Going from "Fanservice" to Reality with My Goddess - Chapter 8

Returning to the hotel that evening, Shen Yan had just finished showering and changed into her bathrobe when she heard a knock at the door. Peering through the peephole, she saw it was Yu Nianzhe and opened the door to welcome her in.

Yu Nianzhe stood at the threshold clutching her script, looking somewhat restrained. “May I come in?”

Shen Yan smiled. “Come on in.”

“Mhm.” Yu Nianzhe nodded, but as she looked up, she realized Shen Yan was wearing only a bathrobe. Her face turned bright red instantly, and her usually fluent speech dissolved into a stutter. “Tea… Teacher Shen, you just showered?”

Shen Yan’s hair was still damp; a few strands rested against her shoulder, wetting a small patch of the robe. This made her eyes appear even darker and brighter, like two deep pools that threatened to drown anyone who looked too closely. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, and unlike her usual calm, indifferent self, she carried a unique, lingering charm.

Hearing her go “Tea-Tea-Teacher” without end, Shen Yan almost thought she was going to stutter out “Husband,” but evidently, the girl’s vocabulary was still limited to “Teacher.” Shen Yan blinked, reflecting on that sudden, stray thought for all of three seconds.

She ushered Yu Nianzhe inside and pushed the strange thought to the back of her mind. “Sorry,” Shen Yan said. “It was a tiring day, so I showered first. You don’t mind, do you?”

Shen Yan had been hanging in a wire harness for half the day; exhaustion was written all over her face. She was truly drained. Under normal circumstances, since they were both women, this wouldn’t have mattered.

Yu Nianzhe, however, felt guilty. She had been so focused on asking for help with the script that she had forgotten how long of a day her Goddess had endured. “I don’t mind at all!” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “But will I be disturbing your rest? Maybe I should come back another day…”

Before she could finish, Shen Yan laughed. “It’s no trouble. I can still manage a few rehearsals.” After a pause, she added, “Also, stop using formal pronouns like ‘You’ (Nin). And drop ‘Teacher Shen’ as well.”

Yu Nianzhe nodded, instinctively asking, “Then what should I call you?”

“Call me Sister Shen,” the other woman replied half-jokingly.

Yu Nianzhe: “…”

She agonized over the choice for a moment, feeling too shy to use the more affectionate version, so she settled for a compromise. “Sister Shen.”

Shen Yan acknowledged the name with a hum. She didn’t tease her further and let the title stand.

“Have a seat and wait a moment. I’m going to blow-dry my hair,” Shen Yan said, pouring a glass of water for Yu Nianzhe before turning to leave.

Yu Nianzhe watched with wide eyes as Shen Yan walked into the bathroom. The door clicked shut. She patted her burning cheeks, trying to remain dignified.

Yu Nianzhe! You are a professional! You must control yourself!

She mentally recited a few Buddhist mantras until she finally managed to calm her nerves. Soon, Shen Yan emerged and sat down beside her. They were sitting so close that Yu Nianzhe could smell a faint, lingering fragrance emanating from her.

Suddenly, the mantras stopped working.

To avoid being caught acting strangely, Yu Nianzhe began to inch away little by little, trying to maintain a safe distance. She was mid-scoot when Shen Yan suddenly spoke up.

“I’ve been meaning to ask since you walked in—is the air conditioning too high? Why is your face so red?”

“It’s not, it’s not!” Yu Nianzhe waved her hands frantically, stopping her retreat. Under Shen Yan’s suspicious gaze, she put on a dead-serious face and insisted she was fine. Shen Yan finally let it go, and they began to go over the script.

The next scene involved Feng Ji using her qinggong to fly back to the Eastern Palace, only to find Wen Yan sitting alone in the courtyard playing the zither. It was a pivotal emotional scene.

Lovesick focused heavily on the emotional entanglements between the two leads, with delicate characterizations that required high-level acting. Before starting the rehearsal, Shen Yan asked, “What do you think Wen Yan feels for Feng Ji in this movie?”

Yu Nianzhe thought for a moment. “Wen Yan married into Nanliao alone, with no one to rely on. Though she and Feng Ji are only married in name, in a way, Feng Ji is her only support in this northern land. Added to that, they are both women; this is both a secret she holds over Feng Ji and a primary reason why she is willing to trust her. Wariness is inevitable, but so is dependency. She is naturally more comfortable around women; after living together day and night, falling in love is unavoidable.”

Shen Yan nodded, agreeing with her view.

Yu Nianzhe hesitated, then added, “I also think… would Wen Yan feel a sense of adoration for Feng Ji?”

Shen Yan looked at her. “How so?”

“Wen Yan never received love from her parents or friendship from peers. She was always alone. But after coming to Nanliao, she met Feng Ji. Feng Ji might be the only person in the world who loves her. She gave her a home and a sense of belonging. Feng Ji is like Wen Yan’s…” She paused, then continued, “…like her deity. Feng Ji protects her and cherishes her, so Wen Yan is willing to give everything for her. To sacrifice herself for the god in her heart.”

Shen Yan was stunned. She hadn’t expected Yu Nianzhe to have such a profound interpretation. “Why do you think that?”

Yu Nianzhe lowered her head, her long lashes casting shadows. “It was just… a sudden feeling.”

Shen Yan smiled. “Your ideas are very interesting. I hope you can give the audience a ‘Wen Yan’ that is one of a kind.”

They continued practicing. With the Film Queen’s guidance, Yu Nianzhe’s performance already quite good progressed smoothly. Seeing that it was late, Yu Nianzhe said her goodbyes. Before leaving, she made sure to ask for future rehearsal opportunities, returning to her room satisfied after receiving an affirmative answer.

The actual filming of the scene took place on the set.

Feng Ji had gone to the palace for an audience, but she and the Emperor had a disagreement, leading her to leave in a huff. Returning to her quarters, she found Wen Yan sitting in the courtyard.

This wasn’t the first time Feng Ji had clashed with the Emperor over court affairs. With a fire of frustration burning in her chest, she used her martial arts to leap across the palace walls toward the Prince’s manor. Before she even entered the gates, the sound of strings reached her ears.

Shen Yan landed gracefully and pushed open the door to see Yu Nianzhe sitting in the courtyard, her fingers gently stroking the strings. A melody poured out like a flowing stream—not intense, but deeply soothing.

Night had fallen, and a full moon hung in the sky, casting a silvery moonlight over Yu Nianzhe. The beauty wore a simple white robe, no makeup, and her black hair fell like a waterfall.

Shen Yan stood at the door, watching her in a daze. Whether it was the music or the player, her irritable mood was instantly smoothed away. She quietly leaped onto a tree branch, plucked a leaf, and held it to her lips, joining the melody with a light, airy whistle.

Startled by the sudden sound of the leaf-whistle, Yu Nianzhe’s rhythm faltered for only a second before she looked toward the source. There sat Shen Yan, perched in a Lovesick tree.

When she first arrived in Nanliao, the red beans were ripe—a landscape of fierce, passionate red. Now that the weather had turned cold, the beans and green leaves had mostly fallen, leaving only sparse branches swaying in the wind. Shen Yan sat there leisurely, one leg braced against a branch and the other swinging freely, as if keeping time with the music.

The leaf-whistle echoed from the tree as the zither played beneath the moon. Though it was their first time collaborating on a musical scene, their chemistry was unexpectedly perfect.

As the song ended, Shen Yan leaped from the tree and landed lightly on the ground. Yu Nianzhe gasped; the tree was old and tall, and she hadn’t expected Shen Yan to jump down directly.

“My Lady is truly a Princess of Dongyuan; your zither playing is exceptional,” Shen Yan joked. “Are all the daughters of Dongyuan as skilled in the arts as you?”

Yu Nianzhe gave a faint smile but said nothing of herself, asking instead: “How did Your Highness learn to play the leaf-whistle?”

“No one taught me the zither or embroidery, so I learned this while sneaking out of the palace,” Shen Yan replied with a wink, her usual nonchalant smile playing on her lips. “Staying in this palace all day is truly tedious. One day, I’ll take you out to see the world.”

Yu Nianzhe was stunned and wanted to say something, but the words stayed in her throat. Shen Yan took off her outer robe and draped it over the girl’s shoulders, leaning in close with a gentle tone: “It’s cold at night. You should return to your room and rest, My Lady.”

“(Very good), this take is a wrap,” Duan Yi nodded with satisfaction. He smiled at Yu Nianzhe. “Xiao Yu, you’re really getting into the zone.”

“Not at all,” Yu Nianzhe replied. “I still have much to learn from you and the other teachers.”

Ye Wu chimed in with a laugh, “No need to be humble. Everyone sees your performance.”

Zhuo Ningxiao added, “That’s right. Xiao Yu works so hard; she’s doing great.” Although she spoke with a smile, it made Yu Nianzhe’s skin crawl. She knew exactly what kind of person Zhuo Ningxiao was. Woman, why bother saying things you don’t mean?

During a break between subsequent emotional scenes, Yu Nianzhe was looking at her phone when someone sat down beside her. “What are you looking at so intently?”

She looked up to see Shen Yan and tilted the phone toward her. “Nothing much, just some photos I took when I was bored.”

Interested, Shen Yan scrolled through a few. She stopped at one particular image. It was a photo of a butterfly just emerging from its chrysalis, about to take flight. The golden wings caught the light, radiating a vivid, palpable sense of life.

“You took this yourself? Your technique is very good,” Shen Yan remarked.

“It’s just a little hobby,” Yu Nianzhe smiled. “I just snap photos whenever I have free time.”

Shen Yan scrolled further and saw that most were landscapes or objects. “Do you take portraits?” she asked with a smile.

Yu Nianzhe blinked. “I do, but rarely. If you’re interested, Sister Shen, I’ll bring my camera and take a few of you when we go back.”

“It’s a deal,” Shen Yan winked.

Just then, someone called out, “Teacher Yu, Director Duan is looking for you!”

Yu Nianzhe acknowledged the call and said to Shen Yan, “Sister Shen, you keep looking; I’ll be right back.”

Shen Yan continued to scroll through the photos. The subjects were diverse ranging from wild landscapes to the minutiae of daily life. The time span of the photos was large; she could see the clear improvement in skill and style from the early shots to the recent ones.

Curious, Shen Yan scrolled all the way to the very beginning to see what this “photographer” had started with. She clicked on the very first photo in the album.

As the image expanded, Shen Yan froze.

The photo was of a woman. She was facing away from the camera, showing only a small portion of her profile. Though the photo had been edited and the face was blurred due to the lighting and angle, her features remained indistinct.

Yet, looking only at the silhouette, Shen Yan felt a hazy, ethereal sense of beauty. And though it felt incredibly vain to think so, she couldn’t help but feel that the person in the photo looked exactly like herself.