Shadowed Love: A Lover Who Refuses to Let Go - Chapter 47.2

She truly didn’t have anything to do at the moment. Looking at the entire crew, she was actually the idle one, while even Ai Xue was busy touching up her makeup and memorizing lines.

“Sorry, I’m feeling a bit unwell,” she said, leaning back against the chair.

“I’ll pay you for it.”

That statement might have worked on an extra with a meager daily wage. However, Yin Yunzhu had just received a large sum of money, so she naturally felt disdain for the so-called compensation.

“Please find someone else.” With those words, she pulled out the script, her intent to refuse further communication being more than obvious.

“Alright then,” Ai Xue muttered. She took out her phone and made dozens of calls to someone unknown, none of which were answered. In a fit of pique, she turned off the phone.

Before long, the missing assistant finally appeared. She seemed to have just finished a task, running over with fine beads of sweat on her forehead.

“I’m sorry, Xiao Xue. The assistant director sent the assistants to collect the new costumes just now, and I didn’t have time to tell you.”

“Where are the costumes?” A clear look of impatience surfaced on Ai Xue’s brow, but she held back her anger.

“I put them in the cabinet next to your makeup table.” The assistant placed the coffee and buns she had just bought on the table. “I picked up breakfast on the way.”

Yin Yunzhu’s mind wasn’t on the book at all; she was constantly observing their movements. In her experience, many celebrities were different in private than the image they projected on screen. People like Jiang Menghe, who were the same inside and out, were in the minority.

Actually, she wasn’t entirely the same inside and out either.

As her thoughts wandered, she subconsciously rubbed the wrist bone of her left hand. The spot where the woman had gripped her yesterday showed no remaining marks, yet a faint pain flared up along with the memory.

Why am I thinking of her again?

Yin Yunzhu felt helpless. Truly, one couldn’t be too idle, or they would easily have their emotions manipulated by irrelevant people.

Ai Xue held her steaming coffee, chatting with her assistant about industry news. It was nothing more than which idol had snatched whose endorsement, or which studio had collectively released “water soldiers” to smear a certain actor—things of that nature.

Yin Yunzhu wasn’t very interested in the gossiping.

“By the way, why haven’t I seen Sister Menghe today?” Ai Xue crossed her legs, comfortably scanning the distant set.

Following her gaze, the assistant was also surprised. “You’re right. I remember she has scenes today. Senior Jiang is usually the first to arrive and the last to leave. This is strange.”

Jiang Menghe didn’t have many scenes today—just a conversation with a passerby, mostly single-person shots. Her absence meant those scenes had to be pushed back. He Ping’s temper wasn’t considered explosive in the industry, but with a more rigorous director, an actor who took leave every few days would certainly be seen as acting like a big shot and not respecting the work.

It wasn’t uncommon for actors to bounce between different film crews, but no one knew what Jiang Menghe had gone back to Quancheng for.

Yin Yunzhu had learned this news from Mi Ying, who was on good terms with He Ping’s assistant and kept track of almost everything happening in the crew. Judging by Ai Xue’s reaction, she didn’t seem to know.

“I originally wanted to exchange insights with her,” Ai Xue said regretfully, sighing. “I just couldn’t get into the right state for yesterday’s scene.”

“As expected, it’s better to have someone leading you,” the assistant followed up.

The scent of roasted coffee mingled with the fragrance of gardenia, like the curled edges of flower petals scorched by fire. That was the impression Ai Xue gave—blindly imitating and following Jiang Menghe, only to end up looking neither like one nor the other.

Yin Yunzhu didn’t know if her prejudice against Ai Xue stemmed from the previous night or from having heard about her admiration for Jiang Menghe a long time ago.

As she thought about it, the other girl leaned over at some point, staring at the script page Yin Yunzhu hadn’t turned in a long time. She asked curiously, “Teacher Yin, do you know where Sister Menghe went?”

The question caught her off guard. Yin Yunzhu realized she had been daydreaming and, in her fluster, unintentionally let her true emotions slip. “How would I know about her business?”

Her attitude wasn’t exactly good; it sounded more like a harsh remark made out of spite.

Ai Xue’s eyes were bright and moist; when making eye contact, she looked like a puppy wrapped in love, soft enough to melt one’s heart. But at this moment, a meaningful look surfaced in the depths of her eyes, adding a sense of eeriness for no reason.

“Oh, so Teacher Yin doesn’t know,” she said, sitting up straight with a superficial smile. “I thought you and Sister Menghe were very close.”

“That’s not the case.” A subtle, unspeakable feeling grew in Yin Yunzhu’s heart. She felt that there was an underlying meaning to those words.

Ai Xue’s gaze swept over her unmoving hands. The body’s reaction was more honest than the mouth; the person in front of her clearly had a guilty conscience.

She shrugged her shoulders, feigning disappointment. “Oh? Did I misunderstand?”

“But I clearly saw you talking to Sister Menghe yesterday,” Ai Xue rested her chin on her hand, appearing to be deep in thought. “The two of you were pulling and pushing—”

The drawn-out tone instantly sent Yin Yunzhu’s heart into her throat. She felt the blood in her body freeze, and even her breathing became labored.

She had seen it.

She had seen Jiang Menghe grip her wrist and the confrontation between them. They were in a place full of people, and the former was a high-profile figure; it was only natural to be discovered.

No wonder her attitude toward her was like that last night.

After connecting the dots, everything became clear. Just as Yin Yunzhu was about to make an excuse, Ai Xue pulled her chair closer and whispered in her ear.

“Teacher Yin, your relationship with Sister Menghe is quite extraordinary.”

The humid wind of Quancheng brushed against her cheeks, so light that even the leaves being blown about seemed to sway with life. In this season of universal renewal, Jiang Menghe’s expression was heavy, and she didn’t even bother to put on her usual mask of kindness.

Her linen hat brim fluttered, and she wore a yellow and green floral dress under a short-sleeved denim jacket. She wore flat shoes today, which lessened her usual air of intimidation.

A man was crouching on the steps at the entrance of the police station, using his thumb to flick open a lighter and light a cigarette. The choking, pungent smell of low-quality tobacco was suffocating even from a distance.

Huang Shuang was still wearing that same faded gray jacket. Now that the temperature had risen, he had the zipper open.

Catching sight of Jiang Menghe gradually walking toward him, the man didn’t stand up. He squinted and said, “Why did you take so long to get here?”

“If you were any later, I was going to head to the studio to find someone.” He spoke casually, shaking off the ash. His flushed, dark face was full of impatience.

Jiang Menghe carried a bag over her shoulder. She stood silently looking down at the man on the steps and pursed her lips. “I went to film. I haven’t been in Quancheng these past few days.”

At that, the man gave a mocking laugh. “Not in Quancheng?”

“So unfilial. You knew I’d be pestering you every day and found it annoying,” he stood up to look Jiang Menghe in the eye. “So you just hid out of town, did you?”

“Can you stop being so suspicious?” Jiang Menghe said helplessly. “It was entirely for work.”

“Doesn’t matter. Since I have nowhere to stay, I’ll just wait here.” Huang Shuang threw away the cigarette butt and ground it hard with the sole of his shoe, looking back at the police station sign behind them.

His words held a hidden threat, and Jiang Menghe didn’t fail to hear it. She let out a breath, turned around, and said, “The car is parked over there. I’ve booked a hotel for you. Don’t cause any trouble these next few days. Just stay quiet.”

Huang Shuang spat and sneered behind her as she turned away. “Already trying to boss your father around.”

Jiang Menghe knew his temperament all too well. His ability to order her around meant he still had money to squander. When the man went quietly without contacting her for half a month, she actually felt relieved—at least he wasn’t out causing trouble and leaving her to clean up the mess.

The car was parked at a discreet intersection. She fastened her safety belt. Once the cramped space was filled with a strong, nauseating smell, Huang Shuang slammed the car door shut.

“I’ve booked the room for three months. If you don’t have money for food, use the room service. Someone will come to clean the room every day.” Jiang Menghe gave detailed instructions; in truth, her patience had reached its limit.

Since it was a workday, the roads were empty at this hour, and the journey was unobstructed.

Huang Shuang looked around the interior of the car and couldn’t help but click his tongue. “As expected, heartless people always live well. Back then, you put your father in prison to suffer for the sake of justice. You didn’t visit me once in ten years, and by the time I get out, you’ve become a big star!”

“When are you going to get me a car like this to play with?”

“The studio rented it. I don’t usually have a car.” Jiang Menghe gripped the steering wheel, her tone indifferent.

Her chest felt scorched by the smell of low-quality smoke, and a nauseating acidity rose in her throat. Being in the same space as him for even a second was torture.

“Don’t be like that. You seem pretty rich to me, why don’t you spend any on me?” Huang Shuang crossed his hands over his lap. His ill-fitting jeans, which hadn’t been changed for a long time, had loose threads from being snagged.

“Is it all being spent on someone else?” He narrowed his eyes and smiled, his raw malice unconcealed.

“I saw it when I was lurking outside your house last time. You have a new girlfriend.”

“If I can’t get money from you, I’ll go and ask her. I know where she lives anyway.”

The car came to a sudden halt, a sharp screech accompanied by heart-pounding fear as it stopped crookedly by the roadside.

Both leaned forward from the momentum. Jiang Menghe leaned against the steering wheel, her hair hanging loosely and disheveled by her ears.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

She barked out the words, her hand turning pale with visible veins from the force of her grip.

The man’s indifferent, unmovable expression was even more disgusting. He spread his hands and said, “What else can I do? I have no money to spend. I can’t exactly go and rob someone, can I?”

No wonder. No wonder he was so fearless and no longer as cautious as before. It turned out he had already discovered her weakness. It was never surprising when someone at the end of their rope did something extreme.

Jiang Menghe felt an oppressive pain in her heart, like a spring being pushed to its limit.

“Is the five hundred thousand I gave you last time gone?” She closed the car windows and composed herself.

“Not a cent left,” Huang Shuang said with a tone full of pride.

“Wait for it. I’ll transfer money to your card later.” Jiang Menghe stepped on the accelerator.

As the words left her mouth, the eerie atmosphere in the car dissipated. The man in the passenger seat looked at her with satisfaction, like a proud father.

“Our Menghe has grown up. She knows how to honor her father.”

“Unlike when she was a little ungrateful wolf.”

“No need to bring up the past. It’s over.” Jiang Menghe cut him off.

For a moment, the past was like a loose manhole cover being pried open, the darkness and stench rushing out together, pressing the glamorous her back into the helpless mire from which there was no escape.

Ten years was still too short.

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