Psst! We're moving!
Thanks to the uninvited guest, Shen He’s piano lesson ended early. As he got into his agent’s car, he acted petty, complaining incessantly as if no one else was around. Xixi was long used to this, having already seen the true colors of her artists. She just kept laughing, amused by his sharp and intense words.
“It’s not me saying this, but aren’t other people’s time not time? Knowing someone’s married and still trying to get close? If I were her dad, I’d break her legs.”
As he spoke, Shen He expressionlessly refreshed his phone.
Why does he have to take on the role of her father? Is he even old enough for that generation?
Xixi cleared her throat and said, “You can’t offend people like that too much; you need to be aware of that.”
Shen He gave an noncommittal reply, slightly raising an eyebrow.
She confirmed through the rearview mirror that he had heard her.
Shen He was quite adept at balancing interests. Although he occasionally lost his composure due to momentary happiness or anger, he was still able to turn things around. Overall, Xixi judged that there was no need to worry too much for now.
“Or we can let the company handle it; we’ve paid so much protection money anyway,” Xixi said to herself.
But then she heard Shen He scoff.
“No need for that,” he said in a relaxed tone.
Back home, the room was already empty.
He felt it was perfectly normal.
Shen He and Shen Zhi were both very busy people. This was definitely not a bad thing; work brought income. Being busy meant not being outdated, being recognized by others, which was everything for an actor.
There were only a few days left until their wedding anniversary.
The scene of them rushing to get their marriage certificate at the civil affairs bureau was still vivid, and in the blink of an eye, so many years had passed. Everyone else was sweet and affectionate, or at the very least brimming with bashful tenderness, but only these two maintained a respectful distance, too polite and somewhat wary of each other, perfectly fitting the standard of a married couple.
The wait was too dull and boring, so Shen He proactively broke the silence. With no preamble or follow-up, he stated a number.
Shen Zhi didn’t understand, asking with her eyes.
“My annual income,” Shen He replied succinctly.
So, Shen Zhi thoughtfully pondered for a moment. After a while, she also stated a number, along with a new request: “Can I go eat Crossing the Bridge Noodles later?”
Then, Shen He said, “Yes, you can.”
He also said, “Then I’ll go eat sukiyaki. Let’s meet later.”
Shen Zhi nodded in satisfaction.
On the day they received their marriage certificate, they didn’t have dinner together.
But Shen Zhi still remembered that the rice noodles that day were exceptionally delicious.
Ignoring the surrounding gazes, Shen Zhi sat sideways in her chair, wearing a sleeveless top and linen trousers, silently reading her script.
At the promised script reading session, several main actors with both talent and reputation had arrived, but a female college student playing a sister was nowhere to be seen. The director was furious, and no one dared to step up and try to appease him.
The atmosphere became awkward, everyone was at a loss, and the conference room fell silent. In this stillness, the sound of turning pages became exceptionally clear.
Unconsciously, all eyes converged on the source.
Shen Zhi was completely oblivious, continuing to bury her head in the script.
Until even the hot-tempered director looked over, everyone’s hearts were suspended at their peak, as if a volcano would erupt at any second.
However, in a flash, the director, who had just been like a T-Rex, made a complete 180-degree turn in attitude and let out a heavy sigh.
“Indeed, saying all this now is useless,” he said. “Then let’s proceed.”
Even though the room remained silent, that silence was the Cambridge of this evening; those watching the scenery were watching the spectacle on the Cambridge. Some also secretly sighed, As expected of Shen Zhi.
This role required bangs.
Originally, they planned to use clip-in bangs, but the assistant was concerned about skin allergies, so she made plans in advance for Shen Zhi to grow out her hair a bit. It was just right for the makeup trial, and the director was also satisfied, so it was decided.
The first day was to shoot a relatively later part of the story.
While Shen Zhi was combing her hair in the RV, it was a bit noisy outside. She only glanced over when the stylist straightened up and explained, “It seems Cheng Ruiyi arrived, and those young girls are so excited.”
The assistant walked by, handing over warm water, and reminded her with little interest, “Only forty minutes left—”
“Cheng Ruiyi?” Shen Zhi had just applied lip primer, and raising her eyes, her face looked a bit listless. “Sounds familiar, who is that?”
“Sister, don’t you know?” another person said. “He was one of the top ten from a very popular talent show two years ago. He has a lot of fans and is now developing in film and television.”
“Anyway, he’s just riding the wave of popularity, someone used to broaden the audience base,” the assistant interjected, with a hint of disdain in her tone.
The stylist smiled wryly: “It can boost ratings, you know.”
The assistant said, “For ratings, aren’t we enough?”
The assistant position was strictly internal recruitment. Since her debut, Shen Zhi had changed several. After so many selections, the remaining ones were inevitably a bit too unyielding.
But what she said wasn’t false either.
Over the years, Shen Zhi had been steady and diligent, never actively getting involved in disputes, handling crises promptly and effectively, and every work she appeared in was a masterpiece. From supporting roles to leads, from single local daytime slots to prime time on major satellite TV channels, she steadily built her career. Now, her name alone is a brand, a ratings guarantee capable of carrying a show on her own.
Shen Zhi thanked the staff and left with her assistant, one after the other, finally alone together.
She said, “What’s wrong with you?”
The assistant folded her coat as they walked, not saying a word.
“Tell me, Xiao Qiu,” Shen Zhi stopped.
No matter how unhappy she was inside, she couldn’t resist Shen Zhi’s persuasion. When she wanted someone to open up, she could do it however she pleased.
The assistant reluctantly folded her arms and said sullenly, “Sister, you probably didn’t pay attention, and you won’t care. He complained a lot about the company when he was on that show before.”
It took Shen Zhi a good while to realize what she was referring to.
During the talent show, Cheng Ruiyi’s current company had tried to garner sympathy for him, intentionally or unintentionally implicating Cheng Ruiyi’s former agency. And this company happened to belong to Liangyi.
For celebrities in the 21st century, the most effective weapon is undoubtedly their fans. They are organized and disciplined like locusts, criticizing normal contract expirations within the industry as “persecuting our idol,” thereby attacking numerous official company Weibo accounts and artists associated with that company.
Shen Zhi was one of them.
“It didn’t really affect me much at the time,” Shen Zhi said reassuringly with good reason. “As a celebrity, it’s not strange to be criticized for no reason for days on end, that Cheng…”
She couldn’t remember his name again.
“Cheng Ruiyi,” the assistant reminded her.
“Right, Cheng Ruiyi will be working with us for a while. Since we haven’t fallen out, let’s just get along,” she said.
Her assistant wasn’t stupid; she was probably just a bit oversensitive from not being on a set for a while and now joining the crew. This kind of education should have come from the manager, but unfortunately, Ding Yaocai had been too busy to be seen lately, and Shen Zhi couldn’t just stand by.
Fortunately, the assistant quickly understood.
The young woman breathed a sigh of relief, genuinely saying, “You’re right. And that Cheng Ruiyi is nowhere near as handsome as Brother Shen.”
Shen Zhi walked forward, her skirt gently swaying.
She replied casually, “Of course.”
The assistant, named Xiao Qiu, was instantly stunned, her eyes wide, standing rooted to the spot for a long time, almost thinking she had misheard.
Shen Zhi, however, thought, Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been tricked into marrying him so quickly.
________________________________________
The weather was very cold, and Shen Zhi was thinly dressed, listening to the director explain the scene with her coat draped over her. The staff were training horses, leading them around, which looked very interesting. Whenever she had a spare moment, she would stare intently at them, even being teased by the art director for being unworldly.
Because the preparations were very thorough, she quickly got into character, and this also motivated the other actors in the same scene, so everyone moved very quickly.
“Shen Zhi always puts people at ease,” even the director said with a pleasant expression.
During lunch, the director specifically called Shen Zhi over.
“You’ve worked with my master so many times, and this time you’re even giving me face by acting in my play, so I won’t hide anything from you,” the director began mysteriously, “Let me tell you something.”
“Go on,” Shen Zhi said, drinking water through a straw to avoid smudging her lipstick.
Sooner or later, it would be said. It was one cut whether moving forward or backward.
The director said, “In a couple of days, those young actors will join the crew.”
“Hmm,” Shen Zhi said, unconcerned.
“It might be a bit challenging,” the director deliberated his words, “I apologize in advance. I’ll have to trouble you.”
Shen Zhi thought to herself that whether it was troublesome or not made no difference to her, but she still just smiled and gave a perfunctory reply. She wasn’t a superhero, just an ordinary actress. But the difficulties of the director and other crew members were also self-evident, and everyone could only empathize with each other.
After work, she went back to rest. Shen Zhi lay down on the bed, wearing a face mask, and idly flipped open the online novel Shen He had shared with her earlier that day.
Reading the title Rebirth of the Film Empress Wife is a Tsundere again, she still couldn’t help but sneer twice.
She really didn’t know what was going on in Shen He’s head all day.
She began to read the first few chapters.
At first, she was calm, but as the plot deepened, her brow furrowed more and more.
When she read about the male lead being meek and timid, Shen Zhi was unperturbed; when she read about the female lead cursing and facing setbacks everywhere, Shen Zhi observed impassively; finally, when she read about the female lead falling into the desperate situation of being blacklisted by the entire internet, and the male lead, abandoning his former useless demeanor, made a dazzling appearance, being bowed to by over five hundred people calling him “Young Master,” she was shocked.
It turned out that the male lead was actually the world’s richest man, a low-key and luxurious group CEO, who had to pretend to be weak next to the female lead for some unspeakable reasons—
Lowering her phone, an unmistakable look of suspicion appeared on Shen Zhi’s calm face.
What in the world is this?
________________________________________
Facing Shen He, Shen Zhi wasn’t used to holding back. She immediately sent him a WeChat message: “You’re crazy!”
And Shen He, who had only finished work at five in the morning, saw it. He didn’t even have the energy to wonder, simply replying “Sixth wedding anniversary” as a reminder.
Actually, Shen Zhi had already been considering this matter.
Then again, she couldn’t possibly forget.
Ding Yaocai didn’t consult her much, after all, accepting and completing tasks was an agent’s specialty. She sent a photo taken previously. In the photo, Shen He and Shen Zhi were dressed casually and informally, smiling and leaning together, looking like an ordinary couple that could appear in any daily life setting.
“For the caption, just write, ‘Thank you for being willing to live life with me.’ Shen He’s line really moved me,” Ding Yaocai said.
Unlike Shen He’s agent, Xixi, Ding Yaocai was a woman who dedicated her life to her work. Forget about a husband, she hadn’t even been seen dating many times; she was always studying whenever she had free time, an utterly undeniable strong woman.
Sometimes when Shen Zhi tried to advise her, she would always wave her hand: “Just dealing with you two getting married is enough to annoy me.”
Shen Zhi countered, “Then don’t I still need to get his authorization?”
“Not necessarily,” Ding Yaocai smiled, “You two are already an old married couple.”
“Even Fitzgerald, unauthorized quoting of Zelda’s letters and diaries, isn’t exactly a glorious thing,” Shen Zhi said casually. She looked back and saw that the call had already ended.
Compared to previous years, this one was indeed a bit too simple.
Ultimately, Shen Zhi decided to edit a more subtle caption, hoping it would further disperse fans’ attention and prevent them from focusing too much on them.
The post was scheduled for release, a photo full of family warmth accompanied by the caption, “Do you have a memory you want to cherish for a lifetime?”
Forwards, comments, and likes poured in like a flood.
Some praised their good relationship, some questioned it, and some shared their own precious memories.
Shen Zhi exited.
Regarding the attention from strangers, she had once felt surprise, then fear, and finally a sense of calm.
It had become second nature.
Minimum marketing was essential, but even without it, they would still be noticed. In a positive light.
Not everyone can live a peaceful and ideal life, so people like to see their peaceful and ideal life.
Even if it was just acting.
When she clicked again, Shen Zhi prepared to embrace a world of intense scrutiny.
However, something irresistible stole her gaze more than anything else.
Shen He updated a post.
At the beginning of their seventh year of marriage, Shen Zhi said, Do you have a memory you want to cherish for a lifetime?
Shen He shared an image.
He was leaning on a wheelbarrow, standing beneath a sculpture on the university campus. Only Shen He was in the photo, but Shen Zhi knew it wasn’t just him.
The accompanying text was “The day I met you.”
That was the photo she took of him during his performing arts entrance exam.
That day, many years ago, she secretly vowed never to be involved with him. Today, many years later, Shen Zhi gazed at that photo for a long time, wavering and restless, unable even to confirm if her feelings at this moment were merely acting.