After My Flash Marriage with the Movie Queen - Chapter 48

Time always flies when the two of them are together.

After lunch, they took a nap, then spent the afternoon reading together. By the time they finished dinner, it was already time for Zhao Xunyin to leave.

At the door, Zhao Xunyin asked, “Aren’t you going to see me off?”

Shi Nanbei immediately refused. “I just passed my second driving test, I’m not sending you anywhere.”

“..I meant my assistant will drive. You don’t have to.” Zhao Xunyin was truly speechless at how literal her wife could be. “Do you really think every time I say something, I’m asking you to be my chauffeur?”

Shi Nanbei replied with a straight face, “You never know. They say thirty is like a wolf, forty is like a.”

“Shi Nanbei!” Zhao Xunyin finally snapped.

“Here!” Shi Nanbei instinctively straightened up as if being called to attention. The moment she realized what she’d just done, her face fell and she muttered in complaint, “Why are you calling my full name like that? My grandma used to do that. Now whenever someone says my full name, I just want to stand up and salute.”

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

Forget it. It seemed that the tearful, romantic farewell scene between lovers that she’d imagined would never happen with this one.

So, she sighed softly and said, “Alright, I’m leaving then. Go back and review your notes.”

Shi Nanbei didn’t even hesitate. “Okay, bye-bye!” she said cheerfully and started to close the door.

“Hey, when you’re at home.” Zhao Xunyin started, intending to remind her that if she needed anything, she could contact her assistant. But before she could finish, Shi Nanbei stepped forward, grabbed her by the collar, and kissed her.

It happened so fast that Zhao Xunyin barely had time to enjoy the moment before the younger woman pulled away again. Shi Nanbei raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously.

“Be good, darling. Come back soon.”

Zhao Xunyin stood at the doorway, suitcase in hand, staring at the closed door for a long moment before she couldn’t help but laugh.

What a wonderful lover indeed.

Zhao Xunyin didn’t stay long in Chengdu this time. She caught a late-night flight back to Shanghai on Saturday at ten, but due to air traffic control delays, the plane didn’t take off until more than an hour later. By the time she got home, it was already past three in the morning.

Naturally, she hadn’t made it to the dinner appointment with Shu Yu that night.

She didn’t think much of it. Some things, once missed, are simply missed—there was no need to bring them up again. But the other party clearly didn’t share her view.

Almost the moment she stepped into her apartment, her phone began to ring inside her bag. Zhao Xunyin assumed it was Shi Nanbei calling—wondering why that girl was still awake so late—only to see that the screen displayed Shu Yu.

Shu Yu.

The phone kept ringing. Zhao Xunyin had no intention of answering, but it was clear the other woman was determined to keep calling until she did. There was no avoiding it. After the third round of ringing, Zhao Xunyin finally gave in and answered.

After all those years together, she still understood Shu Yu’s stubbornness all too well.

“Hello?”

It was already past three in the morning. For her to be calling at this hour, she was either still awake—or had gotten up early.

Zhao Xunyin was inclined to believe it was the former.

“You didn’t show up tonight,” Shu Yu said directly once the call connected.

Setting her luggage down by the door, Zhao Xunyin decided not to unpack—her agent would be picking her up in just two hours for a reshoot anyway. She sank into the sofa and replied evenly, “I never said I would.”

At some point, their conversations had turned into these cold, barbed exchanges.

“Is it because you didn’t want to come,” Shu Yu asked quietly, “or because you didn’t dare to?”

Zhao Xunyin chuckled under her breath. “Does it matter?”

“To me, it does.”

“I didn’t want to,” Zhao Xunyin answered simply.

“Why?” Shu Yu’s voice was as cool and distant as ever—like the proud, composed woman who once lectured on business and ambition before countless students and admirers.

Zhao Xunyin had long since come to understand Shu Yu. That kind of personality would never change for anyone or anything—just like back then, when she decided to end their relationship.

Whether Zhao Xunyin begged her to stay or let her go with dignity, the ending would have been the same.

And Zhao Xunyin had chosen dignity.

“Because I don’t think there’s any need for us to see each other anymore,” she said. The red-eye flight had left her drowsy—perhaps age was catching up with her—because she found herself nodding off even as she spoke.

“Also,” Zhao Xunyin added softly, exhaling, “I hope you haven’t forgotten—I’m married now.”

Even after everything that had happened between them, she still didn’t want things to turn ugly.

After all, she had once loved her.

There was a long silence on the other end.

Finally, Shu Yu’s voice came, quiet and trembling.

“I thought, I still had time.”

I Thought I Still Had Time.

Just six simple characters, yet they dragged Zhao Xunyin back into a past she had long buried.

It was right after their breakup, when she heard that Shu Yu had married someone else. That news had shattered her—left her hollow and adrift. Many years ago, when they first met, she had been at her brightest age, believing that everything was still within reach. But after their separation, when she looked back on those memories, Zhao Xunyin finally understood: some things are never “in time.”

Back then, she had thought about chasing after Shu Yu—swallowing her pride, reaching out just once more. But in the end, she didn’t take that step.

Because she knew Shu Yu too well. Shu Yu was decisive—once she made up her mind, she would never turn back. Zhao understood that about her better than anyone. She knew that when Shu Yu chose to give her up, it was with absolute resolve. And precisely because of that, their ending could never change.

But now, years later, that same woman who had once walked away without hesitation was telling her “I thought I still had time.”

Still had time?

If there truly had been time, then what about all the tears she’d shed over the years? The pain she’d endured? The lonely nights spent wide awake, haunted by what-ifs—what did all of that mean?

She had never resented Shu Yu. After all, she had loved her deeply once. She neither wanted nor could bring herself to hate her. But now, married and having already entrusted her future to someone else, hearing those words from the very person who had once broken her so completely—Zhao Xunyin suddenly felt a pang of hatred.

She hated that woman—for not understanding her, for believing rumors instead of her, for never taking that final step toward her.

“What’s the point of saying all this now?” Zhao Xunyin asked softly over the phone.

There was silence on the other end. Shu Yu couldn’t answer. It was almost ironic—years ago, it had always been the opposite: one asked, one stayed silent. They were forever out of sync, their love never quite aligned.

“You know me,” Shu Yu finally said. “You should understand me.”

Zhao Xunyin froze, not quite grasping what she meant. But before she could ask, the line went dead.

She stared blankly at her phone for a long moment before finally forcing Shu Yu’s name out of her mind. When she looked at the clock again, it was already past five in the morning, the sky faintly brightening outside her window.

She opened WeChat and sent a message to Shi Nanbei:

“I’m home.”

The reply came instantly:

“Was your flight delayed?”

Zhao Xunyin blinked. Oh right—before boarding, she’d told Nanbei she would land around 2 a.m. It was now 5. A flicker of guilt crept up as she typed back:

“There was an air traffic delay. Got home and started unpacking.”

Nanbei replied like a little soldier:

“That’s good then.”

Her manager was already on the way to pick her up, and Zhao Xunyin didn’t feel like sleeping anymore. Hugging her phone, she started chatting idly with Shi Nanbei.

“Did you not sleep? You’re up this early?”

Nanbei answered immediately:

“I slept! I just got up to study. 😢 I really regret majoring in medicine. So much to memorize.”

“Such a hardworking little one,” Zhao Xunyin typed, smiling unconsciously. “Shouldn’t you get a reward from your big sister?”

“Eh? Why are you wearing Pinru’s clothes this early in the morning?”

“Obviously so you’ll have some motivation to wake up, my dear Xian.”

Zhao Xunyin didn’t even bother to save face at this point.

When Shi Nanbei asked what kind of reward she meant, Zhao Xunyin sent over a photo—a never-released swimsuit picture of herself in a barely-there three-piece bikini.

“Big sister’s spoiling you ❤️”

She honestly didn’t know what had gotten into her lately. The more time she spent around Shi Nanbei, the more she felt like she was degenerating—sending racy photos, teasing like some shameless pervert. She was still berating herself for acting impulsively toward her 21-year-old baby when Shi Nanbei sent a picture in return.

Zhao Xunyin opened it—and froze.

It was fanfiction.

As an Omega, Zhao Xunyin couldn’t be blamed for what happened next. Deprived of inhibitors, her gaze fell on the Alpha before her. The female Alpha had sloped shoulders, a narrow waist, and a teasing allure that rivaled Zhao Xunyin’s own. She caught the faint scent of pheromones in the air, and the Alpha’s cold expression softened ever so slightly.

The Alpha asked, “Woman, do you want it?”

Zhao Xunyin: “?”

What the hell was this?

Alpha? Omega? Pheromones? What on earth.

Old woman: “What the hell did you just send me?”

Shi Nanbei grinned at her phone and replied:

“Just read the last line.”

So, Zhao Xunyin scrolled down again.

The Alpha asked, ‘Woman, do you want it?’

Zhao Xun Yin: “……”

“Will you shut up, please?