After Rebirth, My Movie Queen Ex Begged Me to Take Her Back - Chapter 1

Xie Zhiyu hadn’t expected to see her again—especially not like this.

Above her, the scorching sunlight spilled down without mercy. Crowds bustled all around, their noise grating and chaotic. But all of it felt like background noise, stage props heralding the entrance of the true lead.

She wore black heels with crimson soles. When she lowered her gaze, her long lashes fluttered like a bold brushstroke of ink against white rice paper.

Her exposed legs were long and shapely, like smooth, polished jade cloaked in the veil of twilight.

Someone stepped forward to speak to her. She merely nodded, calm and poised, a faint chill glimmering in her eyes.

Xie Zhiyu’s gaze drifted past the black camera lens in front of her. For a moment, she felt the absurd urge to laugh—laugh at herself, at how she’d thrown everything away for something so utterly meaningless.

The hot wind tugged at the colorful ribbons tied to the fence nearby. Tiny bells jingled with the movement, and the pain from that car crash seemed to spread through her limbs all over again.

Who would’ve thought that in the final moment, when her heart’s fire was doused by a torrential downpour, the one thing she was still thinking about was—

“Hey! You there—what the hell was that?!” A man with a rolled-up script stalked over—it was the assistant director. “Do you have any idea how your impromptu scene ruined that entire take?!”

Xie Zhiyu snapped back to the present. The chorus of cicadas had grown deafening, the sweat trickling from her brow stung her eyes with an itchy burn.

“I’m sorry. I got distracted,” she said, only now realizing she’d been holding her breath. She hastily wiped her face with her arm.

The director, cap pulled low over his face, looked like he was about to erupt. “All you had to do was stand there and look menacing! Can’t even pull that off? You might as well—”

“Director Jiang.”

The voice that cut in was cool but polite. A woman standing just outside the crowd had spoken. “Is Qiutang still in the lounge?”

Director Jiang paused. When he turned, his expression flipped into a flurry of flattery. “Ah! If it isn’t our award-winning leading lady!”

“Haha, Miss Nan—congratulations on your win! I haven’t even had the chance to properly say it yet—” He followed her gaze, which landed on someone behind him.

It was the actress playing a minor role, a side character whose part was nearly wrapped.

If it weren’t for her agent’s begging, she would’ve kicked someone this tardy and unprofessional off the set long ago.

“You—yes, you,” she called. “Go to the lounge and tell her Miss Nan is waiting outside. Tell her to hurry up.”

Xie Zhiyu looked up, her eyes meeting the woman’s from just the right distance—neither close nor far.

That poised, distant smile twitched slightly, and in the next second, she looked away. Too quickly. Almost stiffly.

Xie Zhiyu wondered if it was just the heat messing with her head after standing under the sun for so long.

“Miss Nan, about the lounge—” The people who survived in this business, even if they weren’t top players, knew how to read a room.

Maybe the director had picked up on something too. He waved a hand to pause the shoot and walked over with a knowing smile. “This girl was brought in by Xiao Xu. Just turned twenty.”

“She’s called… Xiao Xie, right?” He threw her a look. “Why are you just standing there? Hurry up and greet Miss Nan.”

He signaled again with his eyes. “Xiao Xie?”

This little actress was still young. If she could catch Nan Chu’s eye, she’d never have to suffer through minor background roles again.

Look at Qiutang—she’d gone from a bottom-tier actress straight to leading lady.

Xie Zhiyu took a breath, lifting her head as she greeted politely, “Hello, Miss Nan.”

Even though ten years had passed, it had only been three days since she’d last seen Nan Chu. The thought made her add awkwardly, “I really liked your performance in Gold Digger.”

Dearest Nan Chu~ Based on my extensive research, you’re absolutely going to become the hottest commercial actress thanks to your role in Gold Digger! Let’s celebrate afterward—

The summer wind was stifling, tree branches rustling in the heat.

Nan Chu’s eyes darkened as she stared at her. Before the atmosphere could grow too tense, she finally spoke, slowly: “It’s Nan. Nan Chu.”

The southern mountain clears after rain; the northern gate rests dustless.

Xie Zhiyu silently mouthed the line from the poem, forcing a polite, almost sycophantic smile before the bitterness rising in her throat could escape. “Miss Nan Chu, I really admire you. Could I get your autograph?”

It wasn’t until that moment that it truly hit her—just how much time had passed.

Even Nan Chu hadn’t escaped the wear and tear of the years.

Though her makeup was flawless, the dark circles under her eyes were obvious. Red veins threaded through her pupils. The way she looked over now carried the same chilling intensity as her character did before a kill in Gold Digger.

The fine lines at the corners of her eyes added depth to her beauty, a graceful elegance that came only with age. Her jet-black hair fanned out over her shoulders, swaying gently with her movement. Her pale pink lips parted as if to speak—but then closed again without a word.

“That so?”

It had been years since she last heard anyone mention that role—the one that made her stand out among countless unknowns.

Nan Chu’s thoughts wandered. Maybe this girl wasn’t just trying to suck up to her. Maybe she’d actually watched her old films. Maybe that was why she felt vaguely familiar.

The director elbowed the young actress subtly.

Only then did Xie Zhiyu realize what she had forgotten.

She looked up again, and as she spoke, the woman in front of her visibly turn pale, inch by inch. “My last name’s Xie. Xie Zhiyu.”

Silence fell.

Nan Chu’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her expression shifted—something between disbelief and grim calm.

In the sweltering summer breeze, she finally stepped closer. “…How do you write it?”

Her tone was too certain, the question too careful.

But before Xie Zhiyu could answer, the real lead of this set burst into view.

“Nan Chu-jie! Sorry to keep you waiting~” Yu Qiutang swept a proud glance across the onlookers. “Director, I’m skipping the afternoon scenes. Let the others do it.”

“Of course, of course! You two have fun—” the director said, eager to please.

Nan Chu’s face returned to its usual calm indifference. Right in front of everyone, she turned and walked away, leaving her earlier question hanging.

Maybe it was because she knew—someone who died ten years ago couldn’t possibly be standing here.

Maybe just hearing the name had scared her half to death.

After all, Xie Zhiyu thought, she’d died ten years ago… as her ex-girlfriend?

Then again, maybe Nan Chu barely even remembered who that name belonged to anymore.

Once the two women were gone, the director beside her finally waved his notebook in frustration. “Why didn’t you say more? I let you stay on set just for this.”

“That’s Nan Chu, you know? Ever heard of the Nan family? They’re funding this entire thing. And now she’s an award-winning actress! Do you have any idea how many people—ah, forget it.”

He looked at her blank expression and fell silent.

“It was my first time meeting her in person. I got nervous,” Xie Zhiyu mumbled after a pause. “Director, about my last scene—”

“Shame, that face could’ve taken you far, but you’re just… dumb,” the director muttered, ignoring her request for a retake. Instead, he shouted for the crew to resume and moved on to the next segment.

As for Xie Zhiyu, whose part barely lasted a few minutes, she was left standing there alone.

She looked around the lively set, then lowered her gaze to her hands—fair and slender, her fingers smooth and delicate.

They didn’t look like her hands at all.

Dark clouds veiled the upper half of the sky, but for her, the first day on the job had gone as smoothly as she could hope.

Xie Zhiyu sat on the shaded steps beneath a tree, resting her chin in her hand as she waited for the car—late, as usual—to pick her up. Her eyes lingered on the last sliver of sunset wedged between two tall buildings.

Behind her, the windows of the office tower gradually lit up one by one.

“Nan Chu’s finally getting engaged? To whom—Yu Qiutang?”

The familiar name snapped Xie Zhiyu out of her scattered thoughts. Her gaze sharpened, and she tuned in.

“No way. Someone like Yu Qiutang? Seriously? But,” the woman’s voice lowered slightly as she glanced around—unaware of the person sitting just a few steps away—“I heard the paparazzi caught the actress showing up to someone’s place with a whole group in tow. My aunt works near there. She said it was because that person’s ex… just wouldn’t move on.”

“Ex-girlfriend? Wait—don’t tell me it’s that one from a few years back, the one who made all that drama…”

The sound of water stopped running, and the voice became crystal clear.

“But it’s been years. Still hasn’t gone to the afterlife?”

“What are you talking about?” a second voice cut in, full of disdain. “Rather than blaming some clingy ex, I’d say it’s Nan Chu who’s—”

Their voices faded as they walked off.

Xie Zhiyu stared at the darkening sky in silence before rising to step into the black car that had just pulled up in front of her.

“Passenger ending in 3980?” the driver asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

She nodded, eyes drifting to the blur of scenery rushing past the window.

She absentmindedly tapped through her phone to confirm the ride’s destination, the motions familiar despite herself. By the time she arrived home, it was already late. She stood in the washroom, reached up, and wiped the fog from the mirror.

A face stared back at her—one both foreign and familiar.

Soft, rounded eyes that carried a hint of innocence when lifted to meet someone’s gaze. Hair dyed a brassy yellow, the kind only cheap box dyes could produce. On anyone else, it would’ve been a disaster. But paired with this bright, striking face, it somehow worked.

Only… that face was utterly expressionless now, blank and cold, tinged with a stunned sort of detachment.

She reached out, covering the mirror to block the reflection of those searching eyes.

Pain flared from her wrist. The jagged wound there throbbed sharply with the motion, sending dizzying waves of black across her vision.

But that pain finally gave her something solid, something real.

She had been reborn—into someone else’s body, ten years into the future.

And once again… she had crossed paths with Nan Chu.