Chapter 13
Xie Zhi had not adorned himself with makeup or styled his hair, but when he leaned forward slightly, his gaze cool and focused, each elegant and refined stroke of the brush flowed from his hand, it was as if people could peer through the vast expanse of time, glimpsing the tranquil grace of an ancient noble gentleman within the boudoir—a sight truly pleasing to the eye.
Fang Xianxing couldn’t bear to shatter this serene mood, so she stood at a distance, the corners of her lips lifting into a faint smile, her eyes resting openly upon Xie Zhi.
It had been some time since their last meeting, and Xie Zhi seemed to have grown even more beautiful.
He was hers.
Fang Xianxing mused.
If Xie Zhi were a mere object, her thoughts might have been simpler.
For example, such a lovely treasure belonged to her—others could only admire it from afar, while she alone could claim it.
Alas, Xie Zhi was no object; he possessed his own thoughts.
Fang Xianxing felt a restless itch in her heart, quietly scheming how she might convince Xie Zhi to accept that he belonged to her.
Their recent conversations had drawn them so close—surely Xie Zhi harbored some affection for her by now.
*
Fang Xianxing’s arrival did not go unnoticed. People observed her being ushered in, her aura far beyond that of an ordinary soul, prompting hushed speculation about her identity. At the entrance, guards were still holding back eager fans trying to slip inside amid the stir.
Tang Xuan had been standing near the rear, and upon hearing the commotion, he turned just in time to catch sight of Fang Xianxing.
A spark ignited in his eyes, and with a bright, radiant smile, he glided toward her.
The wide, flowing robes of his ancient attire lent his steps an airy elegance, drawing envious glances from the extras scattered about, awaiting their turn.
Tang Xuan, long accustomed to such stares, kept his eyes fixed ahead and approached Fang Xianxing directly, greeting her with a warm smile: “General Fang, what brings you here?”
Fang Xianxing paused briefly, pulling her gaze from Xie Zhi. Recognizing Tang Xuan, she replied offhandedly: “You’ve recovered, I see?”
Tang Xuan’s smile deepened with sincerity: “Thanks to your concern, General Fang. It was a minor wound—nothing that lingered.” As he spoke, he edged closer, breaching the safe distance reserved for strangers.
Fang Xianxing’s brow creased, and she stepped back subtly, her tone courteous yet aloof: “No need for thanks; it was partly my doing. I’m here on business, so carry on with yours.”
Tang Xuan saw her withdraw and heard her dismissal, a flicker of hurt crossing his gaze. Last time, he had been the one injured, yet Fang Xianxing had merely secured him a room, her heart set on tending to Xie Zhi, who had emerged unscathed.
Even her later gratitude had come through a secretary.
What did he lack compared to Xie Zhi? Was his beauty inferior? Was it only because Xie Zhi had met her first?
“General Fang, are you here for Director Su?” Tang Xuan lingered, unwilling to depart, offering a coy smile as he reached to grasp her arm. “She’s tied up for a while yet. Allow me to escort you to the makeup room to rest.”
Fang Xianxing evaded his touch, her displeasure evident as she fixed her eyes on him, catching the grievance and pitiful look he wore. Her heart remained unmoved; she found his lack of tact tiresome.
Could he not see her disinterest, yet still he persisted?
The icy disdain in her stare struck Tang Xuan deeply. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears as he murmured: “General Fang, I’ve never cared for anyone before. Since meeting you, you’ve lingered in my thoughts. Do you truly feel nothing for me?”
Fang Xianxing’s response was firm and swift: “I don’t care for you. Accept that and cease these futile efforts.”
With that, she brushed past him, heading toward Xie Zhi.
The extras watching from a distance caught fragments of their exchange and began murmuring among themselves. A flash of anger stirred in Tang Xuan’s eyes, his resentment swelling. He turned and reached to pull Fang Xianxing back.
Unprepared for his persistence, Fang Xianxing was caught off guard as he seized her arm, forcing her to halt and turn to see what more he intended.
Nearby, Xie Zhi’s brush wavered as he wrote, a tremble sending a blot of ink to mar the paper.
“Cut! Disaster! Props team—where’s the props team? Any more silk paper? Hurry and replace it!” Director Su bellowed, then turned to soothe Xie Zhi. “Teacher Xie, it’s alright, no need to fret. Take your time writing; we’ve ample paper and ink.”
Xie Zhi murmured an “Mm” in reply. While awaiting the new sheet, he pressed his lips together, setting the brush gently on the inkstone to moisten it and reshape its tip. His sidelong glance drifted slowly to the pair not far off, tangled in their exchange.
A surge of irritation rose within him, tempting him to cast the brush aside and retreat to the solitude of the temporary office.
Xie Zhi moistened the brush in silence, his presence growing markedly colder. The nearby staff wondered if the ink or brush was subpar, hindering his strokes and souring his mood.
Their hands moved faster, an unspoken urge to lift his spirits driving them.
Soon, fresh silk paper arrived, and as the camera aligned, Xie Zhi bowed his head and began anew.
Fang Xianxing remained oblivious to this mishap, still entangled with the obstinate Tang Xuan.
Tang Xuan gripped her arm with both hands, and try as she might, she couldn’t break free.
Seeing his unrelenting stance, Fang Xianxing shifted tactics, yanking him closer with a sudden tug, her voice dropping to a whisper only he could hear: “Tang Xuan, do you think I’ve risen to this position through kindness alone?”
Her tone was low, steely, and laden with authority, exuding an overwhelming force.
“Don’t test me, or I’ll ensure you’re left without even the chance to regret it!”
Tang Xuan’s pulse quickened as he stared, dazed, at Fang Xianxing. Fear gripped him, yet her commanding presence now seemed even more awe-inspiring, stirring an impulse to reach out and hold her.
Fang Xianxing noted his stunned, wide-eyed expression with satisfaction.
She wasn’t jesting. She hadn’t forgotten how Tang Xuan had once feigned an injury to smear Xie Zhi’s name. She’d overlooked it then, as it caused no great harm, but if he failed to see reason now and kept clinging, he’d have no one to blame when she settled accounts.
Seizing the moment while Tang Xuan stood dazed, Fang Xianxing pushed him away, her voice cold: “Keep your distance—it’s best for us all.”
Ignoring his reaction, she strode to Director Su’s side, peering through the monitor to watch Xie Zhi’s writing.
Xie Zhi pressed his lips tight, guiding his hand to complete the characters. When Director Su called “Cut” and approved the take, he set the brush down at once, shed his outer robe, and departed swiftly.
Fang Xianxing had just turned from the monitor when she saw Xie Zhi leave without a word. She stepped forward to follow, only to be pulled aside into a corner by Song Longsha’s discreetly outstretched hand.
“Sister, what brings you here? Checking on the set?” Song Longsha whispered, her eyes twinkling mischievously, as if plotting something.
Fang Xianxing straightened: “You know full well why I’m here.”
Song Longsha grinned: “Brother-in-law’s been fine here. Aside from today, he’s stayed with the props team. I’ve had eyes on him—no troublemakers have dared approach.”
Fang Xianxing nodded, gratified. This younger sister proved her worth.
“But… Sister, you haven’t told brother-in-law I’m your real sister, have you?” Song Longsha’s eyes widened as she pressed the point.
Fang Xianxing blinked, feigning innocence: “Weren’t you the one insisting on concealing your identity?”
“He’s not some stranger!” Song Longsha huffed, exasperated. No wonder Xie Zhi always eyed her like a foe. “Mother and Father are rigid and out of touch with me, but you and brother-in-law aren’t! Sister, tell him who I am already. You’ve no idea how long he’s mistaken me for a villain.”
Fang Xianxing couldn’t stifle a laugh: “Alright, I understand. Go film your scenes. I’m here for him, not you.”
“Sister, favoring beauty over kin isn’t wise,” Song Longsha quipped, though she obeyed and left, pausing to add: “Tell brother-in-law, won’t you? Remind him to keep my identity under wraps outside. I don’t want word spreading that I’ve a wealthy sister—it’ll sully my pristine rise to fame.”
Fang Xianxing’s expression darkened as she gave Song Longsha a light kick, sending her scurrying off, clutching her foot.
Shaking her head, Fang Xianxing set off to find Xie Zhi.
*
“What’s troubling Xiao Xie?” Ke Jie observed that since returning from filming, Xie Zhi had sat with a frosty demeanor before his unfinished sketches, not drawing a single line, and she couldn’t help but voice her concern. “If filming displeases you, we’ll skip it next time. What’s there to brood over?”
Xie Zhi offered no reply, though his brush finally dipped, lips pressed as he resumed his work.
With a creak, the temporary office door swung open, and Fang Xianxing entered. Noticing Ke Jie, she gave a courteous nod.
Ke Jie paused at the sight of this unfamiliar beauty. Seeing Fang Xianxing’s gaze linger on Xie Zhi even as she greeted her, and noting Xie Zhi’s rare detachment from his surroundings, Ke Jie pieced it together. Excusing herself, she stepped out, pulling along Xiao Qin, who’d been hovering by the door, eager to stay near Xie Zhi.
“Why are you still sulking?” With the room cleared, Fang Xianxing approached Xie Zhi with a hint of exasperation. “Song Longsha’s my true sister. What’s wrong with accepting a few things from her?”
True sister?
Xie Zhi’s brush stilled, the ember in his chest flaring brighter rather than fading.
Song Longsha was her sister, and she’d withheld that from him for so long!
She must have relished watching him grumble about Song Longsha, even sulk, feeling quite pleased with herself.
Women were all deceitful, delighting in toying with hearts.
“Xie Zhi?” Fang Xianxing leaned closer, her face near his. “What’s got you so vexed? My sister wants to rise as an actress on her own and begged me not to reveal our bond. It’s honestly not my doing.”
Xie Zhi turned aside, unwilling to engage.
If Song Longsha’s matter wasn’t her fault, then what of Tang Xuan?
No doubt Tang Xuan had thrown himself at her, but had she rebuffed him?
Why had they stood so near?
She’d once declared Tang Xuan unfit as her marriage partner—yet now? Reneging on her word, did she suddenly find him appealing?
“How long until the auction?” The fire in Xie Zhi’s heart blazed hotter, his patience fraying. He demanded brusquely, “How much longer before I can join the Boundary Sea archaeology project?”
Fang Xianxing rose, her brow furrowing as she studied Xie Zhi.
With a single remark, Xie Zhi shattered the tender thread between them, as if their days of warm exchanges had been a mirage, reduced to a mere transaction.
“It’s been ages since we last met, and this is all you care about?” Fang Xianxing’s easy demeanor vanished, her voice dropping as she questioned him.
“What else should I care for?” Her shift in tone only fueled Xie Zhi’s defiance. He stood, meeting her glare head-on. “We had a deal—I’d feign marriage with you, and you’d grant me the Boundary Sea project. Are you reneging now?”
All those days of pleasant talks were merely Xie Zhi’s pretense, a dutiful performance.
Fang Xianxing clenched her jaw, locking eyes with his frigid stare: “Xie Zhi, you were far more charming when you couldn’t see.” Now that he could, he was insufferable.
Whether I’m charming or not, what’s it to you! Tang Xuan’s charming, so you’ve forsaken your word to pursue him? Deceiver!
His anger boiling over, Xie Zhi shoved Fang Xianxing aside and stormed out, cheeks puffed with fury. Xiao Qin, waiting outside, opened the door first, stepping back instinctively upon seeing Xie Zhi. Snapping to attention, he called inside: “General Fang, Director Su heard you’re here and wishes to meet you.”
Fang Xianxing stumbled from the push, her own temper flaring in response. Straightening, she strode out, casting Xie Zhi a sharp glance as she passed, then left in a huff.
That evening, the crew finished early. At Nige Film City’s finest inn, Director Su hosted a feast, with Fang Xianxing covering the cost. The group ate and drank heartily, unwinding.
Ke Jie and Xie Zhi attended as well, though Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing remained at odds, ignoring each other and sitting far apart.
Ke Jie wondered if General Fang was Xie Zhi’s wife-master, but seeing his icy, unapproachable air, she held her tongue.
Let the young resolve their own affairs.
For now, Ke Jie focused on savoring the sumptuous meal.