Chapter 6: A Man’s Tears Tracing Down Her Skin

Even though Lu Hui had adopted a salted-fish attitude toward life, she still had to work.

Lin Tong took her to a variety show recording. Including her, there were six guests in total. Aside from her, the others were all top-tier celebrities enjoying their peak popularity.

Lu Hui didn’t take the initiative to greet anyone. She had experienced enough of the awkwardness of extending a hand only to be ignored.

In a place like this, where fame and fortune ruled, the big shots naturally wouldn’t have time for a minor figure like her.

Lin Tong, ever the social butterfly, went around trying to mingle. Unfortunately, no one seemed interested in acknowledging him. They pretended not to hear him, not to see him.

Annoyed, Lin Tong stormed back to Lu Hui. “Damn, these snobs!”

It was as if he had gone out of his way to humiliate himself.

Lu Hui patted his back soothingly. “Don’t be mad, don’t be mad. Getting sick from anger won’t get you anywhere.”

She sipped her hot water calmly and reasoned, “I’m not popular. It’s only natural they don’t want to acknowledge you.”

Besides, the way those people were looking at her was offensive.

The news about her was still fresh, and there were plenty of busybodies eager to pry. Watching a joke unfold from behind the scenes wasn’t nearly as satisfying as seeing it happen live.

But she didn’t look as haggard as they had imagined. Lu Hui didn’t seem to think she had experienced anything shameful at all—she appeared utterly composed.

At 12:30 PM, they did a full run-through before the official recording.

Lu Hui barely had any opportunities to speak. The hosts mainly focused on the main guest of the episode. Aside from a brief self-introduction at the beginning, she was barely included.

The official recording was a live broadcast, meaning no room for mistakes.

Sitting through two hours of doing nothing didn’t bother Lu Hui—she just felt sleepy. A guest with backstage connections had been chatting endlessly for almost an hour, and she could tell the audience was just as bored as she was.

The producers likely sensed the audience’s exhaustion and sent a large cue card to the host, urging them to speed things up.

“Alright! Let’s move on to our next segment—an audience-favorite, ‘Classic Reenactment’!” The host smoothly transitioned.

Lu Hui shook off her drowsiness and stifled a yawn—only for the camera to catch her at that exact moment.

The live chat instantly switched from gushing over their favorite idols to outright insults.

“Did she just roll her eyes?”
“Looks like it.”
“So rude!”
“Why did the show even invite someone like her? She doesn’t deserve to be on the same stage as our queen!”

The insults flooded in, but thankfully, the director quickly cut away.

Lu Hui was paired with a newly popular young actress to reenact a famous scene from a hit palace drama.

The young actress seemed harmless enough. “Were you sleepy just now? You looked like you were about to doze off.”

It sounded like she was trying to lighten the mood, but in reality, she was just using Lu Hui’s minor mistake to boost her own image.

Lu Hui nodded earnestly. “Yeah, I was getting pretty sleepy.”

The young actress was momentarily speechless.

The host was also visibly awkward.

But the audience in the studio completely understood her. The last segment had focused entirely on a random guest nobody knew, and they had been droning on and on—it really had been painfully boring.

Lu Hui had just said what everyone else was thinking, unintentionally clearing up the misunderstanding about her supposed eye-roll.

Online opinions shifted as quickly as they had formed.

“Honestly, I almost fell asleep too.”
“Finally, a guest who doesn’t force an awkward smile. The show should just accept that their games are outdated and unfunny.”
“Drop your phone number.”
“Drop your ID number.”
“She’s kinda straightforward.”
“Not bad.”

Lu Hui hadn’t cared what the audience thought before she spoke.

She was just a dried-up old salted fish, going with the flow, living to eat and sleep.

If there was work, she did it. If there wasn’t, she slept.

She had no interest in currying favor with anyone.

When it was her turn for the classic reenactment game, the host called her and the young actress on stage.

As soon as the background music started, Lu Hui was instantly in character. She became the noble consort from the palace drama, devastated upon learning the truth, her eyes welling up with tears that spilled down her cheeks.

Her lowered gaze was heavy with sorrow, her eyes brimming with unspoken grief, like poetry brought to life.

The young actress performing with her paled in comparison.

Even though she had played leading roles before, she was completely overshadowed by Lu Hui’s performance. It was humiliating. When the scene ended, she looked visibly upset, barely holding back her frustration.

The live audience, more than anyone, was blown away.

What the hell?! Was she actually a naturally gifted actress?

She wasn’t the talentless hack everyone had made her out to be.

By the time the live show ended, Lu Hui’s Weibo following had unexpectedly increased instead of dropping.

Lin Tong, still jittery, poked her forehead. “You were way too blunt today! Do you have any idea how scared I was?!”

“How could you just say you were sleepy? You were on a live show, little sis!”

Lu Hui frowned. “But I really was sleepy. And the audience was even sleepier than I was.”

She had never seen such a dull show before. How had the network not canceled it yet? It was baffling.

Lin Tong was speechless.

Because, honestly? He had been nodding off too.

That said, Lu Hui’s acting had been impressive today—even the cameraman next to him had been staring, dumbfounded. Lin Tong was very satisfied with that.

“Are you taking a cab home, or should I drive you?”

“You drive me.”

“Alright.”

Lu Hui immediately dozed off in the car. When she woke up and looked out the window, they were nearing the Sheng family estate.

“I forgot to ask—why did you move back to the Sheng family?”

Lu Hui answered seriously, “They begged me, so I reluctantly gave them face.”

—

Xie Ran personally went to the Sheng estate, but Lu Hui wasn’t there.

Xu Qin had heard from her husband just how important this “Mr. Xie” was, so she didn’t put on her usual wealthy-madam airs and was instead unusually polite.

Xie Ran rubbed his temples. He had no interest in small talk and got straight to the point. “Where is Lu Hui?”

Seeing his grim expression, Xu Qin assumed he had come to settle accounts. Internally, she cursed Lu Hui out.

If she couldn’t do anything right, fine—but did she have to keep causing trouble?

Xu Qin masked her displeasure and said, “Mr. Xie, I’ve heard a bit about my daughter’s reckless actions. I’d like to apologize on her behalf. She’s young and naïve—”

Xie Ran cut her off. “When will she be back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I’ll wait for her here.”

“That’s fine. I’ll have her apologize to you personally.”

Xu Qin stepped onto the balcony and called Lu Hui, her tone immediately sharp. “Are you incapable of not causing trouble for once? Do you know how hard it was for me to marry into the Sheng family? Do you want me thrown out because of you?”

Lu Hui: “…”

She got scolded for no reason? Without hesitation, she hung up.

When she arrived home and saw the man sitting in the living room, she paused.

Xu Qin forced a smile and pulled Lu Hui toward him. “Huihui, you’re finally home. Hurry and apologize to Mr. Xie.”

Before Lu Hui could make sense of the situation, the man suddenly stood up.

In the silence, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. His voice was fragile, trembling. “Huihui, do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”

Xie Ran’s body was shaking, his voice quivering. The memory of those dark days spent searching for her overwhelmed him, and he lost control of his emotions.

That voice, that tone—

It was that damn male lead.

Lu Hui was dumbfounded.

Before she could say a word, she felt his tears trailing down her skin, warm against her jawline.

She was shocked.

Truly shocked.