The Black Lotus Wife Forces Me to Pretend to Be an Omega. - Chapter 37

Inside the suite at Fancheng Hotel, Luo Xiaoxiao and Li Fanshuang sat silently on opposite ends of the luxurious sofa.

Li Fanshuang was flipping through a script while Luo Xiaoxiao studied the hotel layout. This hotel was different from the one arranged by the production crew before—there was only one bedroom suite with a single bed.

“I…”

“What?” Li Fanshuang noticed Luo Xiaoxiao’s fidgeting fingers from the corner of her eye.

What? Was she some kind of terrifying beast that made Luo Xiaoxiao afraid to approach her?

The thought made Li Fanshuang slightly displeased. That morning when she left Jincheng, Luo Xiaoxiao hadn’t even said goodbye.

Pursing her lips, Luo Xiaoxiao finally voiced her thoughts, “I’ll sleep on the sofa…”

“The sofa is for receiving guests. This hotel isn’t just for me—the director or other actors might drop by anytime. You want them to see you living in the living room?”

Luo Xiaoxiao looked surprised, her gaze shifting to the bedroom door. “Then… should we sleep… together?”

“Of course.” Li Fanshuang’s lips curved as she propped her chin on one hand, watching Luo Xiaoxiao with amusement. “Weren’t you enjoying your acting during the show? What? Not willing to share a bed with me now?”

Luo Xiaoxiao’s heart raced wildly like a spring foal galloping across a meadow, each hoofbeat landing directly on her heartstrings. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t calm its frantic rhythm.

“We’re not…” Her voice grew smaller as her ears turned pink. Although their contract hadn’t mentioned this situation, if the other party wanted to…

Huh~ So this is what Li Fanshuang is really like.

Her gaze crept upward to study Li Fanshuang. Today she wore casual attire, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet covering the suite floor. The loose black blazer didn’t emphasize her figure, yet Luo Xiaoxiao felt every movement carried an innate sensuality.

Her throat moved unconsciously. After all, this was her top patron—if things progressed further, it wouldn’t be a loss for her.

Buoyed by this thought, Luo Xiaoxiao lifted her head with newfound confidence—only to surrender instantly when meeting Li Fanshuang’s eyes.

Those eyes held the promise of impending spring rain. When Li Fanshuang’s lips quirked, Luo Xiaoxiao’s traitorous heart skipped another beat.

“What did you want to say?” Li Fanshuang’s smile widened, her gaze turning teasing.

Luo Xiaoxiao snorted, “That would cost extra.”

The words made Li Fanshuang pause, momentarily unsure how to interpret them.

“What do you mean by that?” Li Fanshuang chuckled, the teasing light in her eyes fading as the previously tense atmosphere between them dissipated.

Relieved, Luo Xiaoxiao said as if confirming, “Didn’t you say I should only be after your money?”

“Exactly.” Li Fanshuang answered readily.

Luo Xiaoxiao blinked. So?

Li Fanshuang stood and pushed open the bedroom door, revealing two large beds inside.

“You didn’t think I was inviting you to sleep with me, did you?” Li Fanshuang’s gaze swept over Luo Xiaoxiao from head to toe.

Luo Xiaoxiao felt goosebumps under her stare and immediately waved her hands in protest.

Before she could speak, Li Fanshuang continued, “Judging by your reaction, could it be that you actually want to sleep with me?”

“Absolutely not!” Luo Xiaoxiao’s response was vehement, her ears turning crimson to the tips.

She rose awkwardly, dragging her suitcase toward the bedroom.

“I’m going to my room first.”

With that, Luo Xiaoxiao fled like a startled rabbit, slamming the door shut behind her with a loud bang.

Li Fanshuang chuckled at the closed door. “What’s the point of closing it now? We agreed not to share a bed, not separate rooms.”

She then returned to studying her script—the next scene was an emotional exchange with Zhiyu.

Every time Li Fanshuang tried to immerse herself in the role, she’d look up to see Fu Xinting’s face, and inexplicably, all the emotions she’d built up would vanish as if doused by cold water.

Frustrated, she set the script aside and rubbed her temples. Why was this so exhausting?

Whenever she tried to embody the character, Luo Xiaoxiao’s face would appear in her mind. Perhaps in Li Fanshuang’s heart, Zhiyu had already taken on Luo Xiaoxiao’s likeness.

Sinking into the soft couch, Li Fanshuang’s thoughts drifted back to the set. She had only taken a few hours off at Chen Yu’s request and would need to return soon.

Realizing this, she decided she couldn’t wallow any longer and got up to leave.

CRACK—

A brilliant lightning bolt split the sky, followed by a deafening thunderclap and torrential rain.

“What the…” Li Fanshuang stared at the ominous clouds. The weather had been fine just moments ago.

Just as she was about to ask Chen Yu if filming would continue, her phone rang.

“Li Fanshuang! Hurry back! This atmosphere is perfect for shooting the farewell-in-the-rain scene!”

Here we go again.

Li Fanshuang massaged her forehead. They had already filmed that scene multiple times, but she kept losing focus whenever she saw Fu Xinting’s face.

The scene began with Zhiyu dismounting from her horse. While Fu Xinting, as a professional actress, performed adequately, something about that movement always broke Li Fanshuang’s immersion.

Having read the original novel, Li Fanshuang knew the context: the princess she portrayed had just become crown princess, but with the borders unstable and no generals willing to aid the precarious throne, it was Zhiyu—the maid who had grown up with the princess in the cold palace—who led the royal guards to the front lines. Both were gambling their lives, uncertain if this would be their final goodbye.

Yet their unspoken love paled in significance against the dynasty’s fate and the border crisis.

The princess couldn’t bear to send Zhiyu to war, but Zhiyu refused to let her princess agonize over the decision.

The entire scene required conveying these complex emotions through mere dialogue and exchanged glances—no physical intimacy whatsoever.

“What a headache,” Li Fanshuang muttered under her breath.

On the other end of the phone, Chen Yu heard her complaining tone. “What do you mean? What’s going on with you this time? You actually can’t get into character?”

“It’s not that bad. It’s just that when facing Fu Xinting, I’m missing something.”

“Ah?” Chen Yu sounded incredulous. “This isn’t your first time working with Fu Xinting, is it? What? Has Zhiyu already taken on another image in your mind? Who’s that actress? Just bring her here then! Let her be Fu Xinting’s stand-in. Let me tell you, Fu Xinting is backed by the investors—there’s no way I can replace her.”

Li Fanshuang frowned. The Zhiyu in her heart wasn’t some actress—it was that wife hiding in the room.

But Chen Yu’s words had sobered her up a little. If she brought Luo Xiaoxiao to the set, it might actually work.

However, Luo Xiaoxiao had already refused her once. Li Fanshuang couldn’t keep using acting as an excuse to invite her. She’d have to find another way.

“You said it yourself. I’ll bring her over soon, but you’re wrong—the Zhiyu in my heart isn’t an actress.”

“Ah—” Chen Yu’s surprised response was mercilessly cut off by Li Fanshuang.

Li Fanshuang took a few quick steps to the bedroom door and gently knocked with her delicate fingers.

“Xiaoxiao, I need to talk to you.”

Her voice was soft. She was a very patient person.

After just a brief wait, Luo Xiaoxiao opened the door.

She had changed into a fresh outfit—a shirt and casual pants. Li Fanshuang glanced down and then away. It was a matching set with what she was wearing.

Luo Xiaoxiao huffed. “What is it? Are you going to sleep? Aren’t you here to film?”

“That’s right.” Li Fanshuang chuckled. “But the rain is so heavy now, and I’m scared. Could you come with me? My assistant isn’t here either.”

“Your assistant? That Chen Mahu?” Luo Xiaoxiao frowned. She hadn’t seen her around lately.

Li Fanshuang nodded, silently wondering why such an absurd name rolled off Luo Xiaoxiao’s tongue so naturally—as if she had made it up herself.

Setting aside her doubts for the moment, Li Fanshuang put on a pitiful expression. Unlike Luo Xiaoxiao, her eyes only needed to show a hint of vulnerability to make Luo Xiaoxiao surrender.

“Xiaoxiao, the rain is really heavy. Could you come to the set with me?”

Luo Xiaoxiao’s heart skipped a beat. Had she been too harsh with her tone earlier?

The two stood there, silently gazing at each other. Luo Xiaoxiao stared into Li Fanshuang’s eyes and numbly nodded.

“Okay.”

A sweet smile spread across Li Fanshuang’s lips, melting bit by bit into Luo Xiaoxiao’s heart.

Luo Xiaoxiao smiled too. Seeing Li Fanshuang happy seemed to fill her with inexplicable joy.

Fine, she’d accompany her a little longer—if only to indulge her own little wish.

–

Upon arriving at the set, Luo Xiaoxiao witnessed firsthand what it meant to be a tyrannical director.

This was a scene of farewell in the rain.

The tyrannical director Chen Yu made Li Fanshuang run through the rain over and over again to meet the departing general.

Standing off to the side, Luo Xiaoxiao watched the scene—and Li Fanshu—again and again.

Li Fanshuang played the role of Song Zifei, an unfavored princess who grew up in the cold palace, with only one loyal maid named Zhiyu by her side.

The two relied on each other in the cold palace. After Song Zifei came of age, she finally ascended to the position of crown princess. But the court was filled with wolves waiting to pounce. To intimidate the newly appointed regent, when foreign tribes invaded the borders, not a single minister stepped forward, nor did any general accept the tiger tally.

Just as Song Zifei was about to declare she would go herself, Zhiyu shouldered the burden with her slender frame. Kneeling in the golden hall, she declared firmly, “This subject is willing to share Your Highness’s burden.”

Zhiyu set off at dusk on a day of torrential rain. She thought her princess wouldn’t come to see her off in such weather, yet Song Zifei appeared, having changed out of her python robe, splattered with mud from the storm.

Outside Chang’an’s gates, the young woman stood at the city entrance as raindrops soaked her clothes, like a slender bamboo shoot before the general’s horse.

“Why must you go?” Song Zifei stared fixedly at the figure on horseback, her voice calm yet concealing turbulent emotions she refused to unleash.

Zhiyu dismounted.

At this movement, Luo Xiaoxiao noticed Li Fanshuang’s eyebrows twitch slightly. She felt puzzled—shouldn’t this be a serious moment?

Indeed, Li Fanshuang had broken character again.

“Cut!” Chen Yu shouted impatiently.

Luo Xiaoxiao hurried to drape a coat over Li Fanshuang.

Fu Xinting asked worriedly, “Shuangshuang-jie, are you okay?” Luo Xiaoxiao frowned slightly at what she felt was an overly saccharine tone.

Chen Yu, the obsessive director who didn’t know Luo Xiaoxiao, marched over coldly. “What’s wrong with you? Why so unnatural? You started off perfectly.”

Sheltered under Luo Xiaoxiao’s umbrella, Li Fanshuang remained silent, her gaze lingering on the woman beside her. “Can we use a stand-in?”

“What?” Chen Yu couldn’t believe her ears—the legendary Li Fanshuang asking for a stand-in?

“Am I crazy or are you?”

Realizing the misunderstanding, Li Fanshuang rolled her eyes. “Not for me—for Zhiyu.”

“But I don’t use stand-ins,” Fu Xinting quickly interjected.

Taking a deep breath, Li Fanshuang pulled Luo Xiaoxiao forward. “Use her as Zhiyu’s stand-in.”

Pointing at herself, Luo Xiaoxiao protested, “I can’t act! You just said to accompany you, not this!”

Tugging her sleeve with eyes brimming with pleading, Li Fanshuang whispered, “Xiaoxiao, please.”

Unable to resist, Luo Xiaoxiao found herself agreeing against her better judgment.

Seeing this, Chen Yu threw up her hands. “Twenty minutes to adjust. Don’t waste our time.”

After an OK gesture from Li Fanshuang, the director stormed off.

As others dispersed, Luo Xiaoxiao panicked. “I really can’t act!”

Li Fanshuang arched an eyebrow. “Really? You acted perfectly before. And besides…”

Li Fanshuang’s gaze burned intensely as she reached out to caress Luo Xiaoxiao’s face. “Zhiyu is in the bloom of youth, meant to await a grand wedding procession spanning ten miles. How can she don the armor of a Qilin, all for the sake of my uncertain future?”

In an instant, Luo Xiaoxiao felt the surroundings rapidly recede, as if she were watching that scene she’d viewed countless times, the one they’d performed over and over again.

But this time, Song Zifei seemed to truly stand before her.

And the person Song Zifei was looking at now was Zhiyu.

Zhiyu knelt on one knee, hands clasped in salute, her demeanor as aloof and restrained as ever. “This humble servant only wishes to remain by Your Highness’s side when peace reigns over the land. Please, do not send me away again.”

With that, Zhiyu rose and turned to leave.

Song Zifei hurried forward, her hands reaching out as if to embrace Zhiyu’s waist, but they froze mid-air.

Zhiyu sensed the other’s lingering presence and turned her head slightly in the rain.

“Your Highness, please return to the palace.”

Song Zifei did not move. She stood rooted to the spot, her voice barely above a whisper. “Zhiyu, in your heart… is there a day of return?”

“Your Highness’s favor is boundless. With you waiting, this servant will surely return. Yet the day remains uncertain—forgive this offense.”

Song Zifei drew a deep breath, the rims of her eyes reddening as tears welled up but refused to fall.

“Then I shall wait in the eastern corner, praying for your safety.”

Zhiyu walked away without looking back.

At that moment, Luo Xiaoxiao could no longer distinguish herself—was she Luo Xiaoxiao, or was she Zhiyu, about to leave her beloved behind?

“Xiaoxiao?”

“Xiaoxiao!”

Li Fanshuang’s urgent voice snapped her back as she grasped Luo Xiaoxiao’s arm.

Dazed, Luo Xiaoxiao turned to look at Li Fanshuang beside her. “Your Highness?”

She hadn’t yet shaken off the emotions from before.

A flicker of guilt passed through Li Fanshuang’s eyes as she cupped Luo Xiaoxiao’s face, her expression filled with remorse. “Xiaoxiao, please…”

Tears—whether Song Zifei’s or Li Fanshuang’s—that had been held back for so long finally broke free, spilling down her cheeks.

The sight of those tears jolted Luo Xiaoxiao back to reality. She realized she couldn’t bear to see Song Zifei cry, much less watch Li Fanshuang dissolve into tears before her.

The umbrella in her hand had long been discarded somewhere.

Their impromptu performance, however, had caught Chen Yu’s attention.

“This is it! This is exactly the feeling! This is my Song Zifei! Quick, let’s start filming!”

Luo Xiaoxiao stared blankly at the flurry of activity around her, as if she’d just awoken from a dream.

Li Fanshuang tried to signal Chen Yu—Luo Xiaoxiao wasn’t in the right state to continue filming.

But just as she stood up, Luo Xiaoxiao grasped her wrist. “I’m fine. Once we finish shooting, can we go back?”

“Mn.” Li Fanshuang’s brows furrowed slightly. “Are you really alright?”

“Mn.” Luo Xiaoxiao took a deep breath and nodded.

As everyone took their positions, the props team quickly changed Luo Xiaoxiao’s costume. As a stand-in, she didn’t receive the same elaborate makeup as Fu Xinting.

“Action!”

Song Zifei stood before the city gate, raindrops pelting her face. Her robes were already soaked through, yet she remained as steadfast as a bamboo stalk, refusing to budge.

“Why must you go to war?” Song Zifei lifted her gaze, the stars in her eyes dimmed.

Recognizing the figure approaching, Zhiyu dismounted. An aide handed her an oil-paper umbrella.

Before she could open it to shield Her Highness from the rain, Song Zifei slapped it away.

“Are you deaf?! I’m asking you!” Song Zifei’s anger flared, the corners of his eyes tinged red.

Zhiyu remained silent, standing quietly in the rain.

Song Zifei caressed Zhiyu’s face, just as the two had rehearsed moments ago.

Zhiyu turned and left, mounting his horse, leaving Song Zifei alone in the mud.

“May you find eternal peace,” Song Zifei murmured softly, his words barely audible. “May you find peace, eternal peace, and return to Chang’an soon.”

Not just the two of them—even the crew on set were drawn into Song Zifei’s emotions. The story was no longer just words in a script; it was unfolding right before their eyes.

The princess’s lover was about to depart, their farewell filled with reluctance. Neither had spoken of love, yet their affection for each other was palpable.

A soft sob snapped Chen Yu back to reality.

Some weak-willed crew members had actually started crying.

Chen Yu raised a hand and called out, “Cut!”

Li Fanshuang instantly snapped out of character, casting a worried glance at Luo Xiaoxiao.

Luo Xiaoxiao gasped for breath. She wasn’t a professional actress, but under Li Fanshuang’s emotional pull, she had truly become Zhiyu, sharing that moment with Song Zifei beneath the towers of Chang’an.

“Are you okay?” Li Fanshuang asked, concerned.

Luo Xiaoxiao leaned against the horse, lifting her gaze slightly to meet Li Fanshuang’s. She nodded and dismounted. “I’m fine.”

“But, boss…” Luo Xiaoxiao pouted. She had only come to the set to accompany Li Fanshuang—no one said anything about acting!

Li Fanshuang immediately understood. “Don’t worry. Chen Yu isn’t as stingy as Sun Lei. You did great just now—she won’t shortchange you.”

At this, Luo Xiaoxiao’s eyes lit up. She knew she wouldn’t be working for free. After standing in the rain for so long, she deserved at least 100 yuan.

“You’re amazing,” Chen Yu said, walking up to Luo Xiaoxiao with a burning gaze. But her excitement quickly faded, replaced by a troubled expression.

“What a shame.”

Li Fanshuang arched a brow, knowing exactly what Chen Yu regretted—the role of Zhiyu had already been promised to Fu Xinting.

“You’re really talented. What’s your name?” Fu Xinting asked with a smile, stepping beside Li Fanshuang and tilting her umbrella slightly toward her.

Luo Xiaoxiao narrowed her eyes, sizing up the woman dressed just like her. “What brand of plastic bag are you?”

“Huh?” Fu Xinting froze, caught off guard by the bluntness.

Chen Yu burst into laughter, clapping Li Fanshuang on the shoulder. “Your wife’s got a sharp tongue—I like it. If only she could curse out the investors too.”

Of course, that was just the director’s wishful thinking.

Fu Xinting was a seasoned player. Even if Luo Xiaoxiao’s words stung, she maintained a polite smile. “This little sister sure has a sense of humor.”

Well, well. This green tea was different from Yuan Zhiqing—she was a tough one.

Luo Xiaoxiao tugged at Li Fanshuang’s sleeve and said in a sugary voice, “Wifey, you haven’t introduced me to this big sister yet?”

Fu Xinting widened her eyes, then turned to Li Fanshuang beside her with a hurt expression. “Sister Shuangshuang, am I… that old?”

Li Fanshuang nodded solemnly. “This is my wife Luo Xiaoxiao. She’s nineteen this year. You are indeed a few years older than her.”

Fu Xinting took a deep breath. She hadn’t expected Li Fanshuang to not take her side. Could she have been mistaken? Were these two really together?

“So you’re that little massage girl!” Fu Xinting exclaimed loudly, drawing curious glances from the rest of the crew.

Countless eyes instantly turned to Luo Xiaoxiao.

Li Fanshuang wanted to say something when she noticed the situation.

Luo Xiaoxiao spoke up first, “That’s right, it’s me. Would you like to try my skills? I have the proper certification.”

“No thanks, I’m a bit of a germaphobe,” Fu Xinting replied with a smile, though her words dripped with sarcasm.

Luo Xiaoxiao clicked her tongue, unfazed. “So you look down on nationally issued certifications, huh? Have you never had a massage before? Is that why you despise our profession?”

Fu Xinting was momentarily stunned—she hadn’t expected such a comeback.

“You—”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Li Fanshuang took Chen Yu’s umbrella and pulled Luo Xiaoxiao away. “You’re soaked. Let’s go change first.”

Luo Xiaoxiao hummed in agreement, letting herself be led away.

Fu Xinting glared at their retreating figures, grinding her teeth.

Seeing this, Chen Yu shouted at Li Fanshuang’s back, “You heartless wretch!”

Then she turned to Fu Xinting. “My advice? Don’t do anything that’ll make you look bad.”

“Director Chen, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” Fu Xinting composed her expression, though a flicker of unease rose in her chest.

Chen Yu scoffed. “You owe a lot to Li Fanshuang from years back. You should know how to spell ‘gratitude.’ The Pavilion of Knowing Fish is a major IP—someone of your caliber playing the female lead? Ha!”

With a cold laugh, Chen Yu said no more and walked away.

She hadn’t spelled it out, but the message was clear: Fu Xinting had only gotten into this production through underhanded means. She’d better keep her head down.

–

In the break room, Li Fanshuang handed Luo Xiaoxiao a towel.

“Rough day?”

“Do you think she’ll give me a hundred bucks?”

“Huh?” Li Fanshuang was taken aback. All this time, you’ve been silent just thinking about that?

Chen Yu wasn’t that stingy, was she?

Luo Xiaoxiao checked the time. It was getting late, the weather was bad, she hadn’t finished today’s training, and her stomach was already growling traitorously.

“When do you wrap up?”

“Soon. Why? Tired?” Li Fanshuang raised an eyebrow.

Luo Xiaoxiao shook her head. “I’m hungry.”

“You’ll have to wait a bit. There probably isn’t enough boxed meals left.”