After A Secret Marriage Agreement With A Rival Omega - Chapter 97

Chapter 97

Covenant

The final month flew by, passing in a blur of playful bickering and serious dedication between Jian Jixing and Sheng Ruxi.

After their heart-to-heart, Jian Jixing finalized the script without deleting a single word; instead, she added even more detail. Lin Qie knew Sheng Ruxi was the only one with the magic touch—she had the Director completely tamed.

While her relationship was thriving, Jian Jixing’s professional state was also peak—except for one thing. Even as the final day of shooting approached, the ending of the movie remained undecided. Two versions were written: one an Open Ending (OE), and one a Happy Ending (HE).

Gu Shengci strongly opposed the OE: “What do you mean ‘Open’? Can’t the audience figure it out? An OE is just a ‘Bad Ending’ (BE) in disguise.”

The debate reached a stalemate. Lin Qie suggested, “Why don’t we let Sheng Ruxi decide?” Since Lin Qie discovered that calling Sheng Ruxi “Lady Boss” was quite effective, she used the title frequently in private.

Jian Jixing convened a brief creative meeting and invited Sheng Ruxi. She showed the two handwritten versions of the ending without reservation. Sheng Ruxi sat beside her, chin tilted up, seriously studying the drafts on the projector.

In the film, the protagonist Yao Tai returns to the pastoral areas for self-exile, guided by a long-time pen pal. Throughout her recovery, their correspondence never ceases. These letters witness her healing and capture the growing intimacy and ambiguous tension between them.

Once Yao Tai heals her past wounds and gathers the strength to start anew, the time to leave approaches. Suddenly, she discovers a letter delivered directly by a local herdsman. Realizing her mysterious pen pal is likely just one hill away, a strong impulse strikes her: Should I meet them? She finally has the courage to act on her desires.

However, the messenger has already left and won’t return for two days. The pen pal remains unseen throughout the film, acting as a spiritual guide. Two days later, the messenger returns with a final letter. The pen pal wants to meet and knows where she is—it only requires her consent.

The “window paper” of their ambiguity is about to be punctured. Yao Tai is first excited, then annoyed, and finally struck by a wave of shaming shyness, rolling around on the ground clutching the letter to her chest. She remembers a hazy erotic dream she once had under the clouds. Even though it was formless, she knows who her subconscious had cast in that role. She knows her—her sensitivity, her fingers, the rhythm of her breath, and exactly how much strength is needed in a hug to make her feel safe.

Thus, Yao Tai faces two choices:

Meet the pen pal.

Leave alone, free and elegant, without meeting.

Sheng Ruxi knew her choice the moment she saw the script. At that moment, she was both Yao Tai and Sheng Ruxi.

In the first version, Yao Tai replies and chooses to meet. She doesn’t wait for the messenger; she leaps onto a horse and gallops toward the destination. Midway, she encounters the other person coming her way. They felt the same; the other person had planned to just take a silent look and leave if they didn’t meet her on the road. The film ends with them holding hands, running by a blue lake under a sacred mountain—free and passionate.

This scene reminded Sheng Ruxi of the night she and Jian Jixing ran back home through the streets.

“Both are good, but if it were me, I’d choose the version where they hold hands and walk toward a new life,” Sheng Ruxi said. “What about you all?”

Lin Qie: “I chose the BE—Yao Tai alone and beautiful. She’s healed herself and can face life solo.”

Gu Shengci: “I choose the first one! Look, the pen pal never appears on screen. Even in the ‘holding hands’ ending, they are just blurry figures in a wide shot. The focus remains on Yao Tai’s growth—she finally has the courage to seize what she once gave up out of cowardice. She’s learned to live in the moment.”

Sheng Ruxi’s eyes lit up; her thoughts had been perfectly articulated. Everyone eventually agreed.

Jian Jixing decided: “Let’s just film both endings while we have time. It’ll be easier to choose in editing.”

…

The shoot for the “leaving alone” ending began. Sheng Ruxi sat in a tent, trying to build the emotion by looking at the letters. But she couldn’t sink into it. Deep down, she hated the idea of the character choosing to be alone—even if it was just a movie.

To her, independent people can still crave love; they aren’t mutually exclusive. Yao Tai learned to love herself, and thus gained the capacity to love others.

Seeing her struggle, Jian Jixing paused the set and called her over. “Hard to get into character today?”

“Yao Tai doesn’t like this ending,” Sheng Ruxi whispered. “She’s telling me she wants to see her pen pal.”

“I understand. But we’re just experimenting,” Jian Jixing comforted her, pinching her cheek. “Don’t worry, the Yao Tai in real life is very happy.”

Gu Shengci cut in: “She’s just reluctant to finish the shoot. If you need help finding the feeling of heartbreak, just think of how you failed to chase Professor Chu back then.”

Jian Jixing shot Gu Shengci a warning look. Sheng Ruxi shrugged: “That doesn’t count. We were never together.”

Jian Jixing laughed: “I won’t let you experience heartbreak anyway.”

Gu Shengci, feeling like a genius, whispered: “I’ve got it! Ruxi, just imagine if you and Jian Jixing had to get divorced—”

Jian Jixing’s gaze turned icy, freezing Gu Shengci mid-sentence. But the damage (or help) was done. Sheng Ruxi’s expression changed completely, her eyes darkening with deep emotion. She was ready.

Sheng Ruxi nailed the “lonely” ending in two flawless takes. The moment “Cut” was called, Jian Jixing grabbed her wrist. “Shengci was just helping you act. Don’t overthink it.”

“I know,” Sheng Ruxi whispered. “I need to stay in the zone for the next one.”

Because she was in such a good state, they moved the second ending to the morning. However, the body double for the pen pal suddenly couldn’t make it. After rejecting several stand-ins, the producer Qian Chunhe looked at Jian Jixing’s hand as she twirled a pen. “Director Jian, your hands look amazing on camera.”

Since it was just a wide shot of the body and a close-up of the hands, Jian Jixing agreed.

During the second version, Sheng Ruxi was radiant. She took the initiative to grab Jian Jixing’s hand. During the wide shot, seeing Sheng Ruxi so joyful, Jian Jixing felt as if they were back in that night of reckless running. Her heart for Sheng Ruxi only grew. She realized she had truly stepped out of her past shadows.

“CUT!!!” “Congratulations to Ruxi on wrapping up!!!”

The sound of small confetti cannons brought Jian Jixing back. She was immediately pulled into a warm, fragrant embrace. She closed her eyes and held Sheng Ruxi even tighter.

The crew cheered. Yan Fuzheng, appearing from nowhere, wiped tears while snapping photos. “A wrap-up ceremony turned into a public display of affection… I’m so moved, boohoo.”

Everyone supported the “Happy Ending” version.

…

The next day, Sheng Ruxi entered her holiday phase. She had two months of rest before the promotion tour. After the grueling schedule, she slept for a whole day.

Jian Jixing, however, went to the studio early to review footage. In the evening, Gu Shengci came to pick Sheng Ruxi up, insisting she go to the office to help select behind-the-scenes clips.

“I’m not going,” Sheng Ruxi said lazily.

“You have to! Jian Jixing just told me she can’t work efficiently without you nearby,” Gu Shengci lied smoothly.

Sheng Ruxi enjoyed hearing that and agreed. Gu Shengci immediately texted Jian Jixing: Done! I’ve helped you this much, you owe me. Jian Jixing replied with a quick OK.

When Sheng Ruxi arrived at Jian Jixing’s office, she noticed the lights were different. She took the elevator up, feeling a strange sense of anticipation.

She opened the door to find the room dimmed, illuminated only by a soft glow. The usual desks were cleared, replaced by a round table covered in lace in the center of the room. Surrounding it were countless bouquets of her favorite vibrant flowers.

Her heart raced. A projection on the wall began to play—a montage of the last three months of filming. Every place they’d been, the wind as they rode horses, and the pulse of their joined palms.

At the center of the table sat an exquisite jewelry box, like a long-awaited covenant, quietly waiting for her.