After My Flash Marriage with the Movie Queen - Chapter 90

Zhao Xunyin had always known she was a selfish person. But selfish as she was, she admitted it openly whenever asked. She was fully aware of her selfishness and carried it with complete transparency and calm. She knew she wasn’t like Shi Nanbei. Shi Nanbei was a simple person: as long as life was bearable, as long as she was happy, nothing else really mattered.

Zhao Xunyin was different. Perhaps it had something to do with her family. Back when she was in school, her grades were decent, but by no means outstanding. Her family’s expectations were straightforward: get a bachelor’s degree, major in finance, and eventually take over the family business.

Unfortunately, she had no natural interest in business—or perhaps she was simply rebellious. She disliked everything her parents had planned for her life. All she ever wanted was to be a celebrity, to act in films.

Eventually, her father lost patience. He scolded her for always pursuing frivolous things, for not focusing on her studies, for insisting on becoming some kind of performer. For this, Zhao Xunyin went nearly ten years without contacting her family, a testament to her stubborn temper at the time.

When she first entered the entertainment industry, her family didn’t support her, but they turned a blind eye. The Zhao family wasn’t extremely wealthy, but they didn’t require her to become a superstar to support them either. So back then, her options were wider; if she didn’t like something, she could simply refuse. She had faced disgusting producers or difficult colleagues with an icy glare more than once. At that time, she was pure and simple—if she didn’t like someone or something, she could just avoid it, no need to compromise herself.

But once she had a falling-out with her family and lost her financial support, Zhao Xunyin immediately felt the pressure of life. She realized that her previous simplicity had only existed because someone else was holding her up. Without her family’s backing, she found herself laughing and flattering producers just to earn money, lowering herself in front of directors just to land roles.

No one achieves success without hardship.

Having gone through those experiences and tasted life’s bitter struggles, Zhao Xunyin craved success even more. She understood that some things couldn’t be accomplished by luck alone. Though shameful, shortcuts were undeniably the most effective path sometimes.

And yes, Zhao Xunyin had taken shortcuts herself.

Years had passed. She was now thirty-four. Looking back at her youth, she couldn’t even be sure whether her relationship with Shu Yu had been entirely pure.

Everyone knew the reality: one was the privileged child of a media empire, the other a rising but controversial starlet. The difference in their social standing was enormous, and yet she had pursued Shu Yu. Even Zhao Xunyin herself could hardly convince herself that she hadn’t been influenced by the other’s wealth and status at the time.

In retrospect, Shu Yu probably knew too. From the beginning, she must have sensed that Zhao Xunyin’s intentions weren’t entirely pure. Shu Yu truly liked her, and there had been genuine feelings at first sight—but those feelings intensified once Shu Yu’s status became clear.

If Zhao Xunyin excused herself, she might mutter that “adult love is never entirely pure.” But deep down, how much she despised herself, no one could know.

Young Zhao Xunyin had always been self-important. She did like Shu Yu, no doubt—but Shu Yu’s status had certainly added to that attraction.

Perhaps Shu Yu knew this. Not long after they were together, Shu Yu took the lead, buying her out of her previous agency and placing her in Ms. Qi’s newly founded entertainment company.

Perhaps Zhao Xunyin didn’t know this. Regardless, during their time together, Shu Yu never treated her differently.

Zhao Xunyin was always grateful to Shu Yu, thankful that someone had tolerated her selfish, self-important younger self.

Maybe people are like this: only after experiencing heartbreak can they recognize their mistakes, correct them, and become better.

After leaving Shu Yu, Zhao Xunyin lived more consciously than ever—but that clarity had its downsides. For example, she no longer allowed herself to fall in love until Shi Nanbei appeared.

She truly was her salvation.

Thinking this, Zhao Xunyin made a decision in her heart. She casually asked Shi Nanbei over the phone, “By the way, your appearance on that variety show got really positive feedback online. Three advertisers want to talk about endorsements—are you interested?”

“No.” Shi Nanbei refused without a second thought.

The refusal was direct and decisive, perfectly in line with her character.

Zhao Xunyin had somewhat anticipated the rejection but, standing in the perspective of an older, more experienced person, she offered a gentle reminder: “Hmm? The total endorsement fees should amount to several million. You don’t want it?”

It had to be said: being a celebrity in the entertainment industry could earn one money many times faster than ordinary jobs.

But her wife had always treated money like dirt—something evident even when she hadn’t once asked about Zhao Xunyin’s financial situation before marrying her (of course, that incident with An He was another matter).

Shi Nanbei, slightly puzzled, replied, “So what if it’s a few million?”

Zhao Xunyin paused. “Hmm.”

That was a very good question.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say next.

“I’m still a college student. My main task is studying, got it?” Shi Nanbei spoke with a sense of hope, her voice over the phone imbued with a sacred intensity. “I joined that variety show just to see Yang Qiyue. I’ve already met her and even got her autograph. My goal is accomplished!”

Zhao Xunyin: “…”

She already knew why Shi Nanbei was taking part in the variety show—it was all for Yang Qiyue!

What’s so special about some other woman that made her wife ignore the beautiful, devoted wife at home to focus elsewhere?

Hmph—she felt a twinge of jealousy.

“Don’t you want to debut? This is a really good opportunity,” Zhao Xunyin asked.

“Why would I want to debut?” Shi Nanbei replied, even more puzzled than before.

This time, Zhao Xunyin really didn’t know how to answer. She thought for a long while before saying, “If you debut, you’ll gain fame, fans, and lots of money.”

“Being your wife isn’t enough fame for me?” Shi Nanbei asked, genuinely curious. “And isn’t your money already mine? An He told me we didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement, so even if we got divorced, I could still get a hefty alimony.”

Zhao Xunyin: “……”

Where on earth had she found this best friend?

Why did it seem like all Shi Nanbei ever did was calculate how much she could get if they divorced???

“Fine,” Zhao Xunyin sighed, feeling herself outmaneuvered. She hesitated for a long moment before asking, “Aren’t you worried? You’re so young, and I’m already thirty-four. By the time you graduate, I’ll almost be forty. Women, we age quickly. Maybe one day you’ll meet someone better, maybe you won’t spend your whole life with me.”

Her words were meant to be touching—but her wife, with a mind as straightforward as any man’s, replied unflinchingly, “Who said getting married means you have to spend your whole life with someone?”

Zhao Xunyin: “…?”

That sounded a little strange.

Though young, Shi Nanbei had her own mature perspective on love and marriage:

“I married you,” she said firmly, “but not because you’re an award-winning actress—I married you because I like you. I like you, Zhao Xunyin.

If, after marrying you, I was to fall for someone else, I’d just divorce you. Marriage is not a cage. If you really want to like someone else, no piece of paper can hold you back.”

For such a young person, her views on love and marriage were surprisingly mature.

Hearing this, Zhao Xunyin finally couldn’t help but laugh. “But if you get divorced, you won’t be the wife of an award-winning actress anymore. Then what will you do?”

Shi Nanbei replied casually, “I’ll still be Shi Nanbei. I’ll still be Doctor Shi someday.”

Zhao Xunyin froze. She hadn’t expected her wife to say something like that.

—I’ll still be Shi Nanbei. I’ll still be Doctor Shi.

I married you because I liked you when I was young—it has nothing to do with whether you’re an actress.

That’s what Shi Nanbei was telling her.

And because of that, Zhao Xunyin completely gave up the idea of pushing her wife to debut.

Just like Shi Nanbei had said, whether or not she married Zhao Xunyin, she would remain herself. She would continue her studies, complete her education, and in a few years, become an excellent surgeon.

Maybe she wouldn’t have many fans. Maybe she wouldn’t have a lot of money. Maybe she wouldn’t be famous. Maybe her work would always be busy and exhausting. Maybe her future life would be ordinary and uneventful. But she would still be doing what she loved most—just like the year she had thrown herself recklessly into the entertainment industry to chase her dreams.

Back then, Zhao Xunyin’s father had asked why she insisted on entering showbiz—was it for fame or money? The Zhao family could provide both; she didn’t need to struggle from the bottom.

And how had she answered?

“I love the camera, I love the audience, I love stepping into one life after another. That’s what I cherish most in life, what I pursue.”

Fifteen years later, Zhao Xunyin thought she had forgotten the words she once said. But over the phone, she heard her young wife tell her:

“I love learning. I love medicine. I love using my small abilities to save one life after another. That’s what I cherish most in life, what I pursue.”

How familiar those words sounded.

Through the phone, Zhao Xunyin seemed to see the determination on Shi Nanbei’s face. At the same time, she glimpsed her own stubborn self from fifteen years ago.

Just like Shi Nanbei, she was chasing the work she loved most. Whether or not it brought fame and fortune, they both held on to the passions of their youth.