Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 34

Shen Shuangjing submitted her 70,000-word character biography. After Guo Yu found time to read it, he informed her that she could officially join the production team the next day.

She no longer needed to rush between the film set during the day and the bar at night. Instead, she only needed to arrive on set promptly when her scenes were scheduled to be filmed.

The Night of the Murder Chase production team would notify actors of the week’s filming schedule a week in advance, but the reality often deviated from the ideal plan. Sometimes, unforeseen circumstances—such as an actor’s condition or the lighting environment on set—would delay the completion of a scene.

Once a scene’s filming was delayed, it would disrupt the afternoon or evening’s schedule, forcing the original plan to be postponed or canceled.

Most of Shen Shuangjing’s scenes took place in the bar and were scheduled for evening shoots. As a result, she frequently arrived on set only to have her filming canceled because the previous scene with the lead actors hadn’t finished.

Her assistant protested the unfairness, but Shen Shuangjing herself didn’t mind. Whether she had scenes to film or not, she made sure to be present on set.

Observing and learning from a Golden Elephant Award-winning Best Actress’s performance on set was an opportunity money couldn’t buy.

“Spending every day on set—aren’t you catching a cold?” Sang Baili asked, propping her chin in her hand as she watched Shen Shuangjing, reduced to a mini version on her phone screen.

Shen Shuangjing had just finished showering, her half-long hair slightly disheveled and tucked behind her ears. Though exhausted from a night of filming, she hadn’t forgotten to video call her Beautiful Boss to report on her daily life.

Wearing pajamas, she leaned against the headboard of the hotel’s king-size bed, holding the phone close to her face. Her long, water-beaded lashes fluttered, as if they could brush against the screen. “No, I drink so much…”

She tried to gesture, then realized she was holding the phone. Freeing one hand, she spread her thumb and forefinger apart at a 120-degree angle. “This big a bowl of ginger soup. The director had the crew’s chef prepare it.”

A cold would be a nuisance, affecting the actress’s performance and delaying the filming schedule. Guo Yu’s meticulousness had already slowed progress considerably, so he was taking extra precautions to prevent any further disruptions.

Sang Baili responded with a meaningful hum, saying, “So, you’ve been going to the set every day just to mooch ginger soup?”

A faint blush crept across Shen Shuangjing’s face. She kicked off the covers, sat up in a single fluid motion, and emphasized, “Studying! I’m there to study the performances of the country’s top actors up close. The warmers, hot water bottles, and ginger soup are just convenient perks.”

Her pajamas slipped off her shoulder with the movement, revealing a stretch of snow-white skin that seemed to glow through the screen, like a porcelain spirit who had attained enlightenment.

Sang Baili’s gaze couldn’t help but drift across the exposed skin, and something exploded in her heart.

Her throat felt parched, and she swallowed hard, quickly snapping a screenshot. “Alright, you’re there to study. Now, put your clothes back on.”

Shen Shuangjing glanced sideways at her fallen pajamas, pulled them back up to her shoulder, and explained, “This pajama set I brought is a bit too big and keeps slipping down.”

Sang Baili asked a seemingly unrelated question, “Do you guys usually go to the director’s room at night to discuss the script?”

Shen Shuangjing replied, “Why do you ask? It’s rare.”

Sang Baili smiled nonchalantly. “It’s nothing. Just don’t wear this at night anymore. It doesn’t look warm enough.”

Shen Shuangjing had only brought this one set of pajamas. She joked, “Can’t do that. If I don’t wear this, I’ll have to go naked.”

Sang Baili’s stunning face flushed inexplicably. “Then… go to the mall and buy some.”

Shen Shuangjing hummed, confused. “No need. It’s not like this one’s torn. I can make do.”

A notification popped up on the screen: “Successful transfer.”

Sang Baili cleared her throat. “Go to the mall and get something that fits properly. As my contractual wife, you need to maintain a presentable image, both in public and at the hotel.”

Shen Shuangjing glanced at the transfer record, her almond-shaped eyes curving into a smile.

She patted her chest, her voice soft and melodious as she promised, “Absolutely! Don’t worry, Sister. Maintaining your wife’s image is my unwavering responsibility. I’ll go shopping tomorrow at noon! I’ll send you photos of my new outfit that night.”

Sang Baili nodded, satisfied. “Good. I’ll be waiting for your photos. Do you still have filming scheduled for tomorrow morning and afternoon?”

“Mm,” Shen Shuangjing replied. “That’s why I only have time to go out at noon. After all, I need to study secretly and amaze everyone. Isn’t that impressive?”

A hint of a smile flickered across Sang Baili’s face. Dressed in black loungewear, her seaweed-like curls draped over one shoulder, she said, “Very impressive. Should we have your agent write a press release to promote it? Something like ‘Eight Hours in Freezing Conditions: This Actor Is Unbelievable’? What do you think?”

Not really.

Shen Shuangjing’s bright eyes met hers, her gaze shifting slightly. “That’s nothing compared to Xiao Xiao’s dedication. Only a true workaholic like her deserves such a sensational… sensational headline.”

Sang Baili’s smile vanished, her expression remaining detached. She asked casually, “Who’s Xiao Xiao?”

Feeling a bit hungry but wary of overeating due to her diet, Shen Shuangjing grabbed her thermos and took a sip of water to tide her over. “The female lead’s name in the script. I’m using the characters’ names to refer to people now, to get into character.”

Not only that, she had even asked the assistant director and the kitchen staff to call her Zhong Zhong, the name of the third female lead in the script.

The method was working well; Shen Shuangjing was increasingly able to empathize with Zhong Zhong’s feelings.

“But…” Shen Shuangjing licked her moist lips, recalling, “Even though I’ve been on set for a week, I’m not close to her at all.”

She only dared to refer to Best Actress Jiang as “Xiao Xiao” behind her back. In person, she always addressed her respectfully as “Teacher Jiang.”

Although the script’s female lead was three years younger than the third female lead, in reality, Best Actress Jiang was seven or eight years older than Shen Shuangjing. With her cool, aloof demeanor, Shen Shuangjing didn’t dare approach her.

Sang Baili’s voice relaxed. “Want to get closer? I know Jiang Mei. I could put in a good word for you and arrange a dinner together.”

Shen Shuangjing considered it. “No need. It’s not necessary. I can separate reality from the script. I just need to remember that Zhong Zhong’s friend is Xiao Xiao.”

“Alright,” Sang Baili nodded, a starry smile twinkling in her beautiful eyes. “Who are Xiao Jing’s real-life friends?”

Without hesitation, Shen Shuangjing replied, “Xiao Bai.”

Ugh, spit it out!

I said the wrong name!

Shen Shuangjing rubbed her itchy nose. “I meant Elder Sister.”

Sang Baili raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Xiao Bai?”

“I meant to say ‘Sister,’ but my brain hadn’t fully caught up,” Shen Shuangjing said. “I thought Xiao Jing corresponded to Xiao Bai. You didn’t think I was talking about someone else, did you?”

Sang Baili teased her, “I thought you were referring to Special Assistant Sheng’s little dog.”

Shen Shuangjing retorted with mock indignation, “Sister, I won’t allow you to speak about yourself like that.”

Sang Baili blinked in confusion.

My hands are itching.

I want to pinch that audacious Little Whale.

Sang Baili stared at the screen, a half-smile playing on her lips. “Shen Xiaojing, do you think you’re safe just because I can’t reach you right now?”

Her words carried a clear threat, yet the smile in her voice added an unsettling undercurrent of excitement, like a sharp blade adorned with delicate flowers.

In Shen Shuangjing’s almond-shaped eyes, a mischievous spark danced, igniting a ticklish itch in Sang Baili’s heart. “Could Sister reach me even if she tried?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

Without waiting for Sang Baili’s reply, she quickly yawned, her eyes still half-closed with sleepiness. “Sister, it’s getting late. I have an early shoot tomorrow, so I’m going to bed now. Good night.”

The video call abruptly ended, cutting off the last syllable of her “good night.”

Sang Baili stared blankly at the darkened screen for a moment before snapping back to reality. The screen reflected her eyes, which held a helpless smile.

I really want to reach through the internet cable, drag that little runaway back here, and give her a proper lesson.