Transmigrating into the Rival's Fanfiction - Chapter 29

The flight was long.

Qin Zhi leaned against the window, feeling drowsy. She rubbed her temples, puzzled by the recurring nature of her illness. Taking advantage of her business trip, she had obtained extra medication from her doctor.

I hope this works, she thought. Not only was she losing control over her actions, but she was also gradually beginning to see Sheng Mingluo as her personal possession.

This isn’t a good start.

Qin Zhi’s pale, slender fingers pressed against her forehead, her brows furrowing slightly as she rested her head against her fingertips.

Both her doctor and her mother had warned her. The doctor cautioned her against pursuing romantic relationships, both physically and emotionally.

Humans aren’t dolls, she thought. Dolls are filled with cotton; you can empty them and refill them. But humans have hearts—once broken, they’re hard to heal.

They hurt each other.

Her mother had told her, “If A-Zhi likes someone, just take them. But if you break them, don’t feel sorry for yourself. Don’t cry.”

Forget it. This is just a game, Qin Zhi thought. Once we’re back in the real world, I’ll cut ties with her immediately and never see Sheng Mingluo again.

Qin Zhi casually brushed aside a strand of black hair with her fingertip, resolving to stop dwelling on these troublesome thoughts. The immediate priority was for both of them to work together to return to the real world.

There had been times like this before. She had broken countless dolls, but they could always be repaired with a little money.

People were the same. With enough money, they could be fixed too.

The women surrounding her sister were the best proof of this—each taking what they needed.

Treat this like a play, Qin Zhi told herself. It’s just a movie. Once the scene is over, I can immediately step out of character and detach myself completely.

For the past few days, Sheng Mingluo had been eating in the cafeteria under Luo Hu’s intense gaze. She could clearly sense his desire to strike up a conversation, but she always managed to evade him with some excuse.

Their romantic rumors had only just been cleared up. What would it look like if they were photographed together again?

Even a simple meal couldn’t be enjoyed in peace. Sheng Mingluo sighed at her fate as a professional supporting actress.

Picking at the rice and vegetables in her lunchbox, she was pretending not to notice Luo Hu’s gaze when her young assistant, Xu Yun, rushed in, breathless.

“Sister Mingluo, Teacher Qin is back!” Xu Yun gasped, having clearly run all the way. “She wants to see you. She asked you to come.”

Qin Zhi was back?

Sheng Mingluo froze for a moment, then realized it was about time. She’d been so isolated on this mountain, she’d almost turned into a mountain hermit, losing track of the days.

Following Xu Yun outside, they found the mountain villa eerily quiet. Most of the staff were still in the cafeteria, eating their meals.

After walking for only a few minutes, Sheng Mingluo spotted Qin Zhi chatting with Director Zhao. A faint weariness lingered between Qin Zhi’s brows, and dark circles under her eyes betrayed a lack of proper rest.

“Xiao Sheng’s here. I won’t interrupt your reunion,” Director Zhao said, assuming Sheng Mingluo had come to personally greet Qin Zhi. He tactfully stepped back, giving the two women space.

Sheng Mingluo was about to protest, saying it wasn’t necessary.

Truth be told, she had missed Qin Zhi during their separation. Qin Zhi’s naturally low body temperature made her feel cool and refreshing to the touch in the summer, and cuddling with her at night was incredibly comforting.

Now that she was alone in the dormitory, the place felt particularly lonely.

Sometimes, Sheng Mingluo would find herself daydreaming, wishing Qin Zhi were there to rehearse lines with her or simply to have someone to talk to in bed.

“Long time no see… Teacher Qin,” Sheng Mingluo stammered, her usually articulate tongue faltering. She blinked twice, her voice barely a whisper, but Qin Zhi still heard her.

Qin Zhi pulled out the gift she had promised to buy for Sheng Mingluo, which she had been hiding behind her back.

“I brought this for you,” she said. “Do you still like it?”

Qin Zhi leaned down, gazing into Sheng Mingluo’s amber-colored eyes, which seemed to shimmer with a radiant glow.

“Thank you, Teacher Qin. I really like it.”

“Teacher Qin, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”

Despite her joy, Sheng Mingluo maintained her composure, adhering to proper etiquette—friendly but not intimate. Qin Zhi frowned slightly, disliking this formality, but ultimately said nothing.

After all, what right did she have to criticize Sheng Mingluo?

Sheng Mingluo’s caution stemmed entirely from her lack of connections in the industry. A single misstep could jeopardize her entire career, forcing her to tread carefully.

Even though their relationship was currently a superficial arrangement, who could predict what the future held? Who could guarantee how things would turn out?

No one could offer absolute certainty.

After all, they were real people, not characters in a Mary Sue fanfiction.

“Teacher Qin, have you eaten? If not, you should go eat now. We might have to rush into filming soon.”

Sheng Mingluo asked with concern, carrying the bag. She hadn’t finished her own meal and was feeling a bit hungry.

Filming martial arts films was physically demanding; without proper nourishment, she couldn’t possibly endure the day.

“Alright, take me there.”

Qin Zhi watched Sheng Mingluo’s retreating figure, suddenly seized by an inexplicable urge to embrace her. After just a few days apart, Sheng Mingluo seemed noticeably thinner and more worn.

Seeing Qin Zhi return, Luo Hu’s gaze immediately avoided their table. He seemed deliberately distracting himself by flirting with his female assistant.

“Teacher Qin, sit here. I’ll get your food for you,” Sheng Mingluo said.

After spending the past few days together, Sheng Mingluo knew Qin Zhi’s preferences well: she liked her food on the saltier side and could tolerate spice, though not in large quantities.

With practiced ease, Sheng Mingluo scooped several spoonfuls of her favorite dishes onto a plate and slid it across the table to Qin Zhi.

“You’re making me feel a little embarrassed,” Qin Zhi said, accepting the spoon. Her fingertips brushed against Sheng Mingluo’s hand on the handle. Qin Zhi’s lips curved into a smile as she gazed at Sheng Mingluo with her clear, autumn-like eyes.

Though teasing, Sheng Mingluo couldn’t help but find Qin Zhi breathtakingly beautiful. Usually reserved, Qin Zhi’s rare smiles were truly captivating.

“What’s there to be embarrassed about? Teacher Qin has helped me so much; getting your food is nothing.”

“Stop smiling like that and hurry up and eat.”

Leaning across the table, Sheng Mingluo gently patted Qin Zhi’s arm, her cheeks flushed with shyness. Qin Zhi found her teasing amusing.

Their relationship was like this: sometimes close, sometimes distant, always just out of reach.

Normally, Qin Zhi would never have been able to finish such a large meal. But today, for some reason, the food tasted particularly delicious, and she ate every last bite.

Perhaps she had been too hungry on the plane; the in-flight meals weren’t very good. Or maybe the cafeteria was just having an exceptionally good day.

Seeing Qin Zhi eating so heartily, her cheeks puffed out, Sheng Mingluo’s appetite was piqued, and she joined her.

As Sheng Mingluo ate, she thought, Maybe the outside world just has too many prejudices about Teacher Qin’s illness. Isn’t she doing just fine like this?