Substitute Lover (GL) - Chapter 8

A gentle drizzle fell during the night, yet the room remained peaceful.

A dreamless night passed.

Jiang Cha woke up first, her eyelashes fluttering as the morning light touched her eyes. She found herself nestled in Ji Fan’s arms. Her head was gently resting against Ji Fan’s warm neck, her legs wrapped around Ji Fan’s waist. Both of them were still naked, yet their posture was tender and intimate.

She blinked and slowly leaned in, her lips gently touching Ji Fan’s. The sensation was slightly cool.

The woman was still fast asleep, which was rare.

Ji Fan was a light sleeper, Jiang Cha knew. Usually when Jiang Cha woke up, her side of the bed was always empty, the sheets cold. Ji Fan would have already gotten up, dressed, and was ready for work.

But now she was sound asleep.

The corners of Jiang Cha’s lips curled up, her eyes filled with tenderness.

She carefully lifted the thin blanket, got out of bed, and picked up the clothes scattered all over the floor one by one. Ji Fan’s shirts, skirts, stockings, underwear.

Humming softly, Jiang Cha gathered the clothes into a bundle, her nose filled with Ji Fan’s scent—faint and cool, like cedarwood with a hint of sandalwood. Ji Fan always used the same perfume, Diptyque Tam Dao EDT, a woody floral scent with a neutral leaning. Over time, even without spraying perfume, the fragrance seemed to have become a fixed part of her, lingering on her clothes.

She put the clothes in the washing machine and turned to go back to the room, but Ji Fan was already awake, and she didn’t know if she had woken her up.

Ji Fan propped herself up on the bed, quietly watching her, her eyes clear and focused, a stark contrast to her wild appearance from last night. Ji Fan gathered her long hair to one side, letting it loose, with a natural morning laziness. Her hair was thick and beautifully curled, but it was quite stiff, looking very elastic, quite different from Jiang Cha’s.

Ji Fan’s voice was a little hoarse as she said softly, “What time is it?”

“A little past ten,” Jiang Cha walked over, sat on the bed, and said softly, “It’s the weekend, so it’s okay to be late.”

Ji Fan was a little surprised.

She hadn’t slept this soundly in a long time. Of course, it might also be because she had gone wild last night. For some reason, she had suddenly felt very excited last night, and they had gone at it several times, exhausting herself. It wasn’t surprising that she was now fast asleep.

The angry Jiang Cha was unexpectedly cute, and Ji Fan, who rarely saw her so emotional, couldn’t help but feel a sense of novelty. Jiang Cha was a bit special, and Ji Fan often had the feeling that she might like her – but it wasn’t strange for a sugar mommy to like their sugar baby, after all, who wouldn’t like someone who gives them money.

As for her behavior last night, whether she cared about her own performance or something else – Ji Fan felt a headache just thinking about it. She didn’t want Jiang Cha to care about her at all, so she simply put it aside.

Regardless, Ji Fan was in a good mood. She pulled Jiang Cha over, kissed her forehead, and asked softly, “You’ve been driving that car for a while now. Want to change it?”

Jiang Cha opened her eyes wide in confusion, and after a moment, she slowly shook her head, “No need.”

Her originally happy, deer-like eyes drooped, seeming a bit disappointed.

Ji Fan was a bit surprised. She stroked her chin and smiled at her, “Then what do you want?”

“I want you to spend more time with me,” Jiang Cha leaned in and kissed her cheek, smiling sweetly.

If someone else saw her smile like that, with her bright eyes and pearly teeth, they probably couldn’t resist.

But Ji Fan merely patted her head and smiled ambiguously.

Ji Fan had seen many people who were blinded by beauty, like her father. For the sake of his mistress, he almost lost most of his family fortune, which was very embarrassing. Ji Fan considered herself clear-headed and knew that she would never get too involved in certain things.

A plaything is a plaything. If you take it seriously, you’ll only end up hurting yourself.

As for Jiang Cha’s seemingly genuine care, Ji Fan didn’t want to think too deeply about it.

••••

In the afternoon, Jiang Cha went to see Song Baiwei according to the location Yang Yan sent her.

She had received a new script, tentatively titled “Camel Cigarettes,” a dual-female, Republican-era film with a touch of espionage.

Director Song Baiwei was famous in the industry for her ability to combine art films and commercial films, achieving both box office success and critical acclaim. She had extremely high standards for actors and scripts, paying particular attention to the actors’ temperament and the fit with the original script.

As for why such a good director would take a liking to her –

Jiang Cha was initially puzzled, but after reading the script, she understood immediately.

It was probably because of her face.

The film was about two female protagonists, twin spies. Since they were twins, they had to look similar first. The director had already chosen the actress Luo Yan, who had just won an award, to play the older sister, the female spy. As for the younger sister, there were two options.

The first was for Luo Yan to play both roles and use post-production editing to achieve the effect of twin sisters.

The second was to find an actress with a similar appearance.

With a quick thought, she thought of Jiang Cha.

But it seemed that the director didn’t trust Jiang Cha, so she still had to participate in the audition and screening to determine if she was suitable for the role of the “younger sister.”

Jiang Cha dared not be careless and made thorough preparations.

Song Baiwei’s office was spacious, with pale yellow walls adorned with a few framed stills. In the middle of the office stood a tall, zigzagging bookshelf, filled with various sized trophies and film review magazines, looking both cluttered and organized.

When Jiang Cha entered, she was the only one inside.

Beside the bookshelf, a woman with an extremely elegant demeanor was standing, looking up, searching for something on the high shelf.

She was wearing a white trench coat, her figure slender, and a khaki Japanese-style small lapel shirt that gave her a slightly artistic feel. The white trench coat was thin, and a gentle breeze lifted the hem, revealing an orange suede long skirt that reached just above her ankles.

At that moment, she was facing away from Jiang Cha, her long, linen-colored curly hair tied in a low ponytail, and her profile was like white jade, smooth and lustrous.

Jiang Cha stood at the door and said softly, “Director Song… is that you?”

As if Jiang Cha’s gaze was too obvious, Song Baiwei turned her head slightly and looked at Jiang Cha with a faint smile.

She smiled and said, “Jiang Cha, come in.”

Her voice was a soft, smoky voice, very pleasant to hear.

Jiang Cha had only paid attention to the movies Song Baiwei had directed and hadn’t thought about what she looked like.

Upon seeing her now, she was a bit surprised.

She looked so young.

Sure enough, talent had nothing to do with age. Some people became famous at a young age and were incredibly talented, while others couldn’t produce anything decent even when they were old. Jiang Cha felt a bit of respect towards her and couldn’t help but become nervous and restrained.

“Sit down first.”

Song Baiwei bent down, warmed a pot of tea, poured a small cup, and handed it to her, “Have you read the script?”

Jiang Cha took the small white porcelain cup, flattered, and hurriedly said, “Thank you, Director Song. I have.”

The tea was ordinary Da Hong Pao, not expensive, but it smelled very fragrant.

Jiang Cha took a sip, put it back on the tea table, and then sat there a bit stiff.

Song Baiwei looked at her and suddenly chuckled.

Jiang Cha was puzzled and even more terrified. She asked softly, “Director Song, what’s wrong?”

Song Baiwei was very easygoing and simply waved her hand, “Don’t be nervous, I’m not going to eat you.” She stood up, picked up a script from the table, and turned a page for her, “Act this part for me.”

Jiang Cha thought it was the script for “Camel Cigarettes,” but looking at the lines that were so familiar, she suddenly widened her eyes.

Those lines were clearly from “Blind Youth.”

“Blind Youth” was a realistic film depicting the lives of the underclass, a recognized masterpiece in the mainland film industry a few years ago, and it was the film that had made Luo Yan famous overnight and won her the Best Actress award. With this film as a foundation, Luo Yan had soared to great heights, her status becoming unattainable for many.

But who would have known that the original female lead for this film had been Jiang Cha.

Jiang Cha’s face turned pale, and her fingertips trembled uncontrollably.

“I…” Jiang Cha’s lips moved a few times, and she asked slowly, “Director Song, did you get the wrong script?”

“No.” Song Baiwei turned her head slightly, looking at her expression, her eyes deep, “I really like this film, can’t you act it for me?”

Act?

Of course, she could.

Or rather, she had once memorized it, practiced it countless times in front of the mirror. How could she not?

But Jiang Cha struggled to stand up, her whole body stiff.

Everyone has a scar in their heart, one that has just healed and grown new flesh, but is easily reopened and bleeds again.

For Jiang Cha, that scar was the movie “Blind Youth”.

She had always been unable to face or confront her past experience in this film. Thinking about it made her feel embarrassed and even slightly nauseous.

Jiang Cha buried her face in her hands, took a deep breath, and was about to begin when Song Baiwei spoke again.

“Forget it.”

She sighed softly.

There was a hint of helplessness and regret in her tone.

Jiang Cha didn’t understand what she meant.

“I was there when you auditioned for ‘Blind Youth’,” Song Baiwei smiled and commented, “You were very impressive. I still remember it, even after all these years.”

“At that time, I thought that this little girl had a lot of talent, a promising young actress.”

Jiang Cha opened her eyes wide in surprise, looking at her in bewilderment and disbelief.

Song Baiwei smiled and poured her another cup of tea, handing it to her with her white, slender fingers. “I just wanted to see you act again, that’s all.”

“Thank you,” Jiang Cha said softly, her ears turning red.

She felt both ashamed and pressured by the sudden sense of being valued.

“The dramas you’ve taken on these past few years haven’t been good. Bad dramas can easily wear down your talent, you know.” Song Baiwei said, “I hope you’ll adjust your state in the next few days and try to get back to how you were before.”

“Okay. Thank you, Director Song.” Jiang Cha nodded apologetically.

“I have the casting rights for this ‘Camel Cigarettes’ movie, so don’t worry.”

As she was leaving, Song Baiwei spoke again from behind.

Jiang Cha paused, turned around, bowed to her, and then said, “Thank you, Director Song.”

Song Baiwei couldn’t help but chuckle, “Is ‘thank you’ all you can say?”

Jiang Cha stammered and blushed.

••••

In the evening, someone from the THU alumni association contacted a group of highly successful graduates, suggesting a dinner to reminisce about their youth.

Ji Fan was specifically invited by her university classmates. She hesitated at first, as she had never been fond of these kinds of gatherings even when she was a student. But then she heard that Jiang Cha had also been invited. She couldn’t help but chuckle. Yes, she had almost forgotten that Jiang Cha was a graduate of the same university and, according to seniority, should address her as “senior sister.”

She heard Jiang Cha happily agree over the phone, saying, “Oh, okay, okay.”

Ji Fan, on a whim, agreed as well.

Jiang Cha spent some time in her room, put on makeup, and got dressed.

Ji Fan looked at her and took a cashmere scarf from the closet, draping it over her to conceal the alluring view of her chest.

“Don’t take the scarf off,” Ji Fan said, explaining when she saw Jiang Cha’s reluctance, “The air conditioning inside is very cold, you might catch a cold.”

Jiang Cha looked at her mismatched attire and couldn’t help but laugh.

Ji Fan asked the driver to drop Jiang Cha off first, then set off herself. After all, their relationship was not public.

While it was called a dinner, it was actually more of a networking event.

Those who were invited had made a name for themselves in various fields after graduation: doctors, lawyers, writers, actors, financiers, and lab researchers. The adult world was different from their student days; it emphasized “effective socializing.” The friends one made and the people one knew had to have some value. Ji Fan found it rather boring.

Whether it was due to her fame or not, Jiang Cha was naturally a target for those looking to network.

The streetlights were already on, and night had fallen. The dinner was held at a very authentic Sichuan restaurant near their alma mater.

The exterior was quite antique, with red walls, black tiles, and slightly upturned eaves. The interior was dimly lit, with several large red lanterns hanging, creating a lively atmosphere.

The private rooms were divided by graduation year. Ji Fan was three years older than Jiang Cha and was in a different room. When she arrived, a waiter at the door led Jiang Cha through several turns and then to a door with a small wooden sign that said “Bihuchun” in green paint.

When she pushed open the door, a circle of university classmates were sitting inside. Those from the same department knew each other, but those from different departments had never heard of each other.

When they saw her, they all joked, “Oh, the big star is here.”

Jiang Cha waved her hands embarrassedly, “I was just a poor student back then, how can I compare to you guys?”

Jiang Cha was wearing a suspender plaid dress that covered half of her thighs, making her figure look slender. The grass-green color made her skin look fair and added a touch of vitality. She tied her long hair into a ponytail, revealing her smooth forehead, and exuded a strong sense of youth.

However, the extra scarf covered her soft chest, as if it were intentional.

Someone noticed and jokingly probed, “Does Jiang Cha have a boyfriend now?”

Jiang Cha was startled.

Then, as if afraid she’d feel awkward, everyone started shouting, “Don’t pry into celebrities’ private lives!”

With that, the topic was abruptly changed.

After drinking some red wine, everyone became more talkative.

Jiang Cha felt a pair of eyes on her from time to time. It was a woman, wearing a cream-colored shirt and dark blue jeans, with a very gentle demeanor. Listening to their conversation, she seemed to be a doctor.

Then they started talking about who had gotten married and started gossiping about a few couples from their university days. The woman spoke up, “What about Jiang Cha? I don’t think she dated anyone in college, did she?”

Jiang Cha shook her head.

“I’ve liked someone for six years,” she said.

Ji Fan paused in her steps on the way to the restroom.

It was Jiang Cha’s voice, chatting casually with someone on the other side of the door.

“Who?”

Someone asked, their voice muffled through the wooden door.

Jiang Cha lowered her head, stammering, her face flushed.

“So are you two together now?” someone asked.

“Yeah, we’ve been together since college,” she replied.

“Tch, another lovey-dovey couple,” someone else scoffed. “You’re showing off too much, Jiang Cha. Don’t you know that more than half of us at this table are single?”

Jiang Cha laughed, a light and carefree sound.

A weight lifted from Ji Fan’s heart.

So, they’d been together since college. She was probably talking about her. But describing their relationship as “together” felt new to Ji Fan. She had always thought of it more as her “having Jiang Cha since college.”

Ji Fan smiled softly.

So Jiang Cha actually liked her?

And for six years?

For some reason, Ji Fan felt a strange tightness in her chest, as if someone had squeezed her heart. She couldn’t catch her breath.

She felt a slight, complex sense of guilt. As for this girl who genuinely liked her, Ji Fan couldn’t tell if she felt more guilty or more pity.

She only knew one thing.

She couldn’t reciprocate Jiang Cha’s feelings.

She could give her money, the resources she wanted, and any other material things.

But she couldn’t give her an equal love.

T/N: You don’t need to reciprocate her feelings; just let her go freely when she asks you to let go.