09. Crescendo

Chen Shuoyin tossed and turned in bed until dawn, her eyes swollen and darkened from lack of sleep. Despite this, she stubbornly got up.

While putting on her clothes, she accidentally touched her waist, and the sensation from Pei Yu holding her last night crept back like vines. The tingling on her skin from metabolism and cellular activity made it impossible for her to pinpoint the discomfort.

She ruffled her hair in frustration and reminded herself:

Today is a workday. No matter how unclear things are, she still had to go to work.

Pei Yu had a shoot in the morning. He left her a sticky note and a lavish breakfast on the dining table before disappearing.

Chen Shuoyin had been worried he would sneak into her room at night, so she locked the door.

But since she hadn’t heard him knocking all night, her tense nerves finally relaxed.

She picked up the sticky note, reading the thoughtful message he left. Beside it was a fully charged power bank. She pursed her lips.

“Didn’t he say before that leaving notes like this was unnecessary?”

On the way to the TV station, she skimmed through her phone and computer, reviewing messages—mostly work-related. Over the years, her habits hadn’t changed. A touch of OCD made her list out her daily schedule meticulously, making it easy to locate anything she needed.

She searched for news about the fire at the Sishui River three years ago. A fire of that magnitude should have left a record in the news. However, the data showed that in the past three years, there had been no major fires in Tanzhu City. Only small fires with no casualties—one of the cities with the lowest fire incident rates in the province.

Why…?

Even more surprising, she couldn’t find any traces of her relationship with Pei Yu.

If they had made it to marriage, they must have had a steady relationship, right?

But the cold electronic records suggested otherwise—she was a career-driven woman, wholly devoted to her work.

Two years ago, she had been transferred to another city for training and had only returned to Tanzhu City in the third year.

The only traceable chat records between them stopped a few days ago. Above that, it was either completely blank or she had deleted the messages herself. Otherwise, they barely talked at all.

Even more shocking—she was the one who insisted Pei Yu call her “wife.”

Py: [Yinyin, I have a last-minute interview. I’ll be home late.]

Music Notes Dancing on Trees: [Husband, we’re already married. Why aren’t you calling me ‘wife’?]

Py: [Alright, wife.]

Music Notes Dancing on Trees: [Mhm! You have to keep calling me that from now on!]

Py: [Okay.]

…

The rest of the conversation was just her clinging to Pei Yu, flirting back and forth.

Chen Shuoyin rubbed her arms, tortured by these chat records.

How could she have said things like this to Pei Yu?

Sometimes, people can’t even empathize with their own past selves. She wanted to slap herself.

But an urgent work situation didn’t allow her to dwell on it.

The moment she clocked in, Liu Yiran rushed over, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her to the corridor behind the break room. After making sure no one was around, she lowered her voice and asked, “Do you remember the woman who took over your job when you first transferred back to Tanzhu?”

Chen Shuoyin blinked blankly and shook her head.

“Zhu Fangning—Zhu Xi’s younger sister,” Liu Yiran clicked her tongue, eager to remind her.

Zhu Xi’s name wasn’t unfamiliar to Chen Shuoyin. She was Pei Yu’s first co-star after his return. They were a perfect match both on and off-screen, and their CP (couple pairing) had trended countless times, gaining immense popularity and even leading to additional mini-dramas.

Something clicked in Chen Shuoyin’s mind, and she exchanged a shocked glance with Liu Yiran.

Back then, amidst the chaos of the fire, she had been entirely focused on finding Pei Yu’s whereabouts, completely forgetting about Zhu Xi.

“You remember now, don’t you?” Liu Yiran excitedly hugged her.

However, since Pei Yu was adamant that there had been no fire, Zhu Xi probably wouldn’t have any useful information either. Chen Shuoyin snapped back to reality. “No.”

Liu Yiran deflated like a punctured balloon. “Then we’re doomed. How are you going to compete with her now?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you transferred to another city, Zhu Fangning temporarily replaced you. She originally studied at a drama academy and wanted to follow in her sister’s footsteps as an actress. But something happened—she had a fallout with her agency and had to pay a hefty fee to terminate her contract. She was sent here to lay low.”

Liu Yiran sighed. “At first, we thought she’d leave once she found a new company. But she stayed until you returned, and only reluctantly gave up her position.”

“And now, out of nowhere, she showed up at the station today. I arrived early and overheard the chief editor saying something like, ‘What belongs to her will always be hers.’”

Chen Shuoyin understood the implications, but she remained calm. “It’s simple. She takes her path, and I take mine.”

Her voice was steady, unaffected by the so-called threat.

Liu Yiran sighed heavily. “Babe, if a hunter sets their sights on you, the gun doesn’t hesitate. I heard a new chief editor is coming in soon. The current one feels threatened and is using his last chance to make changes. The evaluation is at the end of June, and now with Zhu Fangning back, she’s another competitor for you.”

Chen Shuoyin understood what she was implying. She remained composed. “If someone tries to steal what’s mine, I won’t let them.”

She had never feared behind-the-scenes manipulation. If she didn’t want to be played, she had to be the best. She had entered this industry with confidence and determination—she wouldn’t let a few words shake her resolve.

“Don’t worry about me.” Chen Shuoyin tugged Liu Yiran back. Then, in a lower voice, she asked, “Can you tell me what you know about me and Pei Yu?”

Liu Yiran was stunned. “You have the nerve to ask me? Last Thursday night, you messaged me in the middle of the night saying you two got married! I thought you were joking.

“You always said you despised him. Even at a gathering last month, you looked furious when someone mentioned his name. I was so scared to even bring him up around you! Then, not even half a month later, you suddenly married him?”

“Married?” Chen Shuoyin’s vision swayed, and she grabbed the wall for support. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Liu Yiran raised her hands innocently. “Do you think I wouldn’t have if I could?”

Then, squinting at her suspiciously, she added, “Wait, but when you told me, you two were all lovey-dovey. Why would I stop you?”

Chen Shuoyin forced a laugh. “I had some drinks that night and forgot some details. Just confirming.”

Liu Yiran narrowed her eyes. “You’re regretting it now, aren’t you?”

She sighed. “I mean, you hated him. Back then, when he asked the chief editor to give you an opportunity just so you’d have to chase after him, you were furious.

“But when you announced your marriage, you said, ‘We’re truly in love~’”

“I almost called the police, thinking he’d bewitched you.”

She gave a serious warning, “Pei Yu is a hotshot now. His new drama with Zhu Xi already made the trending charts. If they fall in love on set, what will you do?”

Chen Shuoyin smirked. “Who says Zhu Xi even likes him?”

She didn’t continue the topic and dragged Liu Yiran back to work.

That evening, after work, she hesitated for a long time before finally calling a familiar number.

When the voice on the other end said, “Hello,” in a strong, healthy tone—

Her nose tingled.

She whispered, “Grandma.”