The Paranoid Film Queen Doesn’t Want to Remarry - Chapter 1
“Xu-jie, Muyu-jie couldn’t get away, so she asked me to take you to the celebration banquet. I’ll be there in an hour.”
Xu Weishuang held the phone, hearing the voice of Fu Zhizhi—Yan Muyu’s junior apprentice—on the other end. She responded blandly, “Got it. Thank you.”
She wasn’t surprised Yan Muyu wouldn’t come pick her up. Even though, in the heat of passion last night, Yan Muyu had promised to accompany her today—when had Yan Muyu ever followed through on anything she said in bed?
Today’s event was a celebration for Yan Muyu winning the Shiratori Best Actress Award. But it was already her third time receiving it, so it wasn’t particularly meaningful. Though called a “celebration,” it was really just a casual gathering of friends and a few congratulations.
Fu Zhizhi chatted for a bit more on the phone, but Xu Weishuang only replied briefly. Fu Zhizhi was used to her cold demeanor and didn’t think much of it before hanging up.
Xu Weishuang spaced out in bed for a moment before getting up to get ready.
She wasn’t feeling well. After six years of marriage, Yan Muyu had become increasingly uninhibited in bed—more aggressive, more controlling.
Xu Weishuang had always cooperated, indulging Yan Muyu’s extremes, which only encouraged her more.
She was physically drained and in no mood to see Muyu’s so-called “friends.”
Six years ago, Xu Weishuang was still in school when she rose to fame playing a tragic supporting role in a youth film. She won both Best Newcomer and Best Supporting Actress.
At the peak of her budding career, she married Yan Muyu—who was then at the height of her fame, a top-tier actress who had just taken home a major award. Her sudden marriage to a student shocked everyone.
People familiar with Yan Muyu believed she had found a stand-in—everyone knew she once had a long-lost lover named Si Yu, her “white moonlight,” who had passed away years ago.
Xu Weishuang’s eyes looked almost exactly like hers.
Even Xu Weishuang believed it. Yan Muyu always covered her eyes during s3x. But in their most intimate moments, Muyu would gently kiss her eyes through the thin blindfold—soft, warm kisses that soaked in her tears.
It felt like she was kissing someone she truly loved.
But Xu Weishuang never felt that love was for her.
Yan Muyu’s gaze was always gentle and deep, but it never held affection.
She had known from the beginning.
Still, she married Yan Muyu and withdrew from the entertainment industry. That award-winning film was the last role she ever played.
Yan Muyu’s fans cursed her, saying the actress must’ve been blackmailed into marriage. Xu Weishuang’s own fans called her a fool in love, quitting her career at twenty for a woman.
But she disappeared completely, and soon no one talked about her anymore.
Yan Muyu’s career remained unaffected. Over the years, she racked up countless awards, needing only the Golden Heron to complete the grand slam.
Occasionally, someone would bring up Xu Weishuang in relation to Yan Muyu. Most would just call her “that stand-in Muyu married.”
Those who knew her sighed at the waste of her talent.
Xu Weishuang didn’t care.
She dressed neatly and elegantly. By the time she was ready, nearly an hour had passed.
Fu Zhizhi called again to say she was nearby. Xu Weishuang caught sight of the marks Yan Muyu had left on her neck last night.
She only frowned, not bothering to cover them. She picked up the congratulatory gift she’d prepared and stepped outside—just as Fu Zhizhi pulled up.
“Xu-jie.” Although Fu Zhizhi was a year older, she called her jie out of respect for her seniority in name. No one else called her that.
Yan Muyu’s friends all saw Xu Weishuang as a stand-in. She gave her no resources, never spoke of her publicly unless needed for appearances. As a result, they all looked down on her.
Xu Weishuang nodded slightly. Wearing light makeup, her already cool demeanor was now practically icy—so serene she seemed untouchable. Even Fu Zhizhi felt a chill.
She didn’t seem like someone easy to get close to.
Fu Zhizhi looked down awkwardly.
That probably explained why others kept their distance too.
In the car, Fu Zhizhi tried to smooth things over for her senior, explaining that Yan Muyu had only been held up briefly and had made sure to ask her to pick Xu Weishuang up.
But Xu Weishuang said nothing.
“Are you upset, Xu-jie?” Fu Zhizhi finally asked, feeling a little exasperated. If she’d known it would be this awkward, she wouldn’t have agreed to come.
“Why would I be upset?” Xu Weishuang finally reacted, turning toward her with a calm but questioning expression.
She seemed genuinely puzzled by the question.
But everyone believed she was deeply in love with Yan Muyu. Given how coldly Muyu treated her, she should be heartbroken.
Fu Zhizhi thought she was just hiding her feelings and didn’t press the issue.
They soon arrived at a music lounge. The celebration was low-key, just some friends gathering in a nice, private setting.
Fu Zhizhi led Xu Weishuang into a private room, only to find Yan Muyu already there. Turns out she had finished her business early and arrived first, assuming Fu Zhizhi had already gone to pick Xu Weishuang up.
But to Fu Zhizhi and Xu Weishuang, it simply looked like Yan Muyu didn’t care enough.
Fu Zhizhi froze in embarrassment, unsure how to break the tension.
Xu Weishuang, however, walked up to Yan Muyu as if nothing was wrong and handed over her gift.
“Congratulations.” Her voice was cool, but genuine. Her eyes focused on Muyu with deep intensity.
As if Muyu was the only person in the world.
Fu Zhizhi couldn’t tell if she was angry or not.
But even if she was—what could she do? Xu Weishuang never lost her temper, no matter how poorly she was treated.
“Thank you.” Yan Muyu smiled and accepted the gift, not even bothering to open it—clearly indifferent to its contents.
She reached out, took Xu Weishuang’s wrist, and pulled her to sit beside her.
“You look lovely. Are those the earrings I gave you last time?” Yan Muyu leaned close, warm breath tickling her neck.
Her fingers brushed the tassels of the earrings, grazing her earlobe and making her shiver.
Xu Weishuang didn’t pull away. After a pause, she replied, “Mm, yes.”
In fact, they weren’t. These were earrings Xu Weishuang had bought herself and never worn in front of Muyu. The ones Muyu gave her didn’t suit her taste—she only wore them once to be polite.
But…
She didn’t really care what Muyu gave her. As long as Muyu looked at her—those eyes always brimming with false tenderness—she was satisfied.
Yan Muyu was soft-spoken and graceful, with the elegance of an aristocrat.
She was from a powerful family. The paparazzi had never managed to dig up anything about her background. All they knew was that the Yan family was very private and well-connected.
In her youth, she had sharp features. Now, she was warm and refined—a rare beauty in the industry. Combined with her background, it was no wonder she was so popular.
Her only “flaw” was marrying Xu Weishuang six years ago—and still not divorcing her.
“They suit you.” Yan Muyu said as she pulled Xu Weishuang close, brushing stray hair from her forehead.
Xu Weishuang’s waist still ached from the night before, her body overly sensitive. The touch made her flinch.
Yan Muyu noticed, lowering her eyes slightly. Her gaze, soft as water, always appeared affectionate—even when it wasn’t.
It gave people the illusion she truly loved them.
Xu Weishuang had seen even more passionate versions of those eyes before, but they still made her heart flutter.
She shook her head to indicate she was fine and gently traced Muyu’s brow with her fingers—lingering and full of longing.
But Muyu disliked public displays of affection. She immediately caught her hand and subtly warned her with a smile.
Xu Weishuang was used to obeying. She fell quiet and sat still.
Besides Fu Zhizhi, there were two others in the room—childhood friends of Yan Muyu. Xu Weishuang had met them a few times, but always kept her distance.
They exchanged greetings, but the atmosphere remained cool.
Whenever Xu Weishuang attended these gatherings, she was nothing more than decoration. When Muyu was there, it was tolerable. But once she left to use the restroom, her two friends dropped the act.
They were from wealthy families connected to the Yan clan and clearly looked down on Xu Weishuang.
The first time they’d insulted her, she hadn’t even defended herself. And since Yan Muyu didn’t scold them afterward, they figured Muyu didn’t care either.
After that, the mockery only got worse.
They kept it polite when Muyu or Fu Zhizhi were around. But now, with Muyu gone, they showed their true faces.
“Some people really think they’ve got Muyu wrapped around their finger. Don’t they know stand-ins are always replaceable?”
“Muyu really should’ve found someone who matched her status.”
They weren’t even trying to hide it from Fu Zhizhi this time—she already knew, after all.
Fu Zhizhi looked uncomfortable, glancing at Xu Weishuang’s calm expression. She thought the woman looked pitiful.
Yan Muyu had found a new “stand-in” recently, bringing her to a film festival. The girl looked even more like the deceased Si Yu—youthful and pure.
Seeing that Xu Weishuang had no reaction, the two women pushed further, showing her a video on their phone.
In the video, the new girl followed Muyu closely. She looked almost identical to Si Yu—young and innocent.
Yan Muyu gently shielded her, the very picture of a protector.
Xu Weishuang lowered her gaze. As usual, she said nothing.
Just then, Yan Muyu returned. She knocked before entering, missing the scene entirely.
“Let’s eat. I’m starving,” she said cheerfully, sitting beside Xu Weishuang again.
Perhaps because her hands were freshly washed, her touch made Xu Weishuang flinch from the sudden cold.
Muyu paused, then firmly took her hand again.
“You’re cold? Then help warm me up, won’t you?” she said softly, eyes gleaming with affection.
As if she were gazing at the one she loved most in the world.
Xu Weishuang froze.
Yan Muyu rarely acted affectionate in public. Xu Weishuang was momentarily puzzled.
But she quickly brushed it aside.
And replied in a whisper, “Okay.”
She didn’t really care.
Whatever people thought—she and Yan Muyu had never been what they imagined.