It’s Okay to Divorce - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Chen Sheng walked over from the crowd to the mountain path entrance and greeted Mu Mian, “Mianmian.”

“Why are you here?” Mu Mian asked, puzzled.

Yun Pei jumped down from the rock, descended the steps, and used her petite frame to block Chen Sheng. In a less-than-friendly tone, she said to Mu Mian, “He’s my personal doctor. What? Got a problem with that, Teacher Mu?”

“No, not at all,” Mu Mian replied, rubbing her belly. “How could I dare have an issue with Miss Yun? Dr. Chen, why bother climbing the mountain and suffering like this? Two hours of mountain trail isn’t exactly humane.”

Chen Sheng chuckled softly. “Think of it as exercise. It took quite a bit of effort to find an excuse to come up here.” His words carried an undertone, as if hinting to Mu Mian that he’d gone through a lot just to see her.

Yun Pei wasn’t sure how close the two were, but she’d heard that Chen Sheng used to be Mu Mian’s personal doctor. Now that he was hers, the girl’s vanity swelled a little, as if she’d already trampled Mu Mian underfoot and embarrassed her thoroughly.

The No. 1 mountain path entrance was packed with crew members and vehicles. Staff carried equipment and headed up the mountain one after another.

Zou Tingshen had changed into a black tracksuit, looking light and agile, his tall, slender figure accentuated by the outfit. He walked over, glanced at Mu Mian, and frowned. “Didn’t you know we’d be hiking today?”

Mu Mian usually wore heels, but since getting pregnant, she’d switched to flat, low-heeled leather shoes. She was still wearing them now, and at this rate, her feet would be wrecked before they reached the top—if not completely ruined.

It seemed Zou Tingshen had anticipated she’d wear low-heeled leather shoes, so he’d specifically asked his assistant to prepare a pair of sneakers for her.

Mu Mian took the sneakers, sat on a rock as a stool, and changed into them. She tested them out with a few steps. “Not bad at all. These are really lightweight. Emperor Zou, you’re quite thoughtful.”

The shoes were so light and the soles so comfortable that she couldn’t suppress the urge to bounce. She jumped once.

Zou Tingshen’s heart skipped a beat right along with her, breaking out in a cold sweat.

Just as Mu Mian was about to jump a second time, he quickly reached out and pressed down on her shoulder. “Don’t jump…”

Chen Sheng watched their intimate interaction, and his gentle gaze unconsciously darkened.

“Dr. Chen?” Yun Pei poked his shoulder with her finger, then followed his line of sight to see her idol acting so close with Mu Mian.

Like many fans, she firmly believed the two would never end up together, but she couldn’t stand seeing her beloved star getting too cozy with a woman she despised. It made her incredibly depressed—the more she watched, the more annoyed she got.

Yun Pei reached out, grabbed Chen Sheng’s wrist, and dragged him upward. “Dr. Chen, let’s go. Hopefully, we can make it in time for the temple’s vegetarian meal.”

Chen Sheng nodded, subtly pulling his wrist free. As they left, he glanced back at Mu Mian one more time. He asked Yun Pei, “They seem to get along well?”

Yun Pei scoffed. “They’ve worked together, after all. How bad could it be?” She’d originally thought their relationship was pretty poor, but after the insulated porridge incident last time, she realized it was just hype for their collaboration.

Chen Sheng seemed lost in thought, preoccupied. Yun Pei tried chatting with him every few minutes, but the rugged, steep mountain path wore her out after half an hour, so she gave up and fell silent.

When she looked back, Mu Mian and Zou Tingshen were long out of sight.

Chen Sheng stopped in place, pulled out his phone, and frowned as he dialed a number. There was no signal on the mountain, so the call to Mu Mian wouldn’t connect at all.

—

The mountain path was shrouded by dense trees, blocking out the sky.

Even without the scorching sun, Mu Mian’s body quickly reached its limit. Her assistant and bodyguards followed closely, urging her to “unload” her belly for the climb, but this belly… it wasn’t something she could just remove at will, was it?

Mu Mian sat on a rock, cradling her belly as she rested.

Zou Tingshen had slowed his pace because of her, so he and his assistant sat down to rest too, sipping water. He glanced in Mu Mian’s direction, set down his bottle, and walked over to her. “How are you holding up? Stamina okay?”

“I… I can’t go on,” she said. Sweat had soaked through her thin clothes, drenching her forehead and neck. She panted heavily, each word seeming to drain her last bit of energy. “Zou Tingshen, I’m really done. You guys go ahead. I’ll camp here on the mountainside with my assistant and bodyguards, rest overnight, and continue up in the morning.”

It was already six in the afternoon, and the sun was setting.

At Mu Mian’s pace, they probably wouldn’t reach the destination until tomorrow night.

Zou Tingshen pondered for a moment, then said, “My stamina’s not great either. I’ll camp here with you tonight. I’ll have my assistant go up ahead and let the director know.”

She nodded, slumping against the rock, completely unable to move. The sweat on her back cooled quickly, and a chilly mountain breeze made her shiver.

Once the tent was set up, Assistant Li Wen came over to help her inside to rest. She fetched some mountain spring water, mixed it with hot water from a thermos, and wet a towel for Mu Mian to wipe herself down.

Mu Mian carefully dried off her sweat. As she dressed, she glanced down at her rounded belly—it was plump and full, as if a little life was really swimming inside like a tiny fish.

The sensation was wondrous. Mu Mian couldn’t help but cradle it with her hands, staring for a long while.

By the time she emerged from the tent, it was already dark outside, and a campfire had been lit. Zou Tingshen sat by the fire, toasting slices of steamed buns on a metal skewer, the flames charring them to a tempting golden brown.

Mu Mian sat down nearby and watched for a moment. Hunger suddenly overwhelmed every nerve in her body. She scooted closer to him, like a greedy little cat, licking her lips with eyes sparkling.

Zou Tingshen turned his head and saw her eyes gleaming with the firelight, so bright and vivid. Then he looked at her swollen belly, and his heart melted into a puddle.

The scene felt like his wife, pregnant with their baby, out on a picnic with him. The usually feisty little beast had suddenly turned utterly docile—the contrast left him dazed, as if the icy shell around his heart was cracking away piece by piece, revealing a rare softness beneath.

Such a harmonious moment with a wife—had it only ever appeared in his dreams?

He longed for a family more than anyone, yet feared having one more than anyone. He dreaded the happiness being stripped away by cruel reality, dreaded his child facing parental separation…

He still couldn’t believe he was about to become a father. Only seeing Mu Mian’s belly made it feel somewhat real. He’d married a woman he had no feelings for, all for the child—and yet, in this moment, that woman was giving him a fleeting illusion of homey warmth.

“Old Zou, can I have some of that?” Mu Mian poked his elbow with her finger, asking tentatively. She was starving, with no appetite for the self-heating rice her assistant had prepared, but she was unexpectedly drawn to Zou Tingshen’s charred bun slice.

Zou Tingshen snapped back to reality and hummed in agreement.

Mu Mian grinned. “Sprinkle a bit of pepper on it for me, thanks.”

Zou Tingshen did as she asked, dusting the bun slice with pepper. The excess powder burned away in the flames, intensifying the aroma in the air and stirring up her appetite even more.

Once the bun slice was ready, Mu Mian blew on it gently and took a small bite. It crunched between her teeth, filling her mouth with toasty flavor.

Delicious…

After filling her belly, the assistant and bodyguards wandered off, leaving Mu Mian and Zou Ting Shen to sit by the campfire and stargaze. These past few months had been a whirlwind of busyness, with little time for such leisure.

The stars above were vast and brilliant. The girl tilted her face up, looking content from the relaxation and full stomach. Zou Tingshen quietly watched her profile.

She propped one hand on the grass, the other stroking her abdomen, and took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. Then she asked him, “Old Zou, let me ask you—are you really not planning to clear up that drug thing?”

“Is it necessary?” Zou Tingshen replied. “For something like this, explaining once is enough. A second time would just make them think I’m guilty. People who’ve followed me long-term know my personality—they know I rarely speak up to defend myself.”

“Your PR team isn’t bad. How did this news stay dominating the gossip forums for so long? Is it incompetence on their part, or did you piss someone off?” She didn’t really want to meddle in other people’s business, especially since this news didn’t directly affect her.

She’d been hauled into the police station with Zou Tingshen, so they’d shared hardship. That’s why she brought it up—to remind him to be careful.

Of course, Zou Tingshen understood all this. He said, “This news will die down soon. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Who’s worrying about you?” Mu Mian scoffed. “I’m worrying about myself. Shooting a drama with you means I’m easily dragged down with you, okay?”

Zou Tingshen asked her, “Have you heard of Feng Xia Studio?”

“Hm?” Mu Mian nodded, thought for a bit, and nodded again. “That’s the PR team that left your company, right? What, you suspect they’re targeting you on purpose?”

“No,” Zou Tingshen said, his clear eyes fixed on her. “They’re not that bored—hurting others without benefiting themselves. They probably took someone’s money.”

“Took whose money?” Mu Mian pressed.

Zou Tingshen’s voice was calm, but his eyes held emotions Mu Mian couldn’t decipher. “Who stands to gain the most from this?”

She thought for a moment, then realized and snapped angrily, “Zou Tingshen, are you suspecting me? Get this straight—I have no reason to do something so sleazy!”

Online rumors painted Mu Mian as the victim Zou Tingshen had dragged into the mess, so these past few days, she’d received a lot of sympathy and attention as a result. Mu Mian had been in the headlines nonstop lately, with both good and bad buzz, but overall, it was trending positive for her.

“If it’s you, that’s fine. If not…” Zou Tingshen’s tone held no blame as he continued, “Then there’s only one explanation.”

Mu Mian frowned. “What?”

“Stirring up discord,” Zou Tingshen said, his expression turning complex. “This person must be close to us, hidden deep.”

Mu Mian shivered inexplicably, her hair standing on end.

Zou Tingshen patted her shoulder reassuringly. “If that’s really the goal, we need to prepare for a long fight. Sowing discord isn’t something done overnight.”

“…”

Someone close? It couldn’t be Yun Pei—that girl had a bad personality, but she wouldn’t waste energy on this, especially not by stepping on her own idol.

Then who?

“My brain’s been foggy since getting pregnant. So tell me, what should we do?”

“The more they try to drive us apart, the more we need to maintain frequent close contact. When necessary, we can post things online to gradually shift us from ‘enemies’ to ‘friends’ beyond the ordinary—change the public’s impression of us.”

Mu Mian didn’t quite understand why they suddenly needed to guide netizens to change their views, but Zou Tingshen’s reasoning seemed sound.

Doing this might just piss off that sneaky bastard behind the scenes??

Zou Tingshen suggested this largely to prepare for when they eventually announced their marriage.