Chapter 16: Don't Take It Personally

……
Nan Xiao tightened her lips, turned away from him, and walked off without a word.

Xiao Zekai—still as childish as he’d been three years ago, still just as annoying.

Back then, though, she’d adored him. Really, truly adored him.

They’d known each other since they were both bare-assed toddlers, grown up side by side, inseparable friends.

But three years ago, when she’d decided to marry into the Xie family for a wedding rite, Xiao Zekai had exploded at her, screaming that she was throwing herself into a fire pit. She’d stood firm. He’d raged, then finally grudgingly agreed.

And then… she’d treated Xie Chengyu with quiet devotion—giving everything, asking for nothing in return. Each time, Xiao Zekai grew more furious, more contemptuous. They fought again and again, and he’d call her useless, worthless.

The final blow came after one massive argument. Their two-decade-long friendship sank like a ship in a storm. They hadn’t seen each other in three years.

A wave of regret washed over Nan Xiao. She’d actually cared deeply about Xiao Zekai. But now? It was over. Completely.

She pushed the thoughts aside, headed to the set to observe filming, jotting notes as she watched.

First scene: Xu Ruoxin’s solo performance. Her acting wasn’t bad—though her look didn’t quite match the character of Qintian. Still, passable.

Second scene: her scene with Xiao Zekai, playing the emperor.

As they shot the second scene, Xie Chengyu remained nearby, watching Xu Ruoxin intently, his patience unwavering. Nan Xiao heard whispers ripple through the crew:

“Why’s the investor still here? His eyes never leave Xu Ruoxin. What’s their deal?”

“Heh. Probably something like that. Look how tense he is around her.”

Her chest clenched. The way Xie Chengyu watched her—anyone could see it. That kind of care, that kind of urgency… it meant he *really* liked her.

She forced herself to focus. This was work. Not feelings. Not memories. Not heartbreak.

Keep it together.

Slowly, she slipped into the rhythm of the job—until disaster struck.

After completing a complex stunt, Xu Ruoxin went pale, swayed, and collapsed.

A gasp rippled through the crew. People lunged forward to catch her—then someone beat them to it.

Xie Chengyu.

He caught her mid-fall, cradling her in his arms, brow furrowed with worry. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Hundreds of eyes locked onto them. But Xie Chengyu didn’t seem to notice.

After a few seconds, Xu Ruoxin blinked open her eyes, regained her breath, and looked up at him—soft, dazed, eyes brimming with affection.

“A little dizzy… but I’m fine. Thanks for coming so fast.” She paused, then added, voice sweet as honey: “Thank you, *husband*.”

The word hit the air like a spark.

Instantly, a chorus of squeals erupted from the nearby girls.

“Oh my god! So they’re married? No wonder!”

“They’re really a couple? Their chemistry is *so* real. Xie Chengyu’s such a good husband. Xu Ruoxin’s so lucky.”

The chatter swelled.

Nan Xiao’s face drained of color. Her body trembled uncontrollably, as if she might collapse right there.

Xu Ruoxin called him *husband*. And Xie Chengyu didn’t correct her. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t deny it.

Everyone around believed it. They were already whispering, rooting for them, secretly shipping the two.

But—she was the *real* wife.

Three years of marriage. She’d never once called him *husband*.

And yet, Xu Ruoxin said it so casually, so naturally—like it was hers by right.

And Xie Chengyu? Not a single protest.

She couldn’t stay.

Just then, Zhou Ruicheng announced they’d pause filming—wait until the actor recovered.

Nan Xiao seized the moment. Turned on her heel and left.

Back in the dressing room, she waited for the stabbing pain in her chest to fade. Then she stood to go—only to run straight into Xiao Zekai.

They were maybe eight meters apart. But somehow, she saw it—the flicker of mockery in his eyes.

Her heart twisted again.

She didn’t want to hear him. Didn’t want to face him. Without thinking, she veered off down another corridor.

But this time, she ran into Xu Ruoxin instead.

Xu Ruoxin’s complexion had returned to normal. She was still in costume, holding up her dress as she stepped toward Nan Xiao, her gaze sharp, proud—almost triumphant.

That arrogance made Nan Xiao’s skin crawl. She tried to step around her.

But Xu Ruoxin blocked her path.

“Ms. Nan,” she said, voice smooth, calm, edged with confidence, “I made a mistake in front of the director earlier. I needed Chengyu to back me up—so I called him *husband* in public. Please don’t take it personally.”