Chapter 73: Self-Deception Part 2

They were both supporting actresses in this movie, with roughly equal screen time.

The two had gotten along quite well lately. Since the signal was poor and there wasn’t much entertainment, they usually spent their downtime playing cards or mahjong. It was impossible not to become friends.

Hanxing sat up and threw on a jacket. Zhang Ling walked in. “Hungry?”

“A bit.”

Zhang Ling produced a bucket of KFC her assistant had bought. “Want some?”

Hanxing didn’t hesitate. “Heck yeah.”

They chatted while they ate.

Zhang Ling had also worked through the night. She was currently eating heartily while wearing a face mask, eager to share some gossip. “Did you hear? The Geek movie is finally moving forward.”

“I heard a whisper. Is the cast set?” Hanxing asked.

“Didn’t you audition?”

“I tried out for a role,” Hanxing said. “Never got a reply.”

The production for Geek required video auditions and was recruiting from all over. The first round of screening alone took ages. Combined with a change in investors before filming, the movie had been delayed indefinitely.

Hanxing knew that “Geek” was Liu Siwang, who also happened to be Chun Liuyi’s ex-girlfriend.

But she was also an internationally renowned director. When word got out that she was holding open auditions, every actor in the industry was interested, save for those who had already made it big internationally.

Even then, Hanxing heard that a few big names had reached out to the production.

After thinking it over, Hanxing had submitted an audition video. The role she tried for was the complete opposite of her previous characters. It was a shadowy, petty person—a villain through and through.

When she finished the first take, she sent it to her manager.

The manager’s blunt review: So sleazy. So twisted.

It took over a dozen takes before Hanxing was satisfied. But with filming about to start and no word back, she assumed she had failed. She asked Zhang Ling, “What about you?”

“I didn’t audition,” Zhang Ling said. “My next drama is already set. A business-themed show with a female lead.”

“Who are you filming with?”

“Xu Congwen.”

That was an unfamiliar name.

Seeing Hanxing’s confusion, Zhang Ling explained, “She’s quite young, only a senior in college. Right now, she’s filming Crossing Shadows with Sister Liuyi.”

Hanxing froze.

“Isn’t Crossing Shadows a solo female-lead film?” Hanxing asked. “No romance?”

“Yeah.” Zhang Ling opened her phone to show Hanxing the messages her manager had sent yesterday. “Xu Congwen plays her younger sister. Her acting is pretty good.”

Because she was moving straight from one set to the next, the manager was worried Zhang Ling would have trouble getting into character with a new partner. The manager had connected them on WeChat and sent over some behind-the-scenes clips of Xu Congwen to help Zhang Ling adjust.

In those clips, Hanxing only noticed Chun Liuyi.

Chun Liuyi’s state was as monotonous as ever. Once the cameras stopped, she rarely interacted with anyone. Even in a noisy setting, she remained silent and still.

Just like when they had filmed together.

Zhang Ling asked about their upcoming film. “When is it coming out? Aren’t you and Sister Liuyi on pretty good terms? The promotion for that is definitely going to cause a storm.”

Zhang Ling was blunt and outspoken. She pressed her hands together and muttered a prayer. “Heavenly Father, please don’t let my drama air at the same time as yours.”

“Even if it does, it’s fine,” Hanxing said. “Ours is a movie.”

“I’ll buy out some theaters for you when it drops,” Zhang Ling said, patting her shoulder. “Ten for you, ten for Sister Liuyi.”

She was playing the role of the ultimate neutral party.

Hanxing gave a non-committal smile. “Thanks in advance.”

Zhang Ling was a warm person. She chatted a bit longer before leaving once they had finished their food.

Hanxing was wide awake. She opened her phone to search for Chun Liuyi’s latest updates.

It had been a while since she had searched for that name.

The last time they met was at the Thorn Crown performance. Afterward, Hanxing had shamelessly badgered her into talking for a bit.

Chun Liuyi had treated her with cold indifference, yet Hanxing had only one request: for her to be taken off the blacklist.

Chun Liuyi refused.

Thinking of that night still made Hanxing feel suffocated. No matter what she said, Chun Liuyi had remained in a state of “read but no reply.”

Eventually, Hanxing had broken down. “What are you thinking? Just say something!”

“It was too impulsive,” Chun Liuyi said flatly. “We were both too impulsive.”

“I don’t think I was impulsive,” Hanxing argued. “I have feelings for you, and you have them for me. Why…”

“You haven’t stepped out of the character of Shen Yan yet.” Chun Liuyi stared at her. “Zhu Hanxing wouldn’t do these things. Only Shen Yan would.”

“Well, I played Shen Yan! She’s merged into my blood and bone, she’s part of me now. Why can’t I do these things?!”

Chun Liuyi’s voice was hard and cold. “But you will play countless roles in the future. Shen Yan, Li Yan, Zhang Yan… you will partner with different people. Given your state, how many people will you fall in love with? Do you even know yourself?”

“But I haven’t! I’ve been in so many shows, and you’re the only one I’ve actually felt anything for…” Hanxing tried to explain.

“But I don’t like women,” Chun Liuyi said. “Being with you was an impulse. Forget it.”

“Then what about you and Geek…”

“Youthful folly,” Chun Liuyi said dismissively. “That changed a long time ago.”

Hanxing had been fuming. She lashed out with a sharp tongue. “A ‘youthful folly’ where you dated a girl, and now you’re sleeping with another girl, but you claim you don’t like women! Chun Liuyi, does that even sound sane to you? What, have you been sleeping with men too?”

“How do you know I haven’t?” Chun Liuyi gave her a sideways glance. “Forget it, Zhu Hanxing.”

Chun Liuyi was like a slab of iron. No matter how hard Hanxing kicked her, Hanxing was the only one who ended up in pain.

Since that day, Hanxing had forced herself not to search for her. And because she was still blacklisted, she couldn’t see Chun Liuyi’s social media posts.

In their crew group chat, there were occasional updates on the movie’s progress. A few days ago, the word was that the film was edited and sent for review. Chun Liuyi had blended in with the crowd, posting a generic “congratulations” emoji.

Hanxing clicked on their private chat window. It still held their old conversation.

One night, she had scrolled through those records until dawn, then deleted the entire history.

From the first trembling, cautious “Hello,” to the final, screaming accusations. Everything vanished in an instant.

But Hanxing could lie to the world, but not to herself.

Her heart ached. It felt just like Shen Yan’s pursuit of Hu Jia—exhausting, yet drawn to the flame like a moth every single time.

Occasionally, Hanxing couldn’t tell if she was Shen Yan or Zhu Hanxing. The movie was finished, but she hadn’t managed to leave it behind.

Chun Liuyi’s schedule was still packed—ads, magazines, movies—one thing after another without a break.

While searching, Hanxing saw a post from a gossip account: “Actress C is about to star in a film by an international director. The two discussed the script late into the night, and she even changed clothes the next day. Those who know, know.”

The top comment decoded it immediately: “Chun Liuyi is doing Geek’s movie. She slept her way in.”