Rapid Collapse (GL) - Chapter 23

When Han Ning saw Shen Xi’s name, tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She answered the call, sobbing, “I have no home anymore. I’m the only one left here. They’re all gone. It’s just me…”

Shen Xi was excited when the call connected, but Han Ning’s crying immediately startled her.

Han Ning’s sobs were heart-wrenching, more sorrowful than any crying scene Shen Xi had seen in her dramas. Shen Xi felt the sadness in her heart, her eyes burning with emotion.

She gently comforted her, “Cry if you need to. When you’re tired, come back. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“Mm…” Han Ning wiped her tears with Lightning’s paw. The cat let out a dissatisfied meow and licked its fur. Just as Han Ning was about to hang up, she heard Shen Xi call her name. She put the phone back to her ear and asked, “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, Han Ning…” Shen Xi said softly, gripping the phone tightly, waiting for her response.

One second, two seconds, three seconds passed—there was only silence on the other end.

In reality, Han Ning was pressing her lips together, holding back a smile. Her eyes sparkled with joy. Pretending to be annoyed, she let out a small huff and hung up the call.

The weight in Han Ning’s heart lifted. Feeling much better, she got into her car, placed the cat on the soft cushion of the passenger seat, turned around, and drove away from Anhua, heading to Lingchao.

Hearing Han Ning’s little huff over the phone, Shen Xi lowered her head and chuckled. She put the phone back in place. Since filming hadn’t wrapped up yet and the writers were still around, she wanted to learn as much as she could.

Editor Chen noticed her enthusiasm and was pleased. Adjusting her glasses, she said, “Even though you didn’t major in this, your hard work and willingness to learn remind me of my own passion when I first started.”

Shen Xi smiled. “You flatter me, Editor Chen. Anything worth doing requires effort. I’m just starting out, and I’m lucky to have you and the other seniors guiding me so I don’t make too many mistakes.”

“No need to be so humble,” Editor Chen chuckled. As if remembering something, she pulled up a document on her phone and handed it to Shen Xi. It was the outline of a new script.

The title read—Thorny Rose.

“The script for Nan Yan is almost finalized. The filming team can take it from here. What you’re looking at now is a new project still in development. It’s a military-themed drama about two female soldiers—one follows the rules strictly, the other is wild and unconventional. Through various challenges, they grow, find their purpose, overcome obstacles, and survive against the odds to become the pride of female soldiers.”

Editor Chen took a sip of water and looked at Shen Xi, who returned her gaze with bright eyes. “Are you giving me a chance to participate in the writing?”

Editor Chen smirked. “Why else would I show it to you?”

Shen Xi hesitated, feeling a bit unsure. “I… I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Why not? You’re talented, even as a writer. Believe in yourself! But as a newcomer, you still have a lot of room to grow. Keep going, take your time.” Editor Chen patted her shoulder encouragingly.

After she left, Shen Xi felt a little happy inside. She knew Editor Chen had a great reputation in the industry—every one of her works was a masterpiece.

At first, Shen Xi felt immense pressure working with them as the original author of an online novel.

In any field, there is always a hierarchy. When Shen Xi first published her novel, web novel writers were at the bottom of the industry. She never joined the Writers’ Association because she once overheard an industry veteran dismiss web novelists, saying that bestselling authors wouldn’t waste time writing commercial stories that wrap up in just a few months.

Even though times had changed, and online authors were no longer looked down upon as much, Shen Xi still worked cautiously for the first couple of months, afraid of making mistakes.

That’s why Editor Chen’s recognition today made her happier than selling film rights…

She frowned, reconsidering: Selling film rights was still more exciting…

Three hours later, Han Ning’s car pulled into a parking spot outside the film studio. The sky had just darkened. Some crews had finished work early, and actors were gathering in groups, preparing for dinner.

Among them was the Nan Yan crew. From a distance, Zhou He Yang saw Han Ning on the phone.

He was puzzled—hadn’t she taken leave to go back to Anhua? Did she not leave, or had she returned already?

Just as he was about to approach her, a female voice came from behind him: “Mm, I’m outside now.”

Zhou He Yang turned around. Shen Xi was holding her phone, talking. The next second, she waved at Han Ning. “Han Ning, I’m here!”

Han Ning beamed and walked over. The two of them got into the car and drove away.

The entire time, they completely ignored Zhou He Yang, the big boss.

“Hey… they don’t even see me, do they?” He nudged Liang Xun with his elbow. “Am I too approachable or something?”

Liang Xun was also on a call and didn’t even look at him. “It’s dark. Maybe they just didn’t see you.” Then he walked away to continue his conversation.

A few seconds later, Zhou He Yang realized—Liang Xun was calling him dark-skinned! He clenched his teeth and muttered to himself, “I really am too approachable!”

Inside the car, the two women sat side by side. Shen Xi held a sleeping Lightning in her arms and chuckled softly. “This little guy has been traveling with you all day. Looks like he’s exhausted.”

Han Ning glanced at her quickly but said nothing.

After a while, Shen Xi noticed the unusual silence. She turned to look at Han Ning and saw that her eyes were slightly red. Shen Xi guessed that she must have cried a lot earlier.

Her lips were pressed together, and she looked unhappy.

A smile appeared in Shen Xi’s eyes. She tugged at Han Ning’s sleeve. “Still sulking?

Didn’t I already apologize?”

“Don’t mess around while I’m driving. Hands off.” Han Ning swatted her hand away and smoothly changed the subject. “What apology? The signal must’ve been bad. I didn’t hear anything.”

“But I heard you huff.”

“You must be imagining things.”

Shen Xi took a deep breath and held back her laughter, nodding. “…Right. I imagined it.”

She composed herself and said seriously, “Then I’ll apologize again. I’m sorry, Han Ning.”

Han Ning felt satisfied. Her lips curled up uncontrollably. If she weren’t driving, she would have jumped up and clapped.

She tried her best to suppress her smile, but her voice trembled with laughter. “You… What exactly… did you do wrong?”

“Everything I said was wrong. They were all just angry words. I shouldn’t have snapped at you before knowing the full story. I shouldn’t have accused you of overstepping boundaries.”

Han Ning wasn’t unreasonable. She wasn’t really mad anymore. If it weren’t for the fact that those days were the anniversary of Jiang Sujie’s passing—a difficult time when she deeply missed her mother—she would have rationally analyzed Shen Xi’s unusual behavior.

Even though she wasn’t angry anymore, those words had still hurt. As the car stopped at a red light, Han Ning asked, “That day, you said, ‘Who do you think you are?’ Now, tell me—who am I to you?”