Chapter 61 Part 2

Zhao Yu messaged: —What do you want to do?

What to do?

Xie Dan had been a doctor before retiring—dedicated, at least to her profession.

She’d climbed to department head before stepping down.

Post-retirement, she’d chased Le Zhuo worldwide.

When Le Zhuo returned home for stability, dating and starting a family, the still-enchanted Xie Dan rushed back upon hearing.

Aside from her love obsession—which blinded her to her daughter—Xie Dan had no issues in career or otherwise.

Her “love brain” led to extreme tactics for Le Zhuo’s return.

Blame lay with that deadbeat dad: if he craved freedom, don’t marry; disliked kids, don’t have them—then shirk responsibility.

That was why Le Yiqiu had hesitated with Xie Dan.

Until Luo Luo’s offhand remark: “Isn’t it just love brain? Get a young sweet guy to date her.”

“Once she tries the thrill of a younger man, will she still pine for your old dad?”

“I’ll admit your dad’s handsome, charming even with age—but he’s old. He can’t beat fresh youth.”

“Our industry has tons of actors. Why not find a hot younger one to pursue your mom?”

Le Yiqiu had nearly throttled Luo Luo then.

A younger man chasing her mom? Way too absurd.

But on reflection, Luo Luo had a point. Love brain was love brain—anyone would do. Why fixate on that sixty-year-old baby-obsessed dad?

It felt unethical, but curing Xie Dan’s obsession might be a net positive.

With that in mind, she called Zhao Yu to handle it.

She laid out conditions:

One, no scamming Xie Dan’s money—all costs on her.

Two, no intimacy.

Three, make Xie Dan forget her ex—Le Zhuo.

These tripled the price, but money was no object if they worked.

Still, one worry lingered: what if Xie Dan truly fell for this hired guy?

Luo Luo had asked, “Would you rather she keep obsessing over a married ex—disrupting his life daily and hounding you, her own daughter—or fall for a professional?”

“You can rest assured. Professional con artists have their own code of ethics. Once the job’s done, they never pester the client—they just vanish into thin air.”

But what if Xie Dan fell for the con artist? And then the con artist disappeared anyway? Wouldn’t Xie Dan be heartbroken?

Le Yiqiu wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do. Even after telling Zhao Yu to scout for candidates—and hearing that Zhao Yu had found someone—she still hadn’t made up her mind.

That all changed when Xie Dan showed up at Lin Xianing’s workplace, demanding to see her.

Lin Xianing rarely had public appearances, and the site was packed with fans. Xie Dan might be a piece of work, but even she had the sense not to cause a massive scene in public.

Instead, she told the on-site staff to inform Lin Xianing that her mother was there.

The staff didn’t believe her at first. But the woman before them carried herself with the poise and refinement of an educated professional.

In an effort to look perfect for Le Zhuo’s wedding, Xie Dan had dressed in the bohemian style of her youth. But she was no longer that woman from back then.

Chen Tao happened to pass by and spotted her. The staff pulled her aside to ask about it.

A good assistant remembered everyone connected to the boss.

Chen Tao recognized Xie Dan instantly, but she wasn’t foolish enough to tip her hand. She told the staff to keep an eye on Xie Dan while she went to inform Lin Xianing.

Lin Xianing didn’t refuse the meeting. Rumor had it Xie Dan’s scolding that day rang out loud and clear.

Loud was an understatement—her words were sharp and vicious.

Chen Tao recorded the whole thing on video and sent it to Le Yiqiu.

Once Le Yiqiu watched it, all hesitation vanished. She told Zhao Yu to get the operative moving.

A few lines from the video pierced her heart, making her ache for Lin Xianing even as she hated herself.

Xie Dan had said, “Let’s cut to the chase. Have a kid and give it the Le family name, and I promise I’ll never bother you again.”

“You’re just an actress. Who knows what you’ve been through to get where you are? No wonder Le Yiqiu fell for you.”

“You think Le Yiqiu loves you? That heartless bitch isn’t capable of loving anyone.”

“Oh, from the Lin family, are you? Big clans are all filthy—body and soul.”

Every word was an attack on Lin Xianing, who said nothing in response. She simply listened.

Only after Xie Dan finished did she speak. “Ms. Xie Dan, I agreed to see you only because you’re Le Yiqiu’s mother.”

“I’ve heard lines like yours from too many people. Save your breath—empty barbs like that hurt no one but make you look weak and desperate.”

“Oh, and by the way, I’ve had your interview video scrubbed. No one will touch you now.”

“Even if you post videos online yourself, they won’t go anywhere.”

So… Lin Xianing had known all along. And she’d handled it quietly on her own.

Le Yiqiu wanted to slap herself. Any lingering softness or hesitation toward Xie Dan evaporated.

And Lin Xianing—this woman was too good, so good that Le Yiqiu wanted nothing more than to treat her better, and better still.

Anything Le Yiqiu had, anything Lin Xianing needed, she’d give with both hands.

Because of the time difference between their countries, their video calls had shifted to Le Yiqiu’s mornings and Lin Xianing’s evenings—right before bed.

One was always working when the other was free, so their chats relied on early wake-ups, lasting anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour.

That morning, their schedules overlapped briefly. Le Yiqiu had started work, but Lin Xianing had just wrapped up and gone home. They missed each other.

Fortunately, Le Yiqiu got off early that day. She was back at the hotel before six in the afternoon.

Lin Xianing had been thinking of her too. She’d set an alarm for six, and the moment it went off, her first words were to ask if Le Yiqiu was off work yet.

Le Yiqiu didn’t waste words. She jumped straight into a video call.

Lin Xianing was still tucked in bed, eyes half-closed in a sleepy daze.

“Hello?” Her voice was husky, laced with a soft petulance that sounded like coquettishness.

Le Yiqiu’s lips curved into a smile. Freshly woken Lin Xianing was irresistibly cute—cute enough to melt her heart.

“Lin Xianing?”

She called her name gently. “Got any schedules today? Want to sleep more? I can just watch you like this. Won’t hang up.”

Lin Xianing mumbled something incoherent.

Le Yiqiu didn’t press. She simply gazed at Lin Xianing’s sleepy face on the screen.

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to hold her.

After about five minutes, Lin Xianing slowly opened her eyes. She looked straight at the screen and sighed in relief when she saw the call was still connected.

“My schedule’s this afternoon. I’m all yours this morning.”

Lin Xianing had been run ragged lately, heading out early and coming home late. A half-day off was a rare treat.

Le Yiqiu propped her phone on its stand and sprawled on the sofa. “Great. I’m about to shower—gonna keep me company?”

Lin Xianing: “…You’re incorrigible.”

“How am I incorrigible?”

Le Yiqiu chuckled lightly as a flush crept over Lin Xianing’s cheeks.

The woman couldn’t handle a little teasing. One offhand comment, and she’d blush like mad.

She’d grown bolder since those early shy days. Teasing Lin Xianing came easily now, without making her own face heat up. But Lin Xianing was still so easily flustered.

“Le Yiqiu?” Lin Xianing called out, deftly changing the subject. “How’s work?”

Le Yiqiu’s lips quirked in amusement as she played along. “Not bad. I’m overseeing B Group’s shoots now.”

Teacher Tu’s movie—titled Second World—was set in a real world ravaged by overdevelopment. The planet’s biggest gaming company had created a second one.

Players could enter the game, tweak their pain settings, customize their appearance to match reality or not. It was a playground for the rich.

Though it was virtual, diving in with your consciousness felt no different from stepping in bodily.

The Second World used the same currency as the real one.

It blended countless elements: Eastern cultivation, Western magic, dragons, demons, vampires, and more.

Vast and intricate, it was a world few directors could wrangle. But Tu Sheng wasn’t just any director.

In the film, the protagonist was an ordinary schlub from the real world—a poor one at that. He won a game helmet in a lottery and dove in.

How did a regular guy without spending a dime climb to the top—to become king of the Second World, and by extension, the real one?

Teacher Tu said it was the first in a series.

Le Yiqiu’s B Group handled stunt work mostly—ensuring the action was crisp and seamless, no goofs.

Teacher Tu occasionally tossed her other tasks, like shooting extras or bit players.

Especially the epic, sweeping scenes. Her first time tackling those taught her a ton.

Working under Tu Sheng showed her how much she still had to learn.

By the time When Flowers Fall wrapped, her directing skills would be sharper than ever.

“Director Le is amazing,” Lin Xianing said with a squinting smile, teasing, “When will Director Le consider casting me as your leading lady?”

“Next film.”

Lin Xianing had been joking, but Le Yiqiu’s answer was dead serious.

She’d actually been mulling it over: a movie tailored for Lin Xianing, no romance subplot. Just a seed of an idea for now. She’d write the script properly after When Flowers Fall.

Lin Xianing blinked, then grinned. “Sounds good. I’ll be waiting.”

They didn’t mention Xie Dan. Some things went without saying—they both knew.

No need to waste their precious time together on someone irrelevant.

It was a rare stretch of hours they could spend with each other. Even in silence, just watching the other go about their day, brought joy.

Le Yiqiu fixed dinner while Lin Xianing stepped away to wash up and change. The occasional slap of slippers echoed, a reminder she was still there.

They each did their own thing, chatting whenever something came to mind, then diving back in.

They’d been keeping each other company for so long, yet when the call finally ended, a pang of loneliness hit—eager for the day they could meet, embrace for real.