Mistakenly Married a Substitute Wife, Falling in Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 8

Shen Shuangjing: “Thank you, President Sang, for giving me this opportunity to shine. My little house has never looked so radiant.”

Sang Baili glanced around. “Your house?”

“My little house,” Shen Shuangjing clarified, gesturing to her chest. “My heart.”

Sang Baili smiled, as if she could see a string of exclamation marks across Shen Shuangjing’s face. “It’s clear you’re thrilled about landing the third female lead.”

Shen Shuangjing’s almond-shaped eyes curved into crescent moons.

She blinked, her lips curling upward. “This is a job I earned through my own efforts. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, so of course I’m happy.”

Though a former teacher had once told her she couldn’t hide her feelings, she was proud of herself and saw no reason to conceal her joy. Better to celebrate openly.

Her clear, bright eyes sparkled with excitement. Shen Shuangjing made no attempt to suppress her emotions. “The compensation is great, and all the weight I lost feels worth it. It’s like all my hard work has finally paid off. I’m so happy I want to hug everyone and celebrate!”

She wasn’t the only one feeling this way.

With a slight lift of her chin, she gestured toward the assistant director and casting director, who were currently embracing warmly. “The assistant director and casting director are action-oriented.”

Sang Baili glanced over. “They’re a couple.”

Shen Shuangjing’s wide, watery eyes widened further. “They’ve gone public?”

“Last month.”

“Oh.”

Perfectly reasonable and legitimate.

But hugs aren’t exclusive to lovers, are they?

Sang Baili assumed Shen Shuangjing wanted to hug her. “Do you want a hug now?”

Shen Shuangjing glanced back. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate?”

Sang Baili teased, “It might end up as a headline in some tabloid: ‘Sang Group President Caught Kissing Mysterious Woman in Public.'”

Shen Shuangjing raised an eyebrow, reminding her, “But there are no tabloids here.”

“True,” Sang Baili conceded.

“It’s getting quite chilly in the autumn,” Shen Shuangjing remarked.

“I’ve turned on the air conditioning,” Sang Baili replied.

Shen Shuangjing narrowed her eyes.

Did she get the hint?

Maybe I should go find Sister Manli. I don’t want to miss out on such a perfect celebratory moment.

Shen Shuangjing shifted her weight, ready to turn away. “I’ve been inside for so long. Sister Manli must be getting worried. I haven’t even told her I got the third female lead role yet. Maybe I should—”

Sang Baili pulled Shen Shuangjing into a quick hug, then immediately released her. The delicate fragrance of freesia mixed with citrus enveloped Shen Shuangjing like a gentle spring breeze.

“Go on. It’s getting late.”

Shen Shuangjing didn’t move, her heart blooming with joy. A smile played on her lips, and the mischievous glint in her eyes sparkled like a pool of starlight. “President Sang, why did you suddenly hug me?”

Sang Baili replied calmly, “Because there are no tabloids here, and the air conditioning isn’t warm enough.”

“That makes perfect sense.”

Shen Shuangjing feigned a profound demeanor, the small red mole on the tip of her nose standing out playfully against her porcelain-white skin. “President Sang,” she said.

Sang Baili met her dark, bright eyes, a faint smile curving her cherry-red lips. “What is it this time, Miss Shen?” she asked patiently.

“You’ve done what I wanted to do,” Shen Shuangjing replied. “I want to learn from you.”

It was a declaration of intent.

In the next moment, she returned Sang Baili’s embrace, feeling a warmth that only intensified her joy. Her smile blazed. “Thank you for your encouragement, President Sang. I’ll work hard to play the third female lead well.”

Sang Baili felt Shen Shuangjing’s warmth and was subtly moved, a soft tenderness unconsciously creeping into her eyes.

Standing nearby, the assistant director nudged the casting director and whispered to his partner, “Don’t you think Shen Shuangjing and President Sang make a pretty good match? In terms of looks and aura, I mean.”

One exuded alluring charm, the other pure, sunny vitality. More importantly, they were both strikingly beautiful, making it easy to want to play matchmaker and pair them up.

The only question was Shen Shuangjing’s character. Her current lack of fame didn’t matter—she was young and had potential.

His partner replied calmly, “Obsessing over every pairing will only get you hurt. President Sang is married.”

“Thanks, darling,” the assistant director said. “Forbidden love is even more exciting.”

Like attracts like.

“Seriously, don’t even say that,” his partner said. “It’s weirdly compelling.”

They exchanged a knowing glance, reaching a silent agreement.

Shen Shuangjing told Meng Manli about signing the contract. Meng Manli showed no surprise as she calmly outlined her plans for Shen Shuangjing’s future.

“One more thing,” Meng Manli said. “Remember to create a Weibo account and post daily updates. I’ll have the company account follow you.”

Shen Shuangjing jotted it down in her notes, nodding repeatedly, feeling like she was forgetting something.

Stepping out of the building, the sunlight was perfect—warm yet crisp. Low-hanging white clouds drifted across the azure sky in distinct layers.

Shen Shuangjing put away her phone. “I’ve got it all noted down. Thank you for your guidance, Manager Meng.”

Meng Manli raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “It’s my duty. From now on, I’ll be relying on Best Actress Shen to bring me the meat and broth.”

They exchanged smiles, their shadows stretching long in the sunlight, their eyes both burning with anticipation for the unknown future.

At that moment, no one could have imagined that these two obscure figures would soon unleash a storm in the entertainment industry.

Nearby, a Rolls-Royce Phantom parked in the shade exuded ostentatious luxury. Its sleek lines and imposing presence radiated a sense of danger, like a predator lurking in the shadows, poised to strike.

The car window was half-lowered, revealing a woman’s flamboyant and seductive face.

Shen Shuangjing suddenly remembered she had forgotten to mention something important during the drive.

Sang Baili’s dark blue fox-like eyes locked onto her. “Get in,” she said.

As Shen Shuangjing was about to step forward, she turned back to Meng Manli’s petrified figure and cleared her throat. “I’ll explain everything on WeChat later.”

The sheer volume of information overwhelmed Meng Manli’s mind, her swirling thoughts condensing into a single warning: “You’d better explain clearly.”

She didn’t want to endure another shock.

Inside the hermetically sealed car, Sang Baili sat with a laptop open before her, her gaze lowered as she handled business matters.

The consequence of taking time to oversee a multi-billion-dollar investment project was a backlog of urgent work that couldn’t be delayed.

Shen Shuangjing slid open her phone and texted her manager.

Big Whale Eats Little Whale: Sister Manli, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.

Sister Manli: You’re not President Sang’s secret illegitimate daughter, are you? No wonder you don’t look like your parents or brother. It’s not a genetic issue after all.

Shen Shuangjing: “……”

Sang Baili couldn’t possibly have a daughter as old as her.

<b>Big Whale Eats Little Whale:</b> Is there any other possibility?

<b>Sister Manli:</b> Are you and President Sang biological sisters with different fathers?

It was a nonsensical question, but Meng Manli had an even more absurd thought in her mind. However, trusting Shen Shuangjing’s character, she restrained herself from letting her imagination run wild.

Big Whale Eats Little Whale: Marriage certificate.jpg. Just filing it for the record: wife-wife relationship.

Sister Manli: You scared me to death! I thought you two were having some kind of shady deal.

But a wife-wife relationship… which wife-wife relationship?

Sister Manli: Message withdrawn

Sister Manli:???

The bombshell news left Meng Manli dizzy and disoriented. She didn’t send another message for a long time.

Shen Shuangjing put away her phone. Having not had any water since the audition, her throat felt dry, and she coughed twice. She met Sang Baili’s gaze.

Shen Shuangjing glanced at Sang Baili’s notebook. “Are you finished with work?”

Sang Baili nodded. “Yes, there’s nothing too urgent left.”

Shen Shuangjing’s lips curved slightly. “Thank you for picking me up, President Sang.”

Sang Baili handed her a bottle of water, subtly disliking Shen Shuangjing’s formal address. “When it’s just the two of us, you don’t need to call me President Sang.”

Shen Shuangjing took the bottle. Her thinness made the veins on the back of her hand stand out as she twisted open the cap.

She swallowed two mouthfuls of water, feeling herself recover.

She hadn’t meant to call her “President Sang.” After hearing everyone else use the title all afternoon, she’d gotten used to it.

Shen Shuangjing cupped the bottle of mineral water in her palm, her long hair falling across her cheek. In the shifting light and shadow, a smile flickered across her face as she said, “I’ll follow your lead. What name do you prefer?”

Sang Baili replied, “Think of something yourself, but you can’t call me ‘Boss’ or ‘President Sang.'”

Shen Shuangjing understood. Using those titles out of habit would give her away. “Boss” was a term she reserved for her thoughts, while she used more intimate names when speaking to close friends or when acting affectionate in front of her grandmother.

“How long do I have to decide?” Shen Shuangjing asked.

“Ten.”

Ten days was quite a while. Naming things wasn’t her strong suit. She could come up with a name each day, cross out the five mediocre ones, and then ask Sang Baili which she liked best.

“Five seconds left,” Sang Baili warned.

“Huh?”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

Sang Baili: “One.”

Sang Baili: “Have you decided?”

Not yet.

After two seconds, Shen Shuangjing racked her brains and blurted out, “Jiejie, Baibai, Lili, Sangsang, Baili, Xiaosang, Xiaobai, Xiaoli.”

It sounded like she was just throwing names out there, but Sang Baili rarely made requests, and Shen Shuangjing swore she had genuinely put thought into it.

Sang Baili paused for two seconds, a subtle silence hanging in the air. “Special Assistant Sheng’s dog is named Xiaobai.”

Shen Shuangjing also fell silent for two seconds. “Special Assistant Sheng and I seem to have a lot in common.”

Suddenly, she felt a strange sense of kinship with Special Assistant Sheng, whom she had never met.

His naming sense is as vivid as mine.

But Sang Baili’s eyes still seemed as cold as ice and snow.

Something’s off.

She glanced again.

She hadn’t been mistaken. They were indeed as cold as ice and snow.

However, Shen Shuangjing couldn’t be entirely blamed.

It was perfectly normal for someone who had never been in a relationship to struggle when suddenly tasked with coming up with intimate nicknames for their partner.

Besides, if “Xiaobai” weren’t such a common pet name, it would have been far more intimate than addressing someone by their full name.

Human potential knows no bounds in times of crisis. Nicknames specifically for her lover began flashing through Shen Shuangjing’s previously blank mind like shooting stars. She rubbed her itchy nose and said:

“If you’re not satisfied, I have plenty more sugary-sweet nicknames for you to choose from, Jiejie. Wife, darling, honey, sweetheart—and if they’re not sweet enough, you don’t have to pay!”

That’s more than satisfactory.