After My Flash Marriage with the Movie Queen - Chapter 27

Even though her wife had once again hung up on her, Zhao Xunyin was in a particularly good mood after the call. Watching her grin from ear to ear, An He—who hadn’t been in love for years—couldn’t help but complain,

“Seriously? You’re smiling like a blooming flower after a phone call. Is your little wife really that cute?”

Zhao Xunyin hummed in affirmation. But as if realizing that one “hmm” couldn’t possibly capture how adorable Shi Nanbei was, she added with a bright smile,

“She’s very cute.”

An He fell silent.

Was she here just to eat this woman’s dog food?

To be honest, An He felt a twinge of envy. Ever since marrying that black-hearted woman Qi Yu, she hadn’t heard anyone call her “cute” in years.

She thought back—though she’d never been wildly popular, she had once been quite the beauty in the entertainment industry. Back then, countless rich men and politicians had fallen head over heels for her.

And what did she do? She must’ve been possessed—because she went and married Qi Yu, that infuriating black-hearted woman.

Thinking of the past, An He sighed, her tone suddenly turning reflective.

“Actually, speaking from my many years of marital experience,” she said earnestly, like some kind of marriage guru, “your kind of thinking is dangerous.”

She continued, with the solemn air of someone who’d seen through the ways of the world:

“Love is the most unreliable thing in existence.”

No one really knew how many storms she’d weathered to come to that conclusion. Outsiders might’ve assumed her marriage was on the rocks. But in truth, she was doing very well—by every measure possible.

After all, Qi Yu’s love for her wife was well-known throughout the industry.

“I don’t know if your love is unreliable,” Zhao Xunyin replied mildly, lips curving in a small smile, “but mine—and my girl’s—is rock solid.”

Her words sounded harmless, almost casual. But they landed squarely on An He’s sore spot.

“You” An He glared at her. But knowing she could neither outargue nor outwit Zhao Xunyin, she wisely dropped the subject.

Changing topics, An He asked, “By the way, what did Juan-jie say about your marriage announcement?”

Juan-jie, Zhao Xunyin’s manager of nearly ten years, was both mentor and friend to her.

“What could she say?” Zhao Xunyin shrugged. “Of course she doesn’t approve of me going public with it.”

And indeed, ever since Zhao Xunyin had announced her marriage, some resources had quietly slipped away. In today’s entertainment world, married women were still treated with more bias than single ones. Even a Best Actress like Zhao Xunyin wasn’t immune to those unspoken rules.

Otherwise, An He herself wouldn’t have chosen to retire from acting after marrying Qi Yu.

(Granted, a big part of that was also because she realized—no matter how much effort she put in—she just wasn’t destined to be a megastar.)

After chatting idly for a while, Zhao Xunyin decided it was late and headed to bed.

The next day’s schedule was packed. Ever since she’d announced her marriage, reporters were circling like sharks, desperate to dig up the identity of her mysterious spouse.

Zhao Xunyin, with years of experience in the industry, could already predict exactly how chaotic tomorrow would be.

Sure enough, the next morning unfolded exactly as she expected.

The moment she appeared in public, a sea of microphones and cameras surrounded her. Reporters’ questions came rapid-fire, every one of them circling back to the same topic—her marriage.

“Zhao Xunyin, is it true you’re married? You’ve never had any public relationships before. Why the sudden wedding?”

“Can you tell us who your wife is? How old is she? Fans are very curious about your love life.”

“What does your company think about your sudden marriage announcement?”

“Is your marriage connected to Tianhao Entertainment’s chairwoman, Shu Yu?”

At that question, the entire crowd fell silent.

Everyone wanted to ask that—but few dared to be so blunt. After all, Zhao Xunyin was the industry’s top actress, known for maintaining good relationships with the press. Her studio even sent out holiday gifts every year. No one wanted to offend her. But apparently, one overeager rookie reporter had decided to risk it.

Zhao Xunyin’s expression remained composed as she looked at the reporter and said evenly,

“My marriage concerns only me and my wife.”

“It has nothing to do with anyone else.”

Her tone was calm, clear, and final.

Now over thirty, Zhao Xunyin hadn’t had any public scandals in years—except for that ancient rumor linking her to Shu Yu. Many had assumed she’d never recovered from that breakup. But then—boom—out of nowhere, she announced she was married. The entertainment press went into a frenzy.

Naturally, every outlet wanted to be the first to uncover her mystery spouse.

Unfortunately for them, Zhao Xunyin had long since mastered the art of talking without revealing a single useful detail. No matter how they pressed, her words were watertight. Not a drop of gossip could be wrung from her.

While Zhao Xunyin was busy juggling interviews and work, far away in Chengdu, Shi Nanbei wasn’t exactly idle either.

Ever since she’d revealed her relationship with Zhao Xunyin to her dormmates, they’d been looking at her very differently. Especially Wu Lili, who now couldn’t stop smiling every time she looked at her—smiling so strangely, in fact, that

Shi Nanbei was starting to feel seriously pressured.

Today, Zhao Xunyin had somehow landed on Weibo’s trending page again.

Actually, she’d been trending a lot lately. And since modern college girls spent most of their waking hours on Weibo when not eating, sleeping, or studying, her dormmates followed every single update with obsessive enthusiasm.

Whenever Zhao Xunyin trended, they immediately pounced on the topic—then turned to stare at Shi Nanbei with increasingly mischievous grins.

“Nanbei, someone’s claiming your wife used to hook up with a C-list actress. You know anything about that?”

“Yeah, the post sounds super convincing. Is it true?”

Ever since Zhao Xunyin had gone public about her marriage, Weibo had been flooded with people claiming to have had “some kind of connection” with her—from childhood classmates to old co-stars. Netizens were analyzing each one like a case file, trying to figure out who the mysterious wife could be.

Facing her roommates’ eager looks, the twenty-one-year-old Shi Nanbei was already used to this routine.

She knew exactly what they wanted.

So, under their expectant gazes, she calmly pulled out her phone and sent a WeChat message to the contact labeled “Old Woman.”

Nanbei the Brave: Weibo says you and Chen Yun were exes?

Two minutes later, Zhao Xunyin replied—concise as ever:

Old Woman: Fake.

Shi Nanbei looked up at her dormmates and declared, “Fake.”

They nodded knowingly with a synchronized “Oh,” then immediately moved on to the next round of gossip.

Before Shi Nanbei could even put her phone away, another roommate piped up,

“Nanbei, is it true that that Y-surnamed actor got caught cheating and doing drugs?”

Shi Nanbei: “…”

With a sigh, Shi Nanbei copied the question and sent it to Zhao Xunyin.

Old Woman: Only cheating.

Shi Nanbei dutifully relayed the answer, and the dorm erupted into delighted chatter. They went on to fire a barrage of entertainment gossip questions, all of which Shi Nanbei relayed in real time.

Some Zhao Xunyin answered, others she ignored.

After finally placating the horde of gossip-hungry roommates, Shi Nanbei sent another message:

Nanbei the Brave: Am I making things hard for you?

Old Woman: Not at all. Why would you think that?

Nanbei the Brave: I just, don’t know how to turn them down.

In truth, her roommates hadn’t reacted negatively when they learned of her relationship with Zhao Xunyin. They were mostly just curious—after all, it wasn’t every day you found out your dormmate was married to a movie queen. They simply wanted to ask questions, not spread rumors.

When Shi Nanbei had first told Zhao Xunyin about it, she’d even asked whether she’d mind.

Zhao Xunyin’s response?

“Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to tell you any real secrets?”

Shi Nanbei had been left speechless.

She really couldn’t compete with this movie queen’s level of composure.

Sobs internally.

After chatting for a while, Zhao Xunyin disappeared again—probably busy. Shi Nanbei, long used to her vanishing acts, didn’t mind and went back to reading.

Chengdu’s weather was getting hotter by the day, and with the dorm’s air conditioning still off, she was soon sweating buckets. Her roommates, too, were trying to study but looked equally miserable.

“Ugh, it’s so hot,” Shi Nanbei finally said sincerely. “Why don’t we find somewhere else to study?”

Even the calmest one in the dorm, Yang Shan, lost her composure at that. She rolled her eyes and said flatly,

“You’re not dragging us to the morgue again, are you?”

Everyone in the dorm knew about this. Every summer before the AC was turned on, Shi Nanbei would head to the anatomy lab’s morgue to study.

Why?

“Don’t you think it’s quiet there? And cool. No one disturbs you, so you can really focus.”

Thus spoke the hardcore med student, Shi Nanbei.

The others: “……”

Even though they were all medical students, none of them were that brave.

Back in freshman year, after Shi Nanbei first discovered that “perfectly cool study spot,” she’d even enthusiastically invited her roommates to join her.

Several boys who’d once wanted to pursue her gave up instantly after hearing about that little hobby.

Because, well—sure, they were med students too.

But not that hardcore.