Chapter 13: Half the Spotlight

Leave after Grandma Xie leaves?

Nan Xiao didn’t quite catch it at first—she froze, stunned.

Then it clicked. In northern urban folklore, a person couldn’t enter reincarnation until forty-nine days after death—the seven sevens. That was nearly two months. No wonder Old Man Xie had said that.

Nan Xiao glanced over at Xie Chengyu. He looked back at her, and she quickly said, “I’m fine with it.”

Seeing she had no objections, Xie Chengyu gave a quiet nod. “Alright.”

Old Man Xie nodded in approval. “So for now, you two stay in the ancestral home. Keep Grandma company.”

Nan Xiao hesitated silently. She wanted to say that Grandma Xie didn’t like her at all—staying might just make her angry. But then again, the woman was already dead. No point stirring up trouble. Besides, she’d be joining the production team soon anyway—she wouldn’t be around much. So she just nodded.

As for Xie Chengyu? He was a man buried in work, spending over ten hours a day at the office. His home and a hotel were practically interchangeable. He simply said, “Fine.”

After they left the study, Zhang Aunty leaned in close and whispered, “Master, are you really letting them split?”

Old Man Xie’s eyes flashed with sharp calculation. “Split? Not a chance.”

This was just a delaying tactic.

Three years without returning home—no emotional bond between them was normal. But next month, they’d be living under the same roof, sharing every meal, every moment. He wasn’t going to fail at building something real.

“Sir, Madam,” a maid asked politely as they stepped out of the study. It was past five. “Would you like dinner?”

Nan Xiao rubbed her stomach. She *was* hungry. Then suddenly, Xie Chengyu spoke—directly to her: “I want pigeon soup.”

Nan Xiao blinked. “Uh… okay. I’ll make it.”

She didn’t know why he suddenly wanted her pigeon soup. Was it because it tasted good? She didn’t ask. Just walked into the kitchen, pulled out ingredients and spices, lit the stove, and got to work.

They were still married. She had a duty to cook for him. Not because of anything else. She repeated it in her head like a mantra.

Xie Chengyu stood in the doorway, watching her back as she stirred the pot. For a moment, he was lost in thought.

For three years, he’d occasionally imagined what she looked like.

Nan Xiao—his legal wife. A woman who could make over a dozen delicious soups. Who baked all kinds of pastries. Her cooking was exceptional.

She never interrupted him. When she brought meals, she’d leave the food tray on his secretary’s desk, send a quick text, then quietly slip away.

She must be gentle. Maybe even shy.

Zhou Wen had told him she wasn’t a full-time housewife—she was a screenwriter.

Three years ago, after graduating college, Nan Xiao had married him.

Then she stayed home, writing scripts. She’d produced several hits, created a few iconic characters. Clearly talented. And kind-hearted too.

So even though he’d never come home, Xie Chengyu had a vague sense of who she was. Just… not quite clear in his mind.

Soon, the soup was ready. Nan Xiao ladled it into a bowl. Then a long, elegant hand reached out from beside her. “Let me take it.”

She paused, handed it over. “Okay.”

She only made one bowl. The second went into a lunchbox—she’d drink it later. Xie Chengyu noticed, about to ask why she wasn’t eating with him—then stopped when he saw the mask covering her face.

Nan Xiao left the kitchen, planning to go upstairs and rest. Just then, her phone rang.

“Xiao Xiao,” Zhou Ruicheng said. “Next week’s shoot starts. I’ve picked a new lead actress—Feng Xue’er. What do you think?”

Feng Xue’er? A veteran actress with years of experience. Good looks, solid acting chops. Nan Xiao said, “She’s fine.”

“Great.” Zhou Ruicheng continued. “The male lead’s locked in too—Xiao Zekai.”

Xiao Zekai had debuted in the entertainment world three years ago. Charming looks, explosive talent, great personality. He was one of the biggest stars in the industry—dominating both popularity and ratings.

Getting him was no small feat. So Zhou Ruicheng didn’t ask for input—he just informed her.

But then silence.

“Xiao Xiao?” Zhou Ruicheng frowned. “You’re not saying anything? We landed Xiao Zekai! Aren’t you excited? Happy? Overjoyed?”

“…Yeah. I’m happy.”

“Haha! I knew you’d be thrilled! You were speechless, weren’t you?”

“Xiao Zekai just won Best Actor. Rumor has it he’s stepping back from TV dramas to focus on films. Getting him for our show? That’s huge…”

Zhou Ruicheng was a talker. Nan Xiao listened for a while before finally hanging up.

She walked slowly to the window, staring out into the fading light, lost in thought.