After the Divorce, the Whole World is Waiting for Us to Get Back Together - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The mirror refracted the light, casting Cheng Xi’s face clearly into Meng Zhijin’s line of sight.

That rounded chin rested on her shoulder blade, causing a slight pang of pain that was quickly diluted by the pressing warmth. In this space without cameras, a layer of reckless ambiguity coated the air as Cheng Xi’s hand reached around from behind to encircle Meng Zhijin’s waist.

The slow movement carried a lazy familiarity, evaporating into the faint scent of alcohol and leaving no room for resistance. Because they were once so intimately acquainted with each other’s bodies, a light touch was enough to make the blood surge.

Meng Zhijin stared at herself and Cheng Xi in the mirror, her pupils trembling slightly. Perhaps the alcohol was finally beginning its delayed evaporation; her mouth felt dry. She forced her expression to remain stiff, struggling to pull her thoughts back into a state of extreme calm as she reminded her: “Do you know what you are saying?”

“Of course I know,” Cheng Xi’s voice was playful.

She gently shifted her chin against Meng Zhijin’s shoulder blade, adjusting her posture. “Hasn’t Teacher Meng watched the previous season? Young couples are all sweet when they wake up in the morning. Things like ‘accidentally sleeping in their arms,’ or ‘waking up face-to-face and staring into each other’s eyes first’… In short, there are so many… po-si-tions.”

Cheng Xi deliberately emphasized the last few words near Meng Zhijin’s ear, her teasing intent laid bare without any refinement. The wine had clouded her mind, and “working hard” became her excuse for being reckless. “You were the one who taught me to take my work seriously. Aren’t we working right now?”

A flash of realization like waking from a dream crossed Meng Zhijin’s eyes, but she immediately returned to her usual composure. She looked at the mischievously smiling Cheng Xi in the mirror, her voice steady: “Yes. We are working.”

Meng Zhijin swallowed the word “Kid” back into her throat. “Cheng Xi.”

She was acknowledging it. And she was also reminding herself.

Buzz, buzz, buzz…

The vibration of a phone rang out abruptly in the quiet space. The phone Meng Zhijin had placed on the vanity lit up. She looked at the caller ID and disentangled herself from Cheng Xi’s embrace. “Sorry, I have something to take care of.”

Cheng Xi didn’t chase after her; her encircling arms simply dropped to her sides. She leaned lazily against the cool wall tiles, hearing the bedroom door close.

She had just called her “Cheng Xi.” In this place without cameras.

Revisiting old haunts, meeting again in an old dream. Memory is always the most restless element, manipulating the subconscious, making people who have met after a long separation believe she is still the same person she used to be.

But she wasn’t. And neither was Cheng Xi, right?

Buzz, buzz, buzz…

At that moment, the phone in Cheng Xi’s pocket also vibrated. She took it out to see Qi Ming’s name. At this hour, everyone should be resting; a call from Qi Ming instantly sobered Cheng Xi up. “Sister Ming, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t panic, it’s not about you,” Qi Ming said. “First, look at the trending searches.”

Although Qi Ming stated it wasn’t about her, Cheng Xi couldn’t let go of her tension. At such a time, she didn’t know who else would be worth Qi Ming contacting her over.

Cheng Xi put on her headphones and exited the call interface. The Weibo app quickly switched to the screen, where the dark red word “Explosive” was glaringly stuck at the number one spot on the trending list.

The last time Cheng Xi had seen that symbol was because of Meng Zhijin. This time was the same.

The hashtag #MengZhijin’sBodyguardsBeatFans was hanging prominently. Marketing accounts, as if by prior agreement, were reposting photos with thick “Blackberry Entertainment” watermarks using nearly identical copy.

Despite the heavy watermarks, Cheng Xi recognized them at a glance.

This was no “bodyguard beating a fan”—it was clearly from the last time a sasaeng fan almost broke into her home, and Meng Zhijin’s bodyguards were helping her restrain the frenzied man.

The person who leaked the photos had malicious intent, specifically picking tricky angles. The tall, muscular bodyguards made the sasaeng fan look particularly frail. In the blurriness, it created the atmosphere suggested by the headline. Humans are most prone to sympathizing with those who appear weaker and less threatening than themselves.

Cheng Xi had a bad premonition and clicked on the real-time feed. The comments were a complete mess. Meng Zhijin didn’t rely on “traffic” or participate in idol fandom culture, so her fans were usually in a state of quiet appreciation; they didn’t know how to control comments or clarify rumors. Caught off guard in the middle of the night, they could only watch as a sudden influx of paid trolls with “Super Topic” badges ran rampant through their community with “tea-flavored” (passive-aggressive) comments.

“I am shocked.”

“Help, no way! I actually had a good impression of her, how could she do something like this?”

“Wait, why are you all judging her based on a few paparazzi photos? We don’t even know when this happened.”

“Speechless…”

“It’s strange. Teacher Meng had zero negative news while developing her career abroad. Why does this suddenly blow up right after she wins Best Actress and returns home?”

“What’s so strange about it? No one knew her abroad, so of course she could act recklessly. Now that she’s back, with so many eyes on her, it’s hard not to get caught.”

“I feel like Meng Zhijin is the best-packaged ‘second-generation’ star. Does anyone still not know her mother is the first domestic Best Actress, Shen Shan? Think about how many connections Shen Shan made for her—working with an A-list actor right at debut, having scripts custom-made for her just to win Best Actress. Lack of virtue will surely bring disaster!”

“I don’t know why, but she shouldn’t ruin her public reputation like this, right?”

“I thought stanning a Best Actress meant the ‘house’ would never collapse. I was too naive…”

Seeing that there was no sound from the other end of the line, Qi Ming asked, “Xiao Xi, did you see it?”

“Yes.” Cheng Xi’s brows furrowed tighter, her deep voice clearly laced with displeasure.

“The situation is this: Sister Su Jing has already contacted me. She wants to clarify this before it ferments too deeply, and she needs our side to help respond.”

“I know you hate mentioning that sasaeng fan incident, but…”

“Sister Ming, do you think I’m that immature?” Cheng Xi interrupted. “She did me such a huge favor last time; how could I watch her fall into trouble because of it?”

Qi Ming let out a sigh of relief and instructed, “Our studio will release a statement shortly. It will mainly state the facts, focusing on a severe condemnation of sasaeng behavior to shift the topic. You just need to repost it, express your gratitude for Teacher Meng’s help, and report that you are safe in the comments. That will be enough.”

“Okay, I got it.” Cheng Xi nodded, but she wasn’t in a hurry to hang up.

She watched those familiar marketing accounts collectively post images as if they shared a telepathic bond, skillfully guiding the public to push Meng Zhijin to the peak of public outcry. This kind of passive-aggressive rhetoric and coordinated midnight “sneak attack” was clearly being orchestrated by someone. And it was likely an old acquaintance.

“Sister Ming, do you know who did this?” Cheng Xi’s eyes were dark, her words pointed.

“We should know better than anyone who has ties with Blackberry Entertainment, right?” Qi Ming sneered. “I’ve been following up on the sasaeng issue these past two days; things aren’t that simple. They probably planned to squat on you long ago. Making a scene is best for them—it gives you a wave of negative publicity, ruins your cooperation with the show, and might even…”

Qi Ming stopped there. At dawn, the world was completely swallowed by darkness, its silence making one shiver. Fortunately, the “shivering” was only a hypothesis. Qi Ming added, “Luckily, you ran into Teacher Meng, and she saved you.”

Yes. Luckily.

Cheng Xi lowered her gaze slightly, agreeing with Qi Ming in her heart. But the question she hadn’t figured out back then resurfaced with that “luckily.” Based on the time, Meng Zhijin’s car should have long since driven out of the neighborhood.

“I just don’t know why Chen Zhuoying would target Meng Zhijin.”

Before Cheng Xi could ponder further, Qi Ming’s quiet mumble pulled her back. The night sky framed by the skylight loomed over Cheng Xi, and the obscurity in her eyes deepened. “Maybe… it’s still because of me.”

Qi Ming clearly sensed the other’s low mood and calmed down to analyze it for her: “Xiao Xi, don’t be so discouraged. Teacher Meng’s team is very capable. This trending search came suddenly and exploded fast; I didn’t even notice, but Sister Su Jing contacted me with a fully planned PR strategy already in hand. Teacher Meng has no real stains on her record, and you’ve been… very low-key lately. Even if they insist on fabricating black material to smear you, it won’t be like the past.”

Qi Ming paused for a moment. She bit her lip slightly, considering Cheng Xi’s feelings, and spoke cautiously: “Xiao Xi, you might be tired of hearing this, but you can see Teacher Meng’s strength through this incident. Since you’ve chosen to cooperate with her, you must use this time under her protection to quickly become popular again. The more the audience expects to see you elsewhere, the more scripts you’ll receive, and the better the quality will be. Understand?”

Cheng Xi understood everything Qi Ming said, but her gaze inevitably shifted several times. Then, she suddenly became calm.

“I understand, Sister Ming. Don’t worry.” Cheng Xi promised, then curved her eyes as usual. “Alright, go handle things on your end. It’s so late; if you don’t sleep, you’ll age tomorrow. Someone just praised me today for not changing at all over the years.”

“Okay.” Qi Ming nodded. “I’ll let you know when the studio posts the Weibo.”

The call ended, and the world inside the headphones fell silent. The bedding suddenly rose into a small hill. Cheng Xi, standing by the bed, didn’t even look as she leaned back and lay down, her straight gaze filled with complex emotions.

She knew clearly that in the face of money, capital never shows mercy. Only if she became valuable would Chen Zhuoying be unable to touch her. And right now, her path to becoming valuable was to form a “CP” with someone on this show.

Cheng Xi didn’t know how she would feel right now if the person in the room with her today wasn’t Meng Zhijin. Would that person also be dragged down by her? Would she still be thinking this much?

The skylight framed the waxing moon in the glass, and a bright crescent was reflected in Cheng Xi’s pupils. She was fortunate that the person she had to tie herself to for marketing was Meng Zhijin. And unfortunate that it was her.

Creak.

The door was pushed open by the person who had just stepped out. The coldness on Meng Zhijin’s face was visible to the naked eye.

Knowing she was displeased about the situation, Cheng Xi sat up from the bed and spoke to her directly: “Sister Ming called me.”

She didn’t say it explicitly, but Meng Zhijin knew what she meant. Her gaze seemed to shift slightly, or perhaps not at all. She spoke calmly: “Su Jing will handle it.”

It had been an exhausting day. Meng Zhijin’s voice was faint, with an unshakeable fatigue swirling in the thick night. The warm bedroom lighting provided a sense of belonging. Cheng Xi watched Meng Zhijin walk toward her and, as she stood before her, asked: “Do you regret forming a CP with me?”

Cheng Xi spoke without any evasion, her words recorded directly by the camera at the bedside. She stepped out of the show’s script, laying both the benefits and tonight’s trouble before Meng Zhijin. Like a well-meaning merchant waiting for the customer she had “tricked” into coming to make a choice again after realizing there would be constant trouble.

Meng Zhijin looked at Cheng Xi, her eyes deepening. Before she could answer, she felt her body being pulled forward.

The person kneeling on the bed straightened up, her slender arms encircling the other’s neck. Her short loungewear was pulled upward, unapologetically revealing a section of her fair, soft waist.

Merchants aren’t kind-hearted, and foxes never learn to wait obediently.

Cheng Xi blinked slowly and said to the person meeting her gaze: “But it’s too late to regret now. Teacher Meng, you won’t be able to get rid of me in the short term. Even if it’s fake, we have to play our respective roles well.”

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