It’s Okay to Divorce - Chapter 05
Mu Mian finished her porridge right in front of Yun Pei, and at the end, she didn’t forget to wipe her mouth before letting out a dramatic sigh. “The porridge tastes pretty good, but it’s a tad too thick. Next time, you could add a bit more water.”
Yun Pei swallowed her frustration and shot her a resentful glare.
Once Yun Pei left, her assistant Li Wen poked Mu Mian’s shoulder. “Sister Mu, she looks really pissed off. Wasn’t that a little too disrespectful to Boss Yun?”
“Yun Haodong can’t even teach his own daughter properly, so I’m doing it for him. How is that not giving him face?” Mu Mian patted her round belly and exhaled. “I’m sleepy. Let me rest for fifteen minutes—wake me up after.”
“Sure thing, Sister Mu.” Li Wen glanced at her belly and asked, “Sister Mu, is it tough filming with that belly sticking out?”
“The tough days are still ahead,” Mu Mian replied. “From now on, I’ll have to lug this belly around even when I’m eating or sleeping.”
“Why’s that?” Li Wen asked, puzzled.
Without batting an eye, Mu Mian said, “To experience the ultimate hardships of life!”
—
In the drama It’s Okay To Divorce, there weren’t many kissing scenes. Drawing from the experience of the previous installment, the scriptwriter had deliberately cut them down.
The two leads in the last one had been… well, not exactly stellar. The final footage was basically unwatchable, forcing them to slash a ton of those scenes.
That evening, Zou Tingshen and Mu Mian were filming a bed scene.
The wife, Ren Li, lay in her husband Mo Shao’s arms, daydreaming about the future.
Mr. Mo wore a look of pure bliss as he lifted the blanket and pressed his ear against his wife’s belly to listen for fetal movements.
Through the thin layer of cotton pajamas, his cheek could clearly feel Mu Mian’s body heat.
Mingled in that warmth was a faint, elusive fragrance—not perfume, but a fresh, fruity scent that felt utterly natural, as if it were part of her from birth.
Only he knew that beneath the clothes, it wasn’t a fake rubber belly; Mu Mian was truly pregnant, genuinely nurturing a tiny life inside.
He heard the heartbeat—thump, thump—and it felt utterly magical.
A smile rippled across the man’s lips and crinkled the corners of his eyes.
His heart felt like a scoop of ice cream melting under a soft, warm sunbeam.
Stirred uncontrollably by that wondrous heartbeat, he cradled Mu Mian’s belly, leaned down, and planted a kiss on the woman’s swollen abdomen.
The kiss was gentle and lingering, full of natural tenderness.
Feng Weijian was a bit taken aback.
Just a few days ago, Emperor Zou had been vomiting during kissing scenes—how was he ad-libbing now?
Kissing such an intimate spot as a woman’s belly… wouldn’t that trigger his old issue?
But Zou Tingshen showed no signs of nausea or vomiting; instead, he played the scene with effortless naturalness.
That kiss on the wife’s belly was the perfect finishing touch to the moment.
Mu Mian broke out in goosebumps from his sudden move.
Hold on—
This wasn’t in the script!
Though shocked by Zou Tingshen’s improvisation, Mu Mian was a seasoned actress. She quickly recovered and matched his energy.
The corners of her mouth curved into a subtle smile as she reached out to gently stroke the back of the man’s head.
No dialogue.
Everything was conveyed through expressions and gestures.
Scenes like this—without lines or narration—were a real test of acting chops, tough to pull off. But Mu Mian not only caught Zou Tingshen’s vibe; she masterfully used her expressions, movements, and gazes to portray a wife basking in pure happiness.
Yun Pei, watching from the sidelines, flipped through the script and realized that this standout moment wasn’t in there at all.
The girl’s eyes darkened a shade, clearly a little upset.
Back in school, Yun Pei had been a huge fan of Mu Mian—loved her looks, her talent.
But ever since those scandalous rumors about Mu Mian and her father surfaced, she’d gone full anti-fan.
This annoying woman hadn’t just been linked to her father; she also seemed awfully close to her male idol.
The girl just couldn’t stomach it.
After wrapping, Mu Mian removed her makeup but kept the belly on.
Feng Weijian called out to her. “Mu Mian, why haven’t you taken off that belly?”
She smiled and replied, “I’m not getting into character enough, so I’m wearing it during breaks to get a feel for being pregnant. That way, I can hit my peak performance when we roll.”
Per the original shooting plan, Mu Mian’s belly was supposed to be a realistic rubber prop—lift the clothes, and without a close inspection, you couldn’t tell it from the real thing.
Removing that kind of rubber material was a hassle.
Seeing Mu Mian so dedicated touched Feng Weijian a little.
She’d held her spot at the top of the entertainment world for years, yet she was still this committed—definitely worth praising.
Getting inexplicably hyped up by the director left Mu Mian speechless.
So a big belly comes with perks like this?
Back at the hotel, Mu Mian flopped straight onto the bed.
Zou Tingshen had stewed a nourishing soup, which passed through a couple of hands before finally reaching her.
She opened the container, and the chicken soup’s aroma burst out with the steaming heat, enveloping her in its delicious scent.
Woo… it smells amazing…
Ming Wei was lounging on the nearby sofa, scrolling through Weibo, the fragrance filling the room and making her envious. “The Film Emperor’s really thoughtful about the baby in your belly. Xu Lin said he stewed it himself.”
Mu Mian scooped up a spoonful, took a sip—and immediately spat it out.
“Damn… no salt at all?” She forced down a mouthful of the watery-bland chicken soup, setting the spoon aside with a grimace.
Her phone buzzed on the table—a WeChat message.
Zou the Jerk: “Remember to finish the chicken soup. It’s good for nourishing your body.”
Mu Mian wiped her mouth and fired back about his unscientific cooking: “It tastes bland as sh1t! Would adding some salt kill you???”
Zou the Jerk: “Oh? So Miss Mu’s tasted sh1t before?”
Mu Mian: “!!!! Get lost!”
Zou the Jerk: “Got a computer? Drop your email—I’ll send you something.”
Mu Mian took a deep breath to calm down and sent over her email. Less than five minutes later, she got a 1GB compressed file.
She downloaded it, propped her chin in her hand, and stared at the screen, wondering what could be inside.
Decompression done, she gazed at the five or six video files, all with .avi extensions, and sank into deep contemplation.
That file extension… those sizes. Mu Mian thought of something, and her face flushed red.
Mu Mian: “Zou Tingshen, why’d you send me these videos?”
Zou Tingshen’s reply carried no hint of sleaziness, perfectly straightforward: “We’re husband and wife—we need to work on this together. Watch them first to learn the basics. When we have time, we can study them as a team.”
Mu Mian: “…!!” We even have to study together?
She pictured the scene in her mind.
She, with her big belly, was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Zou Tingshen, watching the little videos side by side.
Her mouse hovered over one of the .avi files. Her heart raced for no reason, her face burning.
Ming Wei, still on Weibo, glanced up and saw the blush. “What’s up? You hot or something?”
She set down her iPad, poured Mu Mian a glass of water, and brought it over.
Just as Ming Wei approached, Mu Mian slammed the laptop shut, her face an embarrassing shade of red.
“Mianmian, what were you looking at? Your face is beet red.”
“N-nothing…” Mu Mian swallowed hard.
Why am I feeling so parched all of a sudden??
Ming Wei caught the guilty expression, snatched the laptop, opened it, spotted the decompressed videos on the desktop, and clicked one at random.
Mu Mian facepalmed, bracing for epic levels of awkwardness.
She shot off a WeChat rant at Zou Tingshen: “Zou the Pervert, sending little videos to a girl—hope you never land a fairy girl!!! You—”
She was fuming.
Zou Tingshen: “???”
Ming Wei hit play, and an upbeat rhythm kicked in, followed by an elegant male baritone, enunciating clearly:
“Zhuo Ren Right Brain Prenatal Education Knowledge: From Conception to Delivery.”