Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 36

Shen Shuangjing took a sip of water, trying to hide her reaction.

The phone’s speaker wasn’t loud, but because she was holding it, the sound transmitted clearly through the microphone into Shen Shuangjing’s ear.

In that instant, Shen Shuangjing’s earlobe felt like it had been electrified, tingling with a numb, itchy sensation.

Her ear warmed slightly. She rubbed it gently, her lashes drooping slightly as her dark eyes flickered, inadvertently glancing toward Jiang Mei. Seeing Jiang Mei’s eyes lowered as she focused on picking up food, Shen Shuangjing’s gaze returned to the phone screen.

“Special attention…” she murmured to herself. Setting special attention is common. What’s trendy about that? If I want to stay ahead of the curve, I still have a lot to learn.

Still, for Sang Baili, who rarely used Weibo, setting special attention was unusual. Maybe she’s finally catching up with the times. But when Shen Shuangjing thought about it, with my fascinating, humorous, and vibrant life, who could resist following my captivating Weibo?

Nobody.

Sang Baili’s Weibo follow proved her taste, interests, and hobbies were all top-tier, deserving of universal praise.

Tapping the screen, Shen Shuangjing typed, “Sang Baili, you still need to work harder to become trendy.” Her fingertip hovered over the send button for a moment before she deleted the message, character by character.

Forget it, forget it. She’s just a trendsetter, at the very forefront of fashion. Sang Baili’s attention was like holding the key to the pinnacle of style. No matter how hard she tried to become more fashionable, there was no room for improvement.

Shen Shuangjing turned off her phone screen, pulled a golden starfish pillow from under her desk, and lay down to rest.

Sang Baili glanced at her silent phone for a moment, then turned to pick up a pen and review the problematic hotel development project that had been submitted earlier.

It was three in the afternoon.

After typing the final word on her computer, Sang Baili closed her tired eyes and stretched her slender, jade-like neck.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow across the room.

Sang Baili stood up, paused by her desk, and glanced at her phone again.

Still no reply to her last voice message.

Is she too shy to respond to my special attention?

The little one’s skin is too thin.

She thought to herself, tapping Shen Shuangjing’s profile picture, intending to check her Moments. But her hand slipped, and she accidentally tapped the profile picture again. Instead of opening Moments, a system prompt popped up:

System Prompt: I patted Big Whale Eats Little Whale.

Sang Baili: “?”

If social death had a name, it would definitely be a plagiarism of mine.

Seizing the opportunity while Shen Shuangjing wasn’t looking, she quickly tapped “Undo.”

Then, realizing that Shen Shuangjing’s silence should be making her overthink, President Sang, who had just learned how to use the “Pat” feature that day, decisively and confidently patted Little Whale again.

System Prompt: I patted Big Whale Eats Little Whale.

The evening’s filming location was set in a dead-end alley behind a bar.

The narrow alley was piled high with discarded cardboard boxes, broken tiles, a dilapidated sofa, and overturned stools. With no streetlights, the pale moonlight was the only source of illumination.

A slender woman leaned against the wall, wearing a generic black miniskirt, pilling flesh-toned stockings, and a plain gray wool coat.

Her dark hair was braided into a single plait, and the biting wind gently stirred the wisps that framed her face. Her straight, slender legs formed a flawless curve.

She idly crumpled a leftover candy wrapper in her hand. Despite her heavy makeup, her face retained an innocent charm that, combined with her provocative attire, created an indescribably genuine and playful allure.

A faint rustling sound came from nearby. The woman shifted her pose, revealing half of her exquisite profile in the moonlight. Recognizing the approaching figure, a faint smile curved her lips as she offered a soft greeting.

Guo Yu sat behind the monitor, his hands clasped, his gaze fixed intently on Shen Shuangjing’s radiant smile on the screen.

This scene marked the first time Jiang Mei and Shen Shuangjing had acted together.

After the Female Lead and Third Female Lead met, the Female Lead frequently sought out the Third Female Lead to chat and deepen their bond, hoping to uncover more of the bar’s hidden secrets. Gradually, the Third Female Lead grew closer to the Female Lead, transitioning from polite indifference to viewing her as the only friend with whom she could truly confide.

Shen Shuangjing spoke first, her gaze sweeping over Jiang Mei. “How did you know I was here?”

“Just a guess,” Jiang Mei replied. “This bar’s so small, there aren’t many places to hide and rest.”

Jiang Mei, wearing the same cheap little black dress as Shen Shuangjing, slowly approached. “This is a good spot—quiet, no one bothers you, lets you clear your head. The music inside is pounding so hard it’s giving me a headache. I finally found a chance to slip out for a smoke.”

She pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and asked, “You don’t smoke?”

Having worked here so long, she’d rarely seen a server who didn’t smoke. The person before her was one of the few exceptions.

Nicotine stimulates the brain to release dopamine, seemingly alleviating the exhaustion and weariness of the night.

Shen Shuangjing’s reply was concise: “It’s not that I don’t smoke, but cigarettes are too expensive. I smoke sparingly.”

She only lit up when she was particularly happy or overwhelmed by frustration.

Jiang Mei offered her a cigarette. “Here, have one.”

Shen Shuangjing’s dark, clear eyes paused for a moment before she accepted it.

The lighter illuminated her face, casting flickering shadows across her eyes.

Her cold, reddened index and ring fingers held the cigarette. Ash fell softly, cooling instantly before being swept away by the wind.

She looked at Jiang Mei, the warm firelight casting her shadow on the wall. For a fleeting moment, Jiang Mei felt disoriented, as if the person before her were shrinking, her silhouette merging with the image of the little match girl from the fairy tale.

“Why did you want to be friends with me?”

The question, filled with hope yet tinged with caution, landed lightly but carried weight, piercing Jiang Mei’s eardrums like a little girl’s first earnest wish.

Jiang Mei suddenly couldn’t bear to meet her gaze.

“Cut!”

The shot had turned out better than expected—a pleasant surprise. Guo Yu, unusually amiable, announced the end of the day’s work, allowing the entire crew to leave three hours early that evening.

On the way back, the assistant director and Guo Yushun happened to be going the same way. Guo Yushun couldn’t help but glance at the assistant director, who was trying to maintain a calm facade but whose face was contorted in a strained, exaggerated expression, as if desperately trying to suppress laughter. Finally, she couldn’t resist asking, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, it’s just…” The assistant director cleared his throat, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Director, you’re a master at capturing that ambiguous, tension-filled atmosphere of socialist sisterhood! Watching their interactions on set almost made me howl with delight. That scene where the female lead held out a lighter for the Third Female Lead to light her cigarette was especially powerful. When the film is released, audiences will definitely be shouting, ‘This ship is so shippable!'”

Guo Yu fell silent. “I was filming a friendship,” he said.

The assistant director declared emphatically, “And that’s exactly the friendship I’m shipping!”

Guo Yu suspected otherwise.

The film’s core focus was mystery and suspense, with friendship, romance, and other subplots serving to enhance the central narrative. While the assistant director had clearly missed the point, Guo Yu remained confident that audiences would see the truth when the film was released.

Shen Shuangjing returned to her hotel room that evening and noticed Sang Baili had tapped her.

She tapped Sang Baili back.

AAA Beautiful Boss: ?

System Prompt: AAA Beautiful Boss tapped you.

Big Whale Eats Little Whale: Sis, look at the pajamas I bought~

Sang Baili didn’t find pajamas particularly interesting, so she replied with a reserved, “Okay.”

Shen Shuangjing sent a photo of herself wearing the pajamas.

Sang Baili opened it. The girl was wearing yellow Pikachu pajamas, bathed in warm orange light, taking a selfie. Her bright eyes and pearly white teeth shone as she struck a cool pose, her thumb and forefinger pinching her chin.

Sang Baili paused.

AAA Beautiful Boss: They look warm.

Big Whale Eats Little Whale: I bought an even more exciting set too! Want to see the photo~?

Sang Baili’s eyes flickered. She didn’t really need to see it, but Shen Shuangjing’s eagerness to share was overwhelming, and she was willing to be the recipient of her enthusiasm.

AAA Beautiful Boss: Okay.

Shen Shuangjing sent another photo, expressing her excitement with five exclamation marks!

Big Whale Eats Little Whale: Pretty, right!!!!!

Sang Baili stared at the Crayon Shin-chan plush pajamas in silence, scouring every corner of the photo for any hint of “excitement.” Perplexed, she finally replied with a simple, “Pretty.”

Shen Shuangjing chuckled, clutching her phone, and then asked if her sore throat had improved.

Sang Baili rubbed her red lips, no longer believing Shen Shuangjing’s subtle hints. She replied, “It’s better now.”

As expected, Shen Shuangjing sent a photo—a candid shot of Sang Baili walking, her profile captured in a gray coat.

Not even her face was visible.

Sang Baili’s heart remained as still as a pond. She forced herself to compliment the coat, which looked ordinary and utterly unremarkable, like something you’d find at a street market.

Unexpectedly, Shen Shuangjing replied, “Sent the wrong one.”

Immediately after, she sent a selfie.

The photo was unfiltered, taken with the phone’s native camera.

The woman wore a sleeveless black minidress that hugged her curves, accentuating her slender, sensual figure. Her exposed arms were ivory-white, their lines graceful and toned. A teardrop necklace nestled between her snow-white collarbones, shimmering with brilliant light.

She gazed directly into the camera, her ink-black eyes bright and flawless, as if they held a pool of spring water—an unforgettable sight. Her thin lips, painted with a peach oolong lip gloss, curved slightly, full and vibrant, radiating an innocent yet alluring charm.

They made you want to kiss her.

In the quiet room, the change in Sang Baili’s breathing was palpable.

She took a sip of water, trying to hide her reaction.

Then another.

She long-pressed the photo to save it.

After a long moment, she finally tore her gaze away from the image and slowly typed:

AAA Beautiful Boss: So why were you asking me if my fever had gone down in the middle of the night?