Isn't This a Contract Marriage? Why Are You Sneaking Kisses! - Chapter 11

“But you’re aware of the current state of public opinion. This film has been in preparation for five years; we truly cannot afford any complications.”

The older man sat in his office chair, possessor of an ordinary face but a hardened temperament born of long-held authority. The eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses were cold and detached, and his gentle words carried an underlying pressure that brooked no resistance.

“Can you understand that?”

Shen Silie nodded silently. “I understand.”

Hearing this, Shi Xu narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled. “Of course, you needn’t worry. The internet changes quickly. People hate you now because of some misunderstandings, but they’ll forget after a while.”

As for how much his status would drop by then, or if anyone would even remember him, that was no longer within Shi Xu’s scope of concern.

“Don’t take it too much to heart. That’s just how this industry is—ebbs and flows. Who hasn’t been through it?”

Shi Xu’s gaze drifted slowly over Shen Silie’s face, waist, and thighs, his eyes darkening. He stood up, rounded the large redwood desk, and walked to Shen Silie’s side.

He reached out and patted the youth’s shoulder. The warmth of his palm seeped through the thin fabric into the skin in an ambiguous, brief stroke before he quickly pulled away.

Shen Silie’s body stiffened slightly but returned to normal almost instantly.

Shi Xu retracted his hand and walked to the window. Facing away from him, his tone suddenly became ethereal. “Actually, you are much more talented than Xiao Chu, and I appreciate you more.”

“It’s just that he is better at pleasing people—and he is more… sensible.”

Shi Xu squinted, speaking with cryptic intent: “In this circle, everyone huddles together for warmth. Being alone gets exhausting.”

“People climb upward while water flows downward. Everyone must learn to make certain compromises, mustn’t they?”

Inside the office, sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting mottled shadows that felt like tiny, jagged blades cutting against his skin.

Shen Silie’s fingers curled slightly, the tips touching the coolness of his palm. He lifted his head, his expression remarkably calm. “Thank you for the reminder, but I’m used to being alone.”

In contrast to his outward composure, Shen Silie’s voice was hoarse—low and soft, making one instinctively want to hear him make other sounds…

Shi Xu’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He leaned back against his chair, hands folded over his knees, a half-smile playing on his lips.

“Then I wish you a smooth journey in your career, even as a lone star.”

Ignoring the threat and mockery in Shi Xu’s words, Shen Silie turned and left.

Once Shen Silie’s back had completely disappeared from sight, the secretary who had been waiting outside entered. Shi Xu crossed his legs to mask a certain physical reaction.

The numbers in the elevator display descended slowly. Shen Silie leaned against the wall, raising a hand to rub his temples where the nerves were throbbing painfully.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to check; it was a message from his manager: [How did the talk with Mr. Shi go? Is the role still being recast?]

Shen Silie looked down, his thumb hovering over the screen for a few seconds. In the end, he didn’t reply.

With a ding, the elevator stopped on the twenty-seventh floor. The doors slid open to reveal an empty hall. Shen Silie stepped in and pressed the button for the first floor.

As the elevator plunged, the sensation of weightlessness made him feel dazed for a moment.

A few years ago, when he first stood before this building, he had entered the entertainment industry solely for the money.

Because of his outstanding looks and his breakout role as Xiao Li, he had received script after script. He was a complete novice with no formal training and no knowledge of acting theory; he relied entirely on a level of empathy that was far beyond the average person.

That talent was like a natural bridge, allowing him to walk into the soul of every character without obstacle.

He saw the world through the characters’ eyes and felt their surging love, bone-deep hatred, joy, sorrow, and even the agony of death as if they were part of his own lived experience.

A senior had once told him that this method of acting would lead to trouble sooner or later.

At the time, he only thought that since he had chosen this path—regardless of his initial reasons—he couldn’t let down the audience and fans who expected things of him.

He was Shen Silie, but he was also Xiao Li, and countless other names that existed and lived within the scripts. He truly loved those characters and those stories, whether they were whole or broken.

And now, one by one, the roles he had prepared for so long were being stripped away. It felt like a blunt knife sawing through flesh, severing the skin and the interconnected nerves still clinging to it.

The elevator stopped at the first floor. The moment the doors opened, a youth waiting outside froze, then quickly pulled a provocative smile onto his face.

“Oh, Silie. Long time no see.”

The youth wore a cream-white hoodie, his hair dyed a milky yellow. He had honey-colored contacts and peach-colored lip gloss—a sweet, innocent look, but the malice and inexplicable murkiness in his eyes were so dense they almost felt physical.

“Sigh, Mr. Shi gave me several scripts recently. I’m so busy I could die.”

“I really envy you, being able to be so… leisurely.” Lin Chu watched Shen Silie’s face closely as he spoke.

Shen Silie looked straight ahead and walked past Lin Chu without a word.

Having been completely ignored, the smile on Lin Chu’s face stiffened, and the muscles around his nose twitched involuntarily. Seeing the elevator doors about to close, Lin Chu shot a glare at Shen Silie’s retreating back, rolled his eyes, and hurried inside.

Shen Silie walked out of the building, putting on a mask to block out pollen and avoid unnecessary trouble.

His phone rang. He hesitated for two seconds before answering.

“Xiao Yue, how is the situation with the role?” his manager’s anxious voice came through.

Shen Silie exhaled, his voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation. “The same as before.”

The other end was silent for a few seconds. His manager sighed. “I understand. Don’t lose heart; I’ll try to find another way.”

“It’s spring. Remember to protect yourself.” Knowing her artist had weak lungs and a sensitive trachea, and that pollen would be everywhere during the spring bloom, she added the reminder.

“Okay. Thanks, Sis.” Shen Silie replied politely before hanging up.

The car drove into a bustling commercial district.

The phone vibrated again. The name “Fei the Troublemaker” flashed on the screen. Shen Silie glanced at the display and answered.

“Yue-Meow! It’s my mom’s birthday in a week. That painter you love, Ming Hua, has worked with my mom many times. She’s definitely coming—are you in?” Fei Qingya’s excited voice blasted through the receiver.

Shen Silie quickly pulled the phone away and lowered the volume.

“Yue-Meow, did you hear me? Ming Hua—she’s going to be there!” Fei Qingya repeated, drawing out her words.

Shen Silie rubbed his ear, still hesitating.

Fei Qingya added one more sentence: “No one from the Ji family will be attending this time.”

“I’ll be there,” Shen Silie answered.

“Hehe, great! I’ll pick out an outfit for you!”