A Washed-up Movie Queen's Divorce Strategy [Rebirth] - Chapter 35

“What do you mean?” Ji Chenli asked.

Ming Lang only gave a vague smile and didn’t elaborate. She instructed the accompanying medical staff to take Ji Chenli back to the hospital, while she and Xu Luyang got into the Ming family’s private car.

On the way to the hospital, Ji Chenli kept thinking about Ming Lang’s words from when they got off the plane. She faintly felt that Ming Lang was trying to tell her something—even a bold and terrifying thought flashed through her mind—but she quickly suppressed it. What a joke, the Ming Lang of her previous life was living perfectly fine; without Ji Chenli, she could have lived a blissful, carefree life with Han Xinyuan. How could it be…

Eliminating that possibility, Ji Chenli found Ming Lang’s abnormal behavior even more unexplainable. Finally, she comforted herself with the idea that in a parallel world, it was normal for behavior to differ.

Fortunately, she didn’t spend much time overthinking, because as soon as she arrived at the ward, she found Tao Yuan waiting for her.

Ji Chenli’s eyes lit up immediately. “Sister Tao Yuan? How did you know I was back?”

Tao Yuan opened her mouth, then looked at the doctors and nurses performing check-ups on Ji Chenli and closed it again. Once they left, she sighed. “That Ming Lang told me.” She then glared at Ji Chenli. “Didn’t you say you went to be a volunteer? Is this how you ‘volunteer’?”

“I… I…” Ji Chenli shrank back guiltily, then gave a fawning smile. “Sister, I know I was wrong…”

Tao Yuan had seen this low-profile admission of guilt nearly a thousand times. Ji Chenli had been like this since she was a child—bold enough to do anything behind people’s backs, yet the fastest to apologize once caught. Tao Yuan kept a stiff face. “You know it now, but what were you doing before?”

“Sister…” Ji Chenli pouted with a victimized look. “I couldn’t help it. I didn’t make the earthquake happen. Sister, you don’t know—being buried under the rubble with concrete slabs crushing me… it hurt so much…” To prove she was telling the truth, she intentionally scrunched up her face in pain.

As expected, Tao Yuan’s heart softened. Though she kept a stern face, her tone mellowed. “Couldn’t you have told me over the phone? ‘Volunteering’… you lie without even blinking.”

“I was just afraid you’d worry…”

“It’s even more worrying when you don’t say anything!” Tao Yuan glared at her.

Anger aside, she was still her younger sister, and heartache won out. Seeing how Ji Chenli had grown thin and haggard, Tao Yuan set about nourishing her. With a daily service of various soups and tonics, Ji Chenli’s weight returned within a week. Her face rounded out, and a soft layer of “little meat” accumulated on her waist again. Ji Chenli pinched her waist every day, feeling quite distressed.

“Sister, can you stop making such good food? I’m going to get fat…”

“Are you still drinking the black chicken soup or not?”

“I’m drinking it!” Ji Chenli nodded frantically. Pinching her soft waist, she thought, Forget it, I’m bedridden with a serious injury. If I’m fat, I’m fat. No one’s seeing me anyway.

Mhm, Sister Tao Yuan’s black chicken soup is fragrant but not greasy. It’s delicious.

Tao Yuan had a group of children to care for. Aside from visiting every day at noon to bring food, she couldn’t come often. Ji Chenli spent most of her time alone in the hospital. Luckily, the ward was equipped with a TV and Wi-Fi. She passed the time surfing the web and watching shows, so she didn’t feel bored.

By now, more than half a month had passed since the earthquake. The national TV stations were still reporting on disaster relief, but local stations and the internet were once again dominated by entertainment news. While browsing Weibo out of boredom, Ji Chenli noticed the topic “Ji Chenli Saves Han Xinyuan” had quietly trended. Curious, she clicked in, and her face darkened instantly.

The first Weibo post she saw featured a photo: a selfie of Ji Chenli and Han Xinyuan trapped in the ruins. They had taken it on a whim. At the time, Han Xinyuan’s exact words were: “If we truly end up dead and unrecognizable here, with this photo, people might at least identify us.”

Ji Chenli hadn’t thought about it while hospitalized, but seeing it now made her want to spit blood.

Han Xinyuan, you calculating bitch! Ji Chenli thought resentfully. She… she actually only photoshopped herself!

In the photo, aside from slightly messy hair, Han Xinyuan was still the fair-skinned, beautiful socialite. Meanwhile, Ji Chenli, flashing a “peace” sign at the camera, was covered in dust with brick fragments in her hair! In such a comparison, she was a total loser.

Ji Chenli thought: Indeed, against a woman like Han Xinyuan, one must remain on guard at all times. You can’t relax for a second.

After cursing Han Xinyuan ten thousand times in her head, she finally noticed the text of the post. It was actually a magazine interview Han Xinyuan had given. Since she had encountered such a once-in-a-century news event, she naturally used the opportunity for hype. Ji Chenli read the report; although Han Xinyuan was calculating enough to only edit her own photo, her words were truthful and matched what had happened. Ji Chenli felt a bit better.

But as she scrolled down to the comments, she felt awful again.

[OMG, what is this inexplicable CP (Couple) feeling?!]

[The perennial ‘vicious second lead’ risked her life to save the socialite! WOC, this is so cute it’s killing me! But the socialite clearly belongs to the President! I don’t want to ship the second lead!]

[Upstairs, stop struggling. I’ve already fallen into the ‘Yuan-Li’ (Xinyuan-Chenli) pit. I’m taking up the ship’s flag.]

[What ‘Yuan-Li’? It’s clearly ‘Li-Yuan’! The ‘Hero Saves the Beauty’ dynamic makes the roles obvious, okay?]

[Hey hey, can’t we just have a 3P? My Iceberg President is so pitiful, okay?]

[I refuse to let the vicious second lead wash her reputation! I only ship the elegant socialite! Xinyuan belongs to me! But I can’t control my legs from falling into the pit! Oh! No! No!]

Fine. Ji Chenli admitted the “vicious second lead” was likely her, and her online reputation had always been terrible. She even remembered receiving death threats from Ming Lang and Han Xinyuan’s “CP fans” in her previous life—heaven knows why Ming Lang, who rarely even gave interviews, had fans. Probably because “beauty is justice.” But these comments… Ji Chenli just wanted to throw her phone.

Are you kidding me?

She continued scrolling through the trend and even saw the “Yuan-Li CP” growing step by step. There were fan edits, photoshopped pictures—heaven knows how these “CP fans” pieced together unrelated videos and photos. There were even “kissing” edits and fanfiction!

Ji Chenli read a few paragraphs and was so shocked she nearly dropped her phone. “…” My eyes!

It wasn’t until she saw another fast-rising topic, #Han Xinyuan 72 Hours Starts Filming#, that she realized she had likely been used by Han Xinyuan’s PR team for free promotion.

The movie 72 Hours told the story of a cancer patient’s final three days. It was a bit “stream of consciousness” but very inspirational; it was the work that had won Han Xinyuan her Best Actress award. Filming should have started seven years from now, yet in this world of distorted timelines, it had moved up by seven years.

Ji Chenli had seen the movie. Han Xinyuan’s acting was indeed commendable, vividly portraying the struggle, fear, and stubborn refusal to give up. She was a good actress, but Ji Chenli only found it fake.

There aren’t that many ‘struggles.’ When you’re dead, you’re dead. Only people who haven’t died imagine death as an inspirational story. People truly facing death don’t want to do anything except wait.

Ji Chenli was lost in thought when she received a call from Tao Yuan saying she was almost there. Ji Chenli patted her cheeks and forced a smile so she wouldn’t look so lethargic.

“I’m bringing a few of the older kids, Chen-chen. Should I buy a cake?” Tao Yuan asked over the phone.

Ji Chenli was confused. “The kids can just come; I miss them. But why buy a cake?”

Tao Yuan laughed. “Did you forget? Today is your birthday.”

“Birthday? Today is my birthday?”

Then Ji Chenli remembered. Today was indeed her birthday, and Han Xinyuan’s birthday. According to her previous life, it was also the day she won Best Actress.

Ji Chenli hadn’t celebrated a birthday in seven years; her memory of how to celebrate was blurred.

“Sister, you still remember.” Ji Chenli’s voice hitched for a moment.

“Nonsense. I could forget anyone but you,” Tao Yuan said. “Alright, hanging up. The kids want cake, so I’ll go buy one now.”

“Mhm, okay.” Ji Chenli hung up quickly, afraid she would burst into tears if she kept talking.

Ming Lang leaned against the wall outside the ward. Only now did she realize why Ji Chenli had been so angry that day.

Xu Luyang, who had helped Ming Lang plan that farcical birthday party months ago, overheard the conversation from outside. Her face burned with embarrassment as she smiled awkwardly. “I didn’t realize Miss Ji’s birthday was at this time… What a coincidence, the same day as Miss Xinyuan.”

Ming Lang leaned against the wall with her eyes closed, not responding to Xu Luyang.

“You’re back.”

“Han Xinyuan’s cake even had rose petals. I’ve never seen such a beautiful cake.”

“Wish me a happy birthday.”

“Seven years. I endured it day by day.”

Ming Lang thought: It turns out that regarding Ji Chenli, I never remembered a single thing.

Those things Ming Lang thought she remembered, those bits of self-pity she had clutched like treasure for decades—they were just a pile of trash. They had absolutely nothing to do with Ji Chenli.