She Got Revenge on Her Ex-Girlfriend Through a Kiss Scene - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The first morning back in the ancient town was draped in a thin, veil-like mist.

When Xi Jisheng pushed open her wooden window, she happened to see Lou Ningyu jogging along the cobblestone road. Clad in a gray tracksuit, Lou’s ponytail swung rhythmically behind her head, her white breath melting into the morning fog.

As if sensing something, Lou Ningyu suddenly looked up. Their gazes met briefly in mid-air. Xi Jisheng instinctively wanted to retreat, but instead, she gave a slight nod. When she closed the window, her movements were three seconds gentler than usual.

This subtle shift did not escape the keen eyes of the veteran crew members.

“Something’s off.”

Xiao Wang, the script supervisor, sat by the monitor munching on a bun, his eyes fixed on the two women entering the set.

“Who’s off?” asked Lao Chen, the Director of Photography, while adjusting a lens.

“Those two,” Xiao Wang whispered. “Look, Teacher Lou didn’t take the long way today; she ran right past Teacher Xi’s room. Two days ago, she was taking the backstreets just to avoid a run-in.”

Lao Chen glanced over. Xi Jisheng was sitting before the vanity with her eyes closed, resting, while Lou Ningyu sat in the adjacent spot flipping through a script. There was a one-person gap between them—but on the makeup table, next to Lou Ningyu’s water bottle, sat the thermos Xi Jisheng habitually used.

“Before, it was like they were separated by a galaxy,” Xiao Wang concluded. “Now… Is it a small stream? The kind you could wade across at any moment.”

…

The Rehearsal: The Weight of Silence

Inside the dressing room, Lou Ningyu was indeed discussing a scene.

“In this scene waiting outside the operating theater, Shen Su should be numb,” she pointed to the script. “Her mother had a sudden brain hemorrhage; she rushed from the set to the hospital, signed a pile of consent forms, and then… just waited. In those moments, a person is empty.”

Xi Jisheng opened her eyes, looking at her through the mirror. “And when will Zhou Yin arrive?”

“Zhou Yin is her anchor,” Lou Ningyu said. “So when she sits down and takes Shen Su’s hand, no lines are needed. One gesture is enough—not a simple hold, but the kind where the fingers spread and lock into each other.”

Xi Jisheng’s fingertips twitched on her lap. Lou Ningyu caught the details.

“You know that feeling,” Lou said firmly.

“…Yes,” Xi Jisheng replied softly.

The atmosphere had changed. Like a thawing stream, there was still thin ice on the surface, but the living water was flowing beneath.

…

The Scene: The Anchor

Before filming began, Director Peng Ke called the leads to the monitor.

“This scene is simple,” Peng said. “It’s waiting. But I don’t want ‘performed’ waiting; I want the real, agonizing wait where every second is stretched. That light over the surgery door is the only thing your world hangs on.”

Filming started. On the hospital bench, Xi Jisheng’s Shen Su sat bolt upright, hands clenched on her knees, eyes fixed on the “In Surgery” red light.

“Cut!” Peng shouted. “Jisheng, too tense. After three hours of waiting, a person is exhausted, broken.”

Second take. Xi Jisheng adjusted her posture, her back slightly hunched. Her right hand began unconsciously picking at her left knee—a personal habit she had when nervous.

Lou Ningyu ran in from the end of the corridor, hair disheveled, breath shallow. She sat beside Xi Jisheng, not speaking, merely following her gaze to the surgery door. A long silence followed.

Then, Lou Ningyu reached out and covered Xi Jisheng’s hand that was picking at her knee. Xi Jisheng froze. The gesture wasn’t in the script.

Behind the monitor, Peng Ke raised an eyebrow but didn’t call cut.

Lou Ningyu’s fingers gently but firmly pried apart Xi Jisheng’s clenched hands, interlacing them. Xi Jisheng finally turned to look at her, something shattering in her eyes.

“I’m here,” Lou Ningyu said.

Only two words. But her thumb brushed against the back of Xi Jisheng’s hand—the exact way Lou used to soothe her seven years ago.

“Cut!” Peng’s voice was filled with excitement. “Perfect! That’s it! The unspoken understanding, the trust of one hand tightening while the other offers a shoulder—that’s the feeling!”

The set was silent for a few seconds. They remained on the bench, hands still interlaced. Five seconds. Ten seconds.

Xi Jisheng let go first, her movements stiff. “Sorry, I got caught up in the role.”

…

The Storm: The “Real” Proof

That night at 11:00 PM, #LouNingyuXiJishengHandHolding hit #1 on the trending list. The whistleblower was @EntertainmentDetectiveShuQin, a notorious paparazzi. She posted a nine-grid gallery with the caption:

[Actual Proof?] Xi Jisheng’s mother is seriously ill; Lou Ningyu accompanied her back to Beijing!

Airport photos + Hospital sightings!

Pro-tip: The last photo is high energy!

The first eight photos showed them at the airport and hospital—close, but not explicitly intimate. But the final photo was a grainy, long-lens shot of a hospital rooftop. Two blurry figures stood side-by-side, one holding the other’s hand. Even with the low pixels, anyone familiar with them knew—it was Xi Jisheng and Lou Ningyu.

The internet exploded:

“Wait, her mom is sick? That’s awful.”

“Lou Ningyu went to the hospital with her… how close are they?!”

“Shippers, we win! It’s real!”

“Is she using her mom’s illness for hype? That’s a new low.”

…

The Confrontation

In her room, Xi Jisheng stared at the cracked screen of her phone. There was a knock at the door. Lou Ningyu walked in, having secured a keycard from the front desk.

“You saw it,” Lou said.

“How do we respond?” Xi Jisheng laughed dryly. “Tell them we’re just colleagues? Tell them it’s a camera angle?”

“We have three choices,” Lou said. “Deny it, stay silent, or… admit part of the truth.”

“Admit what?” Xi Jisheng’s voice shook. “Admit you’re my ‘ex’? The public doesn’t care who I am! Seven years ago, I was called a ‘clout-chaser’ and a ‘schemer.’ I remember every single comment!”

“It’s different now,” Lou stepped closer. “We are stronger.”

“You are,” Xi interrupted. “You have awards, fans, and status. You can afford a scandal. But me? I have a mother to support and a career that hasn’t even restarted. I can’t afford to gamble, Lou Ningyu.”

…

The Decision

A video conference started with their managers and a PR consultant. Lou Ningyu dropped a bombshell: “Tell them it’s me. Say I’m the one pestering her. Say I followed her to Beijing against her will. Draw the fire to me.”

“No!” Xi Jisheng shouted into the camera. “I pushed you away seven years ago to protect you. I won’t let you be my shield now.”

Then, Ai Ye, the veteran producer, joined the call. “Children,” her voice was calm but heavy. “Do you remember the theme of Echo? It’s ‘No Regrets.’ Shen Su and Zhou Yin missed twenty years because of pride and fear. Are you going to wait until you’re fifty to stop saying ‘What if’?”

Ai Ye gave her advice: Don’t confirm, but stop denying. Use the film’s production period to figure out what you truly want.

After the meeting, Xi Jisheng sat alone. She opened Weibo and saw her DMs filled with malice:

“Using your mom to hype yourself with Lou Ningyu? Shameless.”

“Washed-up actress trying to stay relevant.”