Transmigrating into the Rival's Fanfiction - Chapter 16

“Teacher Qin, if you’re sick, you should get treatment.”

As soon as Sheng Mingluo spoke, she wanted to slap herself. What kind of thing is that to say? It sounds even more hurtful!

“I’m not sick, Miss Sheng.”

Well, this stubborn mule is still pretending to be tough.

Sheng Mingluo couldn’t be bothered to call her out. Noticing how much of Qin Zhi’s skin was exposed, she reluctantly got out of bed, grabbed the small blanket from the bed, and draped it over her.

“I don’t know if you’re angry with me or with yourself, but I hope you’ll prioritize your health, Teacher Qin.”

“It’s cold by the water at night.”

“Put your slippers on.”

Still holding Qin Zhi’s slippers, Sheng Mingluo bent down and gently placed them beside her. She was treating Qin Zhi like a child.

The blanket slipped from Qin Zhi’s shoulders to her back. Her fingers tightened around the fabric. The fluffy slippers lay beside her feet, yet somehow, the turmoil in her heart had lessened.

Obediently, she slid her toes into the slippers. Without the biting cold, Qin Zhi realized how out of control her emotions had been.

“I’m sorry…”

The same apology echoed in her ears again. Sheng Mingluo had already heard it twice tonight and really didn’t want to hear it again.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Teacher Qin. I just hope you won’t avoid seeking help when you need it. If anything’s bothering you, please tell me right away.”

“I know the pressure in our industry is immense… When I first started, I cried myself to sleep every night from all the criticism. People said all sorts of things.”

Sheng Mingluo assumed Qin Zhi was like her—a veteran actress who had endured too much unfounded criticism and fabricated scandals, leading to some psychological issues.

Major illnesses need treatment, and minor ones shouldn’t be ignored either.

“You must be exhausted today. Let’s go to bed.”

Yawning, Sheng Mingluo lay back on the bed and patted the space beside her, signaling Qin Zhi to join her.

They had filming early tomorrow morning.

The Director had arranged for Sheng Mingluo to familiarize herself with horseback riding first. The horse was a seasoned member of the film crew, known for its gentle temperament, though its imposing size and majestic appearance could be intimidating at first glance.

Sheng Mingluo stood nervously beside the horse, tossing it pieces of licorice root one by one. The horse snorted, its massive jaws grinding rhythmically as its tongue curled the dried herbs into its mouth.

A crew member was saddling the horse.

Meanwhile, Qin Zhi sat effortlessly astride a fiery red-maned steed, already changed into her costume. Her slender hands gripped the leather reins tightly, veins tracing a delicate path across her pale skin.

The wind stirred the dark hair at her temples. Qin Zhi glanced at the still-hesitant Sheng Mingluo, smiled faintly, and urged her horse into a gallop, circling the grassy field several times.

It wasn’t yet time to film the riding scenes; the crew had simply brought the horses out early to allow the two actresses to familiarize themselves with the animals.

The horses were kept in nearby paddocks.

This horse was rather tall for Sheng Mingluo. She had ridden before, but the horses used in previous productions had been much smaller, which meant full-body shots were rarely used. This big-budget film was different. Sheng Mingluo gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and prepared to mount.

I need to get used to this. I can’t show any fear in front of everyone!

“Let me hold the reins for you,” Qin Zhi offered.

Qin Zhi spurred her horse forward, pulling up beside Sheng Mingluo. The setting sun hung low in the sky, painting the mountains and fields with a fiery orange glow. The scene was breathtaking. Sheng Mingluo’s eyes sparkled, her red robes billowed, and she dismounted with a graceful leap.

The staff tactfully retreated, handing the reins to Qin Zhi. Qin Zhi led the horse forward, her black boots sinking into the grass.

As the dry grass crunched underfoot, Sheng Mingluo still watched Qin Zhi anxiously, her grip on the saddle so tight that red marks pressed into her palms.

“Relax,” Qin Zhi said gently. “Take it easy. I’ll guide you around a few times to get you comfortable, then I’ll hand the reins over to you.”

No longer wearing her usual cold expression, Qin Zhi moved with effortless grace, every gesture radiating confidence. Sheng Mingluo swallowed nervously, knowing Qin Zhi’s sudden kindness stemmed from guilt and remorse.

“But… I’m still a little scared.”

A strand of hair blew across Sheng Mingluo’s cheek as she lowered her gaze, watching Qin Zhi in her crimson robes lead the horse forward. She hoped Qin Zhi wouldn’t let go too soon.

Hearing her soft plea, Qin Zhi, daughter of the Swordforging Manor’s leader and a martial artist, rode a sturdy, tall horse—one of the most imposing steeds in the stable.

For someone who rarely rode, overcoming that initial fear was a real challenge.

“Take this.”

Qin Zhi halted and handed Sheng Mingluo the leather reins.

Damn it, did I sound too timid? Sheng Mingluo bit her lip, her trembling hand reaching for the reins. Dressed in a white disciple’s robe with patterned sleeves and black wrist guards, she looked every bit the powerful female warrior from a wuxia novel. Yet her current actions were remarkably delicate.

Her fingers barely brushed the reins when Sheng Mingluo swallowed hard, preparing to face this alone.

But then Qin Zhi’s black boots stepped into the stirrups, and she leaped onto the saddle, riding side-by-side with Sheng Mingluo. Her long arm wrapped firmly around Sheng Mingluo’s waist, holding her securely.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll teach you.”

Guilt gnawed at Qin Zhi’s heart. Her sudden illness had harmed those around her, including the innocent Sheng Mingluo.

As a result, she paid even closer attention to Sheng Mingluo than before.

Feeling the supportive pressure on her waist, Sheng Mingluo finally exhaled deeply, daring to look around.

Ahead lay a magnificent sunset. Qin Zhi pressed close, her hand enveloping Sheng Mingluo’s as she taught her how to hold the reins.

“Don’t panic. I’m right behind you. Try taking hold of the reins.”

Qin Zhi’s fingertips gently tapped the back of Sheng Mingluo’s hand. Gathering her courage, Sheng Mingluo gripped the reins as instructed, but Qin Zhi didn’t release her hand, maintaining her hold.

After a few laps, Qin Zhi slowly loosened her grip. Sheng Mingluo was now able to control the horse’s speed. Fortunately, her previous experience came in handy, allowing her to overcome her fear and put her skills to use.

“Thank you, Teacher Qin. You’re truly amazing—you know how to do everything… and your acting is so good too!”

As Sheng Mingluo sincerely marveled, she couldn’t resist adding a few compliments. Having navigated the entertainment industry for so long, she was well-accustomed to such flattery.

Not that I’m used to it or anything—it just slipped out.

Of course, there was a kernel of sincerity in her words. This person had been so fierce with her yesterday, yet today they were being so gentle.

“Miss Sheng, didn’t you tell me yesterday not to avoid seeking medical help? That if I’m sick, I should get treatment?”

Leaning close to her ear, the voice was so soft it almost blended with the rustling wind. Yet the warm breath against her ear sent a shiver of tingling numbness through Sheng Mingluo.

Damn it… what is this woman doing behind me? Yesterday’s incident is over—why bring it up again today?

“I… I… that, I meant what I said!”

Still unwilling to back down, Sheng Mingluo felt compelled to defend herself.

“And I mean what I said just now too!”