Spring Night of Misty Rain - Chapter 8

Chen Ci’s executive power was terrifyingly strong. By noon the next day, she had already dragged Shen Zeyu to the gym.

After considering various factors, she selected a chain gym about two kilometers away and hand-picked a female trainer for Shen Zeyu.

After the physical exam, Chen Ci stared at the number “44kg” in the weight column, her eyes nearly spitting fire. She gripped the exam sheet, turned to the female trainer, and said, “One year. I want her to gain thirty pounds!”

Standing to the side, Shen Zeyu’s mouth twitched. She offered a well-meaning reminder: “Senior Sister, you’re really asking for the impossible.”

Gain thirty pounds? That would put me at 118.

At her heaviest, she hadn’t exceeded 110. It felt impossible.

The female trainer, however, accepted the task with a smile. “It’s not a difficult thing, but it will require a custom private plan. From diet to training, every aspect will have to be controlled by us.”

The implication was clear: it was going to cost extra.

Had Shen Zeyu just been discharged, she certainly wouldn’t have been able to afford such an expense. But she had just received a large sum of income, and Chen Ci was determined to spend it all on her.

Before Shen Zeyu could protest, Chen Ci had already briskly signed the contract.

As they left the gym, Shen Zeyu hesitated. “Five hundred thousand a year… I think it’s a bit expensive.”

Upon hearing this, Chen Ci immediately flared up. “Five hundred thousand a year is expensive? Back then, a single watch you bought for Shang Qiuchi cost more than this! How come you’re stingy now that the money is being spent on yourself?”

“Oh, I get it. You just love being a ‘sucker’ who spends money on other women!”

Shen Zeyu came from a family of traditional potters; her grandmother was a renowned scholar with students all over the country. She was from a typical “scholarly” background, and her view on money was similar to most middle-class families. She didn’t seek great wealth—as long as she was fed and clothed, she was content. She pursued spiritual enrichment over material abundance.

But Shang Qiuchi was different.

The Shang family had started in the catering industry and placed a high premium on “appearances.” Since her youth, Shang Qiuchi’s standard of living was benchmarked against the upper class. Which watch to wear for which occasion, what clothes to put on, how to dine and entertain guests—everything was meticulously calculated.

Therefore, after the two began dating, most of the money Shen Zeyu earned went toward buying her bags, jewelry, and watches.

Shang Qiuchi wore luxury brands provided by sponsors, while Shen Zeyu wore plain, affordable clothes bought randomly off Taobao.

Standing together, they presented a stark contrast: one a glamorous superstar, the other a modest, elegant scholar.

As Shang Qiuchi’s fame grew, the disparity became even more glaring.

Chen Ci felt the woman was too ambitious and not a good match for Shen Zeyu. She had warned her more than once: “You won’t last long.”

Shen Zeyu had also been self-aware. Hearing this, she would only smile faintly. “I know. She is the moon in the sky; she only accidentally fell into the palm of my hand. I am merely holding her as we walk for a while. One day, she will return to the heavens to be admired by ten thousand people.”

“No one could help but love her.”

When she said those things, a shadow would hide in the depths of her eyes, carrying a faint sorrow. “I just want to walk well while we can still walk together. That way, when the day comes to part, I won’t have any regrets.”

Hearing these words at the time, Chen Ci felt like she couldn’t breathe. She rolled her eyes aggressively. “You and your ‘love brain’! You’re hopeless!”

She felt Shen Zeyu was too naive and underestimated the evil in human nature. She didn’t realize there were people in this world who would “eat from the pot while looking at the bowl.”

In her eyes, Shang Qiuchi was a “Green Tea” manipulator who had two boats in the water—flirting with the eldest daughter of the Jin family, Jin Yue, while simultaneously coveting the decade of emotional stability provided by Shen Zeyu, refusing to let go.

When Shang Qiuchi finally played herself, got stabbed in the back by Jin Yue’s ex-girlfriend, and was blacklisted after her “shipwreck” went public, Chen Ci had cheered for justice!

However, because the betrayal had pushed Shen Zeyu to the brink of death, Chen Ci hated the woman with a passion. If murder weren’t illegal, Chen Ci could have executed Shang Qiuchi ten thousand times over.

If she weren’t afraid of destroying Shen Zeyu further, she would have dragged her out of the psychiatric hospital and handed her a knife to go stab someone at the Jin residence.

In her view, Shen Zeyu shouldn’t have been the one trying to commit suicide. Someone else deserved to die!

But Shen Zeyu was just that kind of person. In the education she received since childhood, “attacking others” was not an option. Having grown up, she lacked the ability to protect herself.

Did Shen Zeyu want to die?

How could a person who grew up in a kind home, protected by her grandmother, someone who always did good deeds and possessed brilliant talent, end her life so easily?

She didn’t want to die; she just wanted to end the pain.

But how much pain must a person be in to see death as the only way to stop it?

Whenever she thought of this, Chen Ci wanted to kill everyone involved. Every single one of them.

They deserve to die, these people!

Chen Ci knew herself well. Her personality was one that clearly distinguished between love and hate, and she was even more fierce than Shen Zeyu. Despite her love for drama, she wasn’t suited for the entertainment industry. Therefore, after graduating, she returned to Jinwu. She took over the family pottery factory on one hand and, out of hobby, joined the Jinwu Drama Club, eventually becoming its new president.

Drama wasn’t easy to sustain these days. If Shen Zeyu hadn’t injected five million yuan into it at the start, she wouldn’t have been able to keep it going. Because of those five million, even if the whole world called Shen Zeyu a “lunatic” or a “slasher,” Chen Ci could never abandon her.

Didn’t she know what kind of person Shen Zeyu was? She threw money at her friends and family while living a stingy life herself—exactly like her prestigious grandmother, Yang Feixia.

The thought of it reignited Chen Ci’s fury. “I’m telling you, you shouldn’t have paid off those debts for Shang Qiuchi in the first place!”

“Why should you? She and Jin Yue were in a foreign country having ‘seven babies in one birth’ via surrogacy, while you were back home frantically plugging her financial holes. Since when does the world work like that?”

“No, I’m calling her right now. I’m making her return every cent!”

The more Chen Ci thought about it, the angrier she got. She pulled out her phone to call Shang Qiuchi’s manager.

Shen Zeyu quickly reached out to stop her. “Alright, alright, Senior Sister. Don’t be angry.”

“I won’t mention it again. I’ll go to the gym every day, okay?”

Chen Ci swept a sharp glance over her. “You’ll really go every day?”

Shen Zeyu nearly bowed to the floor. “Mm, I really will.”

Only after getting the guarantee did Chen Ci tuck her phone away with a cold snort. “Smart move.”

Seeing that the ancestor had finally calmed down, Shen Zeyu breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes looking helpless. “Don’t bring up Shang Qiuchi anymore. I didn’t do it just to pay her debts.”

“The company was jointly held by her and me. In business, you can’t just take the benefits without bearing the risks. Moreover, the extra money I paid was to buy back her shares in ‘Le He.’ You know that better than anyone.”

“As for our relationship… well…” Shen Zeyu paused and sighed. “I think she has already received the lesson she deserved.”

Chen Ci snorted, her eyes full of disdain. “No kidding. Trying to fly up and become a phoenix—she should have checked if she had the wings for it first.”

“She really thought being a wealthy socialite wife would be that easy? She reeks of new money and got bitten by the guard dog before she even stepped through the door.”

“Now she can only stay home as a nanny for those kids…”

After a string of insults, Chen Ci spat out the final word: “Serves her right!”

As it was someone she had once loved, Shen Zeyu didn’t feel it was her place to comment on her current downfall. Besides, looking at her own “half-human, half-ghost” state, she wasn’t sure who was in a more embarrassing position.

Shen Zeyu turned her gaze toward the blooming crabapple flowers in the distance and said softly, “Let’s stop talking about it. Senior Sister, let’s go home.”

The female trainer at the gym was incredibly dedicated. Starting that day, she arrived at Shen Zeyu’s house at 7:30 every morning to fish her out of bed for breakfast.

After eating, she would lead her through some light movement, take her for an hour-long walk to the gym, and then drop her off to do strength training after lunch.

During the first week, Shen Zeyu was exhausted to the point of being half-dead, barely able to catch her breath. By the second week, she was much better—at least her breathing was steady.

While Shen Zeyu was being worked to the bone by the trainer, Xu Luosu had finalized the first project she wanted to film.

As the crabapple blossoms were beginning to fade, Shen Zeyu received a message from Xu Luosu: “The four projects have been officially registered. For our first collaboration, I want to film the Ye Lan series.”

“The female lead has been chosen. It’s Tang Qingyue.”

At that moment, Shen Zeyu had just finished being “tortured” by her trainer. When she saw the last part of the message, she nearly tripped off the escalator.

Wait. Even if I’ve been in the hospital for two years, I still know that Tang Qingyue is one of the hottest A-list stars right now.

Shen Zeyu had seen Tang Qingyue’s work before; she was a “method” actress from a non-traditional background with incredible versatility. Her upper face was striking and sharp, but her lower face had a youthful, innocent quality, allowing her to handle a vast range of roles.

Shen Zeyu thought about the story of Ye Lan. She pondered for a moment, walked off the escalator with a frown, and quickly typed: “The fit is good, but can you actually get her for your schedule?”

An A-list star who can carry a show on her own name never lacks for scripts. To book them, unless you are a close acquaintance, the schedule is usually packed three years in advance.

Three years? The opportunity would be long gone.

But then again, what does that have to do with me?

Shen Zeyu thought for a moment and went to withdraw the message.

But Xu Luosu had already seen it.

She glanced at her phone, withdrew her gaze, and looked at Tang Qingyue sitting across from her. “Two million per episode, plus a 10% profit share. I hope Sister Qingyue will consider it again.”

In the dressing room on the set, Tang Qingyue was wearing heavy Qing Dynasty palace makeup. She held a cup of coffee and gave a faint smile. “Xiao Su, it’s not that I’m not giving you face, but your timing is a bit…”

Tang Qingyue sighed, her eyes looking helpless. “If only you had come a month earlier, I would have given the slot to you.”

Xu Luosu wasn’t discouraged. Instead, she smiled. “It doesn’t matter. After all, you haven’t signed the contract with ‘Jin Tian’ yet, have you? Since you’re still considering, why not consider me?”

Tang Qingyue paused. Seeing the determination in Xu Luosu’s eyes, she sighed. “It’s true I haven’t signed yet, but…”

Before she could finish, Xu Luosu interrupted her. “Sister Qingyue, why don’t you listen to my analysis first?”

“I’ve looked into it. The lineup Jin Tian is offering you is Director Wen Tian, screenwriter Lin Pei, and stylist Yang Tianxiao… those are the pillars of ‘Star Sea.’ But what I can give you is an even better team.”

Tang Qingyue raised an eyebrow and set down her coffee cup. “Oh? I’d like to hear what kind of team you can assemble that’s better than the current top-tier lineup in the industry.”

Xu Luosu laughed, her eyes shining bright. “Director Qin Zhiyue, screenwriter Jin Ze, and stylist Meng Fei…”

Qin Zhiyue was a director who had just swept the “Triple Gold” film festivals. Meng Fei was the top stylist in the circle. And as for Jin Ze…

That was Shen Zeyu’s pen name.

This was the team that had once received a nomination at the Maple City Film Festival.

Tang Qingyue’s pupils contracted slightly. Then, she gave a soft laugh. “The team is excellent, but the way of shooting for films and TV dramas is ultimately different.”

Xu Luosu smilingly pulled a stack of scripts from her briefcase and slammed them onto the table. “How about Sister Qingyue finishes reading the scripts before considering that question?”

“If you think they’re no good, you can reject me then.”