Chapter 54 Part 1

Thanks to Us on the Road, both Lu Wuqi and Lin Qingxu gained a massive surge in popularity. The former’s fans climbed to over three million, while Lin Qingxu smoothly broke past the ten-million mark, solidifying her second-tier status and setting her sights on first-tier fame.

Director Wen was incredibly efficient. Less than a month after the variety show wrapped, she sent the complete script to Lin Qingxu and formally invited her to play the female lead—a tragic figure who starts as a beggar girl, rises to lead a local faction through sheer grit, only to fall on the eve of victory.

The female lead wasn’t based on any single real person; she embodied all the women of that era who dared to resist.

The female second lead represented women ground down by the times to the point of numbness—a sheltered young lady married off by parental decree and a matchmaker, only to be abandoned by her husband after he returned from studying abroad.

How could a beggar girl and a street tough possibly cross paths with such a refined lady?

The answer was simple: war. Invaders slaughtered the lady’s family, her so-called husband ditched her during the escape, and the female lead—who roamed the streets—found and rescued her.

Though billed as a same-sex romance, Director Wen aimed to use the emotional tension between the two leads to highlight two vastly different women, positioning them as mirrors of each other.

Of course, the female lead wasn’t flawless. She could be reckless and extreme, and wasted efforts might shake her convictions or make her doubt herself.

The female second lead, numbed by feudal traditions, still harbored kindness and hope deep inside. Within her limited means, she wanted to contribute what she could.

“Xiao Qi, I want to play the female lead. This script really speaks to me.” Lin Qingxu’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at Lu Wuqi. “Is that okay?”

“Of course. If you want to act in it, then do it. I support you.” Lu Wuqi replied. “This is your career—you have full say.”

“But the script has some intimate scenes with the female second lead.” Lin Qingxu hesitated a bit. “I kiss her right before dying, and it probably can’t be faked with a body double.”

Lu Wuqi’s eyebrow twitched slightly as she let out a soft sigh. “I’d probably get jealous, but I won’t stand in your way. I know the difference between acting and reality.”

“Besides, the script is genuinely compelling. There are so few films that focus purely on women like this.” Lu Wuqi paused, her eyes reflecting Lin Qingxu’s figure. “Too bad my acting is so awful. Otherwise, I could step in as the female second lead myself.”

Lin Qingxu’s lips curved into a smile at the thought of Lu Wuqi’s skills. “Then I’ll accept Director Wen’s offer.”

“When do you join the crew to sign the contract?” Lu Wuqi asked, pulling Lin Qingxu into a hug and nuzzling her cheek. “I should be able to tag along, right?”

“The script’s only just finalized. It’ll take time to secure investments and cast the rest. Shooting probably starts after the New Year.” Lin Qingxu mentally tallied the timeline. “By then, I should have cut ties with Yang.”

“Xuxu, how about I become your manager? I’ve got plenty of resources at my disposal now.” The idea suddenly struck Lu Wuqi. “Plus, managers can visit the set anytime—even on closed shoots, I could drop by.”

Lin Qingxu pondered it seriously. Ever since she’d turned down most of her schedules, Sister Jin hadn’t lined up many opportunities, and her reliance on a manager had faded.

“Sure. Sister Jin’s locked into a long contract with Yang, so leaving means a new one anyway.” Lin Qingxu said. “Then I’m putting my future—and everything—in your hands.”

“Deal. I’ll stick by you always.” Lu Wuqi grinned. “Once you’re a Best Actress, I might even ride your coattails to gold-standard manager status.”

“Let’s make it happen together.” Lin Qingxu planted a kiss on Lu Wuqi’s cheek. “Future top manager, help me draft a character bio?”

“You got it, my future Best Actress.” Lu Wuqi laughed in agreement.

–

With Dahai Entertainment as her backer, Lin Qingxu truly appreciated the saying: with a strong supporter, it’s easy to enjoy the shade.

Even before filming began, there were still group dinners and networking events. But now, instead of schmoozing directors and producers, she was the one most people fawned over.

Director Wen’s new film had real depth, and the script was outstanding. Unfortunately, the sensitive subject matter scared off investors chasing safe commercial returns.

In the end, Lu Wuqi swept in with a fifty-million investment. She even carved out a plot of land from Wanbang Group holdings and, in a grueling three months, recreated an entire Republic-era street for Director Wen to work with freely.

With the set ready and funds plentiful, Director Wen grew even more selective. True to their deal, she invited Chu Xiao to audition for the female third lead.

Chu Xiao had initially planned to go, but when she saw the female second lead was some fresh grad, she soured and backed out, claiming scheduling conflicts.

Even if Chu Xiao had shown up, the role wasn’t guaranteed—Director Wen had sent auditions to over ten actors. She wanted someone who looked the part and could act, not just a big name with traffic.

Principal photography kicked off in May and didn’t wrap until just before New Year’s. Then came post-production and promotion.

Too late for the spring release window, so they slotted it for July 1—fittingly thematic.

–

“Xiao Qi, if we lived in that era, could we be together?” Lin Qingxu asked suddenly upon returning from the wrap party, a faint whiff of alcohol clinging to her.

She hadn’t been forced to drink at the party, but the lively atmosphere had tempted her into a few extra glasses, leaving her pleasantly tipsy.

Lu Wuqi, who came along, vividly remembered last year’s drunken escapades. She stuck to juice the whole night and didn’t touch a drop.

The internet’s memory was short, and trends cycled fast—but CP fans were loyal to a fault. Every fan creation had to feature those iconic moments, cementing Lu Wuqi’s image as adorably spoiled and clingy in fans’ minds, no matter how much she protested.

“Of course we could. I’d fall for you at first sight and hide you away in a golden house.” Lu Wuqi said.

In another era, she’d probably be a real estate mogul. With money and power in hand, she could be with whomever she wanted.

“You wouldn’t do anything else?” Lin Qingxu pressed, her expression a touch dazed.

The near-eight-month shoot had pulled her deep into the role; she was still shaking it off.

“I’d probably fund the troops, but I wouldn’t go to the front lines myself.” Lu Wuqi answered honestly—she’d learned the full plot on set. “I don’t have any lofty ideals. Just living happily with you is enough.”

“That’s how I feel too. I’d help where I could, but I couldn’t give everything for some grand cause.” Lin Qingxu murmured. “My mindset doesn’t really match the character I played.”

“That’s normal. Different eras, different ordeals—different outlooks.” Lu Wuqi gently stroked her girlfriend’s head. “For us, it’s all just what-ifs.”

“If there were real national enmities and family vendettas, maybe we’d think differently.” Lu Wuqi mused.

Lin Qingxu mulled it over, gazing at the neon-lit streets below through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Slowly, she pulled herself free from the female lead’s shadow.

True enough—the eras were worlds apart. Having grown up in peace, she couldn’t truly empathize; she could only immerse herself in the role.

“Xiao Qi, for New Year’s, let’s visit the capital.” Lin Qingxu suggested abruptly. “I want to see the Forbidden City and some museums.”

“Sure. I’ll have Xiao Yang book the tickets.” Lu Wuqi agreed instantly, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend from behind. “How about we celebrate our two-year anniversary there?”

Lin Qingxu: “Mm.”

–

New Year’s passed, ushering in Spring Festival. As last year, Lu Wuqi tagged along to Lin Qingxu’s family home for the holidays.

Father Lin and Mama Lin were utter workaholics. Even with Lin Qingxu wiring them nearly a million each year, nothing could dampen their passion for the job—they toiled right up to the 27th.

Mama Lin, as finance director, was swamped until the evening of the 29th. By the time she drove home, it was past eleven, with only half an hour till New Year’s Eve.

She unlocked the door with her fingerprint and spotted her daughter and her girlfriend curled up on the living room sofa. Heads together, each cradling a phone, they were lost in whatever they were doing, faces lit with smiles.

Seeing their joy softened Mama Lin’s own expression into a smile. She slipped on her cotton slippers quietly and walked over.

“Why aren’t you two asleep?” Mama Lin asked, shrugging off her coat and setting it aside.

“Mama, you’re back! We were waiting to have a midnight snack together.” Lin Qingxu set her phone down and hopped up from the sofa. “Xiao Qi and I made tons of dumplings today. How many do you want?”

“I ate dinner with colleagues, so six will do.” Mama Lin said, settling into a nearby armchair.

Lin Qingxu flashed an OK sign and scampered to the kitchen in her slippers, pattering away.

“Auntie.” Lu Wuqi called out, pocketing her phone. “You look like you have something to say to me.”

“Yeah, a little heart-to-heart.” Mama Lin exhaled softly. “I’ve been following your news online. Honestly, when word of your illness broke, I wanted to tell Qingxu to leave you.”

“Only natural.” Lu Wuqi commented.

“I even called her about it, but she shut me down. She chose you, no hesitation.” Mama Lin’s face held a trace of helplessness. “We nearly had a huge fight over it.”

Lu Wuqi frowned. “Xuxu never told me. She shouldered it all alone.”

“But after watching the live stream, I eased up a bit. You weren’t using her, and things looked stable.” Mama Lin went on. “You’re not what I pictured… surprisingly human.”

At Mama Lin’s words, Lu Wuqi’s mind flashed to the black history she’d rather forget. She lifted her teacup for a quick sip.

“Xuxu is special to me—she means the world.” Lu Wuqi said, striving to keep her composure.