The System sighed: 【It’s pretty hard to choose.】
Gu Liuguang: 【Is life more important or money?】
The System fell silent in shame, and Gu Liuguang muttered to herself, “If there were no missions, it really would be hard to choose.”
She messaged Lin Shixia that she wanted to drop by later. After tossing and turning in bed for a while, she still coveted the meeting gift Gu Shuang had mentioned.
As she grumbled to the System about how Gu Shuang must have done it on purpose—they weren’t meeting for the first time, and she and Lin Shixia were just friends—what was the need for a meeting gift? Gu Shuang just wanted to lure her over.
The System agreed she had a point: 【Then why did she want you to come?】
Gu Liuguang replied confidently: 【Why else? She just doesn’t want a scumbag like me getting close to her niece…】
They had met at a bar, so Gu Shuang probably didn’t have a good impression of people who went to bars.
Thinking about it, Gu Liuguang’s mind wandered. Just the day before yesterday, the other woman had been in A City, then suddenly had urgent business at the company and rushed back to C City in the middle of the night. Yet now she mentioned some Jewelry Exchange.
That didn’t look like urgent company business at all.
Gu Liuguang tapped away on her phone screen and messaged Gu Shuang, asking when the Jewelry Exchange ended.
-Little Light: If I go late, the exchange won’t end?
-Lin Shixia’s Little Aunt: Mm.
-Lin Shixia’s Little Aunt: Send me the address, and I’ll have the driver pick you up.
Gu Liuguang blinked and typed back: Little Aunt, I haven’t said I’m going yet.
Gu Shuang didn’t reply. Gu Liuguang thought for a moment and didn’t mention that she was going to visit Lin Shixia on set. She simply said she had plans to meet a friend, something arranged long ago.
After she sent the message, Gu Shuang replied with an “Okay” and asked if she would come after it ended.
It wasn’t narcissism on Gu Liuguang’s part—she really felt Gu Shuang was being overly nice to her. Even if it was for her niece’s sake, it was still too much, leaving her with a rare twinge of guilt.
That bit of guilt made Gu Liuguang hold back from demanding any meeting gift. She firmly but politely declined Gu Shuang, saying she probably wouldn’t have time that day.
The implication was that the meeting gift was off the table.
Gu Liuguang rummaged through the closet and pulled out one of Lin Shixia’s outfits. She’d already given Lin Shixia plenty of excitement the night before—it was time to show off her pure side.
Worried that confessing her job might make Lin Shixia unable to accept it, she chose clothes with more fabric: a fitted short T-shirt and wide-leg jeans.
The jeans were a bit big, and she couldn’t find a belt, so she folded the waist down and pinned it in place.
The dragging pant legs barely avoided tripping her. She slipped on sneakers, braided her hair into two pigtails in front of the mirror, and muttered, “Shixia has such long legs.”
Before heading out, she messaged Lin Shixia again. After some thought, she said she had no clean clothes and was borrowing hers for now.
Lin Shixia was probably on a break and replied to Gu Liuguang, saying she’d arrange for someone to buy her clothes and asking if she had any preferred styles.
Gu Liuguang wasn’t picky about clothes and replied that anything was fine.
When she backed out of the chat, she saw a message from Gu Shuang from over ten minutes ago. After her polite refusal, Gu Shuang seemed not to get the hint and simply said she’d pick out a meeting gift for Gu Liuguang herself.
Now Gu Liuguang couldn’t utter a single word of refusal. She was with Lin Shixia, after all—surely there was nothing wrong with Lin Shixia’s little aunt giving her a meeting gift?
She put on a mask and headed out to the production team.
Wang Li met her outside and handed her a work badge. As she did, she mentioned that another S+ production team was filming nearby today, with the male and female leads being top stars in the industry. If she liked any actors, there might even be a chance for a photo.
As they spoke, they spotted a small group of people—five or six—walking deeper into the unlandscaped green area off in the distance, holding something pointed toward them.
Wang Li was unfazed: “We’re all nobodies. They’re not worried about being photographed.”
Gu Liuguang tugged at her mask, relieved she’d worn it—otherwise, she’d die in the light again.
Inside, there were plenty of crew members. It was probably a break, so everyone was busy setting up props. Several people clustered around the monitor, and from afar, Gu Liuguang could see three standout figures standing together, scripts in hand, running lines.
Gu Liuguang hadn’t seen Lin Shixia’s look for this drama yet—not even leaked online—so she didn’t recognize her at first glance.
This was another xianxia drama adapted from a novel, a group-cast style similar to the currently popular Heavenly Dao.
It was a common phenomenon: one drama blew up, and similar ones quickly followed to ride the wave.
They’d cast Lin Shixia probably because her role resembled Yao Xia a bit—good acting skills at a low price.
With less spent on actors, there was more budget for sets, makeup, and costumes. Gu Liuguang was instantly stunned by Lin Shixia’s styling.
As someone who checked in daily on the Super Topic with photos, she instinctively reached for her phone to snap pics. If Wang Li hadn’t warned her not to take random shots, her camera would already be open.
Gu Liuguang wanted to head that way, and Wang Li led her in that direction too—but not to the center of the crowd. She told Gu Liuguang to wait there first until Lin Shixia and the others finished this scene.
There were rest stools with little fans and drinks, plus some personal items that clearly belonged to Lin Shixia. Gu Liuguang planned to sit and wait.
Wang Li suddenly whispered, “Liuguang, are you wearing Shixia’s clothes?”
Gu Liuguang hummed in agreement, feeling a bit guilty inside: “My skirt got dirty.” In truth, she’d done it on purpose.
Wang Li gave her a couple more looks, glanced toward Lin Shixia, and asked, “Does Shixia know?”
Emboldened on this point, Gu Liuguang nodded vigorously: “She does. I asked her.”
Wang Li hesitated, then said, “You could wear one of mine. I have a skirt.” Their figures differed quite a bit, but skirt sizes didn’t need to be exact. She explained, “Fans have sharp eyes these days. Even if it’s private clothes worn just once or twice, they can spot it.”
She knew Gu Liuguang was the one who’d gone grocery shopping with Lin Shixia—it had trended on Hot Search just the day before. If anyone spotted Gu Liuguang in Lin Shixia’s clothes, all those rumors about her being a life assistant would resurface.
For Lin Shixia, just starting out, that would be extremely detrimental. The company might drop her, and even this ongoing drama could recast.
Gu Liuguang asked in surprise, “Is it that serious?” She hesitated. “Should I go back and change?”
Wang Li softened, not wanting to scare her, and reassured her: “It’s fine. Maybe no one will notice. Worst case, say it’s a duplicate style.” Better than admitting it was Lin Shixia’s.
Gu Liuguang didn’t think the clothes would affect Lin Shixia. Lin Shixia was the chosen one, the darling of this world—her career would only soar, never hit a snag like this.
She just wanted to push things forward a bit.
Wang Li got called away. Bored on the stool, Gu Liuguang craned her neck to watch Lin Shixia and asked the System if it could sneak a few photos for her to post when the drama aired.
After much pleading and coaxing, the System finally agreed and snapped a few.
Over there, they finished running lines and started discussing movements and blocking. Lin Shixia chimed in with a line or two now and then. They ran it simply once, and it was about ready to shoot.
She glanced around outside the crowd, and Gu Liuguang had a sudden intuition she was looking for her. Unsure, she stayed put on the stool.
When Lin Shixia’s gaze landed on her, it was like she’d found what she was seeking. She relaxed, her smile turning more genuine, and mouthed to Gu Liuguang: Wait for me.
Gu Liuguang knew Lin Shixia was beautiful and had always liked her face, but she’d never invested real feelings. These likes were fleeting and illusory—these people were fake to her, destined to vanish, unable to even stay for a few short decades.
She also knew Lin Shixia would end up with Ye Qingying. This current affection was pale, forced by the plot.
But when Lin Shixia searched the crowd for her, Gu Liuguang felt trapped in some emotion, forgetting for a moment that this was a mission world.
Even as Lin Shixia’s smile grew more real upon seeing her, Gu Liuguang instinctively wanted to smile back.
Lin Shixia said “Wait for me,” and she even nodded.
Gu Liuguang’s hand drifted uncontrollably to her heart, feeling the beat beneath her palm, confirming she was still alive. She murmured, “This is too scary…”
Her emotions out of control, herself not feeling like herself.
The System was baffled: 【What’s so scary?】
Gu Liuguang was even more shocked than it: 【Didn’t you feel it? Just now, it was like…】 She frowned, searching for the right word: 【Like I fell in love with Lin Shixia or something. I even forgot these people are fake.】
The System had told her long ago that this was a world generated from a novel, birthed with its own World Consciousness due to special circumstances.
To protect these fragile newborn consciousnesses, they needed the world to function normally. The most direct way to draw energy was repeating and reinforcing the Original Plot over and over.
Being so newly born, they were full of flaws—characters often glitched in various ways. So the System sent hosts into the world to play roles, advancing the plot.
At binding, it had explained that the book world had come alive, which Gu Liuguang understood.
No matter how the System explained further, she never saw these people as real.
Having heard it so many times, the System was numb. When Gu Liuguang brought up the real-vs-fake people theory again, it blurted without thinking: 【Maybe you’ve been a ghost too long, and being human again feels unfamiliar?】
Gu Liuguang fell silent, frowning in thought on the stool.
Seeing how much it bothered her, the System turned into the caring big Tongtong: 【Have you never been in love before?】
Gu Liuguang had died too long ago and barely remembered her past life. She didn’t want to tell the System and mumbled vaguely: 【Don’t you check host profiles before binding?】
The System choked: 【Normal hosts, yes. But your situation is different.】
Gu Liuguang didn’t want the System knowing her past and brushed it off. Pretending to focus on Lin Shixia, she finally noticed Lin Hang in the wig nearby.