After the Divorce, the Whole World is Waiting for Us to Get Back Together - Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Meng Zhijin hadn’t expected that in less than a day, she and Cheng Xi would already have a “CP name”—and that was without any intervention from their respective studios.

She looked at the four stylized characters for “Qian Cheng Si Jin” on the Q-version image. The color was violet, a shade both she and Cheng Xi loved. She truly felt these fans were incredibly thoughtful.

She wondered how the shippers would feel if they knew one of the “leads” was lurking in their chat group using an alt account.

But as one of the subjects of the ship, Meng Zhijin actually accepted the invitation from Cheng Xi’s big fan, long-pressing the image to identify the QR code and join the group.

Perhaps because she was invited directly, her approval was swift. She had barely typed the “Qian Cheng Si Jin” secret code into the join request before she was let in.

To be honest, Meng Zhijin had spent a long time in closed training abroad for The Silence over the past two years and rarely touched these things. “Qian Cheng Si Jin” was the only group in her chat list, looking a bit lonely in her empty app.

However, while it looked lonely from the outside, the inside was like a festival—noisy and bustling.

The newly formed group already had hundreds of members. Seeing a newcomer join, the “welcome firecrackers” went off immediately.

“Welcome, sister! May your future be as bright as ‘Qian Cheng Si Jin’!”

“Welcome, new sister!”

“Hugs to the new sister!”

“Kisses~”

Meng Zhijin watched the welcome messages and emojis flood the chat box. For the first time, she felt the warmth created by language, similar to the passion of fans greeting her at an airport.

Except, right now, she was different from her usual self. They were welcoming a “commoner” so warmly simply because they shared a common love. This kind of affection didn’t make her feel jealous or shy. Instead, it gave her an indescribable warmth, as if all the kindness the world had for her and Cheng Xi was gathered here.

As Meng Zhijin was thinking, a coincidentally significant number appeared in someone’s message: “Hey, this is our 627th member! That’s our Little Fox’s birthday! How awesome!”

Meng Zhijin also felt it was a coincidence. She was about to type “Hello everyone” to get acquainted, but before her “elderly” typing speed could finish a sentence, the previous message was washed away by a wave of emojis.

“Flowers”

“Music”

“Join the group and instantly get 626 sisters! What are you waiting for?”

“Join the group and instantly get 626 sisters! What are you waiting for?”

Meng Zhijin wasn’t used to this. She didn’t know how to jump into the conversation, or if she even should. It was the big fan who pulled her in who finally called a timeout: “Alright, you’re scaring her so much she doesn’t dare speak.”

Then, someone with an avatar made from a candid shot of Meng Zhijin at an event popped up: “Sister, don’t be afraid. Since you ship ‘Qian Cheng Si Jin’ too, we’re family. Come sleep with us tonight. [Pats bed]]

Someone immediately called them out: “Teacher Sleep, please put on your pants before talking.”

The person refused: “Teacher Sleep has rejected your request and hugged her Little Fox.”

Meng Zhijin frowned at the line, her eyes moving to the person’s nickname: When can I dream of Teacher Sleep?

No wonder they called her “Teacher Sleep.”

Somehow, Meng Zhijin felt that nickname looked a little familiar. But before she could remember why, her attention was pulled back to the chat.

A second after “Teacher Sleep” spoke, someone else voiced Meng Zhijin’s inner thought: “Sorry, the Fox belongs to Teacher Meng now.”

Seeing this, Meng Zhijin’s brow smoothed out.

Just then, a private message popped up at the top of her screen. It was Cheng Xi’s big fan: “Welcome, sister! You came so fast. The group was just made, so there isn’t much content yet, but don’t worry, there’ll be plenty soon!”

Meng Zhijin didn’t usually talk much to this person; she simply typed a “Mhm” back.

As for how Meng Zhijin knew this fan, it traced back to a year ago. Cheng Xi had a movie coming out, and there was a lot of promotional merchandise and crowdfunding. Meng Zhijin had just finished her training for The Silence and, being unfamiliar with shopping apps other than the mainstream ones, accidentally added an extra zero to her donation on the crowdfunding interface. Although the payment was successful, the big fan had come to her, trembling, to verify that string of zeros.

The big fan’s impression of Meng Zhijin was that she was a bit cold, didn’t talk much, and didn’t like crowds, but she was very generous with money. Knowing the importance of keeping such a “big whale” around for Cheng Xi, the fan added: “Our Fox and Teacher Meng are just too sweet. We’ve attracted a lot of new fans, and everyone is active. If you don’t feel like chatting, you don’t have to. It’s okay to just lurk. Do whatever makes you comfortable.”

Then she sent a meme of Cheng Xi on the sofa in the Romantic Cabin, hugging a pillow, with the caption: “Living in peace with the world.”

Looking at Cheng Xi on the screen, a smile appeared in Meng Zhijin’s eyes. Her slender fingers tapped the keyboard; two seconds later, the fan received her “Okay.”

After making sure this VIP didn’t leave the group, the fan breathed a huge sigh of relief. She didn’t know that behind the screen, Meng Zhijin was remembering Xiao Qi’s appearance and saving the meme.

“Do you have more memes like this?” Meng Zhijin asked.

The fan nodded instantly and replied enthusiastically: “Yes, yes, yes! Wait a sec, I’ll be quick!”

Meng Zhijin kept it simple: “Okay.”

The fan didn’t keep her waiting. Soon, her phone began to buzz incessantly. Images of Cheng Xi flooded in—cute, cold, or even a bit eccentric and “sand-sculpture” (goofy) memes. They filled her screen, surrounding her.

They also helped her fill in those two missing years. Even if it was just a few colored puzzle pieces in a vast darkness.

Meng Zhijin watched them.

Suddenly, the door was pushed open from the outside. Cheng Xi was back.

The usually calm Meng Zhijin jerked her head up and quickly hid the phone under her: “You’re back?”

“Yeah,” Cheng Xi walked toward the cabinet by the bed to charge her phone. “It’s a shame you weren’t there just now.”

“We were playing ‘Old Maid’ downstairs. Six rounds, and Taro (Yu Tong) lost every single one. Her face is covered in paper strips.”

Cheng Xi unplugged her phone again and climbed onto the bed in a few quick steps. She moved nimbly, showing the photo she took of Yu Tong to Meng Zhijin: “Look.”

Meng Zhijin looked at the photo, but her attention was entirely on Cheng Xi. She couldn’t remember how many times she and Cheng Xi had suddenly been this close. This person seemed completely unaware of the intimacy of her actions. Her breathing hadn’t settled from the walk up; her breath landed on Meng Zhijin’s skin, scorching hot.

Those fox-like eyes were bright and as sincere as a child’s. She was sharing the interesting things she had just experienced, just like every time she came home back when they were still together.

The room fell silent. Cheng Xi’s ears were sharp; she paused in showing the photo and then looked at Meng Zhijin curiously: “Teacher Meng, did you leave an alarm on? Why do I hear a phone buzzing?”

“Sister Jing sent me some things just now. Quite a lot,” Meng Zhijin explained, delivering the clumsiest performance of her acting career.

However, Cheng Xi’s focus was entirely on the game they had just played. She didn’t notice the abnormality at all, nor did she link it to herself. She just said “Oh” and grumbled, “Teacher Meng, you really are busy.”

“Even though the afternoon probably won’t be edited into the show, you should come out and play with us. You can’t nourish your body just by drinking Chinese medicine.”

“Next time,” Meng Zhijin promised. Looking at Cheng Xi, she picked up the topic that had been interrupted by the buzzing: “What about you?”

“Me?” Cheng Xi pointed at herself, the smile in her eyes turning mischievous. She looked at Meng Zhijin with flamboyant pride and laughed: “I was the winner, of course.”

“Please, I’m the ancestor of foxes.”

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gilding Cheng Xi’s dark eyes. Meng Zhijin thought of the meme the fan had just sent—Cheng Xi with her chin tilted up and the caption: You’re not on my level.

It was as if the shadows were receding from her, making her look a bit like she used to. Others didn’t like her arrogance and wanted to clip her sharp wings. But Meng Zhijin thought those thorns were breathtakingly beautiful. They radiated a sparkling temptation, attracting those who loved her.

It made her want to hide her away, keep her by her side, and nurture her. Then, enjoy her all to herself.

The next morning, a few drops of rain fell. The ground was wet, but it didn’t relieve the summer heat; instead, it felt muggy. The production team had likely anticipated the weather, as the mission locations for these two days were indoors.

Recently, the topic of “Intangible Cultural Heritage” (ICH) had been trending, being a project heavily supported by the state. Today, the group went to the city’s ICH center to experience traditional arts in modern civilization.

The four couples were to experience four different projects: Seal Carving, Paper Cutting, Xuan Paper making, and Velvet Flower making. They would earn points by completing tasks set by the masters.

Cheng Xi didn’t know much about these crafts. She had only heard of them and didn’t know which was easiest. Perhaps wanting to compensate Meng Zhijin for “scamming” her during the room selection, she let Meng Zhijin draw the card this time.

Under the bright lights of the hall, Meng Zhijin walked toward the director. From behind, her silhouette looked even more superior than Xu Changyan’s, who was a model. Cheng Xi watched her, her mind unreadable.

Then she saw Meng Zhijin return with the card. “What is it? What is it?”

Meng Zhijin didn’t tell her immediately but showed her the card. On the white card was a fluffy Long-tailed Tit, and beneath its claws were two bold characters: Velvet Flower.

Cheng Xi had thought making velvet flowers wouldn’t be too hard. She had seen videos of it before and thought it was just a matter of matching colors and doing “this and that.” Who knew it wouldn’t be that simple?

The real-time production was slow and meticulous. The extremely thin wire was pinched by the master’s fingers; the calluses on his hands made one’s own hands ache just looking at them.

After the master finished the demonstration, he led them into practice—attempting to make a simple three-petal flower. It didn’t even have to be a specific species; any flower would do, as long as it used the basic velvet flower shape.

Cheng Xi picked her thread and chose the colors for her first piece. Then she followed the master to the first hurdle: Brushing the velvet.

The master slowly picked up two strands of silk thread; Cheng Xi followed. The master used a bristle brush to smooth the silk; Cheng Xi followed. The master’s silk became transparent and lustrous; Cheng Xi…

Cheng Xi’s silk got knotted.

Distressed, Cheng Xi turned to look at Meng Zhijin sitting on her other side. The sunlight filtered through the swaying trees in the courtyard, softly falling on Meng Zhijin. Her plain dress lay flat around her. Even sitting on a cushion without support, her back was perfectly straight. Her slender neck was tilted slightly in the light, carrying the grace and aura of an ancient noble—aloof and beautiful.

No wonder the “Senior Sister” in wuxia novels was always loved by so many juniors. Who wouldn’t love someone so powerful and beautiful?

Cheng Xi felt that Meng Zhijin was like the top student in high school who could always keep up with the math teacher’s last complex problem. In her hands, the silk became lustrous and smooth after just a few strokes.

“…”

The urge to hide her “failed math test” in the back of her desk hit Cheng Xi. She wanted to hide this tangled mess of silk.

“Do it like this. This hand holds the thread tight first.”

But someone seemed to have read her mind. A shadow fell over her from behind. Meng Zhijin had stood up and walked over, encircling Cheng Xi from behind. As her voice fell, her well-defined hand grasped Cheng Xi’s hand—the one holding the bristle brush.

In the sweltering summer heat, Cheng Xi’s back was entirely enveloped by the warm, fragrant scent pressing toward her from the “Senior Sister.”

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