After My Flash Marriage with the Movie Queen - Chapter 31

Zhao Xunyin nearly burst out laughing at those words. Shi Nanbei had always been a bright one back in school, but sometimes her thought process really took a detour. Anyone could tell that as an actress, Zhao Xunyin needed to maintain her figure. Yet the first thing that came to Shi Nanbei’s mind when she heard Zhao say she hadn’t eaten much was—she must be broke.

So, Zhao Xunyin, amused beyond words, played along, grinning as she said, “Yes, yes, I’m out of money.”

“How could you be out of money?” Shi Nanbei blinked, confused. “Didn’t you just say you don’t even know how much money you have?”

Keeping a perfectly straight face, Zhao Xunyin replied, “That was a couple of years ago. You know how bad the economy’s been lately, right? I haven’t filmed much these past two years. Being a celebrity comes with huge expenses—if my

spending’s overtaken my income, it’s not impossible that I’ve gone broke.”

“Ah.” Shi Nanbei frowned. That actually made sense. It wasn’t impossible. Her expression turned serious. If she hadn’t asked today, would Zhao Xunyin have just kept it to herself? See—this was what was wrong with older people; they always wanted to maintain their pride in front of the younger ones.

And now she’s so poor she can’t even afford a meal.

Too tragic.

So, to comfort her “wife,” Shi Nanbei adopted the earnest and dependable air of a loyal young puppy and took Zhao Xunyin’s hand. “It’s okay if you’re broke,” she said sincerely. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

Inside, Zhao Xunyin was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, but outwardly she put on a show of bashful surprise, feigned shyness, and disbelief. “You, you wouldn’t mind that I’m poor?” she asked softly.

“Of course not!” Shi Nanbei’s serious tone was so guileless that even her grandmother—who had seen through all worldly desires—would have sighed at how hopelessly naive she was.

“I’ll never let you go hungry. My grandma’s saved up a big dowry for me!” she declared solemnly.

The assistant beside them: “…”

Are you stupid? Seriously—are you? You think you’re being all considerate and adorable, huh? Maybe use that medical brain of yours for once! You really believe a Best Actress doesn’t have money?

Have some sense, please!

The assistant finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Nanbei,” she said, exasperated, “do you not know what actresses actually eat?”

“What do you mean, what they eat?” Shi Nanbei blinked blankly.

“To maintain their figures,” the assistant explained, looking utterly resigned to life, “female stars avoid anything spicy, fried, or fermented.”

Shi Nanbei stared at her, confused. “I didn’t know that.”

The assistant: “…”

Aren’t you supposed to know everything?

Still skeptical, Shi Nanbei said, “But I always see them posting food pics on Weibo.”

The assistant sighed deeply. “That’s just part of their image. They post the photo, then hand the food off to their assistants. It’s to keep up the illusion that they can eat anything and stay thin. You’re a med student—do you really think people like that exist?”

“Sure there are,” Shi Nanbei said earnestly. “If their thyroid is overactive, it increases metabolism, which means they can eat a lot but not gain weight. They’d actually get thinner.”

The assistant: “…”

Please. Just stop talking.

Still, Shi Nanbei couldn’t help turning to Zhao Xunyin, then back at the assistant, and asked hesitantly, “So, the food you post on Weibo isn’t real either?”

Before Zhao Xunyin could answer, the assistant jumped in with a look that clearly said don’t corrupt the kid. “It’s real, but she doesn’t actually eat it,” the assistant explained. “She takes the photo and then either doesn’t touch it or, if she does, she throws it up immediately.”

Shi Nanbei was shocked. She’d never imagined actresses lived such a self-torturing life.

In the end, she ordered Zhao Xunyin a bowl of boiled cabbage—and even asked several times if it was enough. Zhao Xunyin wanted to laugh. She’d once gone three days without eating anything but nutritional fluids just to look good on camera. But if she said that out loud, her silly wife would probably look even more distressed, so she just smiled and reassured her, saying she didn’t have to diet all the time.

“I really think your job’s too hard,” Shi Nanbei said, still worried. “You know the human body needs a balanced intake of nutrients every day.”

And so, Zhao Xunyin sat there for ten full minutes, listening to her little doctor-to-be lecture about the importance of three daily meals before it hit her—oh right, she’s dating a future doctor.

To change the subject, Zhao Xunyin asked, “So, my Xiao Beibei, what kind of doctor do you want to be after you graduate?”

That one phrase—my Xiao Beibei—caught Shi Nanbei completely off guard. She never thought Zhao Xunyin would call her that in front of the assistant. Her face went bright red, her lips moved a few times, and she finally stammered out,

“W-Why are you calling me that!”

Her voice even slipped into a soft Taiwanese accent. Zhao Xunyin almost laughed herself into crow’s feet.

When Wu Lili walked into the private room, she was greeted by the sight of the famously aloof and cold movie queen—who was said to only give polite, perfunctory smiles to others—grinning from ear to ear at Shi Nanbei.

Wu Lili froze.

Wait a minute. That radiant, laughing woman, why did she look exactly like her goddess?

While she was still wondering if she’d barged into the wrong room, Zhao Xunyin noticed her at the door. And in that instant—the seventh year of Wu Lili’s unrequited fandom—fate rewarded her with a chance to lock eyes with her goddess, thanks to her innocent and oblivious roommate.

Wu Lili’s heart nearly stopped. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself at Zhao Xunyin’s feet and beg her to spend the night together. But reason prevailed. After all, Zhao Xunyin was Shi Nanbei’s wife now. And though she was a die-hard fangirl, she wasn’t about to make an enemy of that adorable fool.

“Hello,” Zhao Xunyin greeted her with a warm smile.

Wu Lili nearly did a backflip on the spot. Still, clinging to the last shred of a fan’s dignity, she forced out a polite smile and said,

“Hello, my dear wife.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Wu Lili wanted to bite off her own tongue.

Oh my god. What the hell did I just say? “My dear wife”? Did I really just blurt out what I call her on Weibo?

Even Zhao Xunyin was briefly stunned. She’d seen all kinds of situations in her career—but being called “wife” in front of her actual wife? That was new.

Before she could respond, Shi Nanbei turned around, saw who it was, and brightened instantly. “Lili?” she said, her face soft and pure as ever.

That one gentle call made Wu Lili’s entire face go crimson. She waved her hands frantically. “I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean that! I’ve liked you for years, and I’m really active in your fan group, so I just slipped up! I didn’t mean it like that,

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Shi Nanbei wasn’t actually angry—after all, even before she married Zhao Xunyin, she already knew just how much Wu Lili adored her. The woman had even once declared that she would become the best obstetrician in the country, just so that one day she could personally “serve” Zhao Xunyin.

Back then, Shi Nanbei didn’t understand why being an obstetrician was the way to “serve” Zhao Xunyin, until Wu Lili had explained, “She’ll have to get married and have children someday, right? If I’m the best obstetrician, I’ll definitely get to meet her then—and I’ll ask for her autograph!”

Shi Nanbei had broken out in goosebumps the moment she heard that. Her focus, as usual, was a little strange—If Zhao Xunyin’s lying on a hospital bed in labor with a huge belly, how on earth is she supposed to sign anything for her doctor?

It was something she had almost completely forgotten about—until the moment Wu Lili and Zhao Xunyin came face-to-face. The memory hit her out of nowhere, and for a second, her emotions twisted into something indescribably complicated.

If the two of them ever decide to have a child in the future, how on earth are we supposed to face Wu Lili?

Thankfully, Zhao Xunyin—who’d weathered far bigger storms—was the first to recover and break the strange tension hanging in the air. She smiled politely at Wu Lili and said, “It’s fine, but I’m afraid my wife might not think so.”

It was the first time Shi Nanbei had ever heard Zhao Xunyin call her wife in public. Her face instantly flushed crimson, and she didn’t even know what to say.

Wu Lili, to her credit, recovered quickly as well. She transformed into the perfect fan—shaking hands with Zhao Xunyin, chatting excitedly, and even successfully asking for an autograph.

By the time she sat down, Shi Nanbei had just about come back to her senses from that earlier embarrassment. She asked, “Did you come alone?”

Wu Lili’s eyes lit up immediately. “You mean—I can bring the others too?”

Shi Nanbei wanted to bite her own tongue off. Please pretend I didn’t say anything.

Luckily, Wu Lili still had some sense of professionalism—or maybe she just wanted to enjoy the moment with her idol all to herself—so she didn’t tell her roommates that Zhao Xunyin was on campus.

The four of them ended up having a pleasant meal together. Most of the time, it was Wu Lili steering the conversation, but Shi Nanbei had known her for three years and was well aware of how good she was at lightening the mood.

Overall, it was a cheerful dinner.

Only poor Zhao Xunyin was a little pitiful. She had flown all the way back just to see her wife, only to end up sharing dinner with an extra guest—and to make matters worse, she could only nibble on a bowl of plain boiled cabbage while watching the others devour spicy hot pot and Mao Xuewang. Wu Lili and Shi Nanbei even ordered a second round—sour and spicy noodles this time.

When she looked down at her own bland cabbage, she almost sighed aloud.

For the first time in her life, Zhao Xunyin truly resented the fact that being an actress meant she had to maintain her figure.

Eventually, she couldn’t help asking, “Don’t you think you’re eating a bit too much? And all this spicy food—aren’t you worried about breaking out?”

Wu Lili, still full of energy, replied between bites, “Not at all! We’ve got final exams coming up. If we don’t eat enough, we’ll never survive the all-nighters.”

Zhao Xunyin, who had never experienced the struggles of student life, could only fall silent. So, this is what being a top student feels like? Do they all travel in packs?

Thankfully, Shi Nanbei realized she’d been neglecting her and felt guilty. After dinner, she walked Wu Lili out and then went for a stroll with Zhao Xunyin around campus. When they reached a quiet, empty spot, the usually timid Shi

Nanbei tugged her into the shade of a tree—and stole a shy little kiss, making Zhao Xunyin laugh until she couldn’t stop smiling.

At that moment, Zhao Xunyin finally understood why wealthy old men liked dating young college girls. Their youth and energy were irresistible. Being with Shi Nanbei filled her life with warmth and sunlight—it was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in years.

Her young wife was clingy, too. Even when it was time to part, Shi Nanbei clung to her arm reluctantly. “When are you flying back to Shanghai?”

“The morning after tomorrow.” Zhao Xunyin’s hand slid naturally to her waist. The girl clung to her like a kitten, boneless and soft, always curling into her whenever they were alone.

“But I have an exam tomorrow morning.” Shi Nanbei sighed miserably. “Otherwise, I’d go back to Longquan with you.”

She really was upset—she missed Zhao Xunyin so much, but she simply couldn’t spare the time.

While Shi Nanbei fretted, the older Zhao Xunyin was already thinking pragmatically—Maybe I should just buy a place near her university. It’d make things much more convenient. Having money really did make love easier to manage, she thought wryly.

“It’s alright,” Zhao Xunyin comforted softly. “Your studies come first.”

“But I don’t want to be apart from you.” Shi Nanbei murmured, biting her lip. Her voice was soft and sweet, and as she spoke, she peeked shyly at Zhao Xunyin—who had already taken off her mask and sunglasses.

She was so beautiful. Even back when Shi Nanbei only saw her on TV, she’d thought Zhao Xunyin was gorgeous. But seeing her in person now was something else entirely. Her dark hair shone under the light, the ends slightly curled, and she carried a faint fragrance that made Shi Nanbei’s heart flutter.

Her gaze kept drifting to Zhao Xunyin’s lips—those stunning red lips she’d once seen in a lipstick commercial years ago. Back then, Zhao Xunyin had looked elegant and alluring, her lips bold and perfectly shaped, captivating in every frame.

Now, standing so close, Shi Nanbei felt her heart race. She’d already gathered the courage to kiss her once under the tree—but even though no one was around now, they were still on campus. If she lost control again and someone saw how embarrassing would that be?

But she really, really wanted to kiss this woman again.

Zhao Xunyin noticed her flushed cheeks and the fiery, hesitant look in her eyes, and of course she knew exactly what was going through her mind. Her own heart softened like melting water. She drew Shi Nanbei into her arms and leaned down, her voice low and teasing:

“Beibei, just how much do you not want to part from me?”

“So, so much, I—mmph.”

Before she could finish, Zhao Xunyin’s lips were already on hers.

In that instant, it felt as if the wildflowers in Shi Nanbei’s heart had all burst into bloom at once.