A Washed-up Movie Queen's Divorce Strategy [Rebirth] - Chapter 20

As Ji Chenli and Feng Cai stepped outside the lounge, they found that everyone in the crew had stopped working. The equipment had been moved to the storage room, and several medium-sized vehicles were parked in the open space. People were busily unloading things from the trucks: grills, charcoal, racks, as well as various beverages, alcohols, and ingredients. They had even managed to erect a semi-open temporary tent out of thin air! Inside, it was fully equipped with pots, pans, and ladles—practically a mini-kitchen. Two men who looked like chefs were inside; one was slicing a fruit platter while the other was preparing various pastries.

Ji Chenli had seen crews take an occasional break to have fun, but she had never encountered such a massive display on a film set. She looked around and spotted Ming Lang under the shade of a nearby tree, along with Fang Shi, who was talking to her animatedly. Fang Shi looked agitated, her neck turning red as she spoke, but Ming Lang remained unmoved.

A lighting technician carrying charcoal happened to pass by Ji Chenli. She stopped him and asked, “Master Zhao, everyone looks so busy and lively. Is it really a holiday today?”

“You bet!” Filming was grueling work; the crew had been working non-stop for days, and most people were exhausted. Suddenly getting a break like this felt like a massive weight had been lifted. Master Zhao continued forward with the charcoal, but hearing it was Ji Chenli calling him, he set the load down, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and chuckled. “Miss Ji, we’re all basking in your light here. Hehe, I wish you and President Ming a long and happy marriage!”

The words entered Ji Chenli’s ears like a needle; no matter how she heard it, it felt uncomfortable. However, she couldn’t snap at an outsider, so she could only manage a smile and reply. She then asked, “Master Zhao, what are Director Fang and President Ming doing? They aren’t fighting, are they? Look at how red their faces are.”

Master Zhao glanced toward Ming Lang and Fang Shi and laughed. “President Ming said we’re taking a day off, but Director Fang disagreed, saying the cameras were already set up. President Ming just had her people dismantle the equipment. So, a dispute broke out. Director Fang is young and quite stubborn. You’d think that since President Ming is the big boss paying for everything and she doesn’t care about the cost, what is there for a hired hand to worry about?” As he spoke, Master Zhao remembered that the person in front of him was President Ming’s legally wedded wife. Realizing he might have said too much about President Ming, he coughed and quickly made an excuse to get back to work.

Ji Chenli looked at the two arguing under the tree—strictly speaking, it was Fang Shi venting her dissatisfaction while Ming Lang listened with poise. However, Ming Lang’s brow was gradually furrowing, and a look of impatience appeared on her face; her patience was likely at its end. Fang Shi and Ji Chenli got along well, and Ji Chenli didn’t want her to provoke Ming Lang with her stubbornness, so she hurried over to mediate. “Director Fang, so here you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Fang Shi was in the heat of her anger, and being interrupted like this, she turned around ready to snap. Seeing it was Ji Chenli, she froze, suppressed her temper with effort, and said awkwardly, “Sister Chenli, is something wrong?”

“Nothing much. I wanted to discuss the script with you, but if you’re busy, never mind.”

At the mention of work, Fang Shi forgot about arguing with Ming Lang and replied immediately, “I have time.” She looked at the chaotic crowd around them and added, “It’s not convenient here. Let’s go to the lounge.”

“Sure,” Ji Chenli said.

At the mention of the lounge, Ming Lang’s eyes flickered. She and Ji Chenli spoke almost simultaneously: “No!”

Fang Shi had already started walking toward the lounge with Ji Chenli. Hearing Ming Lang’s voice, she stopped and turned to look at her in confusion. “Does President Ming have something else?” Because her work had been interrupted, she was still holding a grudge; her tone was none too pleasant.

Ming Lang took a long stride and stepped between Ji Chenli and Fang Shi, separating the two whose arms were almost touching. She grabbed Ji Chenli’s wrist and said, “Talk here.”

Fang Shi was already resentful of Ming Lang—an outsider—interfering with her work schedule. Hearing her give more nonsensical orders, she could no longer hold back. “President Ming, what do you mean by repeatedly interfering with my work? If you think I’m incompetent as a director, you can find someone else. Is there any need to target me like this?”

Ji Chenli sighed inwardly, thinking: She isn’t targeting you; she’s clearly targeting me. Feeling a twinge of guilt for letting Fang Shi take the heat, Ji Chenli put on a fawning smile and apologized to Fang Shi, “Director, well… it’s a holiday today. Let’s not talk about work. I’ll find you tomorrow about the script.”

“No, what needs to be said today must be said today!” Fang Shi looked at Ming Lang indignantly. “Is being a President that great? A President can’t delay someone’s work!”

Standing right next to Ming Lang, Ji Chenli could feel the muscles in Ming Lang’s arm beginning to tense. She cursed Fang Shi for being a “clueless ancestor” and, annoyed that every director she met was unreliable, she gritted her teeth and used her final trump card. She wrapped both hands around Ming Lang’s elbow, pressing her body intimately against the other’s arm, and gave an embarrassed laugh. “Director, you know about my relationship with Ming… Ming Lang… I haven’t seen Ming… my A-Lang for so many days. You… have to give us some time to catch up, right?”

In her previous life, Ji Chenli had always called her “President Ming” or “Ming Lang”; she had never called her by her name so intimately. After saying it, she was the first to cringe, her skin crawling with goosebumps. She forced a sweet, cloying smile onto her face. She didn’t dare look at Ming Lang, but she could feel Ming Lang’s burning gaze fixed entirely on her.

Fang Shi looked at the huddled pair with a strange expression. As if to declare her sovereignty, Ming Lang even wrapped her arm around Ji Chenli’s waist and raised a provocative eyebrow at Fang Shi. Only then did Fang Shi remember—right, although Ji Chenli never mentioned it, she and Ming Lang were legally married partners and were currently in the “honeymoon” phase, a time of peak intimacy. Otherwise, why would a busy person like Ming Lang take the time to visit the set?

Fang Shi thought about the time she had spent with Ji Chenli. She felt they got along well; after work, they would find a small shop to drink and eat skewers, talking about everything. Fang Shi had thought they were best friends who shared everything, but now she realized Ji Chenli had never told her anything about herself. It was always Fang Shi talking and Ji Chenli listening, offering advice at the right moments. From that perspective, their friendship wasn’t actually that deep. With that thought, Fang Shi’s momentum to argue with Ming Lang weakened.

“Then you two take your time. I’ll go see if there’s anything over there that needs help,” Fang Shi mumbled with her head down and trudged away.

While Ji Chenli was distracted talking to Fang Shi, Ming Lang leaned in close to her ear to catch the scent of her skin. Her hand was still resting on Ji Chenli’s waist. Beneath the loose school uniform was a supple waistline. In this life, Ji Chenli hadn’t planned on staying in the entertainment industry, so she hadn’t been as diligent about fitness and maintenance as in her previous life. Due to the lack of exercise, a thin layer of fat had grown on her waist; through the uniform, it felt soft and squishy to the touch. Ming Lang’s grip instinctively tightened a few degrees.

Just as she was about to lean in even closer, she heard Ji Chenli say coldly: “Let go.”