Transmigrating into the Rival's Fanfiction - Chapter 13

“I’m sorry, Miss Sheng. I’ll make it up to you for tonight.”

Qin Zhi began to deeply reproach herself, realizing she had once again affected someone else because of her own actions.

“It’s alright, Teacher Qin. I understand… People need time to process things. I can understand.”

“I’ve already done so much. Let’s talk about the rest later.”

Sheng Mingluo picked up the hairdryer and began carefully drying her hair.

“Thank you… I know my temperament is a bit peculiar, not something most people can tolerate.”

Qin Zhi pulled back the covers and settled into bed. Her calves ached from climbing stone steps all day. She closed her eyes and sighed inwardly. Her sleep had always been light and easily disturbed.

Though she had shared beds with others before, she had always needed sleeping pills to fall asleep. A doctor had told her that her insomnia stemmed from excessive worrying.

But tonight, for some reason, Qin Zhi didn’t want to take sleeping pills in front of Sheng Mingluo. Having already hurt her feelings once today, such an act would feel unbearably cruel.

Qin Zhi was adept at reading people’s hearts, but often she simply didn’t care to bother, unwilling to waste time considering others’ feelings.

“Good night, Teacher Qin.”

Sheng Mingluo lifted a corner of the blanket and squeezed in beside Qin Zhi. The faint scent of mugwort drifted from the corner, filling her nostrils. She gazed at Qin Zhi’s face.

Qin Zhi’s gaze lingered on her. Suddenly, a notification popped up on Sheng Mingluo’s phone, breaking the spell between them. She reached out with her slender wrist and picked up the device.

A substantial sum of money had been transferred to her account.

Is this the compensation she mentioned earlier?

A strange, indescribable warmth stirred in Sheng Mingluo’s heart. Her throat tightened as she recalled Qin Zhi’s gentle caresses and kisses from earlier.

“Thank you, Teacher Qin, but I don’t need this up here on the mountain.”

She set the phone aside, her body trembling beneath the blanket, and turned her back to Qin Zhi.

Is she angry?

Qin Zhi wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what to say. She felt utterly helpless in this situation. Even during filming, she had always disliked male and female actors who took on roles with excessive nudity.

Some directors absurdly claimed it was “artistic sacrifice,” but it was really just a way to push boundaries. Truly great works didn’t need such sensational elements to captivate audiences.

Qin Zhi’s greatest weakness as an actress—and the reason she had previously only taken on Great Female Lead roles—was the complete absence of any yearning for desire in her eyes, any trace of human longing.

Could this be heaven’s punishment for her?

Each woman drifted off to sleep with her own thoughts weighing heavily on her mind, sleeping soundly until dawn.

Sheng Mingluo, ever pragmatic, refused to dwell on her worries. Let Qin Zhi stew in her awkwardness, she thought. If I wallow in self-pity over this, I’ll only suffocate myself.

That massive sum from last night would be better spent on some handbags.

Louis Vuitton, Prada—here I come! Sheng Mingluo eagerly opened the official websites, her eyes lighting up at the several models she had long coveted but never been able to afford.

Though her parents never asked for money, Sheng Mingluo’s daily expenses were considerable, mostly spent on luxury goods. She didn’t care much about food or drinks, as long as she could indulge in her lavish tastes.

After gleefully purchasing all the bags she wanted, Sheng Mingluo realized she hadn’t even used half of the money Qin Zhi had transferred. I’m becoming decadent, she thought.

When I was reading the novel, I condemned the author and insisted I wasn’t the type to be so money-grubbing. But… now I regret it!

The thought of her soft, fragrant little purse nestled against her chest sent shivers of delight through Sheng Mingluo. It wasn’t that she was becoming decadent; it was simply that Qin Zhi had given her so much.

“Ladies, it’s time for makeup,” the makeup artist called out. Sheng Mingluo obediently settled into the chair, already dressed in her costume: the simple white disciple robes of the Swordforging Manor, embroidered with silver cloud patterns that shimmered like ripples on blue water.

“Teacher Sheng, your skin is truly remarkable! Which beauty salon do you go to?” the makeup artist asked, her eyes filled with envy as she gazed at Sheng Mingluo’s porcelain-white complexion, so delicate it seemed almost translucent.

While Sheng Mingluo did take good care of her skin, it wasn’t quite as exaggerated in reality. She could only attribute it to the author’s penchant for flowery descriptions. Still, it felt rather nice; even when Sheng Mingluo touched her own face, it felt as smooth as a baby’s skin.

The conversation drifted to beauty salons, and Sheng Mingluo and the makeup artist grew increasingly animated.

Qin Zhi, now changed into her costume, emerged from the dressing room. Her crimson robes, though simply patterned, exuded nobility. A leather belt cinched tightly at her waist, and her long hair was pulled back, revealing sharp, sword-like eyebrows and bright, starry eyes. The valiant Princess seemed to have stepped straight from the pages of a book, leaping vividly to life.

In an instant, all eyes were drawn to her. Sheng Mingluo stared in stunned silence.

This is far too accurate to the original work.

Qin Zhi glanced at her, a hint of guilt in her eyes. Sheng Mingluo had woken up early that morning, and Qin Zhi hadn’t managed to exchange a single word with her.

She wondered if she had gone too far the previous night. After all, Sheng Mingluo only wanted to escape this world sooner.

To her surprise, Sheng Mingluo winked and smiled.

“Teacher Qin, come sit down. The three of us can chat for a while.”

Her long robe swirled as she gestured to the stool beside her. Seeing that Sheng Mingluo genuinely didn’t mind, Qin Zhi breathed a sigh of relief and sat down beside her.

Sheng Mingluo thought she should break the awkward atmosphere. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t angry about the previous night—no one could endure such humiliation. She had washed herself thoroughly, yet Qin Zhi still refused to touch her.

But what could she do? She was just a washed-up, 18th-tier celebrity.

In life, patience was key.

“I should thank Teacher Qin for her generous assistance. Now I can finally bring my treasures home.”

Qin Zhi allowed the makeup artist to apply cosmetics to her face, raising an eyebrow in confusion at Sheng Mingluo’s mention of “enthusiastic assistance.”

“If you like it, that’s all that matters,” she replied, continuing the conversation.

“I love it. I absolutely love it.”

After the makeup was finished, they would take promotional photos to build hype for the film. News of Director Zhao acquiring the rights to the Long Blade’s Bitter Regret novel had already spread like wildfire, sparking widespread speculation about which actors would be cast.

Sheng Mingluo also had a companion sword. Director Zhao had commissioned a renowned craftsman to forge it over nearly six months, achieving an almost perfect recreation of the longsword described in the novel.

The sword was named Cold Pool Sword. Like a cold pool reflecting a person’s image, it could claim a life in the blink of an eye.

It was the masterpiece of her father, the master of Swordforging Manor, crafted from extremely cold Profound Iron sourced from the Western Regions. The white scabbard was incredibly light yet retained the sword’s lethal aura and killing intent, making it one of the finest blades in the world.