Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 29

As Sang Baili entered the courtyard, a crisp tapping sound gently struck her eardrums.

Tap-tap, tap-tap.

In the cold, silent night, Shen Shuangjing, wearing a cream-colored padded jacket, was practicing her penguin walk on the bluestone path.

From a distance, her figure appeared distorted and elongated by the streetlights, making her look like a tiny figurine that could fit in the palm of one’s hand, waddling back and forth with endearing clumsiness.

Hearing Sang Baili’s footsteps, Shen Shuangjing turned around, her beautiful face framed by the bright lamplight, and waved her arms vigorously.

“Sister!”

Sang Baili walked over under the moonlight, noticing the rosy flush on Shen Shuangjing’s cheeks and the tip of her nose. She touched the back of her hand to Shen Shuangjing’s cheek, gauging her temperature.

Her curiosity was palpable as she asked with genuine interest, “Were you playing outside?”

“No,” Shen Shuangjing replied, her eyes curving into crescents as her breath condensed into white mist in the air.

Her cheek felt the sudden rush of warmth, openly soaking up the heat as she silently prayed for her sister’s hand to linger a little longer.

As if hearing her unspoken wish, Sang Baili kept her hand pressed against Shen Shuangjing’s cheek, showing no sign of moving it.

“Then why are you practicing your penguin walk?” Sang Baili asked.

“…Penguin?” Shen Shuangjing felt a sting of mockery. “Is it really that ridiculous?”

Shen Shuangjing puffed out her cheeks in disappointment, feeling defeated. She lifted her foot to show Sang Baili, “I’m practicing walking in high heels.”

Sang Baili’s gaze slid downward, finally noticing the slender stilettos hidden beneath Shen Shuangjing’s wide-legged jeans. She hadn’t noticed them from a distance earlier.

Ah, so that’s why.

A lazy smile spread across Sang Baili’s face, her long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings about to take flight. “Not ridiculous at all,” she said. “I just meant you’re dressed like a little penguin—so bundled up.”

Like a custard bun.

Shen Shuangjing believed her instantly, easily appeased. Her face lit up with a smile. “It’s so cold in winter! But these heels are impossible. I thought I was doing well, but when I watched Sister Manli’s last video this afternoon, I was still waddling like a duck.”

Sang Baili’s lips curved into a smile. The little one had some self-awareness, but not much.

“You’ll get used to them with practice,” she said. “The clumsy duckling will transform into a graceful swan.”

Shen Shuangjing’s eyes widened. “Really? But when I told Sister Manli I walked like a duck, she said I didn’t.”

“She thinks you walk well?” Sang Baili asked.

Her manager couldn’t possibly have a thicker filter than her own, could she?

Shen Shuangjing gazed mournfully at the moon, her almond-shaped eyes brimming with tears, wishing she could write a poem to express her indignation. “She said even a newborn duckling walks better than me!”

I don’t believe it.

Sister Manli must be lying through her teeth.

Sang Baili’s cheek twitched as she bit her lip to suppress a smile.

Her full, rosy lips became even more striking.

What do you do when your contract wife is a drama queen?

Feigning seriousness, she patted Shen Shuangjing’s soft, dark hair and said, “Maybe your manager needs new glasses.”

After pondering this earnestly, Shen Shuangjing nodded, her expression inscrutable. “I’ll suggest it to her.”

Sang Baili’s laughter flickered briefly.

Crossing her arms, she asked, “Did you find the bandages?”

She had told Shen Shuangjing over the phone that the bandages were in the bottom drawer of the corner cabinet, stored with other medications.

They would need to be searched carefully.

Worried the younger woman might not find them, Sang Baili had taken a taxi straight back to the villa, completely forgetting that Shen Shuangjing could simply order some online.

“Found them! I already put one on,” Shen Shuangjing said, frowning. “But it seems to have fallen off while I was walking. My heel is rubbing and it hurts.”

“Let me take a look when we get back inside,” Sang Baili replied.

Back in the room, Shen Shuangjing slipped off her high heels.

The bandage, repeatedly rubbed between her shoe and heel, had lost its stickiness and was barely clinging on.

Dried bloodstains were now bleeding anew.

It needed to be reapplied.

Shen Shuangjing sat on the sofa, her bare, slender foot resting on Sang Baili’s thigh, her leg bent at a sixty-degree angle.

Sang Baili gently circled Shen Shuangjing’s ankle with one hand, preparing to apply a bandage.

Logically, the heel was a difficult spot for Shen Shuangjing to reach herself, making Sang Baili’s assistance the more practical solution.

While Sang Baili applied the bandage, Shen Shuangjing kept up a steady stream of chatter, recounting the day’s audition: the perfectionist director, the exaggeratedly heavy makeup, and the half-eaten rye bread she’d left behind to look good on camera.

Sang Baili listened attentively for the most part, occasionally interjecting with questions like, “Are you tired?”

“Exhausted,” Shen Shuangjing replied.

“Was it hard work?” Sang Baili asked.

“Brutal,” Shen Shuangjing admitted.

After applying the bandage and tossing the plastic wrapper into the trash, Sang Baili looked up at her.

Their eyes met. Shen Shuangjing clutched weakly at her chest, her voice barely audible. “Sister, please recharge me.”

She was now a depleted Shen Shuangjing, on the verge of shutting down completely if not recharged immediately—doomed to become the pitiful Shen Wujing.

A mischievous glint sparkled in Sang Baili’s eyes, her lips blooming like evening cherry blossoms as she extended her arms.

“Fine, I’ll reluctantly let you experience super-fast charging just this once.”

Shen Shuangjing withdrew her leg and, like a desert traveler finding a single drop of water, threw herself into Sang Baili’s arms.

She felt a warmth that brought her a moment of peace, filling her with immense satisfaction.

Sniffing, she caught the faint fragrance emanating from Sang Baili’s body and murmured, her voice muffled, “Did you go drinking, Sister?”

The question, spoken in a calm tone, dissipated into the air, yet Sang Baili felt inexplicably guilty.

It was as if she’d been caught doing something wrong behind Shen Shuangjing’s back.

But she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Shen Shuangjing pulled back from the embrace, her pure black pupils shining with crystalline clarity beneath her thick, long lashes.

The air hung still.

Sang Baili found herself momentarily speechless.

She believed she had the right to go wherever she pleased; at her age, visiting a bar was perfectly acceptable. Yet, looking into Shen Shuangjing’s innocent, deer-like eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Shen Shuangjing sighed with an air of maturity beyond her years. “Sister, you shouldn’t drink too much when you’re out. It makes me worry.”

When drunk, Sang Baili became both docile and alluring, and Shen Shuangjing feared she might be taken advantage of by unscrupulous people.

Sang Baili hesitated, her wrist rubbing against the bellflower tattoo until it flushed pink. “I went to a bar,” she finally admitted.

“But I didn’t drink anything. The smell must have gotten on me by accident.”

Shen Shuangjing sensed she was hiding something, her heart skipped a beat, and she asked warily, “It wasn’t some shady bar, was it?”

She remembered the clause in their marriage agreement about maintaining fidelity.

Sang Baili recalled the agreement too and felt compelled to explain, but doing so felt absurd, like a man returning from a business dinner only to have his wife find lipstick on his shirt and demand he prove his innocence.

The analogy wasn’t perfect, but both situations teetered on the edge of compromised innocence. What was even more humiliating was that Sang Baili still wanted to explain.

Perhaps it was due to her inherent virtue and noble character.

A hint of embarrassment flickered in her beautiful eyes as Sang Baili forced a casual tone. “No, it wasn’t. Some people tried to flirt, but I turned them all down.”

Shen Shuangjing: “Oh.”

Sang Baili glanced at her anxiously. “You don’t believe me? They chatted with me briefly and then left on their own.”

Shen Shuangjing, with an air of righteous conviction: “I believe you.”

Many were initially captivated by Sang Baili’s alluring facade, but upon attempting to approach her, they quickly discovered her icy indifference and polite detachment.

Beneath her charming exterior lay a cold and domineering nature.

She could make people feel as if they were basking in a warm spring breeze, but becoming her friend was nearly impossible.

Suddenly, long-buried memories resurfaced.

Shen Shuangjing hugged her younger self, whispering, “When I first met you, I almost left too.”

The beautiful and charismatic woman’s cold-blooded negotiation tactics were no joke—they could freeze you to the bone.

It was her unwavering belief in money that kept Shen Shuangjing firmly rooted in her place.

Sang Baili raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “And now? What do you think now?”

Shen Shuangjing smiled, her bare face glowing impossibly beautiful in the sunlight. Her starry eyes sparkled with mischief as she replied, “What do you think, Sister?”

Sang Baili’s coldness was never directed at those close to her.

Over time, Shen Shuangjing’s initial awe dissolved, replaced by an ever-growing sense of warmth and familiarity.

Shen Shuangjing believed Sang Baili was the most wonderful boss in the world, and her presence was her safe haven.

Just as she patiently nurtured her pet cloud Wuyun, Sang Baili patiently nurtured her.

Shen Shuangjing declared unreasonably, “I’m my sister’s million-dollar investment. How could she possibly be indifferent to her own million dollars? Right?”

Sang Baili chuckled, her affectionate eyes teasing, “My million dollars, you say?”

Shen Shuangjing shook her head gently, her bright eyes and pearly teeth gleaming. “Exactly.”

The more she thought about it, the more she felt her sister had gotten a great deal.

For a million dollars, she’d found such a wonderful “wife.”

Someone who could cook, decorate rooms, act the part of a perfect wife, and even provide emotional support.

A twenty-four-hour on-call system—ready to serve whenever her sister needed her.

No days off, all year round.

What a bargain!

Her sister had truly struck gold.

Shen Shuangjing gazed at Sang Baili with eyes that seemed to say, “Sister, you’ve really hit the jackpot!”

Sang Baili’s deep, slender eyes flicked toward Shen Shuangjing, her gaze filled with allure and a hint of agreement.

Indeed, it was her million dollars.

She had to constantly watch out for outsiders trying to take advantage, be ready to act out any role at a moment’s notice, recharge promptly when exhausted, offer Coconut Candy when she was sad, keep her warm in winter, bandage her scrapes and bruises, and add a hefty six million to every million spent.

But…

Sang Baili rested her chin in her hand, her crimson lips curving into a delicate smile. Her luminous eyes turned slowly toward Shen Shuangjing as she asked, her voice laced with mock confusion, “Whose million dollars is this hard to maintain?”