Chapter 15: The Eternal Sucker

Nan Xiao turned her head.

Coming toward her was Xie Chengyu.

He wore a custom-tailored black shirt and trousers, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, long legs stretching out with effortless grace—his physique could make even the world’s top male models feel inadequate.

And then there was his face—so strikingly handsome it could easily overshadow any leading man in Hollywood.

The moment he stepped onto the set, dozens of young girls had lit up like fireworks, staring at him with starry eyes before bursting into squeals.

Even the seasoned actors—who usually stood head and shoulders above ordinary people—now seemed dull and washed out beside him.

Nan Xiao watched him, and for a fleeting second, she thought: *Back in senior year, when I first saw Xie Chengyu… I must’ve been blinded by his looks too.*

But then she remembered what he’d just said—and her heart twisted like a needle pricked deep inside.

“Miss Xu isn’t suitable,” Nan Xiao said directly, voice sharp. “Her image doesn’t match Qianran’s.”

“Image can be changed,” Xie Chengyu replied, tone unyielding. “And the entire production leadership team has already approved it.”

*The entire leadership team.*
Translation: She, a mere scriptwriter, didn’t get a say.

Nan Xiao bit down hard on her lip. Her chest clenched tight, pain coiling through her like a fist.

Look at him—how fiercely protective of Xu Ruoxin.
Because she wanted this role? He, who’d never dipped a toe into film or TV before, had actually invested in this project.
He was willing to go far for her.

“This is settled,” Xie Chengyu said. “No changes.”

That sentence made Ruoxin’s lips curl upward, just slightly.

Nan Xiao wore a mask—no one could see her expression—but her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her eyes burned with fury. Anyone watching could tell she was furious.

Ruoxin stepped forward, voice soft and sultry. “Chengyu, don’t fight with Nan over me.”

“I really love the role of Qianran. But Nan is the show’s writer—of course she might not be happy with me. I understand.”

She turned to Nan Xiao, sincerity dripping from her tone. “Nan, I truly want to do this. I’ll give it my all. Please don’t be angry.”

Zhou Ruicheng stared at the three of them, utterly confused. Something was off. Was he missing something?

He knew nothing about Nan Xiao and Xie Chengyu being married—hell, he didn’t even know they were acquainted. He assumed she was just objecting to the investor stuffing an unwanted role into the cast, a classic case of favoritism.

Trying to smooth things over, he said, “Alright, let’s just leave it. Ruoxin’s a veteran actress—she’ll handle it fine…”

Nan Xiao closed her eyes. What could she say?

The investor. The director. Everyone was on Ruoxin’s side. There was no way she could change anything.

“Come here a second,” Xie Chengyu said, glancing at her, then walking toward the corridor. Nan Xiao followed.

Once outside, he spoke quietly. “Ruoxin will do well in this role. Don’t worry.”

Would she?

She had solid acting skills—she wouldn’t ruin the show.
But even if she failed, Xie Chengyu wouldn’t care.

To him, the real issue wasn’t performance. It was that Ruoxin *wanted* this role. And so, he’d bend every rule to make it happen. That was all.

Nan Xiao understood all of this.
Yet her lips went pale, trembling almost imperceptibly.

She stood silently by the window, staring out at the city lights. After a long silence, she turned to him.

“Fine.”

Let it be. If Xie Chengyu was determined to push Ruoxin through, what good would resistance do? You can’t fight a mountain with your arms.

She turned and walked away.

Xie Chengyu watched her retreating back. His gaze darkened.

Something felt… off. Was it just his imagination?

And her silhouette—so small, so alone—tugged at something deep inside him. Why did his chest suddenly ache?

Back on set, Nan Xiao remained quiet, her mood heavy. But work still needed doing. She lowered her head, flipping through the script.

Then, from above, came a voice—mocking, cutting.

“Didn’t listen to anyone back then, insisted on marrying him. Then after marriage, you practically groveled at his feet. Now look—he’s defending the other woman right in front of you. Is *this* what you wanted?”

“…”

Nan Xiao looked up, stunned.

The man standing in the doorway was nearly six feet tall, dressed in a limited-edition casual suit, short black hair neatly styled. His presence carried the calm confidence of a mature man, yet with a lazy charm that could melt hearts.

Leaning casually against the doorframe, he smirked at her. “What? Can’t think of a reply?”

“No,” Nan Xiao said flatly. “Xiao Zekai, can you please stop acting like a child?”

“How am I acting childish?” His cool demeanor cracked, frustration creeping in. “Did I say something wrong?”

“So what if you’re right? So what if you’re wrong? Either way—it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“You—have nothing to do with me?”

“Yes! Yes! It’s got nothing to do with me!”

“You keep going like this, you’ll just keep getting pushed around. You’ll spend your whole life as the doormat!”