The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 206

Chapter 206: There’s a Fox Here (Entertainment Circle) Part 19

Seeing Yu Shuangjiang staring intently at something behind her, Tao Ning also looked back, then at Yu Shuangjiang, puzzled.

After a moment, Yu Shuangjiang realized what she had been asked, scratching her head: “Well… there’s another reason I was hiding from her, she’s a bit… sensitive about these things.”

She sighed, recounting her manager’s past experiences before joining Yiwen Entertainment.

After several betrayals, the career-oriented Tu Xue had developed PTSD, wary of any hint of romance.

Qi Xiaojia, during a drunken confession, had compared Tu Xue to the type of friend who, after repeatedly advising her friend against a bad relationship, would wake up one day to a message saying, “I have something to tell you,” then end up as a bridesmaid at their wedding.

Tu Xue, drunk, had gone on a rant, even making Yu Shuangjiang swear she would never prioritize love over her career.

Qi Xiaojia, also drunk, had cheered them on.

With such a past, Tu Xue’s current attitude wasn’t surprising.

Tao Ning, after hearing the story, fell silent, deciding to avoid Tu Xue to protect her fragile heart.

Lest she faint from anger.

In the following days, Tao Ning was also busy, visiting late at night, removing the ears and tail, then leaving after a brief chat.

Even the perceptive Tu Xue couldn’t find any trace of her.

Finally, unable to catch them in the act, she decided to confront Yu Shuangjiang, who was in her dressing room, memorizing her lines, surrounded by staff preparing for the recording of the OST, the process filmed for behind-the-scenes footage.

Tu Xue got straight to the point: “You’re definitely hiding something, don’t tell me you’re dating a boy band member?”

Yu Shuangjiang’s voice rose slightly: “Of course not!”

Tu Xue, the former member of the FFF-tuan, the straight woman betrayed multiple times, the ultimate career-focused manager, paused, mentally reviewing a long list of actors, but couldn’t find any potential candidates.

On set, Yu Shuangjiang was always professional and polite, maintaining a professional distance, their interactions always appropriate.

She couldn’t think of anyone suspicious, the possibilities too vast, which was why she had asked.

She looked at Yu Shuangjiang, her tone hesitant: “Could it be one of your colleagues… no, no one fits the description.”

Yu Shuangjiang’s ears turned red, and Tu Xue, finally realizing something, her eyes widening: “Not a boy band, then a girl group?!”

Yu Shuangjiang denied it immediately: “No.”

But her reaction suggested otherwise, and Tu Xue, puzzled, pressed, “Don’t keep me in suspense, just tell me, so I can prepare myself.”

Yu Shuangjiang put down her script, beckoning Tu Xue closer: “Come here.”

Tu Xue, annoyed by her antics, leaned closer, and Yu Shuangjiang whispered a name in her ear.

Tu Xue’s mind went blank, unable to process the information.

A chair clattered to the floor as someone stood up abruptly, and everyone turned to look, seeing Yu Shuangjiang’s manager with a serious expression.

Yu Shuangjiang, seemingly oblivious, continued memorizing her lines.

Noticing their gazes, Tu Xue forced a smile: “It’s nothing, carry on.”

Confused, they returned to their work.

Tu Xue picked up the fallen chair, sat down, took a deep breath, and stared at Yu Shuangjiang’s profile for a long moment, then said, “I was wondering why she suddenly appeared at the hospital, I thought she was just there on behalf of the company, but she even offered to find you a doctor.”

“And then she used the excuse of research to stay at the hospital for half a month, more diligent than clocking in for work, I’ve heard she would do anything for her work, I didn’t suspect anything, who would have thought she was preying on someone so close?”

The thought of Tao Ning targeting her artist from the beginning made her protective instincts flare up.

In such a short time, not only had Tao Ning’s image in her eyes changed completely, but they were also officially dating.

She had never heard of Tao Ning being a “player,” wasn’t she known for her sharp tongue and perfectionism, destined to be alone?

“That’s fine, but didn’t you dislike her before…” Tu Xue touched her chest, she had considered many possibilities, but not Tao Ning.

And the answer was Tao Ning.

Yu Shuangjiang knew what she wanted to say, smiling dismissively: “But the present and future are more important, you know I don’t dwell on the past.”

Her words, so righteous, were like a bowl of chicken soup, not nourishing, but overly salty.

Tu Xue, her heart aching, shook her head, her voice filled with despair: “I was so stupid, truly…”

After all her efforts, she had still chosen a love-struck artist.

“Don’t worry, Tu Jie, I’ll still focus on my work,” Yu Shuangjiang said, lowering her voice and returning to her script.

Tu Xue knew that the more she pressured her, the stronger Yu Shuangjiang’s feelings would become, just like her sister, the high school teacher, whose attempts to prevent students from dating only strengthened their resolve.

And Yu Shuangjiang wasn’t a student, but a grown woman, having been in the industry for nine years.

Tu Xue grabbed her hand, her tone cautious: “Promise me you won’t retire and elope for a public relationship, at least not before forty.”

Yu Shuangjiang: “…”

She couldn’t help but ask, “Tu Jie, what have you been through?”

By the time everything was settled, summer had arrived, the leaves a deeper green.

The weather was getting warmer, and Yu Shuangjiang, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, sat cross-legged on her sofa.

Several scripts lay beside her, and she was reading emails on her laptop.

“Born under an ill omen, a demoness who destroyed three realms for love…?” The ears on Yu Shuangjiang’s head twitched, her swaying tail stilling as she read the synopsis, then she closed the document. “The first three episodes are interesting, but the rest must be even more intense.”

The production team was impressive, a famous director and a large company, well-funded, but she still rejected it.

She wouldn’t take on such a role, not before, and certainly not now.

The projects she had been considering had all been snatched up during her coma, and the production teams, not willing to wait, had moved on to other options.

Most of them had just been using her name for publicity anyway.

So she now had time to read scripts, instead of jumping from one project to another.

She knew the internet must be buzzing with rumors of her being rejected for The Legend of Wen Ying, no good projects coming her way, already writing her off.

Although The Legend of Wen Ying hadn’t officially announced its cast, rumors of Ji Ruoyi being chosen were widespread, her fans already celebrating.

Opening the next document, Yu Shuangjiang shifted, placing her laptop on the sofa and lying down, her chin resting on her hands.

Her tail swished behind her, and she scrolled down: “Much better, not crushing my tail.”

She still didn’t know when the ears and tail would disappear, Tao Ning always saying it wasn’t time yet.

After reading for a while, her ears twitched, and she sat up, jumping off the sofa and opening the balcony door.

Tao Ning stood outside, about to knock.

The sliding door suddenly opened, a figure rushing out, soft ears brushing against her neck, and Tao Ning instinctively caught her, her hand supporting Yu Shuangjiang’s thigh.

Yu Shuangjiang’s arms were around her neck, her eyes bright: “You’re late tonight, were you busy?”

Tao Ning carried her inside, closing the door behind them: “I’ve been working on the script, almost finished, and there were some things to deal with at the company, sorry I’m late.”

Yu Shuangjiang jumped down, her tail twitching beneath her long skirt, its tip brushing against the floor.

Noticing the laptop bag in Tao Ning’s hand, she took it: “You must be busy, I just made some pear tea, do you want some?”

She skillfully picked a long cat hair from the bag, flicking it aside, to be cleaned by the robot vacuum later.

Zhi Ma Juan the cat didn’t have such long fur, only Yu Shuangjiang’s tail did.

It was both a blessing and a curse. Yu Shuangjiang no longer randomly transmigrated into the cat, but the side effects persisted, the ears and tail always with her.

She could move freely during the day, but at night, she had to return home.

But her work often required her to stay out late.

To prevent her from suddenly sprouting a tail and ears in public, Tao Ning had given her a talisman, which did conceal them.

But just because they weren’t visible didn’t mean they didn’t exist, their presence still a burden.

Recently, Yu Shuangjiang always wore a hat and a tight belt, refusing to let anyone touch her head.

This puzzled Tu Xue, who asked conspiratorially, “Is that hat a gift from Tao Ning? Is it that precious?”

Yu Shuangjiang, now labeled a hopeless romantic by Tu Xue: “…No, I bought it myself.”

Tu Xue, knowingly: “I see, you’re saving the one she gave you.”

Yu Shuangjiang: “…”

And she had to constantly adjust her invisible tail, preventing it from causing trouble.

Like a few days ago, when her tail, not properly secured, had hit Qi Xiaojia, startling her.

Now, looking at the laptop bag, then at Tao Ning, sipping her tea,

Knowing Tao Ning usually transformed into her fox form to visit, she wondered where she kept the bag then.

Some thoughts were best left unexplored, like wild horses, once unleashed, difficult to control.

An image appeared in her mind—a beautiful white fox with nine tails, soaring through the night sky, a laptop bag in its mouth.

Even a nine-tailed fox had to work in this cruel, capitalist society.

Tao Ning, oblivious to her thoughts, suddenly felt a chill and turned to Yu Shuangjiang, who was staring at the laptop bag, lost in thought.

What’s she thinking about now?

A glass of pear tea later, having successfully bribed the nine-tailed fox, Yu Shuangjiang’s ears and tail disappeared.

After removing them, Tao Ning wouldn’t leave immediately, staying until late at night.

Tu Xue, resigned, knew that couples in love wanted to be together all the time.

But there was one thing she couldn’t understand, how did Tao Ning enter and leave without being detected by the paparazzi?

As a popular celebrity, Yu Shuangjiang’s apartment building was constantly monitored, any unusual activity attracting attention.

Even if she racked her brains, Tu Xue wouldn’t guess that Tao Ning didn’t use the door, but rather, the sky, catching her would be a miracle.

Usually, they would watch movies together, analyzing and discussing them.

But with their busy schedules, they now worked separately, both focused on their laptops or phones.

Yu Shuangjiang sat on the sofa, the rhythmic tapping of Tao Ning’s keyboard a familiar sound, reminding her of her time in the hospital.

After finishing reading a script, she opened the next document.

A rare supernatural genre, a bit of an ensemble cast, but a certain passage caught her attention.

[The woman sneered, “So what if you know? Since you’re here, you’re not leaving!” With that, she transformed, a fiery red fox, its body like a small mountain, its paws thick and powerful, leaving cracks on the ground as it stepped, its face ferocious, its fur like needles.]

The fox she had seen was nothing like that, elegant and graceful, its fur smooth and soft.

But she had never seen Tao Ning in her true form, if she was truly that large, then wouldn’t she…

Yu Shuangjiang, staring at the script, turned to Tao Ning: “My dear girlfriend, I have a small request, can I lie on your true form?”

It seemed like it would be very comfortable.

Tao Ning, typing away on her laptop: “?”

A while later, the curtains in the brightly lit living room were drawn, and a large, fluffy white fox appeared.

The coffee table had been moved aside, the space occupied by the fox and Yu Shuangjiang, the fox’s fur pure white, its eyes narrow, its nine tails spread out on the floor.

A true fox spirit had no trouble controlling its tails, each one placed according to its owner’s will.

Yu Shuangjiang lay face down on the fox’s soft belly, inhaling deeply.

A fragrant, warm, fluffy fox.

A dream come true.

Still feeling a bit chilly, she pulled a tail over herself, like a blanket, doubling the comfort.

Tao Ning, noticing her actions, adjusted her position, her head resting on the sofa, and a few tiny figures struggled to carry her laptop over, placing it before her.

The little figures, their voices childish: “Master, we brought it!”

Yu Shuangjiang quickly lifted her head: “What was that? Tiny people talking, so cute!”

“Mm-hmm,” Tao Ning hummed softly, her head on the sofa, her ears drooping lazily.

These little figures, unlike the ones she had created earlier by imbuing paper figures with spirits, were formed from her own fox spirit energy, more attuned to her will, not even requiring verbal commands.

But they couldn’t stray too far from her, unlike the paper figures.

Looking closely, one could see tiny features on their faces, and Yu Shuangjiang examined them, touching one, still puzzled by how their tiny mouths could produce sound.

“Don’t touch! I’m working!” A little figure pushed her finger away, then joined another, jumping on the keyboard.

But their jumps weren’t random, each one landing on a key, typing words.

After watching for a while, Yu Shuangjiang realized they were helping Tao Ning write.

Amazed, hugging a fluffy tail, she said, “They can even write your script for you? How magical!”

Tao Ning’s voice was lazy: “Not helping me, I’m controlling them.”

“You can do that? Why didn’t you do this earlier? It’s so convenient!” Yu Shuangjiang immediately understood, they were under Tao Ning’s control.

So it was like telepathic typing?

Tao Ning repeated her earlier answer: “It’s better to develop good habits, to avoid being exposed.”

“You’re right,” Yu Shuangjiang thought, a nine-tailed fox must have lived for a very long time, having learned to blend into human society.

Without a guide, she had to be even more careful, avoiding anything that might expose her.

Controlling these little figures was convenient, but relying on it too much would create bad habits.

The little figures continued typing, and Yu Shuangjiang, no longer interested in checking her emails, lay on the sofa, watching them.

As the night deepened, a slight chill lingered in the early summer air, and Yu Shuangjiang, dressed only in a nightgown, shivered, pulling a tail closer for warmth.

Another tail moved, silently wrapping around her, a comforting warmth.

Yu Shuangjiang released the tail she had been holding, her arms around Tao Ning’s neck, nuzzling against her cheek: “So fluffy and warm.”

Tao Ning’s eyes flickered, nuzzling back gently.

The little figures on the keyboard stopped typing, carefully climbing down, turning into tiny foxes and running back to Tao Ning.

The last one to leave tapped the “send” key with its hind paw.

A notification sound from Yu Shuangjiang’s laptop.

She reluctantly released Tao Ning, puzzled: “Who would message me so late?”

Tao Ning’s voice beside her: “Me.”

Yu Shuangjiang, amused, pulled her laptop closer: “I’m right here, why message me on my laptop?”

Opening the message, she saw the title: Burning Heart.

A warmth spread through her heart.

Tao Ning’s voice, calm and indifferent: “Because it’s for you, I just finished it, want to read it?”

As if under a spell, Yu Shuangjiang’s fingers trembled as she opened the document, eager to read every word.

Her slow pace, however, was interrupted by Tao Ning’s tail, which wrapped around her, pulling her into an embrace.

Another tail covered her eyes: “It’s late, time for bed, you have work tomorrow.”

Entangled and unable to escape, Yu Shuangjiang could only surrender, the lights turned off by another tail.

She had lost count of how many times she had been amazed by Tao Ning’s magical tails, and she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

She dreamt of a dark and rainy day, huddled in a corner, shivering from the cold.

Despair washed over her, she was going to die here, alone and forgotten, her dreams unfulfilled.

A figure with a sky-blue umbrella walked past, chasing away a barking dog, then looked up, seeing a wet and bedraggled cat.

She woke up, sunlight streaming into the room, a comforting warmth surrounding her.

She turned over, burying her face in the soft fur, inhaling deeply.

Such a large and fluffy fox bed, so comfortable.