Substitute Lover [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 90

A cool breeze swept in, carrying the sound of the crashing waves.

The surrounding clamor seemed to distort into static; her ears were left with nothing but those three words.

Three short words.

Jiang Cha’s eyes widened instantly.

On the shore, a speaker hidden among the tree branches began to play a song.

The piano intro sounded like pebbles dropping into water—soft and slow.

I Love You—

A tender, lingering female voice with a slightly raspy texture, like waves rolling in with a mixture of sand and grit, impacting steadily and gently.

This song was played at a very appropriate time, yet also a very inappropriate one.

Saying those words seemed to have exhausted all of Ji Fan’s courage. The song acted like a recorder, constantly replaying those three words she had just uttered, repeating them over and over. Light scattered by her ear; her fair, jade-like earlobe was already flushed deep crimson, and her cheeks steamed as if they had been scorched by the sun.

Yet, Jiang Cha gave her no response at all.

Jiang Cha simply stared at her, her amber eyes clear, holding a hint of disbelief and a trace of an indiscernible smile.

“……”

Jiang Cha’s gaze was complex. Ji Fan took only one look before turning her head away.

Her heart hammered in a frantic, messy rhythm.

Why isn’t she saying anything?

Why is her expression so cold?

In that instant, all sorts of thoughts flashed through her mind.

Was I just… being sentimental on my own?

The heat on Ji Fan’s face receded rapidly, her cheeks returning to a bloodless chill, turning even a bit pale.

“How about… we go back to the hotel?”

Ji Fan tentatively reached for Jiang Cha’s hand.

Jiang Cha moved almost imperceptibly, dodging the touch.

Ji Fan fell back into silence.

On the road, a couple was arguing. One person asked the other with tear-filled eyes whether they only agreed to be together out of sympathy and pity.

As they walked further away, the conversation became inaudible.

Sympathy, pity.

Ji Fan pursed her lips slightly.

Thinking about it this way, she remembered that Jiang Cha had expressed her feelings many years ago. Recently, Jiang Cha had stopped mentioning those things; instead, she had emphasized that she no longer felt anything.

She had thrown away the flowers Ji Fan sent.

She had sold the house they once lived in together.

When signing the divorce papers, she had done so nonchalantly, without a hint of lingering attachment.

Clean and decisive.

Was that it? Is that why she can’t respond?

By the time they reached the hotel, Ji Fan’s fingertips were ice-cold, and her palms were slick with a cold sweat, to the point that she fumbled while holding the room key card.

Ji Fan even felt a surge of regret and self-blame. She thought things could return to how they were before, but she had forgotten that the only reason Jiang Cha stayed was because of a head injury sustained while protecting her and a bout of amnesia. She was merely relying on a sense of pity that anyone would have.

Sympathy, pity.

Why did she still expect Jiang Cha to reciprocate?

Why did she say that embarrassing sentence out loud?

Ji Fan opened the door quietly. Jiang Cha also seemed preoccupied.

The curtains were open, making the room bright; outside the floor-to-ceiling window was a vast, deep blue sea. Bright light fell on the beige fabric sofa. Jiang Cha placed her bag on the sofa and took out a towel and pajamas from the lit wall cabinet.

She put on her slippers, looking like she was ready to shower.

Ji Fan had waited the whole way back.

Jiang Cha still hadn’t responded.

Ji Fan sat silently on the sofa, her raven-feather eyelashes cast downward.

“Ji Fan.”

Jiang Cha suddenly stopped before entering the bathroom.

Ji Fan looked up abruptly.

“What did you say back there on the shore?”

Jiang Cha’s snow-white profile was faintly flushed. Her long hair was tied up in a dark bun at the back of her head, and the crimson flush spread all the way down her jade-like neck.

She lowered her chin, appearing somewhat nervous: “Just the last sentence.”

Ji Fan: “?”

“Say it one more time.”

Jiang Cha pursed her red lips, appearing shy and rather embarrassed: “The wind was strong; I didn’t hear clearly.”

“You really didn’t hear?”

Jiang Cha nodded.

Ji Fan: “……”

She pursed her lips, not expecting this development at all.

Ji Fan relaxed her tense body slightly, looking at her as if in disbelief:

“We were so close; you didn’t hear a thing?”

“I heard a little bit… but there were so many people, and the music was loud. I didn’t hear it clearly.”

Jiang Cha held her snow-white, cross-collared pajamas to her chest, asking tentatively: “It was something very important, right?”

Ji Fan sighed softly.

She let out a long breath of relief.

Suddenly, her whole body felt at ease.

She stood up, walked over, wrapped her arms around Jiang Cha’s slender waist, lowered her head, and gently kissed her fair forehead: “Then I’ll say it again.”

She kissed Jiang Cha’s ear and, like a murmur, said it once more.

After finishing, she waited quietly for Jiang Cha’s response.

Jiang Cha pursed her lips hard.

After a long while, she finally couldn’t hold it in and broke into a smile.

“Haha…”

Jiang Cha bent over laughing.

Ji Fan froze for a few seconds before finally reacting.

What ‘didn’t hear clearly’? She was faking it.

She had almost forgotten Jiang Cha’s profession—an actress. A future Best Actress, at that. How hard could it be to act like she didn’t hear?

Jiang Cha laughed uncontrollably: “I still didn’t hear it. What did you say?”

“……”

Jiang Cha leaned in, pressing against her ear, exhaling softly:

“Say that sentence one more time, or it’ll be voided—I’ll treat it as if I never heard it.”

Ji Fan glanced at her. Jiang Cha’s expression was perfectly innocent, so she had no choice but to lean into Jiang Cha’s ear again and whisper: “I like you. I love you.”

A surge of heat spread from the soles of her feet, steaming her cheeks into a scalding flush.

Jiang Cha’s long eyelashes blinked.

Suppressing the frantic pounding of her heart, she continued:

“Still didn’t hear clearly.”

“……”

Ji Fan’s fingertips curled. She gave her a faint look, took her hand, and pressed her red lips against Jiang Cha’s, silencing the endless teasing.

……

A room full of lingering romance.

Morning. Outside the Palais des Festivals in Cannes, countless reporters with cameras on their shoulders waited in anticipation.

A black business van pulled up at the edge of the red carpet. Countless photographers in black suits stood on both sides, lenses aimed at the car door. A man in a suit approached slowly, his white-gloved hand on the rear door. He bowed politely and opened the door.

Flashes went off one after another.

Black diamond-studded high heels landed gracefully. Exquisite ankles, slender white arches, toes pink and clean. Under the gaze of countless lenses, Jiang Cha ducked slightly and stepped out of the car.

Jiang Cha walked down the red carpet with a calm expression, moving at an unhurried pace.

Click—

The frame froze.

In a custom-made gown by Alessandro Michele, the upper half was black while the back featured pale gold embroidery. The skirt flared out wide, airy and light; with every step, it looked like flowing gold dust. She had her dark hair pinned up, her slender swan neck strikingly beautiful. With her cool-toned makeup paired with bright vermilion lips, she was overwhelmingly dazzling as she lowered her head or looked up.

The reporters almost held their breath, instinctively zooming in to take facial close-ups.

They even forgot that the primary target for snapshots on this red carpet was supposedly the award-winning actress, Luo Yan.

The main crew, including the producer, director, and lead actors, gathered at the center of the red carpet.

Jiang Cha walked over to Song Baiwei’s side, and the two shared a smile.

Like a lost lamb finally finding its flock, Jiang Cha’s slightly tensed back finally relaxed after that smile.

Flashes came from all directions.

Just then, another car pulled up.

The moment the woman stepped out, the entire venue seemed to erupt. The flashes were incredibly dense, like spotlights converging entirely on her.

Luo Yan.

After all, she was a multi-time Best Actress winner.

She was widely considered the most likely candidate for Best Actress in this main competition. It was better to take more photos now; once the results were out, it would be easier to write the press releases.

The red carpet walk lasted only a few minutes. Once it ended, reporters from various entertainment outlets swarmed in, surrounding everyone tightly.

However, compared to Luo Yan, who was mobbed by the media, the area around Jiang Cha was rather quiet.

“Excuse me, Best Actress Luo, are you confident about winning this time?”

“Best Actress, your red carpet look is somewhat similar to Jiang Cha’s. Was this intentional?”

“This is Chenguang Entertainment. Luoluo, you and Jiang Cha are both nominated in the main competition. Who do you think is more likely to win?”

The questions became more and more pointed.

Luo Yan smiled gracefully: “There’s no need to take the results so seriously. Acting is a process of learning from each other and progressing together.”

After she finished speaking, her gaze turned toward Jiang Cha.

The two were very close; whatever was said on one side could be heard by the other.

The first few questions for Jiang Cha were similar, and the last question was almost identical.

“Excuse me, Chacha, do you have the confidence to be named Best Actress?”

As soon as this question was asked, some reporters couldn’t hold it back and lowered their heads, chuckling secretly.

How could it be possible?

If she were the Best Actress, this year’s Cannes would definitely be considered subpar.

This interview was merely a formality.

Jiang Cha, however, remained very steady, without a hint of the embarrassment of being mocked.

She looked up into the lens, her red lips curving into a poised smile: “One should always have confidence.”

She didn’t give a vague official answer, nor did she dodge the question.

Her expression was so serious that the reporters who were chuckling were momentarily stunned.

Jiang Cha seemed… a bit different from what they had imagined.

Taking advantage of that stunned gap, Jiang Cha pushed through the crowd and walked away.

Outside the Palais des Festivals, a black car was parked. The windows were a semi-transparent light black, vaguely reflecting a woman’s exquisite and elegant profile. Her slightly curled hair fell around her temples, her nose bridge was high, and the bright pendant by her ear caught the light. Her silhouette was as beautiful as a pen-and-ink drawing—sharp and capable.

The bodyguard behind her bowed slightly and opened the door. Jiang Cha ducked into the car.

The car door closed, and they drove forward through the dense crowd.

“The film festival lasts two weeks. the winners will be announced at the closing ceremony,” Yang Yan instructed her.

“Understood.”

“We don’t have much to do in the meantime; we can just wander around.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, right. There will be some reporters coming for exclusive interviews. Keep your answers official and a bit vague. Don’t let people pick faults.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“By the way, regarding that interview just now, did you say what I told you to? Don’t be too honest; don’t just answer whatever people ask.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Jiang Cha nodded.

Yang Yan noticed with quite a headache that from the moment Jiang Cha got into the car, her attention hadn’t been on her. No matter what she said, it went in one ear and out the other.

She was only looking at Ji Fan in the front.

From the moment she entered the car, Ji Fan had been excessively quiet.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Ji Fan tilted her head slightly, her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed as if she were trying hard to identify something.

“What’s wrong?”

Jiang Cha sat behind her, leaning forward, her cool fingers gently stroking Ji Fan’s neck: “What are you looking at?”

Ji Fan turned her head, looking at her intently: “Someone is following us.”