Hi, Wifey! [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 16

Entering the room, they were immediately greeted by a refreshing blast of cool air from the AC, instantly making them feel more comfortable. Fu Xia locked the door behind her and asked Cheng Wanyu, “Is the AC too cold? I set it to 16°C. If you’re uncomfortable, I can turn it up a bit.”

Cheng Wanyu reached out to test the temperature at the vent and said, “16°C is way too low. If you’re really hot, 24°C is enough. At night, you should set it to 26°C, or you might get sick from the AC.”

Fu Xia adjusted the temperature on the AC remote and smiled at Cheng Wanyu. “You sound just like my assistant—she always scolds me about this too. But I love how cool the room feels, especially when I’m bundled up in blankets.”

She had no grand ambitions in life—just loved being wrapped in blankets in an air-conditioned room. It was pure bliss.

Cheng Wanyu waited until the temperature rose before saying, “You should still be careful, or you might catch a cold.”

Fu Xia nodded and grabbed a drink from the fridge. “Want some sparkling water?”

Cheng Wanyu took the bottle from Fu Xia, their fingers brushing briefly. She noticed how icy Fu Xia’s hand was—cold as winter.

She instinctively caught Fu Xia’s hand before she could pull away. “Your hands are freezing. How long have you been under the AC?”

Fu Xia thought for a moment. “Since Zhou Wen left, so about an hour or so.”

Cheng Wanyu sighed. “Don’t do that again.”

Fu Xia smiled, touched by her concern. “Thanks for speaking up for me earlier. It would’ve been a hassle if people misunderstood.”

Cheng Wanyu released her hand. “I just happened to be passing by.”

“If you hadn’t stepped in, I would’ve had to check the security footage, and Zhou Wen would’ve scolded me for sure,” Fu Xia said, twisting open the chilled sparkling water and taking a sip.

Fu Xia’s nightgown was long, nearly reaching her ankles, but even such a length didn’t look cumbersome on her. Instead, it accentuated her slender figure, especially her delicate neck and collarbones, which peeked out—both alluring and adorable.

Cheng Wanyu felt her heart flutter slightly. Spotting a tablet tossed on the sofa, she picked it up casually. “Reading a novel?”

Fu Xia choked on her water. “Pfft—”

She quickly set the bottle down and snatched the tablet back. Cheng Wanyu had only glimpsed a few words—barely enough to catch what might have been her own name.

“Ahaha,” Fu Xia laughed awkwardly, clutching the tablet. “Yeah, I was reading a novel. I hadn’t gotten far before Fang Chushi knocked on my door.”

Inside, Fu Xia was screaming: WHAT DO I DO IF THE PERSON THE SMUT IS ABOUT SEES IT?!

There was no way Cheng Wanyu could’ve read much in just one second, right?

She definitely didn’t see anything, right?!

Cheng Wanyu, noticing Fu Xia’s nervousness, asked, “I think I saw my name in that novel just now.”

OH GOD SHE SAW IT!!!!

Fu Xia broke out in a cold sweat. It was a novel she’d just stumbled upon today—one with little plot but plenty of the steamy scenes she loved. The page she’d been on featured a hotel scenario, with the two characters tangled in a round bathtub, flushed and breathless…

“Not really, maybe you saw wrong.” Fu Xia hid the tablet behind her back and said to her, “I usually just like watching random stuff. Let me turn on the TV for you—the hotel has lots of channels, even live broadcasts.”

As soon as the TV turned on, Fu Xia saw it was the same painting livestream replay she’d watched yesterday. The host was articulately interacting with the audience: “There’s definitely a difference in their bust sizes—Yuyu is at least a C-cup, while Xiaxia barely makes a B. So, I’m going to use heavier lines here. Especially this little peak—since we can’t actually draw it, just look at the outline. Ah, Xiaxia’s little peak is so adorable! I love how petite she is—”

Click.

Fu Xia turned off the TV, her back to Cheng Wanyu as the air seemed to grow colder.

“What were you watching?”

Cheng Wanyu’s voice came from behind, startling Fu Xia so badly she trembled.

Turning around shakily, Fu Xia looked at Cheng Wanyu’s exquisite features and suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“Nothing important,” Fu Xia flailed her arms in explanation. “Zhou Wen’s been really into digital painting lately, so she’s always watching these art videos on my devices. Ugh, so annoying—her drawings aren’t even good, I don’t know why she keeps watching this stuff.”

Meanwhile, Zhou Wen—completely absent—sneezed violently: “Achoo!”

Cheng Wanyu eyed Fu Xia suspiciously. She’d been drinking water when the TV turned on, so she’d only heard the audio without seeing the visuals. By the time she turned her head, Fu Xia had already switched it off, leaving her oddly curious about what she’d missed.

Fu Xia decided nothing electronic in her room could be trusted right now. Forcing a laugh, she suggested, “How about we just sit and chat for a while?”

Curving her lips into a smile, Cheng Wanyu settled onto the sofa. “Sure.”

After all, she hadn’t come here to watch TV or play with tablets anyway.

The two sat on the couch by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Fu Xia fiddled with her tablet, clearing her browsing history before placing it safely out of Cheng Wanyu’s reach. Only then did she relax enough to ask, “Why were you back so late today? Did you eat already?”

“I have.” Cheng Wanyu sank into the sofa—it was so plush her entire body seemed to melt into it.

So comfortable.

Fu Xia hugged her knees in the armchair, smiling at Cheng Wanyu’s contented expression. “Comfy, right? This is a Vision Series custom sofa. I had movers bring it from my place. It wasn’t cheap when I bought it, but it’s incredibly comfortable and durable.”

Cheng Wanyu had heard of the brand, though she wasn’t particularly interested in home furnishings. She simply nodded in acknowledgment.

Outside the windows, the city at 7 p.m. hadn’t fully descended into darkness yet. The sun had dipped below the horizon, but the sky still held a dim, overcast glow.

“Summer vacation should have started by now, right?” Fu Xia hugged her knees, gazing outside. “Hard to believe we’ve been filming for so long already.”

Counting the days, Fu Xia had been on set for nearly two months now, with about a third of the script completed. According to Director Chen’s estimates, they’d probably wrap by November or December.

Fu Xia glanced at Cheng Wanyu and smiled, “I still remember when we both posted similar Weibo updates that ended up trending. It feels like so long ago now.”

Cheng Wanyu’s dark, bright eyes met hers as she paused before saying, “What happened today was dangerous.”

Fu Xia asked, “Are you talking about Fang Chushi?”

Cheng Wanyu nodded, straightening up as she replied, “He’s not a good person. If he bothers you again, just call security.”

Fu Xia scratched her cheek hesitantly, “Is that really okay? We’re all part of the same production crew.”

“And if he had actually barged into your room today, would you still be lenient with him?”

“…”

Fu Xia tried to imagine the scenario, then shook her head with a shiver, “I definitely wouldn’t let him off then.”

Cheng Wanyu kept her gaze fixed on Fu Xia, “He’ll be leaving after next week’s shoot. Until then, if he does anything that makes you uncomfortable, warn him and keep your distance.”

Fu Xia nodded with a smile, “Don’t worry, there are surveillance cameras everywhere now. If he tries to frame me or cause trouble, the footage can be my witness.”

“Even with cameras, what’s done can’t be undone,” Cheng Wanyu said seriously. “I hope you’ll protect yourself properly when I’m not around.”

Fu Xia stared at her blankly until Cheng Wanyu left. Only then did she rub her head in frustration, hugging her knees as she gazed out the darkened window with a long sigh.

“Cheng Wanyu really doesn’t like me after all…”

With another sigh, she got up to adjust the thermostat to 16 degrees before curling up under the covers with her phone.

Well, so what if she didn’t like her? Fu Xia never planned to get along with Cheng Wanyu anyway—as long as they weren’t constantly at each other’s throats.

The next day, Fang Chushi didn’t show up on set. Rumor had it he was hospitalized. Hearing this, Fu Xia’s expression darkened.

Just a pinched hand—was hospitalization really necessary?

Unless his hospital visit revealed he had cancer or something. That kind of plot twist happened often in dramas…

Despite her internal sarcasm, Fu Xia still felt unsettled. Her performance was off all morning, something Cheng Wanyu noticed. At lunch, she brought Fu Xia two extra bottles of water.

Fu Xia thanked her, picking at her boxed lunch absentmindedly, her mood clearly sour.

After lunch, the crew took a break. The midday heat left everyone lethargic, sprawled out in small groups to rest before resuming work around 2 or 3 PM.

Just as Fu Xia was about to nap, a production assistant approached.

“Teacher Xiaxia, some of your fans are outside. Would you like to meet them?” The assistant peeked into the room where the two leads were resting.

Fu Xia looked up, puzzled, “My fans?”

The assistant shifted his gaze to Cheng Wanyu, smiling, “Teacher Cheng has fans here too—about twenty or thirty in total. They’re apparently college students on summer break. Would you both like to meet them?”

It wasn’t unusual for fans to visit sets during filming, but the mingling of Fu Xia’s and Cheng Wanyu’s fanbases warranted caution—their supporters had once brawled at an airport, after all.

Fu Xia cautiously glanced at Cheng Wanyu, who happened to turn at the same moment. Their eyes met in silent understanding.

“Since we’re already here,” the crew member tentatively asked, “right?”

The eight great leniencies of Chinese people are nothing more than: it’s the New Year, the person’s already dead, since we’re here, everyone has it tough, they’re just kids, they’re old now, it’s for your own good, and you’ll get used to it.

So, when Fu Xia resignedly followed Cheng Wanyu out of the recording building, she saw twenty or thirty girls standing under the shade of trees. They glared at each other, tensions running high—the left side holding banners that read “Heart’s Desire, Eternal Love for Xia!” while the right side carried flags proclaiming, “Unshaken by Praise or Blame, Deep Devotion to Yu!”

Fu Xia’s vision darkened. She hadn’t realized their fan slogans could be so… perfectly matched.