After My Flash Marriage with the Movie Queen - Chapter 103

Zhao Xunyin had been confessed to plenty of times since she was young, but never—never—in a way like this. Her manager came over to tell her about the trending topic online just as she finished a scene.

She had spent more than a month studying acting for this drama she’d invested in. Once this project wrapped, she would have nearly four months off. So, no matter how exhausting the early stages were, she pushed herself hard for the sake of that long vacation.

She had just returned to the lounge after filming, hadn’t even taken a sip of water yet, when her manager came over holding her phone.

“Tsk. I really didn’t expect your wife—who looks so adorable and innocent—to be this cool when she wants to be.”

Zhao Xunyin rolled her eyes. Ever since she accidentally revealed her alt account on Weibo and got mocked by the entire internet for three days straight, her manager had been taking every opportunity to tease her about her wife.

The first couple of times, Zhao Xunyin still felt a little shy. But as time passed, she got used to it. At this point, no matter what her manager said about Shi Nanbei, she could keep a straight face.

In short—don’t talk, don’t listen, don’t respond.

But this time, she couldn’t stay calm.

Her manager sat down beside her. “Girl, I’m not trying to rain on your parade, but honestly—how did you manage to marry a top-tier, collectible-level wife like that?”

Zhao Xunyin sipped her water and answered lazily, “On the strength of my overwhelming beauty. Problem?”

Manager: “…”

“If we’re talking beauty, your wife’s no slouch either,” the manager continued, scrolling through Weibo comments as she talked. “I really don’t get what she sees in you. She’s young, gorgeous, talented and apparently an insane gamer.

First place in the entire server! She must’ve spent a ton of effort on this confession, right?”

Zhao Xunyin replied with a vague “Mm,” still looking at her script.

About ten seconds later, she suddenly registered what her manager had said.

“What did you just say? Confession? What effort? What are you talking about?”

Her manager stared at her as if she was an idiot. “Are you serious? You’ve flaunted your relationship so much it’s splashing on me now.”

A spark went off in Zhao Xunyin’s mind. Her heart started thumping uncontrollably.

She leaned forward urgently.

“Say it. Quickly. What did she do? What kind of confession?”

Seeing Zhao Xunyin’s expression, the manager finally realized she truly had no idea. She was speechless for a moment, but thinking it through, it made sense. Ever since the last PR disaster, the company had confiscated Zhao Xunyin’s Weibo account and prohibited her from posting anything. With the drama filming, she had been too busy to even return to Chengdu. If Shi Nanbei wanted to hide something from her, it wouldn’t be hard.

The manager rolled her eyes. Honestly, she was completely done with this couple. They’d never even dated before marriage, yet they managed to be more disgustingly lovey-dovey than couples together for twenty years.

Seriously? Were they trying to be this good at the whole “married first, fell in love later” routine?

She shoved the phone into Zhao Xunyin’s hands.

“Here. Take it. Don’t ask me anymore. I don’t want to eat another bite of your dog food. I’m done.”

Zhao Xunyin took the phone. The screen was on the trending topic #EverythingAboutNanbeiBelongsToZhaoXunyin.

Pinned to the top was a post from an esports enthusiast analyzing Shi Nanbei’s “confession”:

“Many people who don’t play DOTA probably don’t understand just how enviable this confession from Zhao Xunyin’s wife really is.

I’ve been a casual DOTA player for ten years. Let me explain how absolutely insane this is.

The team named ‘Everything About Nanbei Belongs to Zhao Xunyin’ was created just 17 days ago. After forming, they registered for a non-official tournament.

Why non-official? Because to compete in official championships, players need three years of experience as professional esports athletes.

I looked up public information on Nanbei and her teammates. They’ve clearly been playing DOTA for years and at a very high level, but for some reason they’ve never joined any esports teams or accepted any professional invitations. They literally play just for fun.

JUST FOR FUN—and they’re this good? I’m ready to kneel and call her daddy.

In this tournament, Nanbei and her teammates fought their way through every round and reached the top of the entire server in only 16 days.

Why reach first place?

Because once you enter DOTA, the moment you step into the game’s world, the first-place team’s name is displayed for everyone to see.

In other words, Nanbei used this to confess to her wife in front of the entire server.

Let me be clear—even a non-official tournament is extremely hard to climb to first place in.

Honestly, why hasn’t she debuted? Why isn’t she competing professionally?

With that face, that skill, that arrogant aura—I just want to have her babies.

From what I’ve seen, the entire server is currently crying over the sheer beauty of this love story, and deeply jealous that Zhao Xunyin has such an incredible wife.

First place in the whole server just to put up that name and confess.

I’m done. I’m so jealous.

There were over thirty thousand comments under that post:

“Just now, my boyfriend—who’s a die-hard esports fan—asked me when he’d get a chance to confess to me the way Nanbei did. [smile]”

“My boyfriend has been jealous since yesterday. 【bye】 After coming home from work, he immediately went to watch Zhao Junyin’s wife’s match replay—while watching he kept giving me commentary. I swear I never thought a simple game could make me eat this much dog food.”

“I used to think Zhao Xunyin was already the ultimate wife-showoff. Turns out her wife is even worse. Truly the king of showing off.”

“Am I the only one who noticed the hidden meaning in her wife’s team name? Did you all forget how last time Zhao Xunyin asked online what to do because her wife’s time was always being stolen by others? 【smile】

So is her wife responding to that now? — That all of Nanbei belongs to Zhao Xunyin? Damn, this bowl of dog food just got kicked straight into my face!”

“I’ve had enough of these two. Is there no mercy for us single dogs?”

“Before, it was only us girls crying over their perfect love. But now, after that counter-move by her wife, even the boys around me are jealous. 【bye】

My little brother just said, ‘If only Shi Nanbei wasn’t married.’ 【laugh-cry】 She’s apparently his ideal type.”

“To the person above: tell your brother to draw his sword. Shi Nanbei is my ideal type—come fight me!”

“Can you people have some shame? I wasn’t even going to say anything, but fine—Shi Nanbei is actually my wife.”

“Bro above, how much did you drink? Maybe eat something, stop downing liquor.”

“Damn it, I hate Zhao Xunyin. I’ll never forgive her for stealing my wife!”

“I hate Zhao Xunyin too. 【cry】 Why does the big boss have to like women? What’s wrong with us boys? We want to be liked by the big boss too! We want a server-wide public confession too!”

“Give it up. 【sob】 You’re not alone—our girl hearts are hurting too.”

“For the first time, I truly understand the despair of watching the girl I adore sleep with the girl I dream of loving. 【heartbreak】”

Zhao Xunyin read every comment intently, the tips of her ears—peeking out beneath her pinned-up hair—turning suspiciously red. After watching her for a long time, her manager finally couldn’t hold back.

“Are you serious? You’re literally blushing just from looking at your phone. If you actually saw your wife right now, would you faint from excitement on the spot?”

Zhao Xunyin looked up, her eyes shining. In all the ten-plus years they’d known each other, her manager had never seen her this happy, this thrilled. The teasing remark that had been ready on her tongue completely jammed.

“Do you want to calm down a bit?” the manager asked nervously. She was genuinely afraid Zhao Xunyin might get so worked up that she’d impulsively hop on the next flight to Chengdu just to pour her heart out to her wife.

“Do I look not calm?” Zhao Xunyin asked.

Her manager nodded. “You don’t.”

Hearing that, Zhao Xunyin suddenly laughed. “I don’t feel calm at all.”

She had never imagined that one day, someone would confess to her in such a way. She’d heard from Wu Lili—Shi Nanbei’s roommate—about how much Shi loved gaming, and she had seen for herself the way Shi Nanbei would sink into the screen every time she was playing during holidays.

She knew people Shi Nanbei’s age often had their hobbies—whether it was the internet or games. She was young once, too; she understood that passion.

But that didn’t mean she’d never been frustrated: she was so busy, so guarded, so stubborn and awkward; their time together was so short, and there were so many things she wanted to say, to do, but never got around to. She didn’t want Shi Nanbei spending her energy on anything—or anyone—other than her.

She knew she was greedy. The more time she spent with Shi Nanbei, the more she wanted to claim all of her, to have every inch of that girl’s world carved with her name—Zhao Xunyin.

She feared loving too fiercely, too urgently. Maybe it was because she’d been hurt before, and the scars still ached. She was scared; she backed down. She never dared show too much. She kept everything locked inside, terrified of overwhelming the girl who was far younger than she was.

Love made her want to draw near yet pull back; to reach out yet retreat. Thirty-four years old, yet still a child in front of love.

But Shi Nanbei had always understood.

She knew her.

She saw her.

She knew everything she wanted, even the things she never said. And she accepted all of Zhao Xunyin’s greed, responding in her own way—declaring that everything she had belonged to Zhao Xunyin.

Everything of Nanbei belonged to Zhao Xunyin—her time, her devotion.

As long as Zhao Xunyin wanted it, as long as she had it, she would give her all of it.