After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's "White Moonlight" - Chapter 22

“Alright, I’m finished eating, so I should head back now. Get some good rest tonight; the opening ceremony and press conference are tomorrow, so don’t wake up late.”

With that, Zhao Xixi took the tidied takeout bags and left.

“Okay,” Cheng Siyu promised. Once the sound of the door closing behind Zhao Xixi reached her, she finally relaxed her entire body and collapsed straight onto the luxurious large bed.

After a moment, she picked up her phone from the table and scrolled through today’s trending searches. The top trending topic was “The Fall of a Generation’s Movie Queen.” Clicking into it, she saw the news of the passing of Yi Xuan, Ji Yun’s mother. It seemed quite some time had already passed, and the news was only being released today.

Under the topic, a crowd of people was mourning. Cheng Siyu clicked on a commemorative video. Although she had never met Yi Xuan, she had seen her in many movies. Watching her fall into silence after marriage, just as Ji Yun had described, only to be mentioned again after her death, Cheng Siyu couldn’t help but feel a sense of pity.

For some reason, watching the video made Cheng Siyu think of her own mother. She fished out the only photo they had together from the deepest corner of her wallet.

She then placed the photo against her chest, as if this were the only way she could briefly feel a hint of her mother’s warmth.

In this manner, Cheng Siyu fell asleep amidst her memories. After an unknown amount of time, the phone by her pillow rang, startling her awake. She dazedly wiped away the tear stains at the corners of her eyes and looked at the caller ID.

It was Ji Yun.

Cheng Siyu rubbed her messy hair and glanced at the time; it was already 2:30 AM. She forced herself to pull her emotions together and spoke, “Hello, what’s wrong?”

“I… I…”

Ji Yun’s sobbing could be heard from the other end of the line. Cheng Siyu could almost see Ji Yun crying so hard her hair was shaking.

“It’s okay, take your time. What happened?”

At this moment, looking at the name “Ji Yun” on her phone screen, Cheng Siyu felt a sting in her heart. Once upon a time, she too would call Ji Yun when she woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night.

However, what she received back then were several impatient remarks, and eventually, nothing but the busy signal of the other party’s line. She could only watch the moon outside the window with her dog until dawn.

Now that their roles were reversed, she found that she couldn’t harden her heart enough to say anything cruel to this version of Ji Yun. She could only convince herself that this was merely playing a part for the sake of resources.

“I missed you,” Ji Yun finally seemed to pull herself together and spoke slowly.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow,” Cheng Siyu comforted her. She spoke a few more words as if coaxing a child, and on the other end of the phone, Ji Yun gradually fell asleep to Cheng Siyu’s gentle whispers.

After hanging up, Cheng Siyu took a shower but could no longer fall back asleep. She quietly watched the heavy traffic outside the hotel’s floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out until daybreak.

In her previous life, there were too many days and nights like this that she spent alone. Her only supporting conviction was the thin, singular name: Ji Yun.

“Is it worth it?”

Cheng Siyu suddenly recalled those words spoken by Shen Mexu in her previous life. At that time, Shen Mexu had already been in the industry for a long time; she must have known many things about Ji Yun.

“It’s not worth it.”

Struck down by the roadside in the rain, those were the only words in Cheng Siyu’s heart. As blood and rainwater gradually blurred her vision, the helplessness of her fading consciousness caused the pity she felt for Ji Yun to vanish instantly.

The opening ceremony didn’t officially take place until the following afternoon. In the morning, Cheng Siyu received a message from Ji Yun saying her flight had landed safely, accompanied by a “I’m here!” emoji.

Cheng Siyu replied with a “Morning,” along with a “Welcome” emoji.

At noon, seemingly to allow the actors to become familiar with one another and to showcase the production’s wealth, the crew invited all actors and staff to eat at the hotel restaurant.

To avoid exposing their relationship, Cheng Siyu and Ji Yun agreed to enter one after the other. Once inside, they were to act with polite formality toward each other.

Ji Yun, thinking Cheng Siyu simply didn’t want to trigger gossip or controversy, readily agreed. In reality, it was only because Cheng Siyu had signed a non-disclosure agreement with Ji Wanli—and because she didn’t believe this relationship could last long given Ji Yun’s love for novelty; she didn’t want to waste breath explaining things later.

More importantly, the memories from the previous night made her only want to maintain a contractual relationship with Ji Yun, with no desire to go any further.

“Is everyone here? Everyone, introduce yourselves. Don’t be so stiff.”

The one speaking was the director of this drama, Wei Yubai. She was a director who had been nominated for several awards; in her forties, she looked as well-maintained as someone in their twenties.

Cheng Siyu had seen many of the dramas she directed, though most were melodramatic family soaps.

After everyone introduced themselves and sat down, Si Fei—perhaps intentionally targeting Cheng Siyu—accidentally spilled the drink in her glass all over Cheng Siyu. Her pure white cocktail dress was instantly stained with ugly blotches.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, I did that by accident.”

Si Fei spoke with a deliberately shrill voice, drawing everyone’s attention. There wasn’t a hint of apology in her tone as she added, “This dress wasn’t cheap, was it? Sorry, little sister. I’ll buy one later to make it up to you.”

“No need,” Cheng Siyu replied, uncomfortable with being the center of attention. Ji Yun, sitting to one side, was about to stand up to defend Cheng Siyu but was stopped by a look from her. There were plenty of people present who disliked Si Fei; Si Fei acting like this would only make her more hated.

After saying a few words to the group, Cheng Siyu went back upstairs to change.

By the time she returned, the meal had already begun. The seat Cheng Siyu had occupied next to the director had been snatched by Si Fei, forcing her to sit in the seat originally meant for Si Fei.

However, this seat was right next to Ji Yun. As soon as Cheng Siyu sat down, Ji Yun quietly swapped her bowl with Cheng Siyu’s.

Cheng Siyu looked at the bowl in front of her, piled high like a small mountain. After a few seconds of silence, she began to eat in small bites.

“There’s going to be a good show in a moment,” Ji Yun suddenly whispered, her tone carrying a hint of mischief. Cheng Siyu didn’t catch it at first and asked, “What?”

“Nothing. Eat more.”

Seeing Ji Yun say this, Cheng Siyu didn’t press further.

During the meal, Si Fei kept pestering the director with questions about acting techniques. Everyone could see her intent, though they didn’t show it on their faces.

But then, in a momentary lapse of Cheng Siyu’s attention, she saw a woman in high heels walk in. Before anyone present could react, the woman picked up a glass of wine from the table and poured it over Si Fei.

“If you try to goad my father into changing his will again, I will tell the media every single piece of dirt from your past.”

The woman was devastatingly beautiful, possessing an untouchable aura that overwhelmed everyone in the room. Her gaze lingered briefly on Ji Yun and Cheng Siyu.

Si Fei, after seeing who the newcomer was, did not talk back with the same arrogance she showed toward Cheng Siyu. Instead, she covered her face and began to wail.

Before Cheng Siyu could process the drama, the woman wiped her hands, walked up to her, and handed her a business card.

“You’re really beautiful. Are you seeing anyone?”