After My Flash Marriage with the Movie Queen - Chapter 35

Things like this never happened by coincidence—especially not right after her wife ignored her the night before. So, when Shu Yu’s call suddenly came through now, even the worldly and unflappable Zhao Xunyin, who’d weathered a thousand storms and seen every kind of chaos the world had to offer, found herself dying of embarrassment.

There were no words to defend herself, no way to explain her innocence.

The car was silent. Only the phone on the console kept ringing insistently.

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

How was she supposed to kneel and beg for mercy in this situation? Forget her title as Film Queen—no amount of fame could save her now. She’d really never expected things to develop like this.

In fact, this had to rank among the top three most mortifying moments of her entire life.

No, scratch that. Zhao Xunyin glanced at Shi Nanbei’s face beside her, thought for a moment, and decided this one deserved to climb straight to number one. Never in her life had she felt this helpless—this was practically the equivalent of getting caught in the act.

The silence stretched until Shi Nanbei finally spoke, her tone calm and unreadable.

“You’re not going to answer it?”

Even a fool would know that answering the phone now was out of the question. Zhao Xunyin straightened, adopting the gravest expression she could manage.

“I’m not answering.”

But the moment she said that, Shi Nanbei shot her a strange look. Her gaze lingered on the still-ringing phone, and she frowned slightly. Zhao Xunyin’s eyelid twitched involuntarily—she had a bad feeling about this. What if Shi Nanbei asked why, after all these years since her breakup with Shu Yu, her number was still saved in her phone?

She did want to explain, honestly. After all, they were both in the entertainment industry, and Shu Yu, as a CEO, was someone everyone knew. The two of them hadn’t contacted or seen each other since the breakup, but Zhao Xunyin had never gotten around to deleting the number. And with all the new “cloud storage” features these days, numbers followed you across devices for years.

So really—it wasn’t her fault!

A few years back, she’d been so busy she could barely tell one contact from another. Her phonebook easily had over eight hundred people in it. Forgetting to delete one old number was perfectly normal, wasn’t it?

Normal or not, she’d never imagined Shu Yu would choose this moment to call—while Shi Nanbei was sitting right beside her.

Even with all her poise, Zhao Xunyin had no idea how to begin explaining this.

No matter how she phrased it, it would sound suspicious.

As she was agonizing over it, Shi Nanbei spoke again, her tone mild and emotionless:

“Your phone’s been ringing for a while. Maybe it’s something urgent?”

“…” Zhao Xunyin genuinely couldn’t tell what that tone meant. Shi Nanbei’s expression was perfectly calm—so calm it was unreadable.

In the past, Zhao Xunyin might’ve been able to guess whether her girlfriend was angry or not. But after being thoroughly terrorized last night by An He and the comments from netizens online, she now had a gut feeling that this calmness was the prelude to an explosion.

After all, the ex-girlfriend was literally calling her in front of her wife. Who wouldn’t be mad?

This was Zhao Xunyin’s first marriage—she had zero experience with such things. Sure, she used to be a firm believer in never marrying, but after all these years alone, a part of her had started longing for a home. Just like she’d confessed in her post last night—she really did love Shi Nanbei. She genuinely wanted a life with her.

The past was the past. As for Shu Yu, let bygones be bygones.

“I don’t think it’s anything urgent,” Zhao Xunyin said after a pause. After some thought, she added reassuringly, “I, I’m not even that close to her.”

Heaven and earth could testify—she truly hadn’t seen Shu Yu once since their breakup.

But her dear wife clearly had no mercy, adding salt to the wound with a faint, deliberate jab:

“Wasn’t she your ex-girlfriend?”

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

Was it illegal to not be close to your ex?

After another round of ringing, the phone finally went silent. Shi Nanbei said nothing more, merely closed her eyes, clearly shifting her attention to mentally reviewing her afternoon exam topics.

But in Zhao Xunyin’s eyes, that quiet calmness only made it worse—she looked like someone silently seething.

Zhao Xunyin told herself that yes, she was a Film Queen, and yes, she had her pride—but admitting fault to her wife wasn’t the end of the world, was it?

After a long internal pep talk, she gathered her courage and said softly,

“Wife, I was wrong.”

Shi Nanbei, still mentally reciting professional terms, nodded absently. But that single interruption made her lose her train of thought. She frowned, trying to recall what she’d just been memorizing—only for Zhao Xunyin to add dramatically,

“I really haven’t contacted Shu Yu! That was years ago! I have no idea who she divorced for. Wife, you have to believe me—I like you.”

Shi Nanbei: “…”

Wait, where had she left off in her notes again?

Ugh. Gone.

Seeing that Shi Nanbei still didn’t respond, Zhao Xunyin grew more anxious.

“Why don’t you just punish me?” she offered desperately. “Any punishment is fine.”

For some reason, that line triggered a memory for Shi Nanbei—from a fanfiction she’d once read back in high school about this very same Zhao Xunyin.

In that story, the little star Zhao Xunyin angered a domineering CEO. To apologize, she said the exact same thing: ‘You can punish me however you want.’

And the CEO made her wear lingerie for a week—without taking it off, even during events.

Huh.

Shi Nanbei blinked, startled by her own thoughts. Why am I being so perverted all of a sudden?

But then again, imagining Zhao Xunyin in lingerie was pretty tempting. She hadn’t forgotten what happened in the car last week—the teasing, the daring poses Zhao Xunyin had made her take.

Hmph. She’d said she’d get her revenge one day.

And maybe today was that day.

So, Shi Nanbei turned to Zhao Xunyin and asked, “So, any punishment is fine?”

Although she felt that this was one of those questions that required a very careful answer, Zhao Xunyin, seeing the eager look in her wife’s eyes—and knowing she was the one in the wrong—had no choice but to brace herself and reply, “Any punishment is fine.”

Shi Nanbei leaned closer and whispered a few words by Zhao Xunyin’s ear.

Even though Zhao Xunyin had long been through countless storms, seen through the ways of the world, and tasted every flavor of life, those few murmured words still made her cheeks flush crimson.

For a moment, she had the illusion that she’d underestimated the seemingly pure and sweet girl before her.

After all, she was already in her thirties, and to be fair, she couldn’t imagine herself ever saying something like what Shi Nanbei had just whispered. She’d been shameless enough in her youth, sure, but compared to how bold the younger generation was now, Zhao Xunyin suddenly felt that she’d once been positively innocent.

Zhao Xunyin: “……”

When Shi Nanbei saw that Zhao Xunyin hadn’t said a word for a long time, she couldn’t help asking, “You’re not trying to go back on your word, are you?”

Zhao Xunyin was silent for a moment. She reminded herself that she was more than ten years older than Shi Nanbei. As the older one in the relationship, she had to lead by example—practice restraint, keep her promises. If she didn’t, and Shi Nanbei later followed suit, she’d only have herself to blame when the headaches started.

How would she survive the years ahead then?

So, she swallowed her pride—along with what was left of her “Best Actress” dignity—and said through gritted teeth, “Fine. Whatever you say.” Then, after a pause, she asked, “You’re not angry anymore, right?”

Shi Nanbei blinked, surprised. “Angry? Angry about what?”

Zhao Xunyin thought she was still dragging it out and quickly said, “I already agreed to what you just said, so can we call it even now?”

Shi Nanbei looked at Zhao Xunyin in confusion. The latter’s gaze carried a hint of helplessness. Then Shi Nanbei’s eyes drifted toward the phone on the counter. After a brief silence, she looked back at Zhao Xunyin and asked,

“You didn’t think I was mad because Shu Yu called you, did you?”

Zhao Xunyin: “……”

After a long pause, she asked, “Wasn’t that it?”

Shi Nanbei shook her head earnestly. “No, really. I wasn’t angry. When I asked you earlier, I genuinely thought she must’ve had something important to tell you.”

Zhao Xunyin: “……”

So, you’re just kind-hearted now?

After another long silence, Zhao Xunyin asked hesitantly, “Then what about the news on Weibo yesterday, about Shu Yu’s divorce?”

Shi Nanbei tilted her head. “Didn’t you two break up ages ago? So, what if she’s getting divorced?”

Zhao Xunyin: “……”

There was no way she could admit to her wife that she—a dignified Best Actress—had spent the entire night tossing and turning because of her ex’s divorce. And all because that chatterbox An He wouldn’t stop talking, making her think Shu Yu’s divorce somehow had something to do with her, and worrying that her newlywed wife might overthink things.

What made it worse was that she’d even submitted a post to a gossip account about it! The mere thought of the comments under that post made Zhao Xunyin want to log into her main account and reply to every single one of them.

What was wrong with these people? Couldn’t they just wish her well? Her wife was clearly generous and understanding, yet everyone insisted she was petty and jealous—no wonder Zhao Xunyin hadn’t slept all night. She’d even driven to the university early in the morning to wait for her wife’s class to end, ready to accept whatever “criticism” awaited her.

And now, to find out that her wife hadn’t even cared about any of it, let alone been angry—so after all that, it turned out she’d been acting out an entire drama by herself?

A little embarrassing, to say the least.

After a long silence, Zhao Xunyin finally realized that as far as Shi Nanbei was concerned, her “Best Actress dignity” didn’t amount to much. Looking at her wife’s delicate, innocent face, she asked weakly, “Since you weren’t angry, then what you said just now.”

Shi Nanbei, who could be a bit silly at times but had a natural instinct when it came to marital “playfulness,” immediately cut her off before she could finish.

“What’s said is said! A gentleman’s word is his bond—once spoken, even four horses can’t chase it back. You’re a big-time Best Actress, and you’re already going back on your word? Are you planning to eat your words and grow fat from it?”

Zhao Xunyin: “……”

Right now, she didn’t want to be a “gentleman.”

Couldn’t she just be a shameless little villain for once?