Psst! We're moving!
The next day, Xixi could barely tear her gaze away from the dense band-aids on Shen He’s right hand.
She said, “You know your body isn’t just your own, right?”
“Yes, yes.”
“You know you’re an important asset to the company, right?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Shen He! Try being perfunctory with me again!”
“Yes, yes.”
Xixi felt like a dean of students lecturing a middle schooler, on one hand furious, and on the other hand having to urge her assistant to contact the housecleaners to clear the wreckage at home.
Meanwhile, the aged problem student himself was leisurely, carelessly reading Gulliver’s Travels.
A moment later, Shen He spoke, “The matter you mentioned last time, I’ve talked to her about it.”
________________________________________
On the other side, Shen Zhi wasn’t doing much better.
Ding Yaocai tiptoed through the gaps in the broken glass. Shen Zhi was fast asleep, and her assistant had tried to wake her several times to no avail. Finally, her manager had to personally intervene, letting out a thunderous roar that shook the mountains, and incidentally snatching away the duvet from the bed.
Shen Zhi was forced back into the light of day, with faint marks still on her fair skin. She showed no shame, continuing to tilt her head, bleary-eyed, her long hair coiled like dark clouds behind her, and lazily said, “What’s wrong—”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong’?” Ding Yaocai never interfered with artists’ reasonable private lives—they were legally married, after all—however, she wouldn’t skip a single word of nagging, “Shen He went to his conducting class three hours ago. Why don’t you learn from him and be more diligent?”
She remained silent, as if still half-asleep.
After a while, Shen Zhi started getting dressed: “Not everyone is a Super Saiyan.”
Ding Yaocai’s heart was like stone: “And not everyone can be married to a Super Saiyan for so many years.”
Shen Zhi got out of bed, confirming with the house cleaning service on her phone, and put her hair up. As she was about to leave, she suddenly remembered something and said, “We probably won’t get divorced.”
________________________________________
Zhang Jiangnan’s birthday party was scheduled for the evening.
Although it was just a dinner with friends and beloved students, there were many people from the industry, so it was best not to be too casual.
Shen He picked up Shen Zhi. He wore a turtleneck sweater, she wore a scarf; both were covered where they needed to be.
“Did you bring the gift?” Shen He asked.
“Hmm,” Shen Zhi said, her eyes fixed on the mirror, “Do you think this lipstick color suits me?”
Shen He observed for a moment, then answered seriously and responsibly: “No.”
She showed no dissatisfaction, nor did she plan to change her makeup because of his evaluation, simply pretending not to hear.
He continued, however, “But you’re always beautiful.”
Shen Zhi turned her head, giving a somewhat smug smile, then heard Shen He mutter, “After all, she’s my wife—”
He really knows how to pat himself on the back.
Shen Zhi rolled her eyes.
But Shen He coolly reminded her, “Your eyelash extensions will fall out.”
Many of their seniors, juniors, and classmates from university came, and most of the others were familiar faces too.
After all, with sufficient popularity, plus the dramatic twist of rivals marrying, Shen He and Shen Zhi were teased by everyone as soon as they entered.
An older fellow student, whom they hadn’t seen in a long time, was particularly enthusiastic, putting his arms around both their shoulders, preventing them from leaving: “Honestly, when did you two actually get together?”
“Behind your backs,” Shen Zhi chuckled, the rim of her wine glass lightly touching her lips.
Another classmate chimed in playfully, “Shen He, you don’t even follow back on Weibo. What kind of big shot are you acting like?!”
Shen He feigned surrender: “I only follow Shen Zhi, alright? Even the company’s official Weibo account follows me one-way. Please bear with me.”
Someone else added fuel to the fire: “You’re getting old, you two should hurry up and get married.” Everyone burst into laughter, and the atmosphere heightened once more.
When Zhang Jiangnan came out, he saw this lively scene, like a mountain of flowers and fruit.
“Teacher!” “Teacher Zhang!”
Greetings rose and fell. Shen He raised his arm, giving a casual wave, then flipped over the sofa, rushing straight over amidst Zhang Jiangnan’s angry shouts of, “You little rascal, why are you still like this after all these years?”
“I was just eager to give you a gift, old Zhang,” he said.
Zhang Jiangnan, who had been huffing and puffing, saw the box of macarons that suited his taste, and his expression finally softened a bit.
Unfortunately, just as he was about to accept it, his wife arrived imposingly, taking the dessert with a grip on Shen He’s ear: “You know he shouldn’t eat too many sweets!”
________________________________________
Shen Zhi also joined in the laughter around them. When she turned back, she saw Sun Mengjia. Sun Mengjia crooked her finger, so Shen Zhi subtly turned, then moved closer through the crowd.
Shen Zhi wasn’t too familiar with Zhang Jiangnan, but she had taken dance lessons from Zhang Jiangnan’s wife.
It had been some time since their last meeting, and Shen Zhi didn’t usually keep in touch with Sun Mengjia, so she wasn’t sure about her recent situation.
“I heard you took on Qing Meng?” Sun Mengjia took a sip of lemonade.
Shen Zhi didn’t commit to an answer.
Sun Mengjia said, “Then why isn’t it officially announced yet? I’ve seen the stage play version, and I really liked it.”
Shen Zhi shrugged and softly replied, “We have to wait until the masters playing the ancestors are confirmed.”
Qing Meng tells many stories of clans, and many roles require experienced veteran actors.
Sun Mengjia nodded thoughtfully, and after a while, suddenly said out of nowhere, “Shen He, I didn’t expect him to be quite thoughtful.”
Shen Zhi was puzzled: “What?”
“That time we were shopping and he came to pick you up, one of those young girls was your CEO Hua’s niece.”
“Is that so?” Doubt turned to semi-belief. “How did I not know that?”
“Who knows why he hid it,” Sun Mengjia said. “Shen He doesn’t seem to understand social niceties much, but he was afraid your boss would give you a hard time, so he went and invited Hua Zichen to dinner. But, Qin Lingtian, how come she hasn’t come to cause trouble for you two yet? The sun must have risen from the west.”
Shen Zhi was startled.
This was a story she knew nothing about. Shen He and Hua Zichen became friends because of that “weirdo” incident.
He did it for her. While that sounded good, even Shen Zhi found it hard to deny. But her rationality was clear enough: Shen He was the one who offended him, so naturally, it was his responsibility. Preventing her from being implicated was only right; that’s just the nature of their relationship.
Shen Zhi’s eyelashes trembled slightly, and then a chorus of cheers erupted from behind her. Someone called her name. When she turned around, Shen Zhi put on a smile and accepted everyone’s attention.
Zhang Jiangnan waved for her to come over.
At this age, with students everywhere and such a reputation, Zhang Jiangnan was very happy today.
He had a few drinks, and being a light drinker, he was now pleasantly tipsy, smiling, much more amiable than usual: “Shen He, you come over too.”
Once Shen He and Shen Zhi both came over to toast, Zhang Jiangnan observed them for a long time, then let out a long sigh.
“Marrying this scoundrel,” his esteemed teacher spoke from the heart, “really does Shen Zhi a disservice.”
Everyone laughed and chatted happily.
Shen He was listening to a few colleagues discussing films.
Shen Zhi cautiously squeezed in, but said nothing, only smiling faintly, her gaze falling on Shen He. He briefly turned, saw her, said nothing, and subtly lowered his head.
“I’m going for a smoke,” he said.
________________________________________
As he brushed past Shen Zhi, Shen He paused and asked, “Got a lighter?”
Shen Zhi nodded, saying, “I have one in my bag.” Just like that, the two of them went out together.
The two walked empty-handed to an empty corridor corner. Shen He said, “Old Zhang wouldn’t take it, but the senior students plan to give it to his wife when they leave.”
As he spoke, he handed over the thick red envelope he had previously stuffed.
Shen Zhi took it, put it back in her coat pocket, then frowned and asked, “Shouldn’t we just skip these things? Just get a gift.”
“That’s what I thought too,” Shen He confessed.
After discussing the etiquette in private, the two started walking back. He unconsciously pulled her closer, and she unconsciously linked her fingers with his.
It was just a mistake.
Something akin to habit becoming second nature.
Or perhaps it was the atmosphere.
Actually, there was nothing to be embarrassed about.
Hugs, kisses, sex. Physical contact, eye contact. This couple had already done enough of all that. Logically, they had already reached a situation similar to the seven-year itch.
But by the time they came to their senses, they were already firmly holding each other’s hands.
The heating indoors was on full blast, making both their cheeks flush. Shen He frowned, his face etched with seriousness; Shen Zhi’s eyes didn’t blink, feigning calmness.
Everyone inside the room was making noise; they stood outside the door. For no reason, Shen He spoke, “Do you like me?”
Back then, when they were young, they had nothing but their performances, so they had the confidence to discuss whether they liked each other. Now that they were married, having lived together for so many years, bringing up the past felt strange and difficult.
“No,” she replied, “then do you like me?”
Shen He said, “Me neither.”
She continued: “From a career perspective, our image is already established, and changes would be a hassle. From an emotional perspective, I don’t have anyone I like, and neither do you, right?
“Do you think we need to get a divorce?”
Shen He looked at her, about to answer, but was interrupted by a clamor.
Their intertwined hands separated.
Someone exclaimed, surprised and delighted, “Guess who’s here?”
Stepping inside, the moment she saw Zhang Qingyue, Shen Zhi thought of many things.
Turning back, Shen He was also looking.
Zhang Qingyue met his gaze. Perhaps, perhaps, some things had never disappeared since before.
Looking away again, Shen Zhi no longer thought of anything.