The Supporting Female Lead Chooses to Mark the Villain [Rebirth] - Chapter 100

It was only after returning to the apartment that Shen Nian began to truly experience the tangible reality of her “amnesia.”

Logically, having never been to this place before, she should have felt like a stranger. Yet the reality was exactly the opposite.

The moment she stepped out of the elevator, she habitually turned left. It wasn’t until she reached out toward the fingerprint scanner that she realized something was wrong. She paused and looked back tentatively at Shen Zui.

Shen Zui gestured with her eyes for her to continue. Only then did Shen Nian press her finger down. With a soft beep, the locked door swung open for its master.

Shen Nian didn’t step inside immediately. She stood at the threshold, lost in thought.

“Go in,” Shen Zui said, coming up behind her.

Feeling the source of heat approaching, Shen Nian’s body stiffened. She quickly pulled the door open and hurried inside, vanishing from Shen Zui’s line of sight.

As she explored, she realized she knew the layout of the house like the back of her hand. The dining room and living room were obvious enough, and identifying the master bedroom could perhaps be written off as luck. But later that evening, when she had a sudden whim to find a warm sweater and walked into the walk-in closet—opening the bottom drawer of the third cabinet on the left without a moment’s hesitation—Shen Nian could no longer lie to herself.

I really lived here, she thought. And for a very long time.

This meant that Shen Zui’s claims about their relationship were, in all likelihood, entirely true. Shen Nian shuddered. She found she still couldn’t accept this reality. Just the thought of her name being linked with Shen Zui’s caused her physical discomfort.

Desperate to escape it all, she contacted Mo Huai, the woman who claimed to be her manager.

Mo Huai had been so busy lately she was practically burning out. News of Shen Nian’s injury had spread across the internet the very next day, triggering an avalanche of public opinion: worry, prayers, and vitriol directed at Meng Qin. While the studio had released a statement saying she was fine, Shen Nian hadn’t appeared in person, which did little to soothe the fans.

Mo Huai had considered asking Shen Nian to record a safety-check video, but Shen Zui kept a tight leash on her. Mo Huai didn’t have the heart—nor the courage—to cross the great President Shen. So, when she heard Shen Nian expressing a desire to get back to work, she was overjoyed.

“Are you sure?” Mo Huai quickly calmed down. “Uhm… is your illness better? Are you fit to go out?”

“Mhm, the wounds are mostly healed,” Shen Nian said softly. “It’s not a big deal. As long as it isn’t high-intensity work, there won’t be a problem.”

“That’s good then.” Mo Huai breathed a sigh of relief. After a pause, she asked, “And what does President Shen think…?”

“Why should I care what she thinks?” Shen Nian frowned. “Is she a shareholder of the company? My guardian? Do I not even have basic personal freedom?”

“That’s not it at all,” Mo Huai said quickly. She thought for a moment. “I’ll arrange some low-intensity activities first to test the waters. The online fervor hasn’t died down yet; it would be best for you to appear and reassure the fans.”

Shen Nian’s mood relaxed slightly. “Good.”

And so, concealing the fact of her amnesia, she restarted her career with Mo Huai’s help.

In her “previous life,” her career had just been getting on track when she fell. Now, she was the actual person in power at “Cheng Yue.” Having immense decision-making power made her feel even more like a fish in water at work.

On the other hand, Mo Huai discovered that the amnesiac Shen Nian was actually easier to manage. In the past, the Sang Nian who had left Shen Zui was cold and closed off, unwilling to touch anything outside of her specific work. She was picky, refusing variety shows and pushing off offline promotions whenever possible.

But this Shen Nian was different! She cherished everything she had. As long as an activity benefited her work, she wouldn’t even flinch at flying to five cities in a week to promote a film. With her increased public presence, fans and media were delighted. For a time, it seemed like a win-win situation for everyone.

Two months passed in a flash.

Shen Nian was reminded that she wasn’t fully recovered when Mo Huai told her she needed to go to the hospital for a follow-up. She had her assistant book a flight back to City A for the next day. When the nurse welcomed her into the chief physician’s office, she suddenly felt a sense of trepidation.

To her surprise, the female doctor was alone in the office.

“Miss Sang,” the doctor greeted her warmly. “Looking for something?”

Shen Nian shook her head. The doctor invited her to sit and began reviewing her latest check-up results, asking about her recent health.

“Everything is fine,” Shen Nian replied.

“Have you remembered anything?”

“No.”

“Nothing at all?”

Shen Nian shook her head honestly. “No. I only occasionally feel a sense of familiarity with things I shouldn’t have any impression of.”

“For example?”

“Like the apartment at home, the company building, and some people I supposedly didn’t know…” Shen Nian listed them as she recalled. Finally, she smiled. “But it’s fine; it doesn’t affect my daily life.”

The doctor fell silent.

“Is something wrong?” Shen Nian asked, worried.

“Not exactly.” The doctor looked down at the medical records. She thought for a moment before asking, “I get the feeling you aren’t very proactive about regaining your past memories.” She looked at Shen Nian. “Or rather, you don’t actually want to remember.”

Shen Nian fell into a difficult silence.

Seeing her heavy expression, the doctor laughed to lighten the mood. “There’s no need for too much pressure. As you said, your current condition doesn’t affect your life or work.”

“Right,” Shen Nian nodded.

The follow-up lasted about two hours. When it ended, the doctor stood to see her to the door. Having held it in for a long time, Shen Nian finally couldn’t help but ask, “Am I the only one here today?”

The doctor didn’t catch the true meaning of the question but inadvertently mentioned her. “President Shen gave instructions; this afternoon, this office is only seeing you.”

Shen Nian processed this. “She arranged the follow-up?”

“Yes.”

Shen Nian grew thoughtful. “Why didn’t she come?”

The doctor blinked. “Well…” She threw the question back. “Do you think it’s necessary for President Shen to participate in person? Or would her presence affect your condition…?”

“No,” Shen Nian interrupted, sounding a bit embarrassed. She didn’t know why she felt so guilty. “It’s just… when I was hospitalized, wasn’t it always her talking to you?”

The doctor observed her expression and suddenly nodded in realization. “Yes,” she said. “She cares for you deeply. But ultimately, your own feelings are more important. Beyond arranging the diagnostics, there isn’t much else President Shen can do to help.”

“Oh,” Shen Nian murmured.

“She came to pick up some medicine the day before yesterday, and we talked for a bit,” the doctor added. “She has always hoped you would get better soon.”

“Pick up medicine?” Shen Nian caught the keyword. “Is she sick?”

The doctor lowered her eyes and said calmly, “Anxiety, insomnia—common enough ailments.”

Shen Nian didn’t notice how easily the doctor was disclosing another person’s privacy; she was only confused. “Isn’t this the neurology department? Do you need to come here for ordinary anxiety and insomnia?”

The doctor was glad she was wearing a mask. “You’re very sharp… uh, President Shen’s symptoms are somewhat severe. She needs long-term medication.”

Shen Nian: “…”

The doctor looked at her. “Are you very concerned about her?”

It felt as though someone had rapped Shen Nian on the forehead, startling her out of her daze. She immediately shook her head in denial. “No!”

The doctor squinted, her expression quite subtle. Shen Nian felt a surge of panic at being seen through and hurried to say goodbye, rushing downstairs into the company car.

“Nian-jie,” her assistant said, immediately putting down her phone. “Where are we going now?”

Shen Nian’s mind was in a mess. “Where… can we go?”

“Uh,” the assistant’s voice grew timid. “Well, Sister Mo said you should rest well this week. Should I take you back home, or go to a hotel?”

“Home?” Shen Nian found the word novel. Did she really have a home? “Go to the hotel near the company,” she decided.

She thought she should probably buy her own house. Her bank balance was more than enough; she didn’t have to keep drifting between hotels. The assistant nodded, and the driver started the car.

City A was highly urbanized and the car drove smoothly. In the faint vibrations of the ride, Shen Nian actually fell asleep. She didn’t wake up until dusk, when the assistant carefully nudged her. “Nian-jie, we’re here…”

They had actually arrived long ago, but knowing how busy Shen Nian had been, the assistant hadn’t dared to wake her, waiting for over an hour with the driver.

Shen Nian opened her eyes groatily. The car was parked by the curb, and the rays of the setting sun slanted in, filling her vision with a lonely orange glow. Some people feel an inexplicable fear when waking up at dusk—there’s an old saying that in ancient times, waking at twilight meant you had been separated from the tribe and would have to face the long night alone.

Shen Nian’s heart raced. A wave of panic surged over her and then receded like a tide, leaving her trapped and disheveled.

“At the hotel?”

“Yes,” the assistant said. “But I can’t find your ID card. Did you have it on you when you went to the doctor?”

Shen Nian felt her pockets. “No.”

“Then…” the assistant said, “I’ll use my ID to check in.” She pushed the door open to get out but didn’t notice a pedestrian behind the car, nearly knocking them over. The pedestrian was a little girl who stumbled back into her mother’s arms, crying in fright.

The assistant retreated into the car, bowing her head and apologizing.

“…Let’s go back to the apartment.”

The assistant suddenly heard Shen Nian’s muffled voice and turned to see her looking out the window.

“Using your ID isn’t very convenient,” Shen Nian said, closing her eyes. “Let’s go back to the apartment. Just for two days.”

The assistant snapped to attention. “Okay.”

The car restarted, carrying her through the lonely twilight toward the place defined as “home.”

By the time they arrived, it was night. The winter wind was biting. Shen Nian thanked her driver and assistant, sending a voice message to Mo Huai in front of them to tell her to record triple overtime pay for both. Amidst their chorus of praise, her mood improved slightly as she stepped out of the car.

The fingerprint lock hadn’t been changed. One press and the door opened. The nanny was in the living room playing with Sunny; hearing the noise, both looked over.

Shen Nian twitched the corner of her mouth. “Good evening.”

“Mommy!” Sunny cried out.

Shen Nian braced herself for the little girl to pounce on her, but Sunny didn’t move. She sat still, her eyes never leaving Shen Nian. “Mommy is back.”

Shen Nian walked over and gave a soft “Mhm.”

Sunny tilted her head. “I saw you on TV.”

Shen Nian thought the way the little thing spoke was incredibly cute. She sat on the rug about a meter away. “Is that so? What was I doing?”

“You were surrounded by lots of people,” the girl narrated without much emotion. “Someone gave you flowers.”

Shen Nian guessed it was from an offline fan meeting. She reflexively invited her, “Next time you can come to the scene. Ask your mama to take you.”

To her surprise, Sunny shook her head.

“What’s wrong?” Shen Nian asked.

Sunny looked at her and asked a question Shen Nian had never considered: “Are we the same as those people?”

Shen Nian was puzzled. “Which people?”

“The people blocked by the security guards.”

In the footage recorded by photographers, fans would surge forward frantically, hoping for even a moment of contact with their idol. The security maintaining order treated them like monsters who would swallow Shen Nian whole, blocking them firmly.

Are Shen Zui and Sunny just like them?

Shen Nian’s expression froze. While she was silent, Sunny looked down and toyed with her doll’s hair. The little girl added, “Mama said not to ‘affect’ you.”

Shen Nian: “…”

“Mommy,” the girl asked, “what is ‘affect’?”

Shen Nian stood up so abruptly she felt a bit dizzy. “Where is Mama?” she asked.

Sunny pointed toward the other end of the hallway. “In the room.”

Shen Nian didn’t even ask which room. She dropped a quick “I’ll go see her” and fled. It wasn’t until she could no longer see Sunny that she stopped, leaning against the wall and gasping for air.

It was so foreign. Unlike when she was in the hospital, she had clearly caught the sense of distance and fear in the little girl’s eyes. Once she calmed down, Shen Nian felt this change was perfectly logical; what she couldn’t understand was why it made her feel so panicked. What was she afraid of?

The door to the master bedroom was right there. Following her will, she opened it. The room was dark. She turned on the light and found a thin woman lying on the bed. Shen Nian approached, using the light to see Shen Zui’s features.

She was as glamorous as ever. Even with obvious dark circles under her eyes and her face partially covered by her black hair, she couldn’t hide that aura that fascinated Shen Nian. Shen Nian sat cautiously beside her, reaching out to touch her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin.

Shen Zui…

Even just looking at her quietly, Shen Nian could feel the bond between them. Shen Zui’s body still carried the scent of pheromones from a total marking—a trace that only Shen Nian could perceive. Certain absurd thoughts began to sprout uncontrollably, especially as she realized that this woman actually belonged to her.

Perhaps it was the other’s defenseless sleeping face that made Shen Nian let down her guard. She began to separate this woman from the “Shen Zui” of her memories. Although she didn’t fully succeed, the original estrangement and resentment faded significantly.

Lost in thought, her hand seemed to have a mind of its own. After brushing against Shen Zui’s cheek, it wandered toward her neck, seeking the gland that had been visited many times before. Such an action undoubtedly disturbed the shallow sleeper. Shen Zui let out a soft moan and slowly opened her eyes.

Despite being the one doing the disturbing, Shen Nian was startled and practically bounced off the bed. Shen Zui looked up, catching sight of her embarrassed state—not knowing where to put her hands. The bedroom was so quiet it was almost oppressive.

Just as Shen Nian gathered her courage to say hello, Shen Zui spoke first.

“You’re back.” Her tone was calm, devoid of the excitement or joy of a reunion after two months.

The next moment, she got out of bed, picked up a jacket, and put it on. “Have you had dinner?”

Shen Nian’s rusted brain began to turn. “No…” she blurted out. She had completely forgotten about food, not even feeling hungry. Hearing Shen Zui mention it, she touched her stomach and realized it was indeed empty.

“I’ll go make you something.” Shen Zui moved to walk past her.

Shen Nian felt a bit awkward. “There’s no need.” She thought for a second. “Uhm… I’ll do it myself.”

Shen Zui looked back at her. Perhaps the ceiling light was too bright, blurring her vision, but Shen Nian couldn’t read her emotions. Soon, Shen Zui turned her head away and said noncommittally, “Then come with me.”

The two left the bedroom, crossed the living room, and went to the kitchen. Shen Zui leaned against the doorframe. “There are some wontons in the fridge, freshly made today. You can eat them after a quick boil.” She looked at Shen Nian. “Help yourself. If it’s not enough, there are noodles in the cabinet.”

Shen Nian stood by the fridge, her eyes fixed on Shen Zui. Seeing that she made no move to start, Shen Zui looked puzzled. “Is there a problem?”

“Ah, nothing.” Shen Nian snapped back to reality.

“You’re used to these kitchen tools,” Shen Zui said, pointing out the location of the seasonings. “…I haven’t changed the layout or decor here. Everything is in its original place; you should know it better than I do.”

“Mhm.” Shen Nian felt curious. “Did I used to do the cooking?”

Shen Zui paused. Shen Nian, confused, began to wonder if that question had broken some taboo. But soon, Shen Zui’s response answered her.

“This is the first time you’ve asked about the past.” Shen Zui lowered her eyes, not looking at her. Her mind seemed to drift far away. “Did you remember something?”

Shen Nian shook her head. Shen Zui gave a self-deprecating smile.

“It’s just…” Shen Nian felt she should say something. “The way you’re leaning against the door feels familiar. Like… like I’ve seen it before.” She felt the scene was a bit comical. “So I was wondering if you used to stand there often, waiting for dinner.”

Shen Zui gave a soft “Mhm,” but then shook her head.

Shen Nian didn’t understand. “Huh?”

“I didn’t wait here for the food.” Shen Zui stepped forward, closing the distance between them. The faint dark circles under her eyes made her look haggard but not disheveled; instead, they added a heart-wrenching, fragile beauty to her. When she spoke, she intentionally lowered her voice, giving Shen Nian the illusion that their relationship was intimate and close.

“I was waiting to see you.”

It wasn’t an illusion. Shen Nian’s back went rigid. They were like that—intimate and close.

Before she could feel uncomfortable, Shen Zui stepped back. “I’ll leave you to it.” She turned to go. “I’ll be in the living room; call me if you need anything.”

Shen Nian stood there blankly. “…Okay.”

Shen Zui left, but a faint scent of cold plum blossoms remained in the air. Shen Nian fanned the air with her hand; the scent dissipated a bit, but her body grew warm for no reason. It was the middle of winter, yet she suspected she was about to start sweating.

To distract herself, she opened the fridge and found the wontons. They were tiny; Shen Nian realized late that they were probably “children’s wontons” made by the nanny for Sunny. Once boiled, the portion looked even smaller. So, she added a bundle of noodles, turning it into a steaming bowl of wonton noodles.

When she was done, she took the bowl to the dining room. Through the rising steam, she saw Shen Zui sitting on the sofa holding Sunny. They were huddled together talking, the overhead light casting a halo around their silhouettes. It was soft and beautiful.

Hearing the noise from the dining room, they both turned to look. Shen Nian was awkwardly wondering whether to say hello and how to do it, when a second later, the mother and daughter withdrew their gazes in perfect unison.

Shen Nian quickly retracted the hand she had halfway raised. “…”

She began to regret coming back to suffer this ordeal. It seemed that whether the occupants of this house noticed her or ignored her, it could trigger a thousand different thoughts. She finished her meal without tasting much and retreated to the guest room to wash up. Before sleeping, she specifically set an alarm, intending to leave early the next morning.

When she woke up the next day and opened the door, she almost collided with Shen Zui outside.

“You…” Shen Nian was startled.

Shen Zui quickly composed her expression. “I’m heading to the company. I wanted to ask about your plans for today.”

Shen Nian smoothed her clothes. “…There’s some business at the office, so I’m going there. I’ll be even busier from now on, so I probably… probably won’t have time to come back.”

Shen Zui stood before her, her slender figure like a green bamboo under the moon. She gave a soft “Mhm” and stepped aside. “The nanny made breakfast; let’s eat together. I’ll drive you to Cheng Yue afterward.”

“Oh, no need,” Shen Nian said.

“Have you notified a driver to pick you up?” Shen Zui asked. “Or are you planning to drive your old car?”

Shen Nian: “…” She really had forgotten about that.

“You weren’t thinking of hailing a cab, were you?” Shen Zui saw through her confusion instantly. Shen Nian didn’t know what expression to make.

Shen Zui gave a light laugh. “It’s fine. I have to go to the Xinwu district today, and it’s on the way to Cheng Yue.” She led the way to the dining room. “Come eat breakfast. If we leave it any longer, it’ll get cold.”

Her tone was so natural—neither forcedly intimate nor overbearingly cold. It was exactly this kind of tone that was impossible to refuse. By the time Shen Nian realized it, she was already following obediently and sitting in the dining chair.

Shen Zui served her a bowl of porridge and set out a spoon and chopsticks.

“Thank you.” Shen Nian didn’t want the silence to continue. “Where’s Sunny?”

Shen Zui took a sip of soy milk. “She’s still sleeping.”

“Ah…”

“The nanny is looking after her.”

“Right, right.” Shen Nian lowered her head, her breathing very light. “I see you’re usually very busy with work. She’s mostly with the nanny, right?”

“Mhm.”

“So… does she have a good relationship with the nanny?”

Shen Zui: “…” She set down her cup. “You don’t have to force conversation.”

Shen Nian’s cheeks flushed. “Okay.”

They finished breakfast in silence, packed their things, and headed out. The enclosed space of the elevator provided an awkwardly intimate moment of solitude. Shen Zui was looking down at her phone while Shen Nian, bored, caught a glimpse of the other’s reflection in the mirrored wall.

Although her long trench coat obscured her figure, Shen Zui’s perfect proportions and posture were still striking. Looking at the other’s straight legs, Shen Nian unconsciously tightened her own slouch and stood tall. She was taller than Shen Zui; standing side-by-side, they were as beautiful as the leads in an idol drama.

Shen Nian was secretly admiring the view when Shen Zui finished replying to a text and looked up. Their eyes met in the mirror.

“Ha.” Shen Nian twitched her lips. “Are you wearing makeup?”

Shen Zui looked a bit confused but shook her head honestly.

“Oh,” Shen Nian said.

“What is it?” Shen Zui asked.

“Nothing.” A second later, Shen Nian looked away uncomfortably.

How can she be that beautiful without makeup? It’s criminal.