Shadowed Love: A Lover Who Refuses to Let Go - Chapter 45

“There Will Be Someone Else by My Side Sooner or Later; Continuing the Past Is Only Wasting Each Other’s Time.”

Jiang Menghe stood on the steps, her long lashes casting a shadow beneath her eyes. The moonlight climbed up to her feet, coating her entire being in a cold, detached aura.

After listening to Xin Youwei, she remained silent for a long time.

The air in her chest seemed to be squeezed out, replaced by a strong sense of suffocation. Her fingers twitched instinctively, reaching for the cigarette pack she had left at the hotel.

She knew Yin Yunzhu was a conservative and traditional person; otherwise, Yin wouldn’t have been so conflicted and pained when they first reached their “arrangement.” A bar—especially Muse, which was a mix of all sorts of people and included a dance hall—was not a place Yin Yunzhu would ever set foot in unless someone had coaxed her.

A woman. When she had first become close to Yin Yunzhu, she too was just a “strange woman” to her.

“What kind of woman?” Jiang Menghe asked flatly.

Xin Youwei scrutinized her again. “Why do you care about this gossip? Unless—did you two know each other before?” She gestured with her thumb in the direction Yin Yunzhu had fled.

Jiang Menghe remained silent, exhaling a heavy breath. Her gentle features turned deep and somber, as dark as a surging tide.

The silence was enough of an answer. Xin Youwei’s expression turned serious. She opened her mouth to speak several times but swallowed her words back.

“I didn’t see her face clearly. Judging by her style, she seemed younger than us. Quite sophisticated, about this tall…” She gestured with her hand.

It matched.

From giving her perfume, to going out for drinks together, to inviting her to go shopping on the day of the audition…

Drunkenness emboldens the cowardly. If even someone like Yin Yunzhu couldn’t restrain herself, someone with ill intentions certainly wouldn’t. Jiang Menghe realized she had actually believed Yin’s words, treating that person as just an ordinary childhood friend.

They had likely been together for quite some time.

Jiang Menghe rubbed her forehead, brushing aside the hair blocking her vision. Suddenly, she wanted to laugh.

Which bar Yin Yunzhu went to, what friends she made, and who she slept with had nothing to do with her anymore. She was the one who proposed the breakup; there was absolutely no logic in turning back now.

The atmosphere grew so thick it felt tangible. Xin Youwei coughed awkwardly to break the tension. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.”

She had already imagined a scene of Jiang Menghe being trapped by love and losing herself in heartbreak, so she offered a stiff word of comfort.

“A fleeting romance is nothing to hide,” she said in a flat tone. “Who in this circle doesn’t have a lover or a patron by their side?”

The entertainment industry was a dye vat; those who didn’t follow the unspoken rules and join the filth were simply weeded out. Lovers being played with and then handed off to others as favors were common. Those “noble” actors who refused to yield remained obscure to this day.

One had to touch either money, power, or flesh. When Jiang Menghe was first scouted by an entertainment company, she carried a near-exploitative contract. She had been used as a money-making tool for so many years, and it was only after she saved enough to terminate the contract and start her own studio that she secured her current bright future.

Hearing this, Xin Youwei’s eyes widened, shocked by the shift in Jiang Menghe’s perspective. She remembered the woman used to find such sordid affairs repulsive. It was like a tear had appeared in Jiang’s armor, revealing a side of her she never knew existed.

“Alright then. I won’t say much more.” As a friend, Xin Youwei still stood by her. “Your dad is still being held at the police station. When do you plan to pick him up?”

The last incident had involved several bystanders, and there were too many witnesses for Huang Shuang to deny it. Someone had called the police, and the man was taken in immediately. If the tabloid media got wind of this, it would cause another massive scandal.

“In a few days. I’ll go back once I’ve settled in here,” Jiang Menghe replied.

This sight made Xin Youwei’s heart ache. To be stuck with such a father and constantly having to clean up his messes. As a public figure, Jiang Menghe had to walk on thin ice every day to cover for him. A life with no future in sight would have broken anyone else long ago.

Yin Yunzhu returned to the hotel to find Mi Ying had just returned and was sitting on the sofa changing.

“Did you go out to eat?” Yin Yunzhu asked, placing her socks on the floor.

“At the buffet on the first floor. And you?” Yin Yunzhu began tidying her messy bed, feeling embarrassed at her laziness being seen.

“Director He wanted to take us both out for dinner. I saw you were too tired, so I didn’t wake you.” Mi Ying walked to the wardrobe to organize her clothes for a shower.

“What did Director He say?” Yin Yunzhu’s heart skipped a beat. She hurriedly checked her phone.

She had been so obsessed with revising the script and following the group chat discussions that she had set her phone to “Do Not Disturb,” missing several messages. Scrolling to the bottom, she indeed saw a red dot next to He Ping’s name.

He Ping: 6:30 tonight. Meet at the hotel entrance. Bringing you and Xiao Mi for dinner.

After two hours without a reply, she had sent:

He Ping: ?

Yin Yunzhu felt a headache coming on and hit her forehead in frustration before frantically typing an apology.

“It’s not a big deal. She just told me to look after you,” Mi Ying sighed, draping a towel over her arm. “You’re really lucky to have caught Director He’s eye. Who knows, you might adapt several more books in the future.”

“Don’t forget my mentorship when you’re famous,” her voice trailed off as she stepped into the shower and closed the door.

Realizing Mi Ying wouldn’t be out for a while, Yin Yunzhu waited anxiously for a reply while calling home. The phone was picked up almost instantly. A crisp, childish voice rang out.

“Hello—!”

Yin Xuan’s voice was so distinct that Yin Yunzhu felt the exhaustion of her long day melt away.

“Is Mom there?” she asked.

“Nope! Mama went out to play mahjong! Bai Jiali is here looking after Xiaoyu.” The little girl rolled her tongue as she spoke. Hearing her call Bai Jiali by her full name, the sound of stomping footsteps came from the living room.

Knowing Yin Xuan’s mischievous nature, she would definitely crowd around the cat and scare the timid thing. Shan Songyue, knowing this all too well, had brought in reinforcements.

“Is ‘Bai Jiali’ a name you should be calling? No manners!” Bai Jiali pinched Yin Xuan’s cheek, kneading it with the force of someone working dough until the girl squeaked in protest.

“You two stop it. You’re making me want to come home,” Yin Yunzhu said with a laugh.

“Then come back! It’s not like you’re avoiding seeing someone on set anyway—” Bai Jiali’s implication was obvious.

Yin Xuan, who had been on her tiptoes trying to grab the phone, suddenly froze. “Who? Who is it?”

“Your other sister,” Bai Jiali teased, intentionally being vague.

“Jiang Jiang!” Yin Xuan pouted and shouted into the receiver. “Sister, did you have another fight with Jiang Jiang?”

The volume made Yin Yunzhu’s eardrums ring. She hurriedly shoved the phone under her quilt. Hearing the water still running in the bathroom, she breathed a sigh of relief and whispered a warning: “Keep it down!”

Now it was Bai Jiali’s turn to be shocked. “How does she know? You’ve got guts, telling even this loudspeaker.”

Children are terrible at keeping secrets, especially someone as food-motivated as Yin Xuan. A few snacks and she would spill everything.

“Why shouldn’t I know!” Yin Xuan grabbed Bai Jiali’s hand and left a tooth mark as punishment.

The two “loudspeakers” began a new round of bickering until Bai Jiali declared victory, picking up Yin Xuan like a chick and threatening, “You absolutely cannot let Auntie Shan know about this, do you hear me?”

“Why? Just because you bully me!” “Do you want to become an only child?” “I think I’d rather keep my sister.”

Listening to them, Yin Yunzhu felt a mix of amusement and sadness. “We’re broken up. There’s nothing left to say.”

Many illicit or unofficial relationships are only spoken of once they end. A strong sense of irony settled in her heart. Yin Yunzhu thought: If it had been like this from the start, I wouldn’t have had to worry so much. But since things had come to this, ruminating was pointless.

“It’s best if you can move on,” Bai Jiali said after the arguing stopped for a few seconds.

The water in the shower stopped. A few minutes later, Mi Ying walked out with a hair-drying cap. Yin Yunzhu quickly finished her call.

“Talking to family?” Mi Ying asked while loading the washing machine. It seemed like a casual question; she hadn’t overheard the content.

Yin Yunzhu prepared for her own shower, mulling over Mi Ying’s words: “It’s normal to miss them. You’re just starting your stay with the crew. Get some rest; we have to adjust the script again tomorrow. The opening ceremony is the day after.”

She was right. Revising a script was mentally draining. Despite the early hour, Yin Yunzhu decided to head to bed. But the call with her family had left her with a rare case of insomnia.

She would be under the same roof as Jiang Menghe for several months. If she had known, she wouldn’t have burned her bridges so completely. Now, she was the one feeling awkward, while the other woman acted like nothing had happened.

She saw Jiang Menghe again at the crew’s opening ceremony.

The Road to Seeking Continents in ten Thousand Seas was a book she had finished a few years ago—a fantasy-adventure genre. When she wrote it, she never imagined it would sell its film rights. The world-building was grand, and building the sets at such a high cost might not even see a return on investment.

But with Zhao Zhenfang, funding wasn’t an issue. The woman was generous; the day after signing the contract, over three million yuan had been transferred to Yin Yunzhu’s account—enough for a small apartment in Quancheng.

Standing behind the staff, Yin Yunzhu suddenly felt a surge of anticipation for the film.

The weather was clear. Looking out from the staggered steps, she could see the lush forests in the distance. The red tiles and eaves gave off a sense of ancient history. A crowd of people and equipment surrounded the stage.

Jiang Menghe stood out among them. Her tall, superior frame and aura made her easy to spot in a crowd. Beside her stood the girl Yin had seen in the restaurant—Ai Xue, who played Xia Yue. Ai Xue tried to talk to her, but Jiang Menghe made a “hush” gesture, and the girl obediently shut her mouth.

Investors usually didn’t like visiting sets, but Zhao Zhenfang was an exception. Due to her friendship with He Ping, after the director offered incense, she too took three sticks from an assistant and bowed toward the high-hanging wooden plaque.

“Wishing The Road to Seeking Continents in ten Thousand Seas a massive box office success!”

Someone in the crowd shouted, and others joined in. The open square became lively with continuous applause. Yin Yunzhu instinctively looked toward Jiang Menghe. The woman was composed, maintaining a faint smile throughout, offering only symbolic applause.

It was a sharp contrast to Ai Xue, whose cheeks were flushed with excitement. Jiang Menghe’s elegance was etched into her bones.

Feeling a direct gaze, Jiang Menghe glanced over. Her affectionate eyes were as cold as if she were looking at a complete stranger. Their gazes met in the air, and with a silent understanding, they both looked away.

The opening ceremony concluded smoothly, and the set immediately buzzed with activity. The assistant director coordinated the crew to move equipment while inventorying props, and the executive director focused on adjusting multiple camera angles—everyone had a clear division of labor.

The first scene wasn’t from the beginning of the film; the team wanted to test the lighting and setup with a relatively minor segment. Yin Yunzhu wasn’t idle either; she and Mi Ying were summoned by the director.

“I’ve looked over the adjusted script. It needs more work,” He Ping said, sitting before a monitor and flipping through the seventh draft that the two had revised overnight.

With no chairs around, Yin Yunzhu had to crouch down to listen to various suggestions, occasionally asking for clarification on technical terms. After nearly half an hour, her legs were completely numb.

“Give Xiaoyue a bit more screen time in this section. Interweave some memories to make her character more rounded; ideally, show some character arc.”

“Go discuss it with Mi Ying. Her scenes are further along in the schedule, so it’s not urgent for this week,” He Ping said, patting Yin’s shoulder earnestly.

Fortunately, Yin Yunzhu had a habit of writing character biographies. Otherwise, adding a scene out of nowhere would have been jarring, especially since she had finished the book months ago and the finer plot details were starting to blur.

Just as she returned to the rest area, Ai Xue walked over with her assistant.

“Hello!” Ai Xue greeted her enthusiastically. “I saw Director He looking for you just now. I heard it was about me. Are there any changes?”

“We’re adding a scene for you, though it’s for a later part of the plot,” Yin Yunzhu replied awkwardly. She was truly terrible at dealing with strangers, especially someone who was clearly a social butterfly.

“A scene for me?” Ai Xue’s eyes lit up at the news.

Even after officially joining a crew, most actors didn’t receive the full script. Many could only guess their character’s fate based on the original novel.

“Yes.”

Yin Yunzhu pulled a notebook from her bag and fumbled through her previous records. The pages were covered in dense, messy handwriting that was hard to decipher even upon close inspection.

Nearby, she heard Ai Xue complaining to her assistant: “Ugh, so annoying. More lines to memorize.”

Her tone carried a hint of reluctance, but what actor didn’t want more screen time? Especially in a He Ping film—every extra second on screen was another chip in the gamble for fame.

“It’s okay. Even Jiang Menghe might need several NGs. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself,” the assistant comforted her in a coddling tone.

Unlike Ren Yu, whose sweet and pure looks hid a pride and arrogance born from a lifetime in the spotlight, Ai Xue seemed more harmless. Her youthful face was non-threatening when she smiled, with slightly drooping eyes that were lively and clear. Compared to her, Yin Yunzhu seemed more like a “sheltered girl”—introverted and tinged with shyness.

At the mention of Jiang Menghe, Ai Xue seemed to trigger a switch: “Sister Menghe is so amazing, how could she NG?”

“True, that’s the power of a role model,” the assistant followed her lead.

Ai Xue tilted her chin slightly, casting an apparently casual glance at Yin Yunzhu. “You can really learn a lot from being around Sister Menghe. We were on the phone for a long time last night; she was helping me work through my character’s persona.”

“You know?” She tapped her temple. “It was like a sudden enlightenment.”

Catching those words, Yin Yunzhu’s hand, which was outlining the plot, froze. Her black pen bled a small ink dot onto the delicate paper. Reacting quickly, she flipped the page to start a new one.

“Teacher Yin, don’t you also think Sister Menghe is especially wonderful?” Ai Xue suddenly asked out of nowhere.

“She’s alright. I don’t follow the entertainment industry much,” Yin Yunzhu said, tearing off a sticky note and tucking it into her book.

The clean, elegant scent of gardenia suddenly drifted over—lighter than the scent on Jiang Menghe, with a faint milky undertone. The girl had leaned in to look at the plot arrangement.

“It’s okay, you’ll get familiar once you spend more time together, Teacher Yin—”

Yin Yunzhu stood up abruptly, interrupting the girl’s reach, and forced a thin smile.

“The set is too noisy; I can’t focus. I’m heading back to the hotel first.” Leaving those words behind, she walked toward He Ping.

On the first day of filming, the set was mostly occupied by trivial matters. Regarding Yin Yunzhu’s request for leave due to feeling unwell, He Ping offered a few words of concern and readily agreed.

On the way back to the hotel, Yin Yunzhu clutched her bag, Ai Xue’s words echoing in her mind.

Last night… she was actually on the phone with Jiang Menghe for a long time.

She hadn’t been with Jiang Menghe for that long, but having learned her temperament, Yin Yunzhu knew she was someone who tired of dealing with trouble. Although the two of them had spoken frequently, it was usually just to briefly coordinate times and locations.

Jiang Menghe was a patient person, yet not as patient as she appeared. She spoke so many hypocritical words that even she probably couldn’t distinguish the fake kindness from reality.

Actually, Yin Yunzhu had been secretly watching the group since the ceremony. Having seen Ai Xue at the restaurant the night before, she had been curious about her identity and got the answer from Mi Ying. Ai Xue interacted with Jiang Menghe naturally and appropriately; even when rejected, she didn’t hold a grudge, leaning in to tell jokes to make her laugh. Jiang Menghe’s responsive reactions were a stinging sight.

Yin Yunzhu thought she didn’t care, but a sense of imbalance bred a trace of resentment. In just one short month, Jiang Menghe’s speed in adjusting her emotions was astonishing. It made one doubt the sincerity of their previous relationship.

Thinking this, she took a deep breath, pushing the intrusive thoughts away. Whoever she’s intimate or ambiguous with has nothing to do with me.

Since the hotel had been chartered by the crew, the entire building was almost empty during working hours. The spacious, bright lobby was nearly deserted, with the receptionist sitting there playing on her phone.

Waiting for the elevator to reach the first floor, she stepped in and pressed her floor button. Just as the doors were about to close, a hand reached in to stop them.

Startled, Yin Yunzhu hurriedly pressed the “open” button. A woman’s face came into view.

Jiang Menghe stepped slowly into the elevator. She had no scenes today, so she was in casual clothes. Her long, straight black hair was pinned up, with a few stray strands falling over her forehead. She tucked them behind her ear, revealing the delicate, small silver studs in her lobes.

“Couldn’t you just wait for the next one?” Recalling the scene just now, Yin Yunzhu hadn’t fully recovered from the panic. Even if elevators have sensors, it was still nerve-wracking.

“Sorry. I came back to grab something; I’m in a hurry.” Jiang Menghe stood in the corner, her tall silhouette reflected in the elevator walls.

Not knowing what she was even apologizing for, Yin Yunzhu suddenly remembered Ai Xue’s words. Jiang Menghe was always gentle and considerate, distributing her kindness indiscriminately to everyone. She would irresponsibly demand affection, only to withdraw the moment she received a confession.

“There’s no need to apologize to me. We have no relationship, after all,” Yin Yunzhu said, staring straight ahead, her words carrying a childish edge of spite.

The sensation of weightlessness came from beneath her feet as the elevator rose steadily.

Hearing this, Jiang Menghe smiled. “Then who do you have a relationship with?”

It was unclear if this was a casual remark or a subtle hint that Yin was entangled with another woman.

“Who I’m involved with is none of your business!” Yin Yunzhu found it laughable. Why play the good person and offer fake concern now? Where was this attitude before? She had a soft personality, but that didn’t mean there weren’t sharp needles hidden in the cotton. In the cramped space, her raised voice carried a bit of momentum.

Jiang Menghe fell silent. With a “ding,” the elevator reached the designated floor.

Yin Yunzhu walked out and was about to turn the corner when she saw the woman follow her, blocking her path. The woman’s face was no longer as pleasant as before, her brows pressing down slightly. “I don’t even have the right to ask now?”

“May I ask in what capacity and from what position you are questioning my affairs?”

Returning the words from that day in full, Yin Yunzhu didn’t actually feel any sense of satisfaction.

She watched as Jiang Menghe pulled out a long, thin lady’s cigarette, cupped the tip to light it, and didn’t even bother to keep up appearances in front of her. It was blatantly malicious. At the moment they lost their status and became strangers, Yin was forced to accept even her flaws. Jiang Menghe no longer cared about her feelings.

White smoke blurred that beautiful face. The woman turned her head and exhaled slowly, revealing a sharp jawline.

“Colleague.”

The answer was so forced that Yin Yunzhu wanted to laugh. “There are so many staff members in the crew; you can go show your concern for them. I’m just a screenwriter with no say in anything. I really can’t afford your attention.”

“Do you have to speak like this?” Jiang Menghe frowned, repulsed by her sarcasm.

“You consider your attitude back then, and yet you demand a certain attitude from me now. Have you considered my feelings?” Looking at the familiar face before her, Yin Yunzhu felt exhausted.

She didn’t want to keep arguing with Jiang Menghe. A relationship this tangled was better burned away cleanly. Why pull it out to rearrange it?

“You were in a bad mood then, so you took it out on me?” Yin Yunzhu pointed to her chest. “Am I a punching bag? You call whenever you want to see me, kick me away when you don’t, and then try to coax me back a few days later? It doesn’t work that way. Since we’ve made everyone unhappy, why repeat the mistake?”

Realizing her emotions were peaking, she softened her tone, her voice carrying a muffled nasal quality. They were destined to be incompatible. Seeing the pre-determined ending, was she really going to jump back into the fire?

“You’re going too far,” Jiang Menghe frowned. “We’re in the same crew; don’t let the relationship get too strained.”

“I am going too far. Then let me reiterate.”

“Jiang Menghe, I admit I was happy with you. But we’re apart now. There will be someone else by my side sooner or later; continuing the past is only wasting each other’s time—”

“You think being with me is a waste of time?” Jiang Menghe interrupted, her tone mocking.

Yin Yunzhu had rarely seen her show such blatant malice; her voice was as cold as ice. She held her breath, her heart suddenly squeezing with pain.

“Isn’t it?”

Her heart was soaked in the bitterness of grievance. It was just a relationship that could be discarded at any time, why did it have to be so difficult, so humble, so cautious?

The question hit home. Jiang Menghe took a deep drag of her cigarette, the spark dimming. She lowered her eyes and said nothing.

The corridor window wasn’t shut tight; the wind howled as it poured in, dispersing the desolate smoke. The two stood in silent confrontation for a long time before the woman broke the silence.

“Yes.”

Her voice was raspy and low from the smoke, like the rough edge of torn silk.

She admitted it.

Yin Yunzhu curled her lips into a smirk and brushed past her shoulder as she left.

Jiang Menghe was left alone in the corridor. She held the cigarette butt until the spark burned down, sending a searing pain through her. Only then did she snap out of it. A patch of crimson had been burned into her knuckle, yet the woman seemed not to notice. She stared at the mark and walked over to the trash can.

Recalling Yin Yunzhu’s words, she pressed the cigarette butt down and crushed it with force.

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