Chapter 64: Sorry Part 1

The System’s maintenance had come suddenly, but Zhu Lexing didn’t harbor any suspicions.

In the end, the System had proven unreliable far too many times. Over the years, its sole function had been to give her a premature taste of high blood pressure.

As for the “mysterious surprise” it had mentioned, Zhu Lexing only hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be a fright. Anything else would do.

After a brief daze, she sorted out her thoughts and threw herself back into her new work.

Just from recording a single variety show episode, news about the two of them had spread like wildfire across the internet. In a matter of days, Zhu Lexing’s backstage fan count had skyrocketed by over 100,000, and even the perpetually lukewarm Xingmian CP super topic had exploded overnight, drawing tens of thousands of new members.

After a few days of tender moments with Yan Mian, Zhu Lexing was summoned back to the company by Jin Yu. She could only bid a reluctant farewell to Yan Mian at the airport.

Before boarding, Yan Mian reached up, looped her arm around Zhu Lexing’s neck, and planted a kiss on her cheek through the mask.

Zhu Lexing looked down at her. Yan Mian’s eyes curved into a smile. “It’s fine. We’ll see each other again soon.”

Zhu Lexing said, “Didn’t you say that last time too?”

Yan Mian knew full well that, to Zhu Lexing, her sudden appearance last time had been something of a “burden.” And this time, Jin Yu’s abrupt summons was for a talk with Zhu Lexing as well. Knowing the pressure it put on her, Yan Mian promised honestly, “Not next time.”

Zhu Lexing felt a little unaccustomed to her tone, but Yan Mian meant well—she just wanted to spend more time with her.

“That’s not what I meant.” As Zhu Lexing started to say, Yan Mian blinked. “Does that mean Xingxing’s okay with me visiting you on set?”

Zhu Lexing: “…You still want to visit me on set?!”

Yan Mian said, “Aren’t we a CP now?”

Boarding calls began behind them. Zhu Lexing gently turned Yan Mian’s face aside. “Focus on your work. And remember to eat properly.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” Zhu Lexing said solemnly.

She had just boarded the plane when a message came in.

-I’m already missing you.

Yan Mian had attached a pitiful emoji.

Zhu Lexing wanted to poke her cheek through the screen.

Once the plane landed, a car from Xinghong Entertainment—headquartered in Rong City—picked up Zhu Lexing.

This time, unusually—

Jin Yu didn’t yell at Zhu Lexing.

Instead, she asked Zhu Lexing very calmly, “Are you seriously dating Yan Mian?”

How could dating be anything less than serious? Zhu Lexing wondered blankly. She and Yan Mian had been together for nearly three years—round it up, and it was five; round it down a bit more, and it was a decade of golden marriage.

Their love was as solid as gold!

She braced for Jin Yu to say something about breaking them up, her expression turning odd.

But the Beta before her let out a long sigh of relief and closed the folder. “Fine then. Date away.”

Zhu Lexing: “…”

Zhu Lexing hesitated. “What’s going on with you?”

Jin Yu said, “What do you want me to say? In the eyes of the netizens, you’re practically married already. If I tried to split you up now, what kind of person would that make me? You don’t make money, but I do.”

Jin Yu spoke matter-of-factly, but Zhu Lexing sensed there was more to it. Still, after a few seconds of silence, she didn’t pry. “Thanks, Sister Jin.”

Only then did Jin Yu look her squarely in the eye.

She opened her mouth, her expression gradually softening. Zhu Lexing thought some profound closing remark was coming—then the Beta frowned and blurted, “Have you gained weight recently?”

Zhu Lexing: “…………”

“Zhu Lexing! I told you to maintain your weight! Do you even want to act anymore?!”

Under Jin Yu’s supervision, Zhu Lexing spent a few days in the gym, finally bringing her weight back to a level Sister Jin approved of.

Zhu Lexing had no idea why anyone aspired to be skinny as a rail. The moment Jin Yu was satisfied, she started to bring up returning to Yan Mian—only for Jin Yu to pull out a script and hand it over. “Take a look. Interested?”

Zhu Lexing glanced down. The most eye-catching line on the script read:

Director: Chen Shu

She was an internationally renowned director whose films won awards upon release—a golden opportunity in any country’s entertainment industry.

But Jin Yu’s tone was too casual, like a joke, so Zhu Lexing hesitated. Jin Yu couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore and let out a long sigh. “You’re so lucky! Director Chen saw your performance on the variety show and personally sent this your way!”

It wasn’t until she left the company that Zhu Lexing fully processed it.

As she stepped outside, the sun shone brightly, the skyline stretching endlessly. She stood there for a moment, gazing at the sky, then dutifully forwarded what Jin Yu had said to Yan Mian.

The reply came quickly—Yan Mian had probably just wrapped a scene.

-Xingxing’s a big star now.

Zhu Lexing found the teasing tone amusing.

-When do you wrap?

-I’m done.

Zhu Lexing video-called her and bantered her way home amid the noise.

In the car, she still couldn’t figure it out. They’d both been on the variety show together—why had Chen Shu only approached her and not Yan Mian?

…Hold on.

Yan Mian hadn’t actually said whether Chen Shu’s team had reached out or not.

Just as Zhu Lexing was about to ask again, she caught Jin Yu approaching out of the corner of her eye.

She hurriedly ended the call, the abrupt motion drawing a sidelong glance from the woman. “Checking your hot searches?”

Jin Yu was an agent who paid close attention to her artists’ moods. From day one, she’d drilled into Zhu Lexing’s head not to read netizen comments, lest she bring herself down.

Zhu Lexing shook her head. “Chatting with Yan Mian.”

After a pause of a few seconds, she added, “Did I trend again? Why?”

Jin Yu said, “Just the production team hyping things up. No need to look. Let’s go—don’t keep Director Chen waiting.”

On the way, Jin Yu remarked casually, “By the way, you and Yan Mian get along pretty well.”

She had never asked for the specifics of Zhu Lexing and Yan Mian’s relationship, so when the conversation drifted in that direction, she said naturally, “Are you planning to get married someday?”

Zhu Lexing paused and gazed out the window.

“…We’ll talk about the future when it comes.”

When they arrived at the destination, Jin Yu kept reassuring Zhu Lexing not to be nervous.

Zhu Lexing was holding up fine, but seeing Jin Yu’s hands trembling, she wanted to comfort her instead.

That impulse faded, however, along with any unspoken complaints, the moment she pushed open the cabin door.

Chen Shu occupied the seat of honor, with Yan Mian beside her. Dressed in a high-necked pure white sweater, Yan Mian quietly poured tea. Flecks of dust danced in the air, and her knuckles, lightly pressing against the purple clay teapot, gleamed all the whiter by contrast.

The two women appeared to be discussing the role. At the sound of the door opening, Yan Mian lifted her eyes.

Their gazes locked, and Yan Mian curved her lips into a gentle smile.

“Lexing.” Her tone was perfectly natural. In front of outsiders, she refrained from the more intimate “Xingxing.”

Zhu Lexing glanced instinctively at Jin Yu, only to meet the same look of bewilderment.

…To everyone’s surprise, the director had arranged this meeting on her own initiative. Yan Mian herself had only learned of it that morning. Uncertain of its success, she hadn’t mentioned it to Zhu Lexing ahead of time.

The imbalance prompted Zhu Lexing to shoot Yan Mian a look.

Beneath the long table, the Omega’s fingers stealthily hooked around hers—like a feather brushing lightly across her palm.

Zhu Lexing sneered to herself: Is this supposed to placate me?

She grabbed hold of that finger in all seriousness, then laced their hands together.

Jin Yu was deep in conversation with Chen Shu about the details when she noticed the director’s gaze wandering. Following it, she saw her own artist sitting there with cool indifference, while Yan Mian beamed sweetly beside her.

Jin Yu: “…”

Fighting? What kind of couple bickered like that?

Especially in front of the director. She was about to intervene and urge Zhu Lexing to soften her attitude when Chen Shu let out a sigh.

“Perfect.” Chen Shu nodded. “That’s exactly the dynamic I’m looking for.”

Jin Yu: “…”

For all her cryptic remarks, Chen Shu wasted no time with the contract. She wrapped things up so swiftly that the other three women were caught off guard.

Yan Mian shot Zhu Lexing a glance and sent her a message.

-Is it because Auntie Liu put in a good word beforehand?

Zhu Lexing shook her head. Yan Mian drew a blank as well.

A massive international opportunity had dropped right into their laps, secured with such ease—Jin Yu’s delight was written all over her face. As she saw Chen Shu off, her excited chatter rocketed straight to the stars.

Now alone in the cabin with the door half-closed, Zhu Lexing reached out and pinched Yan Mian’s cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She meant, of course, Yan Mian’s surprise audition.

Zhu Lexing cut in before Yan Mian could respond. “Don’t say it was to surprise me—”

“I wanted to give you a scare,” Yan Mian replied on the spot.

Zhu Lexing: “…”

Zhu Lexing pressed on. “When did you get so…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say “sly,” settling instead for: “So good with words?”

Yan Mian smiled. “Must be rubbing off on each other.”

Zhu Lexing opened her mouth to reply, but Yan Mian wrapped her in an embrace first, nuzzling shamelessly into the crook of her neck. “It’s been ages since we last saw each other. Don’t you miss me?”

Zhu Lexing: “…It’s not that long. Just five days.”

Even so, her voice softened as she stroked Yan Mian’s back, soothing the Omega without thinking.

Yan Mian murmured, “Five days is plenty long. I missed you terribly.”

Zhu Lexing replied, “We’re still out in public. No acting up.”

“But it’s just us here, isn’t it?”

Zhu Lexing had a nagging feeling that Yan Mian would say something outrageous if this kept up. She was about to lay down the law when the door swung open from the outside.

Xiao Hua’s eyes met theirs mid-air, but what really caught her notice was the glaring lipstick mark on Zhu Lexing’s neck.

The three women fell silent. Xiao Hua stammered awkwardly, “Si-Sister Jin forgot her things.”

Zhu Lexing said flatly, “You saw nothing.”

Xiao Hua snatched up the bag, clapped a hand over her eyes, and fled.

Yan Mian had work waiting and, after signing the contract, made her way back to T City to resume filming. Chen Shu’s movie—tied to local folklore—was slated to begin shooting in two months. Come next month, the pair would join the crew for relevant studies.

But before then, Zhu Lexing had one truly vital task.

Yan Mian’s birthday.

She mulled over the venue for ages before deciding to honor Yan Mian’s wishes: the Zhu Family home.

Zhu Lexing had seldom returned to Rong City in the past two years, yet that single year spent here remained etched in her memory.

The familiar surroundings stirred a sense of remoteness in her, as if a lifetime had passed.

Just two years—not so long, or so she’d thought. Stepping into the Zhu Family villa dispelled that notion. Servants still bustled about, though their numbers had thinned considerably.

They stared in surprise at the sight of her, but Zhu Lexing preempted them with a finger to her lips. They smiled and nodded.

She barely recognized some of the faces. A pang of wistfulness hit her, giving way to an abrupt question.

…How much time do I have left?

Zhu Lexing had avoided checking deliberately, but curiosity gripped her now. With the System away, though, she shelved it for the time being, awaiting its return in a few days.

Her room remained untouched, just as she’d left it—clearly at someone’s prior instruction.

Zhu Lexing sank into the bed, enveloped in softness like drifting on clouds.

See? Being a total slacker really clears the head—

She stared at the ceiling for several seconds before pulling out a box. Unfolding it slowly revealed a ring nestled on velvet.

…

This was Zhu Lexing’s birthday gift for Yan Mian.