Chapter 21: Don’t Move Part 1

Stage drama was still niche and hadn’t hit the big screen, and 《New Tang Dynasty》 was still bombarding satellite channels. Everyone’s impression of Cheng Jinzhi remained that “comedienne” with the rhythmic crying. In small circles, Cheng Jinzhi and Rong Si now had the “Prince Consort” and “Princess” joke. When Cheng Jinzhi logged onto Weibo, people would stop by. “Prince Consort, your humble servant pays respects [laughing face].”

Of course, most were:

“Prince Consort, can you tell the Princess to open a Weibo?”

“When will the Princess open a Weibo? I want to unfollow you [cute].”

After wrapping her scenes, Rong Si took a sip of water and watched Cheng Jinzhi bury herself in her phone. She sat down beside her, picked up her textbook—finals were near, and she needed to prepare.

Cheng Jinzhi set her phone face-down on the table and turned to look at Rong Si. “When are you going to open a Weibo?”

“Weibo?” Rong Si looked up from her textbook, too absorbed in reading to react to Cheng Jinzhi’s words at first. Then the bewilderment in her eyes gradually cleared. “I don’t use that.”

“Then what do you usually do for fun?” Cheng Jinzhi glanced at the table and saw Rong Si’s phone on it. She picked it up—the phone didn’t even have a lock; sliding it open revealed the default desktop. The apps were mostly system defaults. The only one with any “popularity” was WeChat. Thinking about it, Rong Si’s WeChat seemed to have been applied for only recently too.

“Let me download some mobile games for you.” Cheng Jinzhi said, opening the app store. “When we have nothing to do, we can team up and level together.”

“Mm.”

In her past life, Rong Si had never opened a Weibo. No matter how high the #Rong Si# topic climbed to ten billion, only her studio’s Weibo posted a thank-you for the attention. Plenty of haters also came out to nitpick, saying she maintained “mystery” and had an idol’s burden. Others speculated that Rong Si had a falling-out with Xinqi Weibo, prompting a “Weibo secretary” to specifically deny it, posting several photos of Rong Si with Xinqi’s CEO and vice president.

Rong Si was even less down-to-earth than her, yet somehow she had explosive audience appeal. Cheng Jinzhi was a bit resentful of this. Viewers said Rong Si had a face destined for fame. Setting aside whether such a face existed—which celebrity didn’t want to be famous? Thinking of this, Cheng Jinzhi looked at Rong Si again. Actually, she did admire Rong Si’s composure to an extent. To pause her entertainment career at its peak and pivot into finance. When everyone else’s scandals were flying everywhere, the worst Rong Si ever got was a photo of herself going out to buy groceries. Cheng Jinzhi had seen that grocery-shopping photo, and she’d snorted at it—the lengths people go for image-building. In the photo, Rong Si wore a mask, calmly carrying two live fish, her pose looking distinctly staged. Especially with the comment section full of ecstatic fans: “Wifey, you went grocery shopping secretly again—didn’t we agree I’d do it?”

“Honestly, with the internet economy booming like this, applying for a public account and interacting with fans would attract even more fans.” Cheng Jinzhi said.

“Mm.”

Just then DC sent over the recording schedule for 《Hi, Lover》. Cheng Jinzhi saw Rong Si lower her head to read again, and the “mischievous plan” in her stomach started turning. “Reality shows are super hot these days. A lot of minor celebrities have squeezed into the public eye through them. Plenty of A-listers use them to maintain heat.”

In the past two years, reality shows raked in both money and viewers; title sponsorships alone started at one hundred million. With money in their pockets and a wider world seen, audiences were no longer satisfied with celebrities’ assembly-line personas. They wanted to see celebrities annoyed, angry, slamming doors—they wanted to see the ordinary person behind the golden glow. And for celebrities, it was even easier: personas were easy to build, money was easy to make. Go roll around on a variety show, show your familiar face, and good resources would naturally come sniffing for the attention.

“I’ve got a reality show here. Want to come with me?” This was the real point. Cheng Jinzhi didn’t like Rong Si being so stiff and dignified, with none of the air of someone her age.

Rong Si glanced at Cheng Jinzhi. “When?”

“Hey? You didn’t even ask what kind of reality show it is.”

“Can I not go?”

Cheng Jinzhi pouted awkwardly. “If you don’t want to, of course you don’t have to.”

She hadn’t expected Rong Si to actually lower her head and keep reading. Cheng Jinzhi was thoroughly deflated, unhappy… She put her hand on the table, rested her head on her arm, and just stared at Rong Si. “I respect your decision.”

“Mm.”

She didn’t even look at me! Cheng Jinzhi leaned in a little closer. Rong Si shifted away a little. When there was nowhere left to shift, Rong Si took Cheng Jinzhi by the shoulders. Cheng Jinzhi swallowed. God damn it, now any touch from Rong Si turned her into jelly. She waited for Rong Si’s next move. After a long while, she realized Rong Si was annoyed at her for blocking her textbook.

Cheng Jinzhi pouted.

Rong Si turned a page before looking up, seeing Cheng Jinzhi’s “teary-eyed” look. “Feeling unwell?”

“No.”

Rong Si seemed to sigh. “What kind?”

Cheng Jinzhi was stunned, then buried her head almost fully against Rong Si’s chest. “A dating one.”

“A dating one?”

“What about it?”

“Nothing.” Rong Si closed the book, pausing before continuing. “I just… am not used to dating in front of so many people.”

Seeing Rong Si’s utterly serious face, Cheng Jinzhi laughed. “It’s not us dating. We’re going as special guests.”

Cheng Jinzhi hadn’t actually wanted to go that badly. It was just that when Rong Si refused without thinking, she’d felt upset. She didn’t like being rejected—especially by Rong Si.

“You read.” Cheng Jinzhi said obediently, lying on Rong Si’s thigh.

“Like this, I can’t read well.”

“Is it my beauty distracting you?”

“No.”

Cheng Jinzhi’s eyes widened—a “say that again and I’ll be mad” expression.

“One of the reasons.” Rong Si “compromised.”

That satisfied Cheng Jinzhi. At ease, she fell asleep on Rong Si’s thigh. When she woke, she was lying in the hotel bed. On the nightstand was a plate of carrots, cut so neatly it could only be the work of that OCD freak Rong Si. Cheng Jinzhi chewed a piece and turned on the TV. It happened to be an entertainment channel, so she leaned back against the headboard. It was playing celebrity interviews.

Suddenly, Cheng Jinzhi’s eyes lit up. Rong Si! Rong Si was actually on the entertainment channel?

It seemed Rong Si had been caught by a reporter. The reporter was interviewing a little flower, and a few sentences in, spotted Rong Si.

At the end, the reporter asked Rong Si: “I heard some segments of 《Girls’ Fortress》 were ‘the real thing.’ Is that true?”

“Director Yi is a meticulous and responsible director. Miss Cheng is a very dedicated actress.” With that, Rong Si curled her lips, looking especially teasing.

Not just the reporter in front—even Cheng Jinzhi, outside the screen, was stunned. Rong Si’s answer sidestepped the question, and with that smile, it felt terribly tantalizing. As if there were no such thing… and yet as if there were. Cheng Jinzhi suddenly remembered what she’d told Rong Si a few days ago—that during interviews, one should actively throw out hooks. The better the hooks, the more material reporters had to write, the more the video had to air. Rong Si’s grasp of it was frighteningly fast. Cheng Jinzhi gnawed on a carrot, crunching loudly. She’d seen Rong Si smile before, but mostly on camera. In private, she’d never seen Rong Si smile. Was it because Rong Si didn’t like her, so she wouldn’t smile at her?

The production team of 《Hi, Lover》 soon contacted Cheng Jinzhi and Rong Si. The episode they’d be on was the last of the first season. Many special guests were invited, including Diva Fu Xinbai. 《Hi, Lover》’s theme song was sung by Fu Xinbai—her first time singing for a variety show. It was said the show’s producer was a close friend of Fu Xinbai, and it was a friend favor. Of course, that was also described as fans forcibly saving face, since the theme song was terribly syrupy, while Fu Xinbai’s usual songs were ethereal and meaningful. Cheng Jinzhi had heard Fu Xinbai live. Her voice—how to describe it? The moment she opened her mouth, Cheng Jinzhi got goosebumps. It was too beautiful. The low crooning from her throat twisted and turned like a demon. Even in Cheng Jinzhi’s playlist, which rarely included Chinese pop, there were several Fu Xinbai songs.

The special guests were first invited to the recording studio to record the final episode’s theme song together.

“Want to squeeze you the first glass of fresh orange, want to see your lips curl up, want to keep the first bite of ice cream for you, want your eyes to tilt up sweetly…” In the recording studio, Cheng Jinzhi wore her headphones; Rong Si beside her wore hers too. “My heart, it beats without rhythm, carrying all the joy in me…”

Cheng Jinzhi knew Rong Si could sing. Holding her headphones, she glanced at Rong Si. It was a jaunty song, yet Rong Si stood ramrod straight, hand pressed to her headset.

“Fall in love, on this summer’s Qixi, loving every second of you, you say, why do you always smile at me, your beauty, how should I tell you, let summer quietly tell you, it’s the best arrangement in the world, your arrival…”

Rong Si’s long fingers tapped her headset, her body swaying slightly. Seeing Rong Si’s awkward sway, Cheng Jinzhi burst out laughing. She’d finally found Rong Si’s weakness. Long-limbed Rong Si couldn’t dance to save her life. This realization made Cheng Jinzhi instantly “cocky.” Cheng Jinzhi had trained in dance since childhood with her grandmother; her flexibility was excellent. She began deliberately pressing close to Rong Si, swaying against her. This was a group song, and besides Cheng Jinzhi and Rong Si, there were other guests. Cheng Jinzhi’s physical “teasing” of Rong Si quickly drew the cameras toward them.

“Collecting your smile in my heart, can’t sleep all night, just this once, don’t wait for anyone’s whistle, just this once, cast away all worries, I want to start running in your heart…”

The first verse had barely ended when Rong Si caught the posturing Cheng Jinzhi. One arm around Cheng Jinzhi’s shoulder, she whispered in her ear. “What are you doing?”

Cheng Jinzhi’s ear itched. She raised her hand, and Rong Si grabbed it. Thinking Cheng Jinzhi was going to keep making little moves, Rong Si said again, her tone a bit gentle: “Don’t move.”

…Every time, she tried to tease Rong Si and got teased right back. It was clearly flirtation, but Rong Si’s words made Cheng Jinzhi feel like she must seem like an idiot with ADHD in Rong Si’s eyes.

The cameras happened to catch the redness creeping up Cheng Jinzhi’s ears. Not just the cameras—the gazes of every guest in the recording studio were drawn to them too.

These female celebrities these days—they’d start flirting with women at the drop of a hat.

First Time

This semester was the most serious Cheng Jinzhi had been as a student. In her past life, let alone studying, she wouldn’t even show up to finals. Papers, exams, tests—she found them all too early in the morning. The essence of an academic loser, a firm supporter of “studying is useless.” After rebirth, of course, things were different. Looking back, her major courses were actually pretty useful. If you put in the work during the semester, you wouldn’t be completely lost during exam week.

When exam week came, Xia You went to the library to study and brought Cheng Jinzhi along. Cheng Jinzhi went one day, marking key points alongside Xia You. Gou Yu followed and marked key points too. Xia You had the face of a good student, but she was actually a fake academic—a real academic loser who didn’t work hard except when teachers announced exam key points at the end of term. The next day, Cheng Jinzhi had a gig and didn’t go to the library.