A Washed-up Movie Queen's Divorce Strategy [Rebirth] - Chapter 21

Ming Lang looked at Ji Chenli’s profile, meeting her cold gaze. It was as if she had discovered something amusing; the corners of her mouth curled up in a teasing smirk. “I’m already your ‘A-Lang,’ what’s the harm in a little hug?” As she spoke, she pushed her luck further, her hand giving Ji Chenli’s waist a squeeze. Ji Chenli didn’t waste words; taking advantage of Ming Lang’s lack of focus, she lifted her foot and stepped hard on Ming Lang’s instep.

“Hiss—” Ji Chenli hadn’t held back her strength. Ming Lang hissed as she sucked in a breath of cold air, complaining with a pained face, “Chenli, I’m your wife…”

Ji Chenli almost choked on her own saliva. “Ming Lang, have you been possessed by some demon or ghost?”

“Hmm?” Ming Lang clearly didn’t understand the implication.

“You’re acting like a mental patient.” Feeling the grip on her waist loosen, Ji Chenli broke free from her embrace.

“…” Ming Lang gave a couple of dry coughs, her expression returning to normal. “Let’s go. I specifically brought a chef over from Mongolia; his skill with whole roasted lamb is top-notch. You should try some later.” Ming Lang thought about how Ji Chenli’s hand felt when she’d touched it earlier—even for winter, it seemed far too cold. Mutton was warming and nourishing; it was the perfect time to eat it.

The spot where Ji Chenli and Ming Lang stood wasn’t particularly secluded, and people passing by could see them. Since these people loved to gossip in private, Ji Chenli didn’t want to cause a scene with Ming Lang and give them more to talk about. She had no choice but to follow Ming Lang to help out.

In truth, Ji Chenli didn’t like mutton; she couldn’t stand the gamey smell. People said fish and lamb combined to create “freshness,” but to Ji Chenli, one was fishy and the other was pungent. She couldn’t even stand the smell, let alone the taste. However, she knew Ming Lang loved mutton, especially mutton soup. After cleaning the blood away, the soup would be simmered over a low flame for several hours. The resulting broth was clear in color but rich in flavor. Back when Ji Chenli had nothing to do, she had tried to learn how to make it—she’d stewed it while holding her nose, only to find the whole house reeking of mutton for four or five days afterward.

As for that pot of soup, she had eventually poured it out. In the Ming household, Ji Chenli rarely saw Ming Lang except on holidays. In the early years of their marriage, it was common not to see her for months. At that time, Ji Chenli was gradually fading out of the entertainment industry; left alone in that massive mansion, she had to find little things to do to pass the time, and all her “fun” seemed to revolve around Ming Lang.

“Watch out!” While Ji Chenli was lost in her memories, Ming Lang suddenly grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back two steps. Ji Chenli’s back bumped into Ming Lang’s chest, snapping her back to reality. She realized there was a lamppost right in front of her; one more step and she would have walked straight into it.

Ji Chenli looked a bit embarrassed and quickly pulled away from Ming Lang. “Th… thanks.”

Ming Lang said with a smile, “What were you thinking about so intently?”

“Nothing,” Ji Chenli replied seriously.

They hadn’t walked far before they reached the area where everyone was setting up tables and grills. Tables and chairs were already in place; some people were helping to skewer meat, while a crowd had gathered around another table, seemingly in the middle of an exciting game of poker or something similar.

Feng Cai was among them. She was one of the players, gesturing wildly as she spoke. At an intense moment, she caught sight of Ji Chenli out of the corner of her eye and waved excitedly. “Sister Chenli, I’m over here! Come quick!”

Feng Cai grinned so wide her two rows of white teeth flashed brightly, her eyes narrowing into slits. Infected by her smile, Ji Chenli’s mood improved considerably. She quickened her pace and walked over to Feng Cai, perking up. “Coming!”

Just as she reached Feng Cai, she heard her say solemnly, “I’m a power role. This round, I’m coming for whoever comes for me. Seer, you must check Number 5 next round. Pass.”

Seeing Ji Chenli arrive, Xiao Wei from the crew tactfully brought over two chairs and placed them next to Feng Cai. Ji Chenli thanked him and sat in the chair closer to Feng Cai, whispering in her ear, “Playing Werewolf?”

“You know it too, Sister Chenli?” Feng Cai kept one ear on the table’s discussion while whispering back, “Want to play a round with us next? You wouldn’t believe how popular this game is right now.”

“I’ll pass, you guys play.” Ji Chenli waved it off. She was no stranger to Werewolf; in her previous life, the game had suddenly exploded in popularity across the country, right around the time live-streaming became big. Several online platforms scrambled to produce Werewolf variety shows, and Ji Chenli had participated a few times to promote her movies. She was a “noob” who trusted people too easily and was often played for a fool at the table. However, she found it interesting to observe other players lying. After a game, when asked for her thoughts, she had laughed and said, “This game is a trial of human nature.”

Xiao Wei had brought two chairs. Ji Chenli originally thought he was going to sit down himself, but when Ming Lang sat down beside her, she realized—belatedly—why he had brought two.

Once the big boss sat down, the behavior at the table became much more disciplined. Those who had been cursing and swearing went silent; their speeches became as polite as well-behaved children’s. It was quite a sight.

After watching for a while, Ming Lang whispered in Ji Chenli’s ear, “Number 3, Number 7, and Number 9 are lying.”

Ji Chenli curled her lip. Number 9 had just claimed the Seer role in the previous speech, and Ji Chenli had been listening—he sounded very sincere. He didn’t look like he was lying at all. She remarked sarcastically, “Even the best horse trips sometimes.”

Perhaps because the atmosphere of the group was so good, the thick wall between Ji Chenli and Ming Lang seemed to thin slightly. Ming Lang was secretly happy about this change, though she kept a straight face and asked, “Am I that old?” (Translator’s note: Ji Chenli used a proverb containing the word “old” to refer to Ming Lang’s expertise).

Not understanding the context, Feng Cai assumed the couple was flirting. She chimed in, “Turns out all women are afraid of getting old, even President Ming is no exception.”

Ji Chenli kicked the leg of Feng Cai’s chair in annoyance. “Just play your game. It’s not your turn to speak, why are you interrupting?”

Feng Cai shrank back and focused on the game. Ji Chenli watched the entire match intently until the villagers were wiped out and the game ended. The werewolves were indeed 3, 7, and 9. Recalling her earlier mockery of Ming Lang, Ji Chenli felt a bit embarrassed.

While everyone was noisily reviewing the game like a busy marketplace, Ming Lang suddenly whispered in Ji Chenli’s ear amidst the chaos, “I’m not afraid of growing old.”

“I’m afraid of growing old alone.”

Ji Chenli turned her head in confusion, only to see something like sorrow in Ming Lang’s eyes.

“Hey, Sister Chenli, are you playing?” Feng Cai grabbed Ji Chenli’s wrist. Ji Chenli’s attention shifted back to her. She assumed Ming Lang was just acting profound and couldn’t be bothered with her. After a thought, she joined the fray. “I’m in! Xiao Cai, move over and sit next to me. You’re such a noob; let me show you how a pro plays!”

Since Ji Chenli had joined, it would be improper not to invite the big boss. However, with Ming Lang’s unapproachable aura, the group just looked at each other, not daring to speak. Finally, someone brave tentatively asked, and to everyone’s surprise, Ming Lang actually agreed.

Because Ming Lang was the boss, no one dared to kill her when she was on the good side, and no one dared to investigate her when she was a werewolf. She won several games in a row, and the game gradually lost its excitement. It happened to be lunch time, so everyone went to eat barbecue, and the game session broke up.

As they were dispersing, Feng Cai was practically worshiping Ming Lang. “President Ming is a natural at Werewolf!”

Ji Chenli was dismissive. “She’s just relying on the fact that she’s the President and no one dares to kill her.”

Feng Cai shot Ji Chenli a look of disdain. “You have no room to talk, Sister Chenli. You’re just a noob like me.”

Ji Chenli: “…” Just you wait, little girl.

Eating and drinking continued into the afternoon. Satiated, Ji Chenli went for a walk to settle her stomach. She wandered behind a certain tent and overheard two men responsible for washing dishes gossiping.

“Hey, who said President Ming was bad to Ji Chenli? The rumors sounded so real, I almost believed them!”

“Bad? She’s practically spoiling her to the heavens, okay? Whenever there’s something good to eat or drink, she brings it to Ji Chenli immediately. She’s so attentive… she might as well tuck her in her pocket and carry her around! Have you ever seen President Ming like that?”

“I barely ever see her, so how would I know what she was like before? But she seems pretty cold to everyone else, right?”

“No wonder Xie Qinglan was exiled. Tsk tsk, you really shouldn’t offend someone that important. I don’t know who started those rumors; if someone treated me that ‘badly,’ I’d marry her in a heartbeat.”

“Pfft, you’re a guy. Dream on.”

“A guy… what’s wrong with being a guy?”

The conversation shifted to gender issues, which Ji Chenli found amusing. Two gossiping men had the nerve to look down on women; women were nowhere near as talkative as those two.

Ji Chenli stood there a while longer until a clatter came from the tent, sounding like a plate breaking, followed by silence. Listening closely, she heard the two men stammering, “P-P-President Ming…”

“Take the clean plates to the tent opposite.” This was Ming Lang’s voice, flat and calm, not sounding angry.

There was another flurry of clattering as the two men bolted, each carrying a stack of bowls. Ming Lang walked out of the tent, turned, and came face-to-face with Ji Chenli. She was holding a bowl containing soup; even from a distance, Ji Chenli could smell that it was mutton.

“Ming Lang, let’s not beat around the bush. I don’t want to play riddles with you anymore. What exactly do you want?” Ji Chenli asked, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

“It’s cold, and you’ve just recovered from a serious illness. Drink some soup to warm up.” Ming Lang handed the white porcelain bowl to Ji Chenli.

Ji Chenli glanced down at the soup. The broth was clear, with a few chopped scallions floating on top—white and green. Held in Ming Lang’s slender, elegant fingers, it looked like a dish from a royal banquet. But Ji Chenli let out two sarcastic laughs. “Ming Lang, do you know that mutton makes me vomit?”

Ming Lang clearly hadn’t expected this. She simply thought the soup was delicious and nourishing and wanted Ji Chenli to try it. She had never considered that something she liked might be something Ji Chenli disliked—or even loathed. She stood there holding the bowl, looking a bit at a loss, like a child who had made a mistake.

As they stood there in silence, Ji Chenli finally had enough. “If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.”

Then, Ming Lang’s voice came softly from behind her. “Today… is your birthday.”

Ji Chenli’s whole body jolted.