Substitute Lover [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 48

The long road was lined with cherry blossoms in full bloom, their branches laden with flowers and creating a beautiful, almost painted scene against the sky.

The car came to a steady stop downstairs. Ji Fan closed the car door and pulled her black coat a little tighter, feeling a bit chilly. It was strange how illness worked. She only had a headache, but it felt like the pain was spreading throughout her entire body.

She was afraid of the wind.

She was afraid of the heat.

Everything felt wrong all at once.

Ji Fan sighed. The elevator door opened and closed. As she walked down the hallway, she could smell a fragrant aroma.

It was the smell of soup.

Her mother had loved to make soup too. In Southern families, people preferred light flavors, avoiding spicy and oily foods. Their only indulgence was soup.

Was it kelp and pork bone soup, carrot and corn soup, or yam and mushroom soup?

Ji Fan opened the door with her key.

A middle-aged woman wearing an apron came out and smiled warmly when she saw her.

“Xiao Ji is back?”

Ji Fan hung her bag on the coat rack and smiled softly.

“Chacha said you had a cold. I made you some soup to ward off the chill.”

She turned around and ladled a bowl of soup, placing it on the dining table. It was still steaming.

“Drink a little and see if it’s the right temperature.”

Jiang Cha’s father was sitting on the sofa reading the newspaper. He looked up at them and muttered, “She’s too spoiled.”

Ji Fan heard him but didn’t mind. She smiled faintly. “Thank you, Mom.”

“Where’s Jiang Cha?”

Ji Fan sat down. Her long, thick eyelashes were dark and bright from the mist.

“She’s upstairs. I’ll call her down.”

“It’s okay. Let her be busy.”

“Where have she been so busy? Chatting with her old classmate for so long!”

Mother Jiang put the white porcelain soup spoon in the bowl and looked up. “Chacha, stop chatting and come down for dinner.”

Ji Fan was slightly startled.

Old classmate?

Chatting?

Could it be who she was thinking of?

The room was very quiet, with only the faint sound of the kitchen range hood and the sound of Jiang Cha’s father turning the pages of the newspaper.

“Actually, we’ve been here for quite a while.”

“Hmm?”* Ji Fan raised her eyes in surprise.

“We still have some things to do at home, so we’ll probably have to go back soon.”

“Will you come back when you do?”

Jiang Yuanwen smiled:

“Your dad and I are afraid we’ll disturb you.”

Ji Fan instinctively wanted to keep them, but she was never good at saying such things, so she just looked at her quietly, a subtle emotion flashing in her eyes.

She had been taking her medicine regularly these past few days, and her condition had indeed improved a lot.

The sudden blindness had hardly occurred, but she still had some headaches, and the pain came on suddenly, sharp as a needle, and passed as quickly as lightning each time.

More than the pain itself, it was the uncertainty that made her anxious.

It was like a giant stone hanging over her head, heavy and ready to fall at any moment.

When Ji Fan first fell ill, she had been a bit conflicted about whether or not to have surgery. Now that her condition had improved, she was even more certain that as long as she could maintain it with medication, she would definitely not have surgery.

She hated hospitals.

When her mother had been in a car accident, Ji Fan had sat in the hospital corridor all night, her eyes wide open, afraid to miss any news.

But in the end, her mother had passed away.

She had experienced that kind of despair.

Brain surgery was no joke.

If something went wrong, what would happen to Jiang Cha?

She used to have nothing to cling to, but now she suddenly had something more. It felt strange, but also incredibly soft.

Ji Fan lowered her eyes, and her long, thick eyelashes trembled.

No matter what, even if she did have to go under the knife, it would have to wait until a year later.

After dinner, Jiang Cha went upstairs again.

Ji Fan followed.

“That is…”

A voice asked softly from behind.

Jiang Cha was slightly startled and turned to look at her.

Ji Fan’s face was a little pale, and her long eyelashes trembled nervously, as if she wanted to ask something.

“Were you chatting with a friend just now?”

She asked casually.

“Yeah.”

Jiang Cha turned around, feeling a bit bored, as if she was looking for something to say.

“Did you have a good time?”

Ji Fan asked again.

Jiang Cha replied indifferently, “It was okay.”

Then Ji Fan didn’t say anything.

Jiang Cha found it strange and turned around to see Ji Fan leaning against the door frame, her eyes a little vacant.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Jiang Cha couldn’t help but ask, “Does your head still hurt from your cold?”

Ji Fan lowered her head, her face a little pale, and she didn’t speak.

“Did you take your medicine?”

Ji Fan shook her head.

Jiang Cha turned around and took a packet of Banlangen (a traditional Chinese medicine) from under the coffee table. “I bought it not long after we moved. Take some.”

Ji Fan shook her head. “No need. My headache is much better.”

Although she said it was much better, Jiang Cha didn’t quite believe her, but she didn’t continue to ask. If she continued to ask, it would seem like she couldn’t let go of the past. It was too clingy, not good.

She could love or not love.

She would never be pathetic.

Jiang Cha stuffed the medicine in without saying much.

••••

Jiang Cha had gone to take a shower, but her computer was still on, the screen glowing.

The light-colored desk was facing away from the bathroom door. If one were to sneak a peek, they could easily be caught if they weren’t quick enough. But Jiang Cha had only just entered the bathroom. She always treated showering as a kind of indulgence. When she was in a good mood, she would even hum a tune while scrubbing herself with shower gel, bath salts, and a bunch of other care products. It would take her at least half an hour to shower, and she wouldn’t come out that quickly.

Ji Fan lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering. She moved hesitantly towards the laptop.

Her QQ account was still logged in, and several small icons were blinking.

Actually, when they were in college, they used QQ frequently. After they started working, they switched to WeChat.

There was an interesting difference between the South and the North: students from coastal areas in the South were accustomed to communicating with each other using WeChat, while those from the North used QQ. Jiang Cha and she had often chatted on QQ when they were in college, and they also liked to visit each other’s spaces and leave comments.

Before she met Jiang Cha, Ji Fan had always set her space to be visible only to herself. She was used to hiding her true self. But later, she couldn’t resist Jiang Cha’s persistence, so she changed it to be visible to both of them. Jiang Cha seemed to treat this as a special favor and even recorded it seriously in her posts.

Ji Fan scrolled through Jiang Cha’s QQ, clicking on any suspicious-looking profile pictures—collarbone photos, hand photos, or anime girl avatars—and then analyzing the chat history that hadn’t been deleted yet.

She eliminated each one.

In the blink of an eye, she had gone through almost all the social contacts on her list.

Then she found someone with the nickname “Mu Bai.”

The profile picture was a rabbit.

Ji Fan’s face turned pale. For a moment, she didn’t know what to think. Her eyes were fixed on the icon, but her fingers were trembling, and several times she didn’t dare to click on it.

Mu Bai.

Bai.

Why was the nickname this?

How special.

How ambiguous.

The bedroom door was suddenly knocked a few times, and Jiang Cha’s mother’s voice asked softly from outside, “I cut some watermelon. It’s so sweet. Come and try it.”

Jiang Cha replied from the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower—”

Ji Fan calmed her agitated heart and opened the door. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ji Fan placed the fruit plate gently on the desk. As she passed the bathroom door, she asked softly, “How much longer are you going to take?”

“Almost done.”

A vague reply came from inside.

When Jiang Cha said “almost done,” it meant at least half of it was still unfinished.

If she said “done,” it would mean about ten more minutes.

Ji Fan’s expression calmed slightly, and she sat down. Then, with a slight tremble of her finger, she clicked on the person’s profile picture.

But it was empty.

There were two possibilities:

Jiang Cha had chatted with her, but the content was ambiguous and she had deleted it.

Or, Jiang Cha hadn’t talked to her at all.

Ji Fan remembered the “good night” she had heard in the voice message that night.

She frowned and then clicked on Bai Yihan’s space.

She scrolled down one by one, and there were no likes from Jiang Cha.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

The sound of the shower came from the bathroom again, splashing loudly. She knew Jiang Cha wouldn’t be done so soon, so she continued to look, and casually clicked on the visitor records.

Among the many records, Ji Fan immediately saw Jiang Cha’s.

Many times.

Just a few days ago.

Her lips turned pale, and her heart raced. For a moment, she had some bad guesses.

She carefully exited the chat interface and then sat down on the bed lightly.

She took out her phone and sent what had just happened to Xu Qingzhu.

She desperately wanted someone to tell her: It’s nothing. She was just overthinking.

Her phone buzzed.

Xu Qingzhu sent her a sad and helpless panda head emoji: [Judging from the current situation, you seem to have fallen out of favor.]

Ji Fan: “…..”

Xu Qingzhu thought she wouldn’t reply, but after a while, Ji Fan sent her a crying emoji.

It was still a cute one.

A stick figure was squatting there drinking to drown her sorrows, tears streaming down her face: [Cheating women are all cheaters]

Xu Qingzhu was full of question marks.

After a while, she slapped her forehead and realized.

Ji Fan’s emojis were probably stolen from Jiang Cha.

That was too funny.