Whoever Falls in Love First is the Dog - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: “I’m Not in a Good Mood Today. Indulge Me, Will You?”

Just as Shen Mengke had finally relaxed, her phone rang. It was a call from Fan Shi.

Her brow twitched instinctively—something must have happened.

“Fan-jie?”

“Hope I’m not disturbing you?” Fan Shi asked first. She knew Shen Mengke was attending a banquet tonight, the kind of event where even the smallest mistake could be costly.

“No, is something wrong?”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Fan Shi sighed. “The director just told me that there’s a major problem with the script. Asking the Heart is being shut down. Director Qing is already handling the contract termination with the company.”

In an instant, Shen Mengke felt like the entire world had gone silent. Even the music downstairs seemed to disappear into bubbles.

Gripping her phone tightly, she stared out the window. The lights outside were still bright, but it felt like someone had smudged them all into a blur.

She couldn’t feel her heartbeat or her breath—her body frozen, her mind blank.

“Mengke? Mengke? Are you still there?”

It wasn’t until Fan Shi called her name several times that she snapped out of it.

“Ah… I’m here.”

“Director Qing said you were a shame to lose, but if you’re willing, she’ll recommend you to other directors.”

“Other directors…” Shen Mengke lowered her gaze. Her long lashes cast a shadow over her face, making her unreadable. After a moment, she said, “Let’s hold off on the termination for now. Fan-jie, can you help me set up a meeting with Director Qing? I want to see her.”

“I can do that, but the termination process is already finished. The boss personally ordered it.”

“So fast?”

Shen Mengke’s voice jumped in disbelief. That was impossible. Contracts of that scale don’t terminate that easily—she’d reviewed even the joke of a contract with Chen Yanxing seriously. With that much money involved, how could it be done so quickly?

“Why did they only tell me after it was finalized?”

Fan Shi paused, helpless. “Director Qing contacted me first. She wanted to ask your opinion, but then the boss intervened…”

“I didn’t say anything to her about this. I don’t know how she found out, but clearly, if she stepped in, the shutdown of Asking the Heart must be about more than just the script. It’s better for you to get out early before the public catches wind of it.”

“There’s no such thing as getting out clean. I—”

“Enough, Mengke. Trust me, I won’t lead you wrong.”

Fan Shi knew how stubborn Shen Mengke was. This woman feared nothing, always had to dig to the bottom of things. But with the boss refusing to talk and Director Qing keeping quiet, the smartest move now was to stay out of it, to protect herself.

Shen Mengke fell silent. She understood the logic, but she hadn’t had time to process it emotionally.

“Okay, I get it. Fan-jie, please help me contact Director Qing.”

“Don’t worry.”

After the call ended, Shen Mengke sat motionless in the lounge for a long time. Shows getting canceled mid-filming wasn’t unheard of in the entertainment industry, but full contract terminations like this were rare. The prep work before filming is enormous. The sunk cost alone makes sudden shutdowns unthinkable.

There were only three possible reasons a project already underway would be halted:

1. 1. A major actor had an incident.
      But she hadn’t heard anything like that. Even Xu Shinian, who’d taken a few days off, had been downstairs just now.

1. 1. The director’s team got into trouble.
      Even less likely. Director Qing’s team had worked together for years, from obscurity to fame. A script issue could be fixed—why cancel a fully approved, table-read-ready production?

1. 1. Funding issues.
      Also unlikely. Qing herself brought in investors, and Xu Shinian had secured several sponsors. Shen Mengke’s company had its own stake in it too.

The more she thought, the more her head hurt. She leaned back on the sofa, closed her eyes, letting the overhead light blur into her eyelids like a hazy halo.

It felt like she was playing a murder mystery without any clues. Trying to be Sherlock Holmes with nothing to go on.

But what really scared her wasn’t Director Qing or Asking the Heart—it was herself.

In the industry, Shen Mengke wasn’t considered young anymore. Many roles were starting to pass her by. She’d felt the change—fewer and fewer offers coming in.

Was she being forgotten before she ever had the chance to truly shine?

She opened her eyes and held her hand up in front of her. In her prime, and yet she couldn’t see her path forward.

Her phone rang again—it was Fan Shi.

“Fan-jie?”

“Two things: I’ve scheduled your meeting with Director Qing—day after tomorrow. Second… the boss signed you onto a variety show.”

“What? I thought we agreed—”

“Calm down. You turned down a lot of offers for Asking the Heart, and now your schedule’s wide open. Plus, Director Qing’s recommendation might not lead to an immediate role. You haven’t been in the public eye for almost a year—besides the occasional trending topic…”

Shen Mengke fell silent.

“You need visibility, Mengke. I know you want to be a serious actress, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do variety shows.”

“I know.”

Before Fan Shi could say more, Shen Mengke cut in. “What kind of variety show?”

“A dating show.”

Shen Mengke stood up in shock, forgetting her injured foot.

The moment her foot hit the floor, pain surged up her leg like a snapped nerve. She inhaled sharply and collapsed back onto the sofa.

“What happened?” Fan Shi asked, alarmed by the noise.

“Ah… nothing. Twisted my ankle.” Shen Mengke winced as she lifted her swollen foot onto the sofa. She touched it lightly before saying, “Didn’t you promise not to sign me up for these types of shows? I’m a lesbian—you want me to go on a dating show with men?”

“I told them that too. But the boss insisted.”

“Why?! Just the sight of men makes me nauseous.”

Fan Shi sighed. “It’s about the money. Just endure it. I’ll try to get the contract to allow you to leave halfway.”

“…Fine.”

Shen Mengke couldn’t even begin to describe how she felt that night. She stayed in the lounge all night, never showing her face at the banquet again.

She received three phone calls that evening. The last was from an unknown number, with just one sentence spoken. But Shen Mengke recognized the voice instantly.

Shu Yun. The actress who once dominated every major platform, won Best Actress at 17, and disappeared from the spotlight at 23 due to illness.

Shen Mengke’s heart pounded wildly as she replayed those words over and over:

“I’m coming back.”

…

The first to notice Shen Mengke was Du Junyi. As the banquet wound down, Du Junyi returned to the lounge and found her asleep on the sofa. After some thought, she called Chen Yanxing.

“Junyi-jie?”

“You forgot your little vixen, Taoist priest.”

She hung up after that. On the other end, Chen Yanxing blinked, realizing she was talking about Shen Mengke. For someone so serious in public, Du Junyi sure liked to joke behind closed doors.

“What happened?” Ren Zhou noticed her strange expression.

“She told me to go ‘catch a demon.’ You head back first.”

When Chen Yanxing arrived, Shen Mengke was still asleep.

She stood by the sofa, gazing down at her. The overhead light cast a long shadow over half of Shen Mengke’s face.

No wonder she hadn’t been seen all night—Chen had assumed she’d already left.

Just as she debated whether to wake her, Shen Mengke suddenly opened her eyes.

Their sudden eye contact startled Chen Yanxing enough to step back.

“You’re blocking my light,” Shen Mengke muttered with a frown.

Chen Yanxing chuckled. “Miss Shen, the banquet’s over. You planning to go back down?”

Shen Mengke sat up abruptly. “It’s over?!”

Chen nodded.

She sighed. She’d done absolutely nothing tonight, and it was already over?

Noticing her bare foot and the high heels set aside, Chen asked, “How did you get here?”

“Oh, a friend dropped me off. She left a car for me.”

“And you’re planning to drive back like this?”

Shen Mengke looked at her and suddenly laughed. “Even if my foot were fine, I wouldn’t drive back.”

“I don’t know how to drive~”

Her tone was playful, like a joke between friends. But before Chen Yanxing could respond, Shen Mengke suddenly hooked a finger at her. “Come here,” she said.

Chen hesitated but leaned down. As she did, Shen Mengke pulled her closer by the neck.

The moment their lips touched her cheek, Chen Yanxing froze. Her eyes widened.

She heard Shen Mengke whisper in her ear, “I’m not in a good mood today. Indulge me, will you?”

Her breath was warm against her skin, sending shivers down Chen’s spine. She noticed a tear stain at the corner of Shen Mengke’s eye.

She had cried.

“Okay.”

The word slipped out like breath—no thought, no hesitation.

Something inside Chen Yanxing trembled. She couldn’t tell whether agreeing now was the right decision.

When two people without emotional ties come together, what drives them can only be one thing: desire—endless desire.

That night’s banquet had left both of them in bad moods. Chen Yanxing carried Shen Mengke into the hotel again.

Her shoes were left behind at the venue. Barefoot, Shen Mengke was laid down on the bed.

Or rather—dropped. Though not rough, the gesture wasn’t exactly gentle either.

Sitting there, her body bounced slightly with the mattress. She didn’t move, just held onto Chen’s neck, pulling her close again.

Shen Mengke looked up into the overhead light—it blurred her vision. She couldn’t see clearly.

A hand cupped her cheek. A rough thumb brushed away a tear as Chen Yanxing asked, “Why are you crying? We haven’t even started yet.”

Shen Mengke gave a cold laugh, then suddenly bit her on the neck.

Tears trickled into her mouth, down to where she bit.

Chen Yanxing winced but didn’t push her away. Instead, she grabbed her waist, kneeled on the bed, and bit her shoulder in return.

Shen Mengke paused—then bit harder.

They gnawed at each other like animals venting their frustrations.

They were animals. No affection, no tenderness—just lust.

From biting to kissing to baring it all, the light above didn’t just blur Shen Mengke’s eyes—it blurred Chen Yanxing’s too.

Shen Mengke looked at her and suddenly said, laughing, “We really are animals, aren’t we…? Mm!”

Before she could finish, Chen kissed her again.

Only beasts ignore emotion. Only beasts ravage their partners without reason.

This was their second time. Unlike the accident of the first, this one was full of secrets.

Both women had them—so many they couldn’t even make love with sincerity.

Afterwards, Chen Yanxing asked, “Did it feel good?”

“It did,” Shen Mengke replied.

“Are you happy?”

“No.”