh,” but when she mentioned it to Sheng Ruxi later, she noticed a strange look in Sheng Ruxi’s eyes. It was a knowing look, with a faint smile playing on her lips.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too coincidental how much time those two have been spending together lately?” Even Sheng Ruxi, who didn’t consider herself a gossip, had noticed. “Remember when we were in the pastoral areas? Fufu came to play with me, but when we left, she stayed behind.”

“I didn’t realize she liked staying with Wang Renqing that much.” Jian Jixing still didn’t see anything odd; after all, she had commissioned Yan Fuzheng for work, so it made sense for her to stay and gather inspiration.

Sheng Ruxi shot her a look. “I finally understand why you’ve been making me angry since middle school.”

Jian Jixing was stuck between laughter and tears. “What? We were talking about Gu Shengci, why is this about me now?”

Sheng Ruxi: “If you weren’t so dense, I wouldn’t have spent all those years thinking you hated me and liked Chu Wu.”

Jian Jixing: “…”

Though she didn’t quite understand why her wife was scolding her, she knew the golden rule: don’t talk back.

Seeing her silence, Sheng Ruxi prodded, “Say something. Is it true or not?”

“Yes, it is.” Jian Jixing didn’t actually know what Sheng Ruxi was referring to, but she answered with good humor.

Sheng Ruxi: “What is?”

“Whatever you say it is.” Jian Jixing maintained a smile while her brain frantically tried to search for what her wife had just accused her of.

Sheng Ruxi didn’t buy it. She reached out and gently pinched Jian Jixing’s ear. “You’ve learned how to be perfunctory quite quickly, haven’t you!”

The photographer capturing behind-the-scenes footage rushed to film this scene, clicking his tongue. “Director Jian and Movie Queen Sheng’s relationship is getting better and better as we reach the later stages.”

Jian Jixing hissed in mock pain. “How would I dare—”

Gu Shengci walked by and laughed at the spectacle. “What’s wrong with you? This isn’t the ‘you’ who brags to me every day.”

Before Jian Jixing could speak, Sheng Ruxi let go and threw the script at Gu Shengci, huffing, “I think you’re the one who corrupted her. I’ll make sure Fufu stays away from you.”

Gu Shengci: “?” Wait, who offended you?

…

Filming in the pastoral areas lasted two full months. It was quieter than the film city, with fewer distractions. After work, everyone sat around the camp chatting, having become well-acquainted with the local villagers.

As the production entered its final stage, a sense of melancholy washed over Jian Jixing for the first time. She found herself deeply reluctant for the shoot to end. It was a feeling shared by the entire crew.

Sheng Ruxi had even learned a few local phrases to chat with Ayileta on set.

However, even though they were in the home stretch, Jian Jixing still hadn’t finalized Yao Tai’s ending. The film was ninety minutes long, and the first hour of material was already edited. She reviewed the footage repeatedly at night, seeing her own past reflected through Sheng Ruxi’s performance.

Through those stumbling experiences, Yao Tai gradually grew steadier, becoming an independent young woman.

In the emotionally intense scenes of Yao Tai’s adulthood, Sheng Ruxi was a bit slower to get into character. This wasn’t due to her work ethic, but because her personal emotions were leaking through. Yao Tai as an adult was cold, restrained, and suppressed her own needs. Sheng Ruxi had become Yao Tai, but in her heart, she knew she was retracing the painful path Jian Jixing had once walked.

As Sheng Ruxi, and as Jian Jixing’s wife, her heartache and tenderness were uncontrollable.

Consequently, on set, Jian Jixing—in her professional mode—would call “Cut.”

“Incorrect. In this context, Yao Tai, your eyes wouldn’t turn red.”

Sheng Ruxi would snap out of the performance, looking at Jian Jixing behind the monitor with a complex expression.

“No, Yao Tai’s emotions are introverted here.”

“Cut! We need to redo this shot. Yao Tai’s expression should be even more indifferent.”

After several days of NGs (No-Goods), Sheng Ruxi waved her hand, hid her face behind her script, and sat down in her chair.

Jian Jixing immediately dropped her stern professional persona and hurried to Sheng Ruxi’s side. “How did you manage to film yourself into a bad mood?”

Sheng Ruxi’s voice came muffled from behind the script: “None of your business.”

But she didn’t resist when Jian Jixing took her fingers and gently kneaded them.

“Still talking in anger. If I don’t care about you, who will? Hmm… who else do you want to care for you?” Jian Jixing laughed softly. “You’re getting out of character quickly now, but you’re liking the director less and less.”

The massage relaxed Sheng Ruxi, but the heartache in her chest only grew clearer. Her voice trembled slightly. “You… I don’t want you to coax me. Don’t you understand?”

Jian Jixing understood perfectly. That was why she had rushed over so quickly. “If you don’t want me to coax you, then don’t think of it that way. Think of it as me trying to enlighten my past self who couldn’t figure things out, okay?”

“Little Yao Tai.” Jian Jixing gently removed the script from Sheng Ruxi’s face. “You did nothing wrong. You’ve done so well. You’ll become a very powerful person in the future, and you’ll have a very powerful person by your side.”

So—all the confusion, sadness, and hardship are temporary. You must defeat them.

It was because the current Jian Jixing had everything she once desired, including Sheng Ruxi, that she could look back and realize those past hardships had made her who she was.

Sheng Ruxi’s eyes were already red, and hearing this, she couldn’t stop the tears.

“I don’t want you to call me powerful… If I were as powerful as you, I wouldn’t still be losing my temper at you,” Sheng Ruxi said. “Rongrong, the more I act this part, the more I realize how little I know you.”

“Through these scenes, I realized there were so many times back then when we bickered, or when I scolded you, and you were actually in a terrible place emotionally.” Sheng Ruxi paused, swallowing a sob. “But I didn’t notice a thing.”

Sheng Ruxi had even called Chu Wu, only to find out that Chu Wu hadn’t known either. This weighed on her like a giant boulder. Her emotional outburst on set today was simply because she couldn’t suppress it any longer.

But with Jian Jixing’s comfort, she felt much lighter.

Back then, Jian Jixing had no one like that to comfort or accompany her.

“I’m fine now. We’re filming a movie, so show some professional attitude.” Seeing that they were alone, Jian Jixing whispered a soft “Wife” into Sheng Ruxi’s ear.

“Stop that.” Although Sheng Ruxi shot her a reproachful look, she didn’t stop her.

By this stage of filming, their relationship was no secret on set. Everyone knew they weren’t on bad terms like the rumors claimed. However, few knew they were this close—director and actress by day, intimate partners sharing a bed by night. It had become their tacit little secret.

“Rongrong, emotions need to be released, whether they are from your past or your future,” Sheng Ruxi said seriously. “Be like me—if you’re angry, let it out. Don’t suppress it or think you can digest it all on your own.”

Jian Jixing smiled. “I know. But really, I’m not suppressing anything. Who else could possibly make me angry besides… you?”

Understanding the implication, Sheng Ruxi raised her hand to strike her. “So you’re saying I’m the only one who pisses you off?”

“Mercy… my little ancestor!” Jian Jixing didn’t dodge; she even leaned her face closer to make it easier for Sheng Ruxi to hit. “It’s because I have you to bicker with that my days are so comfortable. We’ll do it your way.”

Seeing this, Sheng Ruxi knew Jian Jixing was truly okay. She pulled back her hand and snorted. “Thick-skinned. I’m not rewarding you.”

Jian Jixing caught her hand and rubbed it against her cheek, fully embracing her “thick-skinned” nature. “Let’s go home. Wrap it up for today.”

…

There was supposed to be no work after dinner, but after their conversation on set, Jian Jixing had new ideas. She went back to the office and called Lin Qie to help her revise the script.

Lin Qie was used to revisions, but seeing Jian Jixing alone, she couldn’t help but ask, “Shouldn’t you be with Sheng Ruxi tonight? How can you bear to be away?”

With the film nearing its end but the finale still being debated, Lin Qie was mentally prepared for overtime. But anyone could see that Jian Jixing and Sheng Ruxi were in a “honey-in-oil” phase, practically inseparable.

Jian Jixing raised an eyebrow. “We have a mutual understanding regarding work.”

Lin Qie said, “There aren’t many scenes left. Two more and we hit the big emotional climax. Since that’s not settled, what do you want to change?” She meant there wasn’t much room left to move.

Jian Jixing pointed at two scenes. “Merge these two into a lighter plot and skip through them quickly.”

Lin Qie was shocked. “You’re deleting them?”

Jian Jixing nodded.

“That’s rare. In all the time we’ve worked together, this is the first time I’ve seen you willing to cut later scenes. What changed you?”

“I feel like Ruxi is empathizing too much with Yao Tai. I don’t want it to affect her too much.” Jian Jixing had reviewed it; as long as the finale held up, these cuts wouldn’t hurt the overall plot. To her, a slight loss of “completeness” was actually a form of artistic “blank space.”

Lin Qie understood. As a screenwriter, she wouldn’t question the director’s vision. It was a mutual achievement, but the actor’s state had to be considered. Everyone had seen how Sheng Ruxi struggled to recover after certain scenes lately.

However, she had to ask: “Have you asked Sheng Ruxi about this change?”

Sheng Ruxi had only been given the first two-thirds of the script at the start; the rest was given to her page by page as they finalized it.

Jian Jixing shook her head. “She doesn’t know yet.”

“And you’re still changing it? You know how high her standards are. She might not agree.” On set, with Jian Jixing’s permission, Sheng Ruxi had a lot to say, and the staff respected her opinion. As an experienced actress, she would notice even the slightest inconsistency.

Jian Jixing said, “I know there’s a 60% chance she won’t agree, which is why I’m changing it directly.”

There’s still a 40% chance she won’t notice, or will just find it a bit odd.

Lin Qie sighed. “You can’t say it like that. You’re doing this because you’re worried about her, but you make it sound like something else entirely.”

It was no wonder Sheng Ruxi and Jian Jixing could go from sweet to bickering in a second. Both of them had sharp tongues.

Jian Jixing rubbed her brow. “Just change it. Let’s finish filming early. Once it’s reviewed next month, Little Qian can send it for the international festival’s preliminary rounds.”

The film wasn’t taking the usual domestic release route; it was going straight to international festivals.

Lin Qie felt uneasy but couldn’t say more. Jian Jixing was her boss. But just as she was about to hit the Delete key, the conference room door swung open. Both women looked up.

Lin Qie’s eyes widened. Of course. Speak of the devil…

Sheng Ruxi stood at the door, having pushed it open with significant force. She was clearly angry. She strode in, but instead of going to Jian Jixing, she went behind Lin Qie to look at the screen. Seeing the highlighted paragraphs marked for deletion, she understood everything.

Sheng Ruxi frowned and looked at Jian Jixing, her eyes full of disbelief and her voice turning cold.

“I absolutely do not agree to these cuts,” Sheng Ruxi said. “You told me this afternoon to maintain a professional attitude. Is this your professional attitude?”

“Well… you see…” Facing Sheng Ruxi’s obvious anger, Lin Qie was stunned, but she felt she had to speak up for Jian Jixing. The motive was to protect the actor’s mental state.

How did this turn into a fight already…

But Jian Jixing stopped her with a glance and shook her head. “Go back. I’ll handle this.”

“Handle what? In short, no changes. Do you hear me?” Sheng Ruxi slammed her hand on the table, making Lin Qie jump. Lin Qie quickly replied, “I hear you! I hear you, I hear you, Lady Boss! I hear you.”

Lady Boss?

Sheng Ruxi had been fuming, thinking she wouldn’t forgive Jian Jixing even if she made her sleep on the couch, but hearing “Lady Boss” made her break. She almost laughed out loud.

What a strange title.

The tension in the room dissolved instantly. Lin Qie slapped her own forehead. “I just have a quick mouth… but it’s basically the same thing. Don’t fight! Talk it out!” With that, she scurried away.

Once Lin Qie was gone, Sheng Ruxi straightened her face, trying to maintain her “angry” posture. “I don’t like you changing the script without even consulting me. Why?”

Jian Jixing also became serious. “I don’t want you to empathize too much with those past experiences. They’re over.”

“That’s not empathy!” Sheng Ruxi’s voice was urgent. “For the sake of a film’s integrity, an actor can give everything. Even if this weren’t your movie, I would demand it be filmed completely rather than cutting it because of my state.”

“Even if it were someone else’s movie?”

Sheng Ruxi choked. “Don’t nitpick words. We’re talking about your problem right now.”

Jian Jixing found herself acting strange, suddenly caring about whether Sheng Ruxi treated her differently than other directors. She was beginning to demand “special treatment,” just like the old Sheng Ruxi used to.

“I told you this afternoon: don’t shoulder every emotion alone. Film is also a way for you to express those feelings,” Sheng Ruxi said, her anger rising again. “If you don’t respect yourself, fine, but don’t disrespect the craft of filmmaking.”

She turned to leave. Her words were heavy with anger.

Jian Jixing followed silently. She tried to take Sheng Ruxi’s hand, but was dodged. Frowning, she walked alongside her, eventually forcing Sheng Ruxi’s hand into the crook of her arm and clamping it down so she couldn’t pull away. Both were acting as childishly as disgruntled kids.

Back in the room, Sheng Ruxi said simply, “You sleep in the guest room tonight,” and went into the bathroom to shower.

Jian Jixing knew she was just blowing off steam. She showered in the guest room but still lay down in the master bedroom. When Sheng Ruxi came out and saw her there, she didn’t say a word, simply lying down on the other side of the bed with a stony face.

Jian Jixing had a plan for this. Once the lights were off, she pulled Sheng Ruxi into her arms and released her pheromones.

“You’re cheating!”

With the help of the pheromones, Sheng Ruxi couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to.

Jian Jixing chuckled. “Yes, I’m cheating. Baby, when you’re angry, this is the only thing I can do.”

Sheng Ruxi’s resistance was now negligible. Her body was far more honest than her brain, and much more proactive.

…

“Jian Rongrong.”

With the heat still on her face, Sheng Ruxi leaned in Jian Jixing’s arms, her head on a familiar shoulder, idly playing with Jian Jixing’s earlobe.

Jian Jixing caught her hand with a light laugh. “I only stopped for one round because we have work tomorrow. You still have this much energy?”

“Stop fooling around. I want to tell you what’s on my mind.”

The lights were off, but their bodies and minds felt more inseparable than ever. Jian Jixing held her tighter. “I’m listening.”

“I shouldn’t have said you don’t respect the film. I know you have your reasons,” Sheng Ruxi’s voice was soft. “The reason I don’t want you to cut the scenes is because, by acting in this play, I feel like I’ve truly participated in your past life.”

Jian Jixing froze.

Sheng Ruxi lowered her head and rubbed her cheek against Jian Jixing’s chest, her voice full of longing and tenderness. “So, as long as it’s about you, I don’t want to miss even the smallest detail.”