Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 53

Shen Shuangjing had tasted what she had tasted before…

Her slender neck drooped, like a flower petal weighed down by morning dew.

Sang Baili turned to look at the person behind her. Her long, seaweed-like curls cascaded down her back, the ends swaying gently as she breathed, her crimson lips parted slightly.

Those almond-shaped eyes, capable of stealing her very soul, captured all her attention.

She seemed to melt into the night.

Shen Shuangjing’s trouser legs pooled around her jade-like ankles, the silky fabric sliding lower with each movement, revealing the exquisite, alluring lines of her shoulders and neck.

Her thin lips pressed tightly against Sang Baili’s smooth, delicate back, her voice low and unsatisfied as she demanded, “Why are the game cards missing from the drawer?”

Sang Baili replied, “There’s no such thing.”

Shen Shuangjing’s gaze grew viscous, like a tightening net. Her lips moved silently as she punished Sang Baili with a warm breath against her back.

Liar.

Because Sang Baili had been forcibly taken, she had always been resistant from the start. To help them physically bond and warm up, Shen Shuangjing had sought out playful friends and obtained a set of “fun games” cards.

Seeing Sang Baili now half-reclined in her arms, she knew the cards had been effective.

Now that the cards were missing, and since she hadn’t moved them, it could only be the mischievous Canary who had hidden them. It certainly couldn’t have been Wuyun who ate them.

The little kitten wouldn’t take the blame.

Sang Baili shivered, sensing a growing, indecipherable danger in the gaze behind her.

Had her words triggered some hidden switch again?

Shen Shuangjing’s thumb gently turned Sang Baili’s chin, forcing her face and gaze to meet the floor-to-ceiling window.

Too unbearable.

Sang Baili lacked the strength to resist. Her eyelids flushed pink as she murmured, “Enough.”

She had taken these days off work, not to spend them climbing mountains every day.

Shen Shuangjing hummed casually, accustomed to the Canary’s sudden bursts of aloofness at such moments.

Her movements and kisses continued unabated.

The next morning, Shen Shuangjing sat cross-legged on the bed, her mid-length black hair disheveled around her shoulders. The collar of her pajamas was slightly open, revealing faint red marks on her collarbone.

Though she had enjoyed herself thoroughly the previous night, she still found the effects of the “Naughty Fun” game cards more effective when dealing with her disobedient Canary. The tricks she could think of simply couldn’t match the variety and stimulation offered by the cards.

So what if the old set was lost? With her wealth, she could buy a hundred more sets—fifty to play with and fifty to throw away.

Let Sang Baili throw them away to her heart’s content.

The CEO’s execution was faster than lightning. Shen Shuangjing placed an order for a hundred sets on Taobao, determined to see how Sang Baili would try to secretly discard them this time.

Beside her, Sang Baili slept soundly, her long, dark lashes framing her porcelain-white cheek. Her cascading curls draped across her smooth, pale arm, partially obscuring her face.

She looked like a beauty from an oil painting, even her breathing carrying a rhythmic grace.

Shen Shuangjing unconsciously softened her breathing, her hand reaching out tentatively to touch Sang Baili’s silk-like hair. When she didn’t stir, Shuangjing relaxed and boldly rubbed her ear with her fingertip, amusing herself for a while.

Eventually, Sang Baili, still asleep, frowned in annoyance, her butterfly-wing lashes fluttering as she turned over and continued sleeping.

Her long, slender legs emerged from the thin blanket, nearly blending into the white sheets beneath her.

“Such an incompetent canary,” Shuangjing murmured.

Sleeping later than her master.

Instead of waiting for Sang Baili to wake up, Shen Shuangjing got out of bed, ground herself a cup of Americano, and settled down to watch the morning news.

By the time the news was halfway through, Shuangjing’s coffee cup was already empty.

Sang Baili emerged from the bedroom, her expression a mix of panic and helplessness. “I need to go to the hospital.”

On the hospital bed, Mother Sang lay against the pale sheets, her face gaunt and aged, her cheeks sunken like withered lotus petals. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes were particularly prominent in the light.

Hearing the door creak open, she opened her eyes, their depths still clouded with lingering fatigue.

“Baili, you’ve come to see me.”

Sang Baili nodded, glancing at the person behind her. “Have a seat.”

“And who is this?” Mother Sang’s gaze shifted past Sang Baili, settling on the figure behind her.

Shen Shuangjing sat down in the chair behind Sang Baili. She tugged down her white down jacket, revealing a face so beautiful it could be described as exquisite. But when she met Mother Sang’s eyes, her expression was wary, even faintly hostile.

The memory of the crimson palm print on Sang Baili’s cheek still tightened her chest with anger. She remembered Mother Sang as volatile and quick-tempered. Determined to support Sang Baili, she had insisted on accompanying her to the hospital, ready to stand between them and shield her from any further humiliation.

Yet the woman on the hospital bed was far weaker than she had anticipated. Her pale, frail hands were crisscrossed with purplish veins, and she looked too frail to even get out of bed.

Sang Baili showed no inclination to introduce herself. Long estranged from her mother, they rarely communicated, and she hadn’t even told her about the arranged marriage.

Mother Sang sighed deeply, her voice thick with regret. “Are you still angry about that slap? I was too impulsive that day. I deeply regret it. No matter how angry I was, I shouldn’t have laid a hand on you…”

“You don’t need to apologize anymore. I’m not angry anymore,” Sang Baili interrupted calmly. She had heard this apology countless times before.

Though she had felt humiliated and furious at the time, so much time had passed that the sting of the slap had long faded.

“Perhaps it was karma for slapping you—I’ve been punished,” Mother Sang said, her eyes reddening slightly. “You’re the only daughter I have left now.”

She had argued with her lover’s son, who, in a fit of anger, pushed her down the stairs. When she regained consciousness in the hospital, the doctor informed her that she had miscarried and would never be able to conceive again.

During her prolonged hospitalization, the lover who had once vowed eternal devotion never once visited. He even blocked her number when she tried to call, abandoning her completely.

For a moment, Sang Baili couldn’t think of anyone else to contact.

Her emotions were tangled. After a long pause, she said, “Rest well. I’ll arrange a good nursing team for you. I’ll cover all the hospital expenses.”

It was getting late. She stood up, ready to call Shen Shuangjing to leave, but Mother Sang stopped her.

Mother Sang’s voice was soft, barely concealing a flicker of hope. “Knowing you were coming, I asked someone to buy your favorite butter cookies from when you were little. They’re on the table—take them with you.”

Sang Baili didn’t turn around. The lamplight stretched her shadow long across the room as her voice echoed in the empty space. “Are you sure you remember correctly? I never liked those cookies.”

“No, I’m certain,” Mother Sang insisted. “You used to eat a whole pack of them every day after elementary school.”

“You said it yourself—that was elementary school. I stopped liking them ages ago.” A glance caught the disappointment in Mother Sang’s eyes, piercing her heart with a dull, lingering ache.

Mother Sang had missed over twenty years of her daughter’s life, and Sang Baili struggled to reconcile the memory of her always-glamorous mother with the frail, aged woman before her.

People always yearn for what they once had only after losing it.

But time cannot be reversed; once something is lost, it can never be fully recovered.

“I’ll be going now,” she said, her fingers resting on the cool metal doorknob. “This isn’t karma, but the harm they inflicted on you. If you decide to sue that father and son, contact me. I’ll help you find the most qualified lawyers.”

“I… I need that. Thank you,” the woman replied, her voice firm after witnessing the coldness and warmth of human nature in just a few days.

“Don’t worry, someone will contact you.”

She stepped out of the room ahead of Shen Shuangjing, who paused in the ward, silent for a moment, before turning to Mother Sang and saying, “I’ll take good care of her.”

Outside the hospital, the sun shone brightly, but a cold wind carried an unyielding chill.

Shen Shuangjing glanced at the silent Canary, her hands tucked into her pockets. “You’re more indecisive than I thought.”

Sang Baili lifted her lashes, sunlight glinting in her alluring eyes. “Really?”

“Given her past treatment of you,” Shen Shuangjing replied, “I assumed you’d sever all ties with her.”

“I thought I would sever ties with her decisively,” Sang Baili murmured with a sigh.

Despite the warmth of her childhood memories, she couldn’t bring herself to hate her mother completely. Yet the betrayal had left an insurmountable barrier in her heart, a wound that refused to heal.

Shen Shuangjing squeezed Sang Baili’s hand, trying to comfort her. “If you’re feeling down, I’ll take you shopping. We can buy everything in Jing City.”

“No need,” Sang Baili replied, shaking her head. Her gaze drifted to the pale gray sky, her voice devoid of emotion. “In the end, she loved the wrong person.”

She recounted the story of Mother Sang’s nearly two-decade entanglement with her lover, a relationship that ultimately led nowhere. It was only her recent hospitalization that finally shattered Mother Sang’s illusions.

As Shen Shuangjing listened, her fingers tightened around the cuff of her sweater. She couldn’t help but whisper, “Some love is truly terrifying.”

“Yes,” Sang Baili agreed. “Love is a raging fire.”

It could burn a person to ashes, leaving nothing behind. Yet countless souls, fully aware of the danger, willingly choose to fly too close to the flame.

She couldn’t understand it.

Passing by Fuxinxiang, Shen Shuangjing bought a box of Chestnut Crisps.

“Sweets always lift the spirits,” she said. “Eight crisps—we can share them evenly.”

Sang Baili wasn’t particularly fond of Chestnut Crisps, but Shen Shuangjing had bought them specifically to cheer her up, and her mood brightened considerably.

“Okay,” she said.

The four Chestnut Crisps vanished in an instant. Shen Shuangjing cleared her throat lightly. “These are actually quite good. Let’s buy another batch.”

Sang Baili had a sudden realization. “If you’re still hungry, you can have mine.”

“I’ll just have one,” Shen Shuangjing replied.

Five minutes later.

Shen Shuangjing licked her lips. “This is quite an appetizer.”

Sang Baili took another Chestnut Crisp from the bag and handed it to her. After watching her finish it, she asked, “Want another?”

An invisible tail behind Shen Shuangjing wagged. “Yes, please.”

Five minutes later, only one Chestnut Crisp remained in the bag.

Sang Baili urged Shen Shuangjing to eat it.

“How could I possibly?” Shen Shuangjing protested.

Snatching food from her Canary’s mouth would make her the laughingstock of the CEO world.

Sang Baili tossed the bag into the nearby trash can, pinching the last Chestnut Crisp between her fingers. She held it to Shen Shuangjing’s lips, who instinctively took a bite. “Actually, I’m a little… burp… full.”

“You don’t want any more?”

Shen Shuangjing shook her head. “I can’t eat another bite.”

Sang Baili stared at the Chestnut Crisp in her hand for a moment. Throwing it away felt wasteful, but holding onto it seemed odd. On a whim, she suddenly took a bite from the crescent-shaped gap.

Shen Shuangjing’s almond-shaped eyes widened slightly, her bl00d rushing with a rising warmth. “I already ate from that,” she reminded her.

Sang Baili had never eaten food that Shen Shuangjing had bitten before.

She finished the Chestnut Crisp in a few bites, pursed her lips, and licked a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth. “It’s fine,” she said slowly.

After all, Shen Shuangjing had drunk coffee that Sang Baili had tasted before.