After My Flash Marriage with the Movie Queen - Chapter 40

“Why do you dislike that I’m older?” Zhao Xunyin couldn’t figure it out no matter how she turned it over in her head. At last, she could only force herself to ask the girl nestled in her arms in an icy tone.

If this had been two years ago, she would have died before asking something like that. Proud as she was, back when Zhao Xunyin was dating, if she felt things weren’t working out, she’d simply walk away without hesitation. She’d never lower herself to cautiously asking why.

Ever since getting married, she’d realized she wasn’t quite herself anymore.

Sigh, no wonder people say women shouldn’t rush into marriage.

“I’ll say it, but you can’t get mad,” Shi Nanbei murmured, her fingers twisting together nervously.

“I’ll try not to,” Zhao Xunyin replied.

Shi Nanbei: “…”

What do you mean try?

Although she wasn’t too happy with that answer, Shi Nanbei knew full well she was the one in the wrong here, so she didn’t dare press further.

“Because, I read in a book that people get older, and sometimes they’re not as good at certain things anymore,” she said carefully.

Zhao Xunyin’s face nearly twisted out of shape. “Which things, exactly?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Like, um, just now. When we were driving.” Shi Nanbei answered obediently.

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

Years of professional expression control as a film queen—all gone in an instant under Shi Nanbei’s assault.

Her beautiful face went green, then black, then green again before she finally bit out, “And which book says that?”

Shi Nanbei stammered, “Our medical textbook.”

Fearing Zhao Xunyin might explode, she hurried to clarify, “But it’s not true for everyone! Some people still, um, perform very well even when they’re older.”

Zhao Xunyin sat up wordlessly.

Shi Nanbei immediately shrank back, whispering in her own defense, “It’s not my fault! It’s just—you always make me drive. And aren’t you a T? So, I thought, if you don’t want to drive, maybe it’s because you can’t.”

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

Screw your damn T! You’re the T! You’ve been a T for two lifetimes—past and present!

Finally, the topic she’d been wanting to bring up all day came out. When Shi Nanbei had given her that keychain this morning, Zhao Xunyin had already wanted to set things straight. She honestly couldn’t understand—what about her looked like a T? If someone called her a “steel P,” maybe she could tolerate it. But a “steel T”? Absolutely not.

“When,” she demanded, “did I ever say I was a T?”

Shi Nanbei froze, blinking in confusion before answering blankly, “But, your fans online all call you ‘husband,’ don’t they?”

She sounded completely convinced. “If that’s not T, then what is?”

Zhao Xunyin nearly choked on her own breath.

She hadn’t realized Shi Nanbei’s understanding of lesbian terms was so primitive. Yet the girl continued self-righteously, “What’s the big deal! I used to think I was straight, anyway.”

Zhao Xunyin: “Straight? You?”

“Didn’t your grandma tell me you couldn’t even walk straight whenever you saw a pretty girl in middle school? That’s straight?”

Shi Nanbei was utterly speechless. Seriously—was her grandma even her grandma anymore? Why did she tell Zhao Xunyin everything, down to her embarrassing middle school stories?

“So what?” Shi Nanbei huffed. “Women’s sexuality is fluid. That’s what the book says.”

“Oh? Fluid how?”

“It flows toward whoever’s good-looking,” she said earnestly.

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

Good thing this was her wife—anyone else and Zhao Xunyin would’ve rolled her eyes right into another dimension. She held it in, massaging her temples before saying with exhausted patience, “Alright, fine. Let’s go back to this T business. You think I’m a T just because my fans call me ‘husband’? You do realize that fans call any pretty actress ‘husband,’ right?”

Shi Nanbei blinked, looking as innocent as a startled bunny. “I didn’t know.”

Then she added, “I’ve never followed any other actresses besides you anyway, so how would I know what their fans call them?”

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

Fair point, annoyingly enough.

“Alright, let’s drop it,” Zhao Xunyin sighed at last. She turned to look at the innocent face on the bed, veins pulsing at her temple, and said through clenched teeth.

“Tell me, do you really think I’m not good at it?”

Shi Nanbei bit her finger and murmured weakly, “Except for that first night when you were the driver, I’ve been the one driving ever since. So, I guess I might’ve lost track of things a little.”

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

She knew it—she never should’ve listened to An He’s ridiculous advice about this kind of thing.

Back then, when Zhao had asked An He over the phone how to get along with a wife thirteen years younger than herself, An He had replied with righteous conviction:

“Of course, she’s the top and you’re the bottom! Come on, you’re the older one, right? Think about all those CEO and femme-fatale stories on Jinjiang—aren’t all the mature types the ones on the receiving end? Your young wife’s already feeling pressured for marrying someone older. If you still have to be on top of her in that way, how do you expect the poor kid to survive?”

An He had sounded so earnest, so persuasive, that even the worldly and experienced Zhao Xunyin had found her reasoning somewhat convincing at the time.

But now,

Bullshit! She should’ve known that airheaded woman never had good intentions!

Zhao Xunyin loomed over her, expression dark and fierce. “Then I’ll prove to you right now whether there’s anything wrong with me in that department.”

Shi Nanbei blinked. “But didn’t we say we were going to eat—mmph.”

The rest of her protest was cut off, because once the great Film Queen Zhao had been accused of having “problems,” she swore to reclaim her dignity—right there and then.

Naturally, what followed was that poor Shi Nanbei, after a long shift as the driver, ended up being the passenger—twice. By the time Zhao Xunyin finally let her go, she had been utterly drained of every last bit of strength.

Even Zhao Xunyin herself was feeling it. She wasn’t as young as she used to be, and after that marathon of passion, even an iron body would be worn out—especially one with low blood sugar.

Shi Nanbei was already fast asleep, completely spent. Zhao Xunyin picked up her phone and ordered some food delivery. The courier said it would arrive at the villa in about half an hour.

Since it was only thirty minutes, Zhao didn’t bother lying down again. She tidied up the bedroom a bit, took a shower, and came out to find Shi Nanbei still sleeping soundly. Not wanting to wake her, Zhao grabbed her phone and quietly left the bedroom, planning to head downstairs to see if the food had arrived.

But just as she reached the staircase, her phone rang. Assuming it was the delivery person, she answered without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

Silence.

Zhao frowned slightly. “Hello?”

Still nothing. Just as she was about to lower the phone to check the screen, a familiar yet distant voice came through.

“It’s me, Shu Yu.”

For a moment, Zhao Xunyin’s mind went completely blank. Her first instinct was to hang up, but reason—tempered by years of emotional restraint—stopped her.

She knew Shu Yu too well. The woman would never reach out unless she had to.

“Oh, it’s you,” Zhao said, regaining her composure and adopting a calm, almost detached tone, as if speaking to an old acquaintance. “What’s the matter?”

There was another long pause before Shu Yu finally said, “I got divorced.”

“Is that so? Well, congratulations—no, wait,” Zhao corrected herself, staring down at the steps beneath her feet, unsure what tone to use. It wasn’t exactly the kind of news one expected from an ex.

“My condolences, then,” she finished awkwardly.

The woman on the other end spoke with the same cold precision as always, each word clipped and deliberate. “Condolences?”

“Do you really mean that, Zhao Xunyin?”

Hearing her own name from that voice after so many years left Zhao momentarily dazed.

Back when they were together, she’d never told Shu Yu that she actually loved hearing her say her full name. Shu Yu’s Mandarin had always been immaculate—her voice clear and crystalline, like pearls dropping onto jade. Zhao used to tease her, saying that if she ever went bankrupt, she could make a living as a voice actor.

Shu Yu had frowned at that, dead serious. “What, are you saying you wouldn’t take care of me?”

Zhao had been secretly delighted. From the beginning, the gap between them had been painfully obvious—one, a powerful CEO; the other, a scandal-ridden B-list actress. Ever since they got together, Zhao had worked tirelessly, wanting to be someone worthy of Shu Yu. She used to believe that as long as she tried hard enough, she could close the distance between them. But she’d been too young to understand that some barriers—like class and status—couldn’t be crossed by effort alone.

“I never said I wouldn’t take care of you,” she’d laughed. “I just meant you could do voice work on the side, you know, to help with expenses.”

“If you don’t mind the embarrassment, then sure, I’ll do it,” Shu Yu had replied coolly, a trace of displeasure in her voice. For someone like her, the idea of becoming a voice actor was beneath her. But Zhao had seriously encouraged it, which only made Shu Yu quietly wonder whether Zhao thought she was useless outside of making money.

Zhao Xunyin had no clue what was going through Shu Yu’s mind. She just watched her sulking—a rare occurrence—and couldn’t help finding it a little amusing. Shu Yu was usually reserved, never responding to teasing, and if pressed too much, she’d only huff, “You’re so annoying!” That single phrase had Zhao Xunyin grinning for days afterward, her mood so good that even at press conferences, her glowing complexion and sparkling eyes prompted entertainment reporters to ask if something wonderful had happened.

“Maybe,” she’d said with a smile. “I’ll be sure to let everyone know when the time comes.”

But time passed, and that “good news” never came. She never got to tell the press about her and Shu Yu’s happy ending.

In the end, the only thing left between them was that one word she’d forced herself to say, years later, when she heard Shu Yu was getting married.

“Congratulations.”