After My Flash Marriage with the Movie Queen - Chapter 89

After chatting about her senior, the two of them calmly finished their lunch. Shi Nanbei treated food with utmost reverence, fully embracing the national “clean plate” campaign. Wu Lili couldn’t help but grimace every time.

“Can you maybe not eat like you haven’t had a meal in days every single time?”

Looking at Shi Nanbei’s plate, it was almost as if she had licked it clean.

“Carpe diem, right? Every meal should be enjoyed as if it’s your last,” Shi Nanbei said seriously, as if reciting scripture.

Wu Lili: “…”

“Hasn’t your wife ever told you off?” Wu Lili thought. Surely with Shi Nanbei’s voracious eating, the actress must have said something.

But apparently, she hadn’t.

“She actually said I’m cute,” Shi Nanbei replied. “She said that being able to eat is a blessing and encouraged me to eat more.”

Wu Lili: “…”

Seriously, what kind of PDA is this? I can’t even.

Glancing at Shi Nanbei’s innocent, wide-eyed face while comparing it to her own half-eaten plate, Wu Lili began to wonder: maybe the first step to marrying a top actress is licking your plate clean?

After they finished eating, the two headed back to the dorm to squeeze in a nap before their next class. Their afternoon lecture wasn’t until second period, so they had more than enough time. On the way, Wu Lili teased Shi Nanbei, saying she was practically a rising star now and bound for success — so she’d better not forget her roommates in the future.

With a grand wave of her hand, Shi Nanbei promised, “As long as I have a bite to eat, my roommates will always have some soup to drink.”

Wu Lili’s expression suddenly shifted, brimming with curiosity. “By the way, are you and your wife planning to have kids?”

That question really hit Shi Nanbei. “Kids?”

She pictured helpless little humans in their first one to three years of life, unable to manage their own hygiene, and her expression twisted. “Why would I give myself unnecessary trouble?”

“Why would you think having kids is trouble?” Wu Lili sometimes really couldn’t understand Shi Nanbei. Every time she expected her to act predictably, she went the opposite way. And every time she expected her to go against the grain, she responded in the most mundane way.

Someone with Shi Nanbei’s personality should love kids, right? But apparently, maybe not?

“Isn’t that obvious? We just got married. Once you have kids, it’s all about family routines. I haven’t even had enough time alone with my wife, and now I’m supposed to suddenly start a three-person household? Nope. This thought stops here!”

Wu Lili: “…”

Her words were reasonable, but with Shi Nanbei and her wife’s amazing genes, not having kids would feel like a waste.

Still, she didn’t say it. After all, Shi Nanbei was only 21; it probably was too early to be thinking about kids.

She’d asked casually. As a fan of Zhao Xunyin, it was natural to be concerned about her idol’s life. But it seemed her question had triggered a realization in Shi Nanbei. She had always thought that marriage to a woman freed her from all traditional family concerns—no in-laws, no debates over boys or girls, but now that didn’t seem entirely true. Zhao Xunyin was 34—almost forty—and if they wanted kids, the timing was slipping.

Shi Nanbei, a bit self-conscious, thought about it. Given Zhao Xunyin’s personality, once a child arrived, all her attention would shift to the baby. Humph—she’s supposed to be the most adorable one in the world! Why would she willingly create a rival for her affection?

Was it because she felt insecure?

Yes, that was exactly it. But Shi Nanbei wasn’t one to keep things bottled up. Later that evening, during a long phone call with Zhao Xunyin, she thought about bringing up the topic of kids. But from the moment she answered, she was ranting about her manager, urging her to “hold onto” Shi Nanbei to secure her own career.

A top actress, a dual award-winning star, and yet, because of a marriage and a reality show, she had to rely on clinging to her wife’s support? That was too much stimulation for Zhao Xunyin’s brain.

“I have absolutely no dignity left as an actress,” Zhao Xunyin said, pouting over the phone.

Shi Nanbei couldn’t help it and laughed openly.

“Ha ha ha ha!”

Zhao Xunying: “…”

She shouldn’t have said those things on the phone!

Seeing her wife slightly upset, the normally blunt Shi Nanbei softened her tone to soothe her. Zhao Xunyin, hearing her gentle voice, found herself thinking—albeit a little foolishly—that maybe having no dignity as an actress wasn’t the end of the world.

Stop, stop. Don’t think about it anymore. Zhao Xunyin despaired. They had only been married a short while, and Shi Nanbei already had her completely wrapped around her finger?

This was the end.

“Alright then, but why did your manager tell you to cling to me?” Shi Nanbei asked after calming her wife.

“To boost my career,” Zhao Xunyin replied, voice tinged with quiet grievance.

The tone was mournfully pitiful.

It wasn’t that Zhao Xunyin lacked generosity—she just found it oddly jarring to see her manager’s face light up with such unbridled excitement.

“Do you know what your wife’s real-time streaming numbers are right now?” her manager’s eyes sparkled, her expression as if she’d just won five million. “It’s three points higher than when you announced your marriage! My god, she’s a phenomenon-level star. The only person I’ve seen hit peak debut numbers like this is that video creator, PP Jiang.”

Even Zhao Xunyin couldn’t help but feel proud. There was a certain thrill in seeing her wife shine so brightly.

“Right now, public affection for her far exceeds what you’d expect. To catch the next episode of the variety show, 2.27 million people have signed up for memberships. That’s what a money tree!”

Zhao Xunyin: “….”

Wasn’t she the money tree herself?

“Can you at least have some perspective?” Zhao Xunyin couldn’t help but retort. “You’ve managed a Best Actress before—don’t act like you’ve never seen the world.”

“Please,” her manager scoffed. “Do you know how many days in the first five years I got cursed out while managing you? How many scandals I had to mop up? Later, when you finally regained popularity, you went the highbrow route—low exposure, artsy projects. And now you’re retiring again! What world could I possibly show you?”

Zhao Xunyin: “?”

Why so mournful?

She frowned, slightly offended. “So what? Are you saying you want to manage Nanbei?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she caught her manager’s expression—pure longing, like seeing a hundred million in cash.

Zhao Xunyin: “….”

She had hit the nail on the head.

Face in hand, Zhao Xunyin sighed. “Forget it. Shi Nanbei isn’t easy to manage. You don’t understand her.”

Her manager spoke with unwavering certainty: “Whether I understand her or not doesn’t matter. As long as the audience likes her, that’s enough. Do you know? Three brands have already approached the company to work with your wife.

With that innocent first-love face and an unusual personality, she’s destined to explode in the industry.”

Zhao Xunyin: “….”

Unusual personality? No—it was just that she was a little clueless, that’s all.

Seeing Zhao Xunyin remain unconvinced, the manager pressed on, gently persuading: “I know you think she’s too young, still in school. But she’s twenty-one—that’s the prime age for a girl. Full of collagen, so fresh and tender.

Yes, you’ve already had your fill in this industry, succeeded, and retired, but she’s just seeing this world for the first time—the bright, colorful world. You can’t refuse on her behalf.

And though she’s studying medicine, being a doctor is exhausting, right? The money she earns in a year may not even match a single endorsement. You’ve been in this line of work long enough to understand how it works.

With your name attached, plus the variety show built by Boss Qi, and her non-contrived personality, she’s perfectly positioned. If she doesn’t debut now, when will she?”

Zhao Xunyin was silent: “….”

Exactly. Having been in the entertainment circle long enough, she knew her manager wasn’t exaggerating.

Over the years, she had seen countless talented, hardworking people like An He—good looks, acting skills, dedication—yet they could never break through.

There’s a saying in the industry: small fame comes from promotion, big fame comes from fate.

Popularity is truly a mystical thing.

And Shi Nanbei was born to be hugely famous.

Not every An He finds a Boss Qi willing to invest time and energy to cultivate them.

Most end up mediocre, burning through their youth in the industry, and when their brief fame wanes, they marry someone decent enough.

Zhao Xunyin was thirty-four. Love, for someone her age, was a luxury—if she had it, fine; if not, she wouldn’t force it. Naturally, she no longer approached love with the reckless abandon of youth.

She had achieved fame young, endured public scorn, and suffered betrayal by someone she loved. She understood exactly what “liking someone” really meant.

She had seen countless temptations and knew herself well. She couldn’t guarantee how long her feelings would last in this marriage. Maybe today she truly loved Shi Nanbei—but ten years from now? Who could say?

Pragmatic and self-serving, she decided that as long as she still loved Shi Nanbei, she could give her whatever she wanted—money, fame, anything—unconditionally.

With Zhao Xunyin’s reputation as a Best Actress and wife, Shi Nanbei didn’t need to aim for super-A-list status to navigate the industry smoothly.

As long as she established a foothold and gained popularity, even a divorce wouldn’t matter.

If Zhao Xunyin had been ten years younger, she would have seized this opportunity herself—she admitted to herself, a little shamelessly.