Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 54

Her cheeks flushed crimson, momentarily outshining the dawn’s glow outside the window…

Since they hadn’t gone to the mall today, Shen Shuangjing had no reason to offer a reward, nor had she posed any riddles, eliminating the possibility of punishment for wrong answers. Sang Baili kneaded her aching calves, secretly sighing in relief.

The beanbag chair sank slightly under Shen Shuangjing’s weight as she nestled into it, casually bending one leg. Her slender, pale ankle peeked out from beneath her robe, the curve of her calf forming a taut, elegant line. Her languid posture resembled a sunflower basking in the morning light.

She placed her copy of Business Theory on the table. A gentle breeze rustled the pages, creating a soft, rustling sound.

“But you must fulfill your duties as the Canary,” she said.

Sang Baili: “…What?”

Noticing her complete lack of recollection, Shen Shuangjing reminded her, “Remember when you thought several times a day was too much? You begged me for ages, and we compromised on once a day.”

Sang Baili: “…I’m begging you for once a week.”

Her current stamina was as depleted as the last grains of sand in an hourglass.

Showing no mercy for the beauty before her, Shen Shuangjing lifted Sang Baili’s chin with her jade-like fingers, her nails polished and immaculate. Her delicate features were as exquisite as a painting, and her voice carried a playful lilt. “Have you forgotten where you’re supposed to beg me?”

Sang Baili: “It’s daytime now.”

Shen Shuangjing remained unfazed. “Daytime is your favorite, isn’t it?”

Each time, she shed more tears than at night.

Sang Baili was speechless.

The original script was quite tame, though it followed the “forced possession” trope. The focus was on the domineering CEO’s psychological torment of his “canary,” rather than physical abuse. In Shen Shuangjing’s memories, however, the dynamic had been reversed.

Gradually, she lost herself in the moment, her eyes shimmering with a dazzling, bewitching beauty as she felt the alternating sensations of heat and cold coursing through her body.

“Sister, I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

The word “sister” slipped out, sending a sharp, piercing pain through Shen Shuangjing’s brain.

She had never used such an intimate term for her “canary,” yet the word felt natural on her tongue, as if she had spoken it a thousand times before.

When was that?

Shen Shuangjing struggled to distinguish between real memories and illusions. The harder she tried to recall, the more her head throbbed.

“Are you alright?”

Sang Baili’s breath came in ragged gasps, her radiant expression tinged with worry as she gently massaged Shen Shuangjing’s furrowed brow with her fingertips.

“I’m fine,” Shen Shuangjing replied, her gaze drawn to the soft, crimson lips before her. She guided Sang Baili into a different position, her elbow knocking over the quilted handbag on the table.

The bag tumbled to the floor with a muffled thud, spilling its contents—lipsticks, a mirror, and miscellaneous items—across the floor.

Shen Shuangjing’s palm pressed firmly against the woman’s flushed cheek, her fingers long and graceful, the pads marked with faint teeth marks. Delicate veins pulsed beneath the pale skin on the back of her hand, radiating an unspoken sensuality.

“I’ll clean it up,” she murmured.

The light in the living room gradually dimmed, tinged with the vibrant hues of twilight.

True to her word, Shen Shuangjing carried the exhausted Canary to the bedroom. Returning to the living room, she began tidying up the mess scattered across the floor.

As she picked up a contract to put back in her bag, she noticed the title on the cover: Script (The Domineering President Falls in Love with Me).

Whose is this?

Puzzled, Shen Shuangjing opened the script. With each page she turned, a chill crept up her spine, disbelief growing.

Her first encounter with Sang Baili, their daily interactions, and even the phrases she often blurted out were identical to the script’s depiction of the Domineering President’s lines—not a single word was different.

Was her life predetermined?

If the script was real, was her existence genuine or merely a fabrication?

The script fell to the floor. Shen Shuangjing clutched her head and crouched down, her skull throbbing. Clear yet fragmented memories surfaced, flashing through her mind like scenes from a film.

She remembered everything.

Including the moment of impact during the car crash, the seatbelt digging into her chest.

The memories that followed hadn’t faded with her awakening. She recalled every Domineering President cliché she had uttered, her insistence on watching morning business news with Americano to consolidate her commercial empire, and her demands that Sang Baili fulfill her Canary duties daily.

Everywhere was her fault, yet everywhere was not her fault.

Shen Shuangjing’s breath came in ragged gasps, her cheeks momentarily brighter than the dawn sky visible through the window. Trembling, she unlocked her phone and rebooked the earliest flight to the neighboring city.

Then she texted Guo Yu:

Big Whale Eats Little Whale: Director, I’ll be at the roadshow venue early to meet you all!

She quickly packed her belongings into a suitcase, ready to leave. But she paused, turned back, and scribbled a note on a sticky note, which she stuck to Sang Baili’s bedside table:

I’m going out for work! Don’t worry, I’ll be back when I’m done!

The unspoken message was clear: I’ll be back after work, so don’t come looking for me!

She needed some peace and quiet!

Arriving in the neighboring city, Shen Shuangjing inhaled the fresh, unfamiliar air, and her gloomy mood instantly lifted, banishing all her troubles.

Yeah, right.

She could never look at the word “Canary” or the floor-to-ceiling windows in the villa again without cringing.

That cheesy, melodramatic script had done her no favors.

The roadshow in the neighboring city had two sessions. Shen Shuangjing was scheduled to attend the second one. After meeting Director Guo, he enthusiastically suggested that since she was already there, she might as well participate in both sessions, with the extra session’s pay matching the standard rate for the second one.

Hearing there was money to be made, Shen Shuangjing immediately agreed. Anything was better than lying bored in her hotel bed.

The roadshow venue was ablaze with dazzling lights, and the theater was packed to capacity.

A massive screen displayed the film’s suspenseful poster: a dark, shadowy image where all the characters except the female lead had their faces obscured, revealing only pairs of eyes brimming with untold stories. The female lead stood bathed in light from head to toe, staring into the void with unwavering tenderness and resolve.

In stark contrast to the poster’s oppressive atmosphere, the creative team lined up on the stage before the screen, sharing behind-the-scenes anecdotes with the audience. The room buzzed with laughter and lively chatter.

After the relaxed pre-screening interviews concluded, it was time for the screening to begin.

The lights dimmed, and Shen Shuangjing and the rest of the team settled into their seats in the viewing area to watch the film.

In the movie, Jiang Mei played the female lead, a police officer sent undercover to investigate a bar suspected of being a drug trafficking hub. Shen Shuangjing portrayed the Third Female Lead, a bar worker struggling to make ends meet. Though she accidentally discovered the bar’s secrets, she pretended ignorance to survive. It wasn’t until the protagonist’s undercover identity was exposed later in the film that the Third Female Lead, risking her own life, threw herself in front of her friend to protect her from danger.

The electrocardiogram flatlined into a cold, straight line. The doctor announced the Third Female Lead’s death. From the screen came the Main Female Lead’s anguished cries, a sound so peculiar that Shen Shuangjing listened closely, only to realize it was interwoven with the rising and falling sobs of the audience.

In the darkness, the screen’s cold light illuminated tear-streaked faces.

Some always walk ahead, leading the way to the light, while others trade their eternal slumber in darkness for the dawn’s first light.

In the film, the Second Female Lead couldn’t understand why the police were so fixated on a dead woman. To others, the Third Female Lead had no redeeming qualities, toiling in the lowest rungs of society, merely a speck of dust in the vast city.

So insignificant as to be unremarkable.

The Main Female Lead told her, “She saved not just me, but countless families shattered by drugs. The light within me isn’t solely my own; it carries a part of her. In the past, she resorted to any means to survive. If I were to forget her, she would truly vanish from this world. But in my heart, she transcends the boundaries of life and death. Though I still can’t define my feelings for her, I know this emotion transcends life and death, and will accompany me until the end of my days.”

As the lights gradually came up after the film ended, Shen Shuangjing inadvertently noticed the screenwriter beside her sobbing uncontrollably. Without a word, she handed the other woman a few tissues.

After the screening, the main actors engaged with the audience, discussing their viewing experience.

The room was warm, and Shen Shuangjing wore a pale yellow turtleneck sweater. The light fell across her shoulders and sharply defined profile, giving her a healthier complexion than she had appeared to have in the film. Her clear, bright eyes and radiant aura made her seem like a luminous star.

Standing on the stage, she saw many glowing signs bearing her name, indicating the presence of numerous fans in the audience.

The host handed the microphone to a teary-eyed audience member. After sharing their thoughts on the film, the audience member choked out, “From now on, Shen Shuangjing isn’t just the White Moonlight in the protagonist’s life—she’s my White Moonlight too.”

A wave of agreement rippled through the audience. The Third Female Lead, a role that had garnered significant attention even before filming began, had been brought to life by Shen Shuangjing in a way that exceeded all expectations. She not only perfectly captured the character’s essence from the page but also breathed flesh and bl00d into her soul, transforming her into an indelible, radiant White Moonlight in the hearts of the audience.

After the roadshow, audience members flooded various platforms with rave reviews, sparking widespread discussion. Even a notoriously harsh and sharp-tongued film critic published an unprecedented ten-thousand-word review on his public account, praising the adaptation as not merely faithful to the original novel but surpassing it. He lauded the director’s dynamic storytelling and the actors’ breathtakingly immersive performances.

With unanimous acclaim spreading like wildfire, the yet-to-be-released film had audiences salivating with anticipation. Eager book fans and the stars’ fanbases were growing increasingly impatient.

When will tickets finally go on sale?!

Meanwhile, Shen Shuangjing’s fan groups and trending topics were buzzing with activity, discussions updating every minute.

The movie is worth the hype! Can’t wait for the official release. I’m going for a second viewing to support Shuangjing!

I know you’re all anxious, but hold your horses—I’ve already seen it.

After the release, we need to control the narrative. I have a feeling some ship fans are going to try to step all over us.

I used to be just a looks fan of Shen Shuangjing. After watching the movie, I went home and chatted with my friend, who’s also a Xiao Jing fangirl. But she said she wanted to cut ties with me! I thought she’d found out I secretly went to the roadshow, but it turned out she was mad because I’d become a Shen Shuangjing acting fan. How did this happen? I secretly became a dual fan—looks and acting! Family, tell me who’s in the wrong here. Can’t looks fans and acting fans get along these days? Whose fault is it?