Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 42

Shen Shuangjing’s fingertip brushed against her lips, and she tasted…

The curtains were drawn, and the smart air conditioner hummed softly as it regulated the room temperature.

Shen Shuangjing rolled over in bed, the perfect, fluid lines of her lower face half-hidden beneath the cloud-like down comforter.

Her gaze fixed on Sang Baili’s sleeping face, studying it intently for a moment.

She rarely had the opportunity to observe Sang Baili up close like this. The woman’s features were strikingly beautiful, almost otherworldly in their perfection.

After a moment, she whispered tentatively, “Hey? Are you asleep?”

Seconds ticked by. Shen Shuangjing held her breath, waiting for a response.

“…”

The silk eye mask had been pushed up to Sang Baili’s forehead. Lying on the other side of the bed, her eyes half-open, she turned to look at Shen Shuangjing.

The bed was saturated with Shen Shuangjing’s scent, seeping into her lungs with each breath, stirring her thoughts and making it impossible to calm her mind or fall asleep.

“Not yet,” she replied.

Shen Shuangjing hesitated. “I can’t sleep either. Want to chat for a while?”

She had been desperately tired before getting into bed, longing to fall asleep immediately. But now that she was lying down, she found herself wide awake, unable to drift off no matter how hard she tried.

“What do you want to talk about?” Sang Baili’s voice was like the gentle clinking of ice in plum wine, languid and tender.

Shen Shuangjing pondered for a moment, her eyelashes casting trembling shadows on her cheeks. “Would you like to hear a bedtime story?”

During their days at the orphanage, the Old Dean’s bedtime stories had often lulled them to sleep.

Sang Baili moved her lips slightly. Bedtime stories are for children, she thought.

“What kind of bedtime story?” she asked.

Shen Shuangjing hesitated. “A bedtime fairy tale. Would you like to hear Sleeping Beauty or The Little Mermaid?” She added with a hint of pride, “I know them both by heart.”

Sang Baili replied with restrained dignity, “Why not tell both?” She wasn’t sleepy anyway.

“Alright then.” Shen Shuangjing cleared her throat. “I’ll start with Sleeping Beauty.”

“Long, long ago, in a faraway kingdom, the queen gave birth to a beautiful princess…”

It was a familiar tale, but Shen Shuangjing narrated it with her clear, melodious voice, recounting the princess’s growth with her unique tenderness.

Sang Baili found herself captivated. “And then?”

“At the end of the banquet, an uninvited fairy suddenly appeared and cursed the princess…”

Sang Baili listened quietly as Shen Shuangjing’s voice grew softer and trailed off.

Sang Baili: “?”

Shen Shuangjing’s eyes were already closed.

Sang Baili tried calling her, “Shen Xiaojing?”

Shen Shuangjing’s eyelids fluttered. “Mmm…?”

Watching her struggle against sleep, looking both amusing and trapped, Sang Baili asked, “Still telling the story? Are you going to sleep?”

Shen Shuangjing fought against drowsiness, her eyes hazy with sleep. “I want to keep telling it.”

A warmth spread through Sang Baili’s heart.

“Alright.”

Shen Shuangjing drowsily tried to remember where she had left off. “The kind Hundred Flowers Fairy told the king and queen that a kiss of true love could awaken the princess…”

Her consciousness gave way, sinking into darkness. Shen Shuangjing’s eyes closed completely, and the wisps of hair framing her forehead rose and fell with each breath.

She had lulled herself to sleep.

Seeing her sleeping so peacefully, Sang Baili didn’t wake her. Afraid she might have trouble breathing, she gently pulled the corner of the blanket down.

In her deep slumber, Shen Shuangjing’s features softened, her lips full and dewy, like ripe cherries tempting a kiss.

Sang Baili recalled Shen Shuangjing’s words before falling asleep.

If I kissed her now, would she wake up?

Resisting the urge to act impulsively, Sang Baili suppressed her impulse and closed her eyes.

Sang Baili, a light sleeper, woke up early.

She contacted the front desk to order two breakfasts, requesting room service delivery.

After working for a while, she noticed the time and headed to the bedroom.

Partially opening the curtains, she let the morning sunlight stream through the window, bathing the sleeping girl’s hair in a radiant, golden glow.

“Shen Xiaojing.”

“Shen Xiaojing, wake up.”

Shen Shuangjing, her eyes still closed, murmured, “Okay.”

Sang Baili walked over and noticed a piece of paper on the floor. Bending down to pick it up, she glanced at the handwriting. Her expression turned peculiar, but she calmly placed the paper back on the desk.

“I’ll wait for you over there.”

After a while, Shen Shuangjing struggled out of bed, washed up, and emerged from the bedroom. She found Sang Baili sitting at the opposite table, where a lavish breakfast spread awaited: tofu pudding, xiaolongbao, a mixed-grain platter, and two bowls of rice noodles.

Pressing a finger to her lips, Shen Shuangjing yawned and said, “Morning.”

Sang Baili poured her a glass of warm water. “Morning.”

Shen Shuangjing had little appetite. She sipped the warm water and slowly nibbled on a xiaolongbao.

Xiaolongbao had suffered a minor injury.

Normally, she could devour one in a single bite.

Rubbing her temples, Shen Shuangjing tried to recall the events of the previous night. Her memory abruptly cut off halfway through telling the story, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember anything beyond that point.

“Did I finish the story last night?” she asked uncertainly.

Sang Baili, who was peeling yam, shook her head. “No.”

Her gaze held no particular meaning, yet her words made Shen Shuangjing’s cheeks flush crimson. “You fell asleep while telling the story.”

The storyteller fell asleep while telling the story? Shen Shuangjing’s eyes darted guiltily around the room. “You weren’t asleep?” she asked, ashamed.

Sang Baili’s expression was ambiguous, somewhere between a smile and a smirk. “I was waiting for the ending.”

Shen Shuangjing coughed awkwardly, nearly choking on her xiaolongbao.

She set down her chopsticks, gulped down two mouthfuls of water, and looked at Sang Baili, shamelessly improvising a terrible ending.

“The ending is… the princess was awakened by true love’s kiss. Happy ending.”

Sang Baili swallowed a bite of yam. “Just as I suspected—a fairy tale for children.”

A few days later, Shen Shuangjing officially wrapped up her role as the Third Female Lead, receiving a large bouquet of fresh flowers from the crew.

The flowers were lush and vibrant, their fragrance rich and intoxicating. Shen Shuangjing cradled the bouquet in her arms, her smile pure and radiant.

The weather was perfect—a clear blue sky and warm sunshine. She thanked the crew members with a smile, praising the exquisite selection of flowers as a beautiful omen, as if her future would bloom as brilliantly as this bouquet.

A profusion of blossoms, like brocade; prosperity like oil poured on a raging fire.

The crew members gazed at the dazzling young woman, smiling back, “May you always walk a path strewn with flowers!”

Back home, Shen Shuangjing arranged the flowers in a long-necked vase adorned with lotus patterns.

She asked Sang Baili, “Can I post this on Weibo?”

Sang Baili, scooping clumps of cat litter from the litter box, replied, “Go ahead.”

Shen Shuangjing explained her concern in detail, “The photos will show the vase and the floor. Won’t people recognize that they were taken at your place?”

Sang Baili reassured her, “Don’t worry. I’ve never shared photos of my home online. Feel free to post them.”

With Sang Baili’s approval, Shen Shuangjing confidently uploaded two photos.

One photo showed her holding flowers and posing with the crew on set, while the other featured the flowers blooming in a vase.

She captioned the post:

“Received beautiful flowers and heartfelt blessings today! Thank you to everyone on set for your kindness. Wishing us all a brighter future!”

Having frequently shared her daily life and interacted with fans on Weibo, she was now widely regarded as “the most relatable celebrity” in China. Her genuine connection with fans had earned her a loyal following, as well as a substantial number of casual supporters.

Within minutes of posting, the Weibo post had garnered thousands of comments, and the number of comments and likes continued to surge at an alarming rate.

Most netizens congratulated her on wrapping up filming.

However, some comments veered off-topic:

“Main account, please share the link to the vase!”

“Same here! Can’t find it using image search on Taobao.”

“This looks like an auction item from an overseas auction, sold for $2,000.”

“Does anyone have proof it’s an auction item?”

When other users demanded evidence, the fan who claimed it was an auction item admitted the information was from a long time ago and they couldn’t recall the exact details. The discussion ultimately fizzled out without resolution.

Shen Shuangjing’s eyes widened as she read the comment.

Two thousand dollars?!

She remembered casually picking out a vase and asking Sang Baili if she could use it for flower arrangements.

Pressing her lips together, she crouched beside Sang Baili and asked, “A commenter said this lotus-patterned long-necked vase is worth two thousand dollars.”

Sang Baili, who had purchased countless auction items, paused to think. After a moment, she recalled buying the vase three years ago at a small private auction during a business trip abroad.

“It’s not two thousand dollars,” she said.

Shen Shuangjing sighed in relief and patted the vase. “I knew it!”

There was no way Sang Baili would have agreed to use a two-thousand-dollar vase for flower arrangements.

Sang Baili continued, “It was probably closer to three thousand dollars.”

Shen Shuangjing: “……”

She frantically checked the vase for any cracks she might have accidentally caused while patting it.

I can’t afford to replace this!

Fortunately, the auction item was sturdy and not some fragile antique; it didn’t shatter into pieces from a few pats.

Shen Shuangjing sighed, “Next time, I won’t know whether to admire the flowers or the artwork itself.”

Sang Baili tilted her head, wrinkling her nose as she tied up the smelly trash bag. “Artwork?”

Shen Shuangjing stated succinctly, “It’s this vase.”

Anything sold for such a high price must be a work of art.

“Then you can admire it longer next time,” Sang Baili said, picking up the trash bag. She sniffed the hand that had been holding the shovel and sighed mournfully, “My hand smells awful now.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm!”

“Let me smell?”

Shen Shuangjing sniffed and shook her head. “Sister, should we throw out the trash first? The smell from the bag is too strong; I can’t tell.”

Sang Baili: “……”

Shen Shuangjing blinked innocently. The overwhelming stench in the room was interfering with her sense of smell. She couldn’t bring herself to lie and say her sister’s hand smelled nice.

Even if she did, Sang Baili wouldn’t believe her.

Sang Baili huffed softly. “Wait here.”

“Okay,” Shen Shuangjing replied, scooping up Wuyun and darting back to her room.

You should play outside less from now on. You wouldn’t want to break another vase and force Mom to work for the Sang Family for the rest of her life, would you?

The wait stretched on longer than Shen Shuangjing expected. Just when she thought Sang Baili wasn’t coming back, there was a knock at the door.

“Did you throw out the trash?”

Shen Shuangjing opened the door, and the fragrance of tuberose wafted toward her.

She paused, surprised.

Sang Baili had not only taken out the trash but had also washed her hands.

But that wasn’t all.

Wearing a low-cut apricot-colored nightgown, Sang Baili revealed her snow-white skin, long legs, and slender figure—her proportions were captivatingly perfect. Her delicate collarbones were exposed, drawing attention, every inch of her skin radiating pampered luxury.

Sang Baili held her fingertips before Shen Shuangjing’s eyes, her breath warm like melted perfume. “And now?”

“Sister washed her hands,” Shen Shuangjing replied. “They smell nice.”

Sang Baili wasn’t satisfied with this answer. “What kind of scent?”

Without hesitation, Shen Shuangjing said, “Tuberose.”

Sang Baili smiled, a sly, triumphant glint in her eyes. “Wrong. Smell again, more carefully.”

Her full, crimson lips seemed to drip with vitality.

“Wrong?”

Convinced her sense of smell hadn’t failed her, Shen Shuangjing cupped Sang Baili’s slender, boneless wrist in her right hand and leaned closer to sniff her fingertips.

The rounded fingertips twitched reflexively, gliding across Shen Shuangjing’s lips. She tasted an icy coolness, like melting icicles.