Transmigrated as the Future Movie Queen's Arch-Nemesis - Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The trust in Xin Keke’s eyes was so intense that for a moment, Su Mi even forgot how to speak. She rarely received such overt displays of emotion from Xin Keke—aside from rejection, of course. Direct support like this felt like a first in her memory.

Su Mi’s lips trembled slightly. After a long pause, she suddenly asked, “Does this mean you believe in me?”

Xin Keke realized with a jolt that she had been a bit out of character, but since the words were already out and Su Mi had heard them, she couldn’t take them back. She could only nod, her gaze drifting uncomfortably to the side: “…Yes.”

Su Mi leaned in slightly and took Xin Keke’s hand, which was resting at her side. Her own palm was a little damp from the sweat of nervousness.

“I understand,” Su Mi said. “I’ll work hard in the next take. I won’t hold everyone back anymore.”

Only then did Xin Keke’s wandering gaze return to Su Mi. Because of the shoot, Su Mi was wearing a wig. Her usual aggressive pink hair was gone, replaced by an everyday brown, and the smooth, long locks made Su Mi look even more gentle and reserved. No one heard it, but Xin Keke’s heart skipped a heavy beat. She looked into Su Mi’s eyes and let out a soft, muffled sound: “Mn.”

In location shooting, nothing is more taboo than dragging out the schedule. Time waits for no one; after about fifteen minutes of rest, the crew received word from Director Song to return and resume filming. Perhaps out of consideration for the original owner’s grandmother, Director Song didn’t say much to Su Mi, only reminding her of a few points to watch for in her performance before retreating behind the director’s monitor to keep a close eye on the framing.

Su Mi tightened her grip on the bottled drink she was holding—this, too, was the director’s requirement. Su Mi suspected Director Song probably felt that if she couldn’t act well, they might as well get some product placement in. She glanced toward Xin Keke, who was sitting on a bench not far away.

This was likely her only chance. Whether it was the director or the other staff, they couldn’t afford to waste precious time on a minor supporting character, even if she was President Huo’s granddaughter. As for Su Mi, she didn’t want to be judged through biased lenses, either; after all, in her heart, she never considered the original owner’s family as her own. Nothing here belonged to her, and how could she occupy it all with an easy conscience?

Director Song raised his hand, and the script supervisor prepared the clapperboard. Su Mi took a deep breath.

“Action!”

She snapped her eyes open.

“Why are you so dispirited?”

In the park, Bo Xiaoling jogged up to the bench, tilting her head to look at Yuan Yuan helplessly. The weather today was wonderful, yet Yuan Yuan looked like a wilted plant; even under the baking sun, she radiated an aura of pure despair. It was incredibly abnormal.

Yuan Yuan didn’t respond, as if she hadn’t heard Bo Xiaoling at all.

Bo Xiaoling sighed, circled behind Yuan Yuan, and quietly pressed the bottle in her hand against Yuan Yuan’s cheek.

“Ah!”

As expected, Yuan Yuan shrieked, startled by the sudden cold, and nearly swatted Bo Xiaoling away. The girl behind her giggled and hurried around to sit beside Yuan Yuan: “Alright, alright, stop moping. How about drinking something sweet?”

“Mm…”

Yuan Yuan was deep in thought. Even when she took the drink from Bo Xiaoling, she just gripped it in her hand without rushing to open it.

Bo Xiaoling sat closer: “Aren’t you going to taste it? It’s the newest flavor.”

Two seconds later, Yuan Yuan finally reacted. Her gaze shifted downward to the drink in her hand for a moment before she turned back to give Bo Xiaoling a strained, bitter smile: “I can’t drink anything right now.”

“…”

Bo Xiaoling said nothing, simply studying Yuan Yuan’s face. Feeling the weight of such a direct gaze, Yuan Yuan felt uncomfortable and quickly looked away.

Then, she heard Bo Xiaoling’s voice: “So, how long do you plan to keep this up?”

Yuan Yuan’s fingers tightened around the plastic bottle.

“I… I’m not.” Even as the words tumbled out with difficulty, Yuan Yuan maintained her peacock-like pride. “I’m just exhausted from work lately. I’m not in a good state.”

Bo Xiaoling laughed, amused by her: “Who are you lying to? We’ve been friends for over a decade; do you really think I don’t know how you are?”

She shifted her seat closer to Yuan Yuan.

“Since we were kids, you’ve been better than me at everything, more insightful than me. How did you stumble over a man?” Bo Xiaoling’s voice grew more agitated as she spoke. “It’s hard to find a three-legged toad, but isn’t it easy to find a two-legged man? He lied to you because he’s scum with no moral compass. Why punish your own emotions because of a piece of scum?”

Crunch.

A sound came from Yuan Yuan’s hand. She squeezed the plastic bottle so hard it emitted a brittle, pained noise. After a long while, Yuan Yuan finally let out a long, heavy breath. Bo Xiaoling felt as if she had exhaled every ounce of strength from her lungs.

“…Don’t mention him again,” Yuan Yuan said. “He’s not worth it.”

Bo Xiaoling stared at Yuan Yuan’s face. Yuan Yuan wasn’t looking at her, just staring straight ahead into the park. Suddenly, Bo Xiaoling smiled and waved her fingers in front of Yuan Yuan.

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be in this state right now,” she said softly.

“Not every problem can be forgotten just by throwing it to the back of your mind; that’s just self-deception. The more you suppress it, the deeper the wound becomes. In the countless nights to come, Wei Minghui will haunt you anywhere and at any time.”

Bo Xiaoling’s words were like a bomb dropped into Yuan Yuan’s mind, flattening everything with a roar. Naturally, that included Yuan Yuan’s rationality.

Yuan Yuan snapped her head around. She couldn’t control it; her eyes were rimmed with red. “So what? What do you want me to do? Move out of the dorm, or grab Wei Minghui by the collar in front of everyone and demand to know why he broke his promise, why he betrayed me?”

She had always been cool and composed, but in this moment, Yuan Yuan could no longer control her suppressed emotions. The girl forced her lips into a smile, trying her best, but the reddened nose and corners of her eyes had long since betrayed her true feelings.

“I can’t… in front of everyone, I am always the perfect Yuan Yuan. I can’t let anyone see me lose my composure. My family has taught me this since I was little—they won’t allow me to be a weakling, and tears are for the weak… Xiao Ling, do you understand?”

By the end, Yuan Yuan’s stuttering voice was thick with nasal congestion.

Throughout this, Bo Xiaoling had been very quiet, her eyes fixed on Yuan Yuan’s face. As Yuan Yuan’s pain poured out, Bo Xiaoling’s gaze deepened. The moment Yuan Yuan’s tears finally broke free, Bo Xiaoling reached out and stroked Yuan Yuan’s cheek: “Does ‘everyone’ include me?”

Yuan Yuan’s lips trembled; she looked at Bo Xiaoling through a blurred, tear-filled world. She shook her head.

Bo Xiaoling suddenly laughed with relief and leaned forward, pulling Yuan Yuan into her embrace. “You, you’ve been like this since we were kids, wanting to shoulder everything alone.”

The sunlight was warm, bathing the two of them. Bo Xiaoling’s palm swept through Yuan Yuan’s long black hair, speaking softly as if comforting a child: “But people aren’t made of steel. No matter how strong the heart, there will come a day when it can no longer bear it.”

“What’s there to be ashamed of? You gave him the purest love you had, but he didn’t cherish it. In this relationship, the one who should feel ashamed is Wei Minghui.”

She naturally picked up a lock of hair from behind Yuan Yuan’s head and, while she spoke, began to braid it.

“Sometimes, don’t think so much; just follow your heart. Like right now—if you want to cry, you can find me anytime. Whether you’re happy or sad, you need to vent. Only by letting these emotions out can you move on to the next stop of your journey with a lighter heart.”

Bo Xiaoling closed her eyes, resting her cheek against Yuan Yuan’s hair. Under the sunlight, her expression was peaceful and happy.

“I hope you can always be happy.”

“After all, Yuan Yuan is Bo Xiaoling’s best, best friend.”

“Cut!”

Hearing that familiar sound, Su Mi snapped her eyes open. Out of memory, she assumed she had messed up and would have to redo the take, but the moment she opened her eyes, she saw the staff approaching from afar, all wearing joyful expressions.

Xin Keke slowly retreated from Su Mi’s embrace. Her eyes were red, and her eyelashes were wet with tears she hadn’t had time to wipe away. Su Mi looked at her—my goodness, she truly looked beautiful and pitiable.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

In her haste, she tried to wipe Xin Keke’s tears with the back of her hand. Xin Keke shook her head, grabbing Su Mi’s sleeve and laughing through her tears: “Congratulations, it was a one-take.”

Su Mi clearly hadn’t processed it yet: “Huh?”

She looked toward Director Song. Just then, he stood up from behind the monitor, spotted Su Mi’s face, and gave her an “OK” gesture: “Keep that state from the last take!”

Only after hearing the director’s affirmation with her own ears did the feeling of “passing” finally settle in. The staff had already started packing up to return to the film studio for the next shoot. Su Mi blinked: “I… I passed?”

“Of course! You haven’t had enough—hey!”

Before she could finish, Xin Keke was pulled into Su Mi’s arms.

“I passed!!”

For others, this might be routine, but this was Su Mi’s first time filming—a scene she had finally gotten right after six NGs. A wave of immense joy crashed over her. She hugged Xin Keke tightly: “I passed, I really passed!! Xin Keke, I think I’m amazing!!”

She was so happy she forgot their “Three-Point Covenant,” forgot everything Xin Keke had demanded. Between heaven and earth, nothing remained but pure joy and the person in front of her.

This time, there was no push away, no denial.

There was only Xin Keke’s voice, whispered into Su Mi’s ear—soft, yet incredibly clear: “Mn, you really are amazing.”

“Alright, hurry up and pack your things; we need to get back.” After they hugged for a moment, Xin Keke patted Su Mi’s back, signaling her to let go.

Su Mi released her, beaming. But the moment she separated from Xin Keke, she saw someone wearing sunglasses standing behind the staff. And just then, that person was looking in their direction.

Su Mi’s hand, which had been gripping Xin Keke’s arm, tightened subconsciously.

Shi Yaya.

Why is she here? She wasn’t even scheduled for location shooting today. What is she trying to do?

Even behind the sunglasses, it was obvious that Shi Yaya’s gaze was fixed on the two of them. Seeing them pull apart, Shi Yaya walked over quickly. She glanced at Xin Keke first, then looked at Su Mi with no mercy: “Do you have time now? I have something to tell you.”

The tone was not a request.