Chapter 5: The Film Empress Who Jumped Off a Building to Commit Suicide (5)

“Why did you suddenly come all the way over here? If I’m not mistaken, your family home is a good seven or eight kilometers away.”

Shao Zizhi’s background wasn’t exactly a secret in the entertainment world. The paparazzi had long since dug up every last detail about where her family lived.

When Bai Qian brought it up, Shao Zizhi saw nothing amiss. “I moved out of the house in Jinyuan. Now I’m living on my own over by Xiangjiang. I came here to drop off some things for Shao Liangrong… uh… I got so caught up chatting with you that I forgot to get out of the car. The stuff’s still sitting in my trunk.”

No sooner had she spoken than her phone rang.

Bai Qian glanced instinctively at the screen on the center console. The caller ID was none other than the name Shao Zizhi had just mentioned—Shao Liangrong.

Shao Zizhi eased the car over to the roadside. Her slender right hand slipped off the steering wheel as she picked up the phone with one hand, her fingertip tapping the answer button.

“I’m on the road.”

Her voice was clear and crisp, carrying an even greater chill than when she’d addressed her as Miss Bai back then.

Bai Qian was starting to see just how many sides Shao Zizhi had.

Around her, the young woman was nothing but a sweet, playful little kitten—always rolling onto her back to bare that soft, fluffy belly of hers, begging for scratches with coquettish little mews. Scratch too hard by accident, though, and out came the tiny milk teeth, nipping at her hand in mock ferocity. It didn’t hurt a bit—just tickled, in the most endearing way.

Talk to her about acting, the passion that lit her up inside, and she became a lioness in the spotlight, regal and radiant, born to command the heights.

Now, speaking to the sister she ought to call “little sister,” Shao Liangrong, her face settled into a stern, elder-sister mask, practiced and pitch-perfect.

By the time she hung up, Shao Zizhi’s expression had softened without her even realizing it—like a harmless, needy kitten curling up to her. “She’s demanding I turn around right now. You’re not in a rush, are you? If not, mind if I take you home first?”

Bai Qian blinked in confusion. “Not at all. I wrapped up work for the day, and I’ve got nothing else on. Why would I be rushed?”

The car swung into the left-turn lane. A cocky grin spread across Shao Zizhi’s face—confident enough to be downright punchable. “Rushing home with me, that’s why. I bought the place just last month. Haven’t shown it off to anyone yet.”

“I’m not rushed. Thanks.”

“Oh, but you are.”

Bai Qian took a steadying breath and repeated calmly, “I’m really not. Thanks.”

“Oh, but you are.”

“Shao Zizhi, are you off your meds again?”

Shao Zizhi’s smile bloomed like a flower. “Bet you get how I felt now, huh?”

Bai Qian: ?

The girl let out a huff through her nose. “I still remember you forcing that blanket on me earlier. I said I wasn’t cold, but nooo, you insisted I was. Now you know exactly how I felt!”

“…”

Shao Liangrong was the fresh-out-of-college type.

From where she sat in the driver’s seat, Shao Zizhi blocked most of Bai Qian’s body from view. Anxious to grab her things, Shao Liangrong didn’t even notice the other passenger.

Had she caught a glimpse, though, she’d have frozen in her tracks and rushed over for some gleeful teasing and prying.

After all, aside from family, her cousin had never let an outsider ride in her car—not even the assistant who’d been with her for almost five years.

“First time on set for her? She’s got poise for days.”

If anything, better than most working actors these days.

“Shao Liangrong’s actually acting!”

Shao Zizhi fumed. “That little brat lied to me—said she was just visiting the set, but nope, she’s in the thick of it. How’d I miss her name? One of the maids by the female lead? Nah, I spotted the maid credits too, and it wasn’t her. Swapped her out before principal photography?”

“She’s an extra. Same as me.”

“Ah, that explains it. Her dad can’t ever find out, or he’d skin her alive.”

“Hm?”

Bai Qian wasn’t one to chase gossip, but if it fell in her lap, she didn’t mind listening.

Treating her like a friend she could confide in, Shao Zizhi spilled it all without a filter. “Her dad always pushed her toward business management, figuring she’d help run the family company someday. But she went and applied to film school on the sly. He nearly broke her leg over it—I had to step in and talk him down, or she’d have been toast.”

“Then last year, after graduation, he handed her a company to cut her teeth on. Told her to learn the ropes, losses be damned. But she dumped a fortune into film production behind his back. He only found out because he overheard it at some booze-up. Lost it completely and actually broke her leg that time. She spent three months flat on her back in the hospital. Kids these days—are they all this rebellious?”

Rather than answer, Bai Qian asked, “What’s her connection to Zhao Tong?”

“Zhao Tong was her senior sister in high school. She once had a crush on one of that little rascal’s friends and chased the guy for months before they finally got together. During their senior year, the guy went abroad, and Zhao Tong enrolled in film academy—the same one Shao Liangrong later applied to behind her dad’s back.

“I thought they’d lost touch by now, but just a few days ago, Zhao Tong got sexually harassed by the screenwriter from her last web drama. Shao Liangrong beat the crap out of him and landed him in the ICU, where he still hasn’t woken up. You wouldn’t have heard about it; the whole thing got hushed up. But how did you know Zhao Tong and Shao Liangrong were connected? That was swept under the rug too.”

“She came running to me and spilled it all herself. Then, right after, she claimed she was just messing with me. Does that sound like something a normal person would joke about?”

Shao Zizhi tsked in disdain. “That idiot poured all her brains into studying. No wonder she still hasn’t won the girl over.”

Bai Qian blinked in surprise. “They’re not together?”

“Nope. Shao Liangrong wants to date her, but Zhao Tong isn’t having it. Shao Liangrong won’t back off, so she had someone draw up a sugar mommy contract and strong-armed her into signing it. If you wanna get technical, they’re in a benefactor-and-kept-woman setup right now. Come to think of it, the Shao Family’s never had a love-struck fool like this before. Scary stuff.”

Bai Qian gave her a meaningful look. “What, you don’t think you could turn into a love-struck fool yourself?”

Shao Zizhi scoffed. “I’m all about my career. Dating? Not even on my radar.”

Bai Qian thought back to the love-struck female protagonist from the original plot—the one who got burned by romance and ended up jumping to her death in despair. She kept her mouth shut.

Now that I’m here, even if you try to go all love-struck, I’ll drag you back to your senses.

“We’re almost home. I used up the last egg in the fridge frying it yesterday. There’s a supermarket just ahead—wanna hop out and do some shopping?”

Bai Qian’s quick learning kicked in perfectly. Her face shifted in an instant, quicker than lightning. Her delicate brows furrowed, her eyes brimming with misty allure, making her look even more fragile than Daiyu.

“You’re not gonna make your little sister split the bill, are you? You just said I could mooch off plain rice. Can’t back out now.”

“…”

“Bai Qian, I’m starting to think there’s something seriously wrong with your head.”

Free stuff really was the best.

Bai Qian strolled the snack aisle like she owned it, pausing here and there. They’d barely covered half the section when her cart was already overflowing.

When she tried to jam a bar of chocolate in anyway, Shao Zizhi intervened. “No way, it’s really full this time. I’ll go grab another cart, okay?”

Bai Qian grinned. “Sounds good. I’ll wait right here.”

For the first time in her life playing pack mule, Shao Zizhi soon wheeled over a second cart.

Bai Qian now held two boxes of cherries. Spotting the other woman approaching from afar, she broke into a radiant smile and waved her over.

The woman’s face was usually so impassive. Perhaps, on that hazy, intoxicating night, she’d worn an expression both stunning and mesmerizing.

But the night had been too dark.

All Shao Zizhi could remember was the scorch of breath against her skin, cool fingertips delivering shivers of ecstasy amid the delirious fog.

She had tried to pull away from the confusion, murmuring as her eyes fluttered open. Yet the darkness was too thick; she caught no glimpse of the other woman’s face.

Now, the very person with whom she’d shared that deepest intimacy stood waiting, her smile brighter than ever, her eyes alight with genuine, touchable delight—so beautiful it made Shao Zizhi want to keep her all to herself.

She knew it wasn’t love.

Just a sudden, fierce fondness for Bai Qian in this exact moment.

“What’re you spacing out for? I saw you way back there, but then you slowed to a crawl.”

Shao Zizhi let out a petulant huff. “I busted my butt getting you this cart, and not only do I get no thanks, you’re snapping at me! Bai Qian, you’re bullying me!”

Bai Qian felt utterly innocent. She’d spoken in her normal tone—which word had been too sharp?

The young woman gazed up at her, all wounded and woebegone, her tiny face framed by enormous, puppy-dog eyes swimming with tears.

—As if a single word of comfort was the only thing keeping the waterworks at bay.

Bai Qian sighed in defeat and reached out to ruffle her hair. “All right, thank you for going out of your way just for me. Better?”

Shao Zizhi dropped the pitiful act, her lips curving in satisfaction. “Now that’s more like it!”

Bai Qian shook her head with a sigh. “Little girl, your family’s spoiled you rotten.”

“My parents only had me—who else were they gonna spoil? What, you think my personality’s the problem?”

“No, it’s fine just like this. Since your parents dote on you so much, I hope you never let some ordinary act of kindness from anyone send you tumbling head over heels into one-sided infatuation.”

She said all this as a precaution. If the changes to the current plot caused deviations later on, and if she truly didn’t have time to help the female protagonist in the future, she hoped those words would stick with her—enough to keep her from turning into the dumbest, love-addled fool over the male lead’s so-called “little romance.”

Of course, she would do everything in her power to stop things from heading down that disastrous path.

Shao Zizhi pouted, clearly unhappy. “I already told you, I’m not love-brained! Why won’t you believe me?”

“Fine, I believe you. What do you want for dinner? My boiled fish is pretty good—want me to whip up a batch for you to try?”

“Wow, you can cook fish? I always mess it up; it feels like such a hassle. Wait—no, you’re changing the subject again! Bai Qian, answer me straight!”

“Can you handle spicy? If so, I’ll make it with some heat.”

“I can take a little. Mild spicy’s fine. Hey—don’t dodge the question! I’m not love-brained. I’m really not!”

“Yes, yes, I believe you. Happy now?”

“You’re just humoring me. That doesn’t make me happy at all.”

Bai Qian halted abruptly mid-stride. Shao Zizhi, walking right beside her, nearly crashed into her arms again, caught off guard.

Luckily, she stopped just in time, then stepped back to steady herself. She opened her mouth to complain—”Bai—”

But the woman suddenly cupped her face in both hands. Her dark eyes were deep as ink in a watercolor, and she let out a soft chuckle. Her warm voice brushed over Shao Zizhi’s heart like willow fluff in the wind, leaving it tingling.

“Little girl, I believe you. Is that serious enough for you?”

In that moment, no melody in the world could stir the heart quite like that one sentence from the woman before her.

The one who’d teased her let go and turned away. Moments later, she returned, hefting a bag of bloodied fish fillets.

“Shao Zizhi, I’ve had the fish prepped. What are you standing around for? Let’s go.”

The little girl mumbled a dazed “oh,” shook her head hard behind the woman’s back, then hurried to catch up. She repeated herself with grave solemnity.

“Bai Qian, I’m not love-brained! Absolutely not!”

—No telling if she was hypnotizing herself or just struggling in vain.