Chapter 15

In the end, Wen Jiu still walked away with the film emperor’s autograph.
Given the timing of his retirement, this might very well be the last signed photo he ever gave a fan. And he’d even provided the photo himself.
Unfortunately, she was a fake fan with nothing in common with the words “true stan.”
While other people would treat such a thing like a priceless treasure, she was already calculating how much she could sell it for.
The very next day, Ji Yanting’s studio officially announced that he was leaving the industry to return home and inherit the family business. The comments section below the announcement was full of wailing.
Quietly, Wen Jiu logged into a certain seafood-themed secondhand platform and listed the signed photo for auction.
Casual passersby couldn’t tell if the signature was real, but the film emperor’s fans could. Now that he’d left the industry, real autographs were priceless, especially one taken from a candid daily-life shot rather than a stylized promo; that only made it rarer.
Fans swarmed the listing; the comments tower under her auction climbed higher and higher.
You really couldn’t underestimate fandom power, especially the core battle unit: big fans.
She watched, wide-eyed, as the price on that single signed photo climbed from 10,000 to 300,000… and was still going up.
She let out a small yelp. This was the first time she truly grasped the terrifying strength of fan culture.
With twenty-three hours still on the countdown clock, she decided to check back tomorrow.
Today was Sunday; she shouldn’t have had to work. But Assistant Li still managed to drag her out.
All because of last night’s drugged wine.
As the so-called “life assistant,” she’d actually handed her boss a spiked drink. That was, strictly speaking, a dereliction of duty.
Sitting in Assistant Li’s car, Wen Jiu was as silent as a quail, not daring to make a sound, worried they’d dock her pay.
From the rearview mirror, Assistant Li kept sneaking glances at her.
He really wanted to tell her: You’re practically the future Mrs. President’s person. Last night’s mix-up accidentally helped things along; no one’s going to punish you for it.
Besides, right now only the two of them in the president’s office knew what had actually happened; neither of them would be blabbing.
But seeing how nervous she was was… weirdly entertaining, so he “kindly” chose not to reassure her.
Back at the Ji house, Ji Yanting produced a file of compensation terms.
Under normal circumstances, it should have been Ji Yanting calling personally at the Chu residence. But since Chu Yan had been detained by Young Lady and couldn’t host anyone, the two assistants were sent to handle it instead.
To Wen Jiu’s half-baked legal brain, that dense block of text on the contract might as well have been crawling ants. Her left eye swept one line; her right eye immediately fled the scene.
Professional matters belonged in professional hands. She left it to Assistant Li to handle.
Meanwhile she fidgeted, eyes drifting around the room as if ants were crawling up her spine. She simply couldn’t sit still.
“Miss Wen, would you like to take a walk in the garden?” Ji Yanting was a naturally gentle, good-tempered man. Having noticed her gaze drifting toward the window, where a sea of brilliant blossoms spread below, he offered proactively.
“Yes, yes, I’d love to.” The chair might as well have grown teeth; Wen Jiu shot to her feet and “scooted” right out the door.
Assistant Li kept reading, not even lifting his head.
Beicheng had plenty of rich families, but only a handful qualified as true top-tier clans. The Chu, Qin, and Ji families were three of them.
In the book, Ji Yanting’s white moonlight Yue Ling belonged to Beicheng’s Yue family, a century-old scholarly clan steeped in politics since the Ming dynasty, dripping with rare antiques at home.
Later, when Yue Ling went off the rails, she was still able to retreat completely from the entertainment industry unscathed; every bit of news about her was quietly wiped.
Wen Jiu wandered, stopping and starting, and suddenly remembered: past this garden lay the Yue estate.
Although the villainess wasn’t here, she was still very curious about Miss Yue Ling’s home.
It sounded like “next door,” but actually required a fifteen-minute golf cart ride.
Wen Jiu had not expected the distance to be so ridiculous. By the time she got there, her legs were trembling.
Beyond the garden stretched the paved roads of the villa district. She hopped onto a sightseeing cart just in time to run into the girl she’d bumped into the night before, the book’s heroine.
The cart was parked by the Ji family’s back gate. The girl was just getting off as Wen Jiu stepped on. Their eyes met; they were strangers, but Wen Jiu couldn’t shake the feeling there was something odd in the girl’s gaze, as if she knew her.
Wen Ling hurried off, and Wen Jiu signaled the young driver not to start the cart just yet. A few minutes later, she slipped off and followed.
Why was the heroine appearing in the Ji family’s villa district? Hadn’t she failed to “pick up” the male lead last night? Did that mean Wen Ling and Ji Yanting had known each other long before?
Before she’d transmigrated, she might not have insisted on chasing this melon. Her survival motto had always been: the less you know, the longer you live. She’d planned to get through life quietly and safely that way.
But knowing less hadn’t exactly prolonged her life; she’d died and popped into a book anyway. Since she was here now, might as well live happily. What was the point of being cautious?
She had to eat this melon.
Wen Jiu tiptoed after her.
Miss had asked her to tail Chu Yan and she’d failed. Yet over in this second book, she’d somehow managed to keep both the male and female leads under surveillance.
If she didn’t follow this trail to the end, she’d feel cheated.
Judging by Wen Ling’s steps, this wasn’t her first time at the Ji estate. She even knew how to sneak in from the back without alerting the guards or any servants.
But the way she moved, half-sneaky, half unsure, walking as if in a dream, made it look like this was her first time learning the layout.
Too weird. Wen Jiu pressed herself against a thick pillar, continuing to observe.
“What a coincidence, we meet again. What are you doing?” came a familiar voice from behind the pillar.
Along with Wen Jiu, there was now a second person hiding there: last night’s Shen Xingzhou.
His sudden comment scared her half to death; she jumped, then slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Shh.” Keep your voice down, don’t spook the target.
“Oh, oh.” Shen Xingzhou caught on immediately, dropping his volume. To make sure she could still hear, he leaned closer, breath warm by her ear, tickling her so much she nearly fluffed up like an angry cat.
She hopped away on reflex, the movement just big enough to attract Wen Ling’s attention.
Seeing the heroine pause and start to turn around, Wen Jiu scrambled back behind the pillar, straight into Shen Xingzhou’s arms.
“Why are you hiding from her?” he asked.
Children aren’t allowed to ask so many questions.
Wen Jiu clamped a hand around his wrist and shoved him back against the pillar, fingers pinching his cheeks shut so he couldn’t speak.
Shen Xingzhou’s deep chestnut hair ruffled softly in the breeze, his loose curls swaying with every breath. With his thin, flushed lips squeezed together, his already striking features looked even more dazzling. His wide, guileless eyes were round and bright like a puppy’s; with half his face covered, that innocent, curious stare aimed at Wen Jiu looked downright pitiful.
Dropping her voice to a fierce whisper, Wen Jiu said, “No talking, or I’ll ‘deal’ with you.”
The sea of flowers nearby ringed them in, fragrance drifting over on the wind. It should have been a romantically charged scene, but Wen Jiu, who had zero sense of atmosphere, yanked it completely off track.
Shen Xingzhou blinked and nodded obediently to show he understood.
To cooperate, he straightened his back, posture oddly stiff, muscles tensing until his abs and chest stood out in clear relief under his shirt.
Pressed so close, Wen Jiu’s arm brushed a solid, warm wall of muscle. She glanced him up and down.
The “kid” had abs and… chest muscles?
Do not touch. Do not touch.
She tugged his white dress shirt down a bit, covering him more tightly.
Having grown up overseas, Shen Xingzhou vaguely felt that even a local girl shouldn’t react like this.
Nothing had actually happened between them, they’d barely even touched, but his ears still flushed bright red at a ridiculous speed, hotter than he’d ever felt watching far spicier scenes abroad.
Seeing Wen Ling about to disappear around the corner, Wen Jiu let go of Shen Xingzhou and hurried after her.
Shen Xingzhou stayed where he was, the once-crisp white shirt on his back now wrinkled and rumpled, as if he’d been thoroughly manhandled.
The redness at the tips of his ears had crept all the way down his neck. Behind him, the sea of flowers was in full bloom. The boy standing there, framed by waves of bright blossoms, looked like he’d stepped right out of a painting, brilliant colors, clean lines, a little unreal.
Pity Wen Jiu never turned back, completely unaware.
Since transmigrating, the only Beicheng mansions she’d set foot in were the Qin estate and the Ji estate; she hadn’t so much as crossed the threshold of President Chu’s home.
Rich people’s houses were huge. Wen Jiu still wasn’t used to it. After wandering around the Ji family grounds a few times, she successfully got herself lost. Never mind losing track of heroine Wen Ling, at this point she didn’t even know where she was.
After circling several more times, she finally ran into Wen Ling again.
The stand-in heroine of “The Film Emperor’s White Moonlight Stand-In” looked nothing like the confident girl who’d hopped off the cart earlier. Now she seemed disheveled, shaken, and hollow-eyed with disbelief.
She hadn’t noticed that Wen Jiu was behind her, leaning against a veranda corner, muttering to herself:
“It shouldn’t be like this. How could my male god treat me like a maid and look at me like I’m a stranger? Isn’t he supposed to fall for me at first sight?”
“Nothing is like it was in my dream. He was supposed to go home with me last night, give me a black card today, and send me an endless stream of top-tier resources.”
Wen Ling had had a dream.
In that dream, she picked up her male god, the film emperor, took him home for a one-night stand, and from then on held resources in the palm of her hand, rising step by step. Even if she started out as Yue Ling’s stand-in, with time her male god would realize she was his true love and break with Yue Ling for her.
Even his younger brother, that high-spirited youth, would, after targeting her a few times, end up falling for her too. He would abandon Yue Ling’s camp, stand firmly at Wen Ling’s side, clear all the obstacles in the industry for her, and become her most loyal little lapdog.
But somehow, all the men and all the resources that were right at her fingertips in the dream had slipped away in reality. Not only had the male god vanished, even the future lapdog little brother had failed to show up.
With her nerves wound tight for so long, Wen Ling had drifted into a daze and let the truth slip from her lips without realizing it. When she came back to herself, she slapped a hand over her mouth and bolted toward the back gate from her dream.
Maybe once Yue Ling appeared, her road to film-queen glory would finally get back on track.
Even without her male god, she could still have her career. Once Yue Ling came back, she’d just step on her, like in the dream, and claw her way to the top.
Only when Wen Ling was nothing but a speck in the distance did Wen Jiu step out from the corner, face twisted in a complicated expression. After a moment, she exhaled and let it go.
She had transmigrated, and into two books at that. Compared to that, a heroine who hadn’t transmigrated or been reborn, just dreamed the plot in advance, wasn’t really all that shocking.
Judging from Ji Yanting’s attitude though, he clearly had no idea about any “dream plot.” He hadn’t taken Wen Ling home, and had literally mistaken her for a maid.
“Ding ding ding”
It was a message. From the Young Lady.
Qin Yao: Wen Jiu, Big Sister Yue Ling is coming back to the country. Let’s go pick her up at the airport together.
Qin Yao: Today Chu Yan’s parents and my parents met. We’re getting our marriage certificate tomorrow. We’ll probably hold the wedding soon.
Qin Yao: Bask in my good luck, big red envelope: 1,000,000 yuan.
Qin Yao: You helped me catch Chu Yan, I’m super happy. You’re basically our matchmaker, this red envelope you have to accept!
Wen Jiu squinted like a nearsighted grandma with a thousand-degree prescription, bringing the phone right up to her nose. The glow from the super-bright screen lit up her face, and her eyes practically reflected light.
Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten-thousands, hundred-thousands, million,
One… million…
Back in Nan City, the most she’d ever heard of a matchmaker getting was a pig’s trotter and a red envelope with a thousand yuan. She had never heard of a million-yuan matchmaker bonus.
Wen Jiu was deeply, profoundly shook.
Clearly, she still didn’t fully understand Young Lady. Every time, she thought she had a handle on her, and every time, the new surprise hit like a freight train.
Male lead, vicious supporting role? Nonsense. The two of them were clearly made for each other. Helping Chu Yan and Young Lady get together was simply what she ought to do.
Qin Yao: Since I already have Chu Yan by my side, this time I’ll let you go take care of Big Sister Yue Ling. Once you’re done repaying that favor, you have to come back to me, okay?
Qin Yao: Don’t worry, while you’re with her, I’ll keep paying your salary as usual.
Wait, wait, wait,
She recognized every character, but put together like this, they suddenly stopped making sense.
Go to Yue Ling to repay a debt? What was that supposed to mean? She had no memory of that at all.