Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 11

To wear the crown, one must bear its weight.

Sang Baili wanted to become Madam Sang, a woman of impeccable taste, adorned with wealth beyond measure.

Therefore, Madam Sang had to learn to spend money. Using a credit card with no spending limit, she would acquire countless luxury cars, watches, jewelry, diamonds, and limited-edition high-end items to maintain her image as a wife of the elite.

Shen Shuangjing examined the card in her palm—a thin, black rectangle that seemed to reflect the cold light of the endless night.

But she couldn’t feign sadness. For her, spending money had never been a punishment.

As the saying goes, “What cures all woes? Sudden riches!”

In Shen Shuangjing’s mind, nothing was more stress-relieving than spending money. Now that she had achieved “sudden riches,” how could spending it be considered a punishment?

She was more than happy to help Sang Baili alleviate the burden of having too much money.

The loose-fitting trench coat concealed her figure, and in the night wind, the thin outerwear made Shen Shuangjing’s tall, slender frame appear even more delicate.

She genuinely considered Sang Baili’s interests. “But many luxury brands are difficult to resell. Some can’t even be converted to cash. Wouldn’t that be a waste of your money?”

A very long-term perspective.

Sang Baili raised her delicate eyebrows, unable to recall the last person who had cared so deeply about her feelings.

Against the backlight, her mountain-like brows and eyes carried a hint of amusement. “No, I’ve already gotten what I wanted.”

A contractual wife who had unexpectedly exceeded her expectations.

Shen Shuangjing smiled, her dark hair like a cloud, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling with charm. “Then I can rest assured.”

As a proper contractual wife, she would do her utmost to spend Sang Baili’s money.

Night fell, and the city lights began to twinkle.

Shen Shuangjing, feeling a bit sleepy, yawned.

After returning home, she first searched online for luxury goods that retained their value well, hoping to minimize Sang Baili’s future losses. She figured that Sang Baili would likely no longer need the luxury items after their one-year agreement ended, and the future Madam Sang certainly wouldn’t use them either. Therefore, buying items that held their value seemed the most sensible approach. Perhaps she could even resell some of them after a year to recoup some of the money.

Heh heh, Shen Shuangjing, the absolute genius.

To her surprise, many luxury handbags retained their value, and some limited-edition designer bags with impeccable craftsmanship and unique textures actually sold for far more than their original price on the secondhand market, making them highly collectible.

Using Sang Baili’s Black Card, Shen Shuangjing registered for membership on the Mansha Luxury Website and reserved several luxury handbags and watches.

Mansha is an online platform offering reservation and purchase services for high-end luxury goods such as watches, branded bags, and other premium items. Its clientele consists of the wealthy and influential. Users can register accounts using their Black Cards, and after real-name authentication, their personal information remains strictly private. Neither customer service representatives nor other buyers can access any user-related personal details beyond the automatically generated customer ID. They can only see whether a product has been reserved or purchased, ensuring exceptional privacy.

Shen Shuangjing had also read online that Mansha’s mysterious financial backing came from a highly reputable top-tier tycoon in Hushi, a business magnate with formidable influence and vast wealth. This individual had established a sprawling commercial empire both domestically and internationally. The website was originally created for their own convenience in shopping, resulting in stringent management, minimal profit margins, and no need for users to worry about the site’s reliability, potential closure, or the risk of purchasing counterfeit goods.

After making her reservations, Shen Shuangjing didn’t rest. Her energy levels were always high. She opened a drawer and retrieved a walnut the size of a tangyuan.

Folk wisdom held that “one peach suppresses a hundred woods, one walnut wards off a thousand evils.”

In ancient times, walnuts were associated with “escaping misfortune” and were revered by commoners and royalty alike as auspicious talismans against evil. People believed walnuts could drive away misfortune and ensure peace and safety.

The walnut in Shen Shuangjing’s hand, meticulously carved, polished, and buffed over the past few days, glowed with a warm, jade-like luster. She planned to gift it to Sang Baili’s grandmother in a few days.

Before she could thread the red cord through it, a soft knock came from the door.

“Coming!”

Shen Shuangjing walked over and opened the door, glancing down at the woman standing there with a hint of surprise.

“Aren’t you asleep yet?”

Sang Baili wore a pale white silk nightgown with a high slit, her snow-white neck and shoulders slender and graceful. Beneath her delicate, deer-antler-like collarbones lay her slender yet voluptuous upper body.

Every curve was perfectly placed.

Her waist was as supple as a willow branch.

Her crane-feather-like lashes lifted slightly, revealing dark pupils hidden in shadow, like precious jewels. The corridor light cast her slender, alluring figure into sharp relief, giving her an almost ethereal, fairy-like presence.

Sang Baili murmured, “I already had my first sleep. I saw your light was on and worried you might be running a fever again like last time, so I came to check on you.”

Her voice, tinged with the dampness of the night air, carried an unintentional seductiveness, brimming with sensual undertones that stirred the imagination.

For a moment, Shen Shuangjing, a self-confessed beauty enthusiast, was literally mesmerized, unable to tear her gaze away.

She quickly snapped out of her daze, her gaze falling on Sang Baili’s nightgown. “I don’t remember you wearing this tonight,” she remarked casually.

The corners of Sang Baili’s lips tightened, a momentary chill flashing in her eyes.

In her mind, she was already tearing the culprit to shreds.

The situation was simple: the culprit was her mischievous childhood friend, Fang Han, who had indiscriminately targeted everyone around her. The evidence was a compressed file Fang Han had sent her days ago, which Sang Baili had never bothered to open.

It all started tonight when Sang Baili, unable to sleep, opened the movie file Fang Han had sent and randomly selected a film to play.

The beginning seemed normal enough: the President was working in her spacious 200-square-meter office, occasionally discussing work matters with her secretary. But as they talked, their gazes locked, the tension palpable even through the screen. Inevitably, they kissed, their bodies pressing together.

Curious to see how the President would overcome her work challenges, Sang Baili frowned and watched for over ten minutes as the video grew increasingly explicit. Just as the two women began stripping completely—the kind of scene that would never pass censorship—Sang Baili finally realized that Fang Han had sent her a pornographic film, not a legitimate movie.

After a moment of speechless silence, Sang Baili blocked the sender and forced herself to sleep.

But she had a dream.

In the dream, she was working in her office. Her assistant, whose face was blurred, leaned down to hand her coffee. As she glanced up, her gaze was drawn to the pale, thin lips so close to her. The full, rosy cupid’s bow on the upper lip felt strangely familiar. Without further thought, she leaned in and kissed them, as if under a spell.

It was like tasting sweet nectar. Their lips and tongues intertwined, reluctant to part.

Lost in passion, the temperature seemed to rise.

Her hand pressed against the other person’s waist, feeling the tautness of their abs. Just as she began to caress them, she heard a soft chuckle. The assistant’s slender, jade-like fingers, long and strong, pressed down on her wandering hand with a sensual grip.

“Sister, don’t touch.”

The soft, lingering voice carried a hint of danger, reminding her of someone. A clear, ethereal face flashed through her mind, her heart pounding inexplicably. Distracted, she half-lifted her eyelids, her shimmering eyes glancing up before returning to the assistant’s face.