Substitute Lover [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 45

The night was deep. Outside the window, an unknown insect chirped rhythmically, hidden in the grass. The fog was thick near the water. Only one lamp was lit in the room, casting a hazy yellow glow on the walls and blurring the shadows.

Ji Fan lay on the bed, slightly turned on her side, her long, curly hair draped over the pillow, revealing her profile. Her posture was a bit stiff, and the light softened her side profile, but there was a slight blush, perhaps from drinking.

Jiang Cha stood quietly a short distance away, her expression calm, almost as if she wanted to leave.

She didn’t want to stay here.

She didn’t want to be in the same room with Ji Fan.

As soon as she said this, Ji Fan froze for a moment but soon smiled again. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“…” Jiang Cha looked at her silently, saying nothing.

Ji Fan smiled and said, “No matter what I do, it’s wrong.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything,” Jiang Cha looked at her seriously, “I just don’t want to continue like this.”

Ji Fan sat silently in place and asked, “Why?”

“Why?”

Jiang Cha slowly bent down and sat beside the bed, smiling. “You really don’t know why?”

There was a taboo topic between them.

They avoided mentioning it, avoided breaking it, but both knew it.

In the past, Jiang Cha had been used as a substitute for someone else, and this was a thorn in their relationship, something that couldn’t be mentioned. If it was mentioned, it would hurt, and it would only push their relationship further apart. Ji Fan knew the seriousness of this situation, so she remained silent. But in her opinion, that was all in the past. Why couldn’t they let go of the past and start over?

“I’m sorry,” Ji Fan said softly, “What can I do to make you forgive me? Just say it, and I’ll do it.”

“It’s not about forgiveness,” Jiang Cha sighed softly, looking at her with a hint of pity. “I just… can’t find that feeling we had at the beginning.”

Jiang Cha lowered her eyes.

Ji Fan looked up at her, seemingly unable to understand what she was saying.

Under the dim light, Jiang Cha had a plain face, her long hair was incredibly soft, and it draped lightly over her waist, making her waist look slender and soft. She was wearing a cream-colored dress with a cinched waist, and her white legs were crossed one over the other.

Her expression was indifferent.

“I don’t love you as much anymore. I don’t want this anymore. That’s all.”

Ji Fan’s expression stiffened.

She closed her eyes, and scene after scene from the past flashed through her mind. She remembered the first time she saw Jiang Cha, when she was just a little girl, with her happiness and sadness written all over her face, her long eyelashes curled up like a doll’s.

She remembered Jiang Cha saying “I like you” in her ear.

She remembered so much.

Things she hadn’t cared much about before suddenly came back to her mind, but she was still a little dizzy and couldn’t sort out her thoughts.

Maybe it was true, some things, once missed, were gone forever, and there was no way to get them back.

Ji Fan turned over, her gaze fixed, and she turned her head silently.

“Yeah,” she murmured, “I was being delusional.”

The night was very quiet, except for the rabbit that was restless and kept patting on its cage.

Jiang Cha couldn’t bear it, so she squatted down and wanted to open the cage door to let it out. Then she heard Ji Fan say, “Leave it, it’s just hungry. The rabbit food is on the left. Just add a little.”

Jiang Cha saw the bag of rabbit food, a large bag with pictures of two rabbits sitting on the grass and some incomprehensible Japanese writing, colorful and eye-catching.

She gently opened the bag, scooped out a spoonful, and added it to the rabbit’s food bowl, making a rustling sound.

The rabbit food looked like long, compressed plant biscuits, with a mixture of hay and carrots.

Ji Fan found it a bit unsightly, but the rabbit was very cute.

She just squatted there, listening to the crisp sound of it chewing.

The two of them were silent, and there was only this crunching sound, which was very pleasant.

After a long while, Ji Fan sighed softly and said:

“I might not be able to see what you look like when you get old.”

“You won’t be able to see anyway.”

Jiang Cha smiled, “We’re getting divorced in a year. We’ll each go our own way. Have you forgotten?”

Divorce.

The word rolled around in her mind over and over again, divorce, divorce in a year.

Jiang Cha didn’t want her.

Nobody wanted her.

Everyone hated her.

Then she opened her eyes wide and lay stiffly on the bedhead, her face like a paper mask, lifeless, as if frozen in stone, only allowing the night wind to blow her hair.

Why? Why was there no room for forgiveness at all?

Ji Fan thought about it. She felt that during the time she had supported her, she had given her a full monthly allowance. In such a distorted yet undeniably existing employment relationship in society, as a “sugar mommy,” she didn’t seem to have done anything else wrong.

The mistake was that Jiang Cha liked her.

Yet she had used her as a substitute.

That alone seemed hurtful enough.

Ji Fan sighed softly.

She didn’t believe in fate.

But there seemed to be a strange force pushing her, making her lose one loved one after another.

Until she was left alone.

She wasn’t born naturally; she had suffered from lack of oxygen in the womb, resulting in a blood clot in her brain. When she was a teenager, her mother took her to the hospital for a check-up, and that’s when they discovered the problem. However, on the way home, she was too nervous and got into a car accident. Her mother died, and after her father remarried, no one took care of her, so the matter was gradually forgotten.

Including herself, she didn’t take it seriously.

The last time she was in Song Baiwei’s office, when Jiang Cha said a few words to her, she suddenly couldn’t see anything. For five or six seconds, there was only light in front of her eyes, and she couldn’t see anything.

At that time, she thought it was low blood sugar and didn’t pay much attention to it, but Xu Qingzhu persuaded her to go to the hospital.

The doctor’s expression was very serious, and he only asked her if she had any relatives or friends, saying that she should spend more time with them these few days to relieve her mood.

The test results hadn’t come out yet, but she was a little scared.

Scared of what?

She didn’t know either.

It was just that she subconsciously wanted to hide this matter and not let anyone know.

She definitely couldn’t let anyone know.

She was afraid that others would know that she was just a paper tiger who might collapse at any time; in that case, the position she had barely snatched from her brother would probably become unstable.

All she held in her hands were wealth and status; apart from that, she had nothing. In the past, she could still use these two things to make herself look glamorous and superior, but now, even her superficial prosperity was about to disappear.

She was also afraid that Jiang Cha would know.

She was afraid of being abandoned.

Although, it seemed that she had already been abandoned.

Ji Fan raised her hand, turned off the wall lamp, then pulled the quilt over herself and buried herself in it, whispering, “I’m going to sleep.”

Jiang Cha’s footsteps paused for a moment, then she heard Ji Fan gently remind her:

“The room next door has clean bedding.”

The night was very quiet. Perhaps because it was in the mountains, there was a sense of isolation and desolation, as if in the vast world, there were only these two people, and as far as the eye could see, there were only these two people.

The servants were not around at night, and the house was empty, like a haunted house. There were too many unknown places. Jiang Cha went to bed, but her mind was still in a mess. She felt that Ji Fan was acting a little strange today, and in fact, she had been acting a little strange since she left Song Baiwei’s office that day.

What was wrong? She couldn’t quite say.

Or maybe she was overthinking it?

She probably was overthinking it.

••••

In the morning, Jiang Cha went to the film crew, and Ji Fan went to the hospital.

The city hospital was as crowded as ever. She clutched her medical records and sat in front of the old expert, feeling a sense of dread.

The old expert had completely white hair, a rather plump figure, and a stern appearance. There were some wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and when he looked at people, he liked to squint his eyes, making the wrinkles even deeper. He was wearing a pair of metal square-framed glasses, and the glint of the metal made people feel cold.

“Intracerebral hemorrhage.”

The doctor opened her medical records, took a pen from the pocket of his white coat, and lowered his head to write on the records.

“How have you been feeling lately? Where does it hurt?”

“Dizzy, and sometimes headaches.”

“Have you been nauseous?”

“No.”

The doctor looked up and said, “The CT scan results from last time have come out. It’s a brain hemorrhage. Have you been in a car accident recently? Or what happened?”

A car accident?

She had been in a car accident before she got married, but it wasn’t serious. It probably didn’t have much of an impact.

Ji Fan was startled and said, “I’ve had it since I was a child. It was caused by a lack of oxygen in the womb. But I did have a minor car accident recently.”

“It might be that the two incidents combined have aggravated the original condition, and the area of the hemorrhage is a bit large.”

His voice was flat and it was difficult to tell how serious “serious” was. Ji Fan felt a little uncertain and could only listen quietly.

The doctor held the pen and scribbled on the paper, but she couldn’t understand what he was writing. He said expressionlessly, “There’s no immediate danger to your life, but there are too many uncertainties. I still recommend surgery. Although surgery has risks, it’s better than delaying it.”

When Ji Fan heard this, she felt relieved. “I don’t plan to have surgery for now. I’ll just take some medicine.”

“Not for now?”

The doctor smiled. “So when do you plan to have surgery?”

Ji Fan thought for a moment, “Probably in about a year.”

A year?

That’s too long.

The doctor looked up again and asked, “Where is your family?”

“They didn’t come.”

“Next time you come, at least bring a close relative with you so I can tell them to take care of you.”

Ji Fan turned her gaze to the window and said nothing.

After a while, she said to herself, as if to herself:
“I can take care of myself.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He simply prescribed some medicine for her and told her to go get it, and that was it.

Finally, he warned earnestly, “Take the medicine first. If you feel any discomfort after a course of treatment, come to the hospital as soon as possible, don’t delay.”