Chapter 31: A Couple in a Secret Marriage

Xie Chengyu was the biggest investor in this drama. He had the final say—and everyone around him watched Nan Xiao with pity in their eyes. Xu Ruoxin’s lips curled into a smug smile.

Nan Xiao was numb. She nodded. “I’ll fix it right now. No need for three hours.”

She’d already figured out how to rewrite it yesterday. Not because she wanted to, but because she still couldn’t afford to piss off Xie Chengyu.

But then she remembered the brilliant idea of using a body double—she rushed out to find one. And yet… this was the outcome.

Nan Xiao muttered an apology to Zhouzhou, handed her some cab fare, and without so much as a glance at anyone, walked straight into the dressing room.

Xie Chengyu stared at her back—the thin frame, the way her shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of the world. Was she really that broken? Or was it just his imagination?

“Chengyu?”

Xu Ruoxin tugged at his sleeve. Why was he staring at Nan Xiao like that?

“What?” Xie Chengyu looked down.

Xu Ruoxin studied his expression. His eyes were blank—no emotion at all. She relaxed. Pouting, she said, “Nothing… baby’s hungry again. Let’s go eat something…”

Back in the dressing room, Nan Xiao finished rewriting the scene in minutes. She showed it to Zhou Ruicheng, who gave it a quick once-over and confirmed it was solid. Then she called Xu Ruoxin and Xiao Zekai back to shoot.

The revised version was less charged, emotionally flatter. Nan Xiao warned Zhou Ruicheng: “Make sure post-production handles it carefully. Try to create that dreamlike, hazy beauty—something impressionistic.”

If the editing was good, the scene could still hit its mark. But if they botched it? It’d be ruined.

Nan Xiao sighed, turned to leave after finishing up with Zhou Ruicheng—then Xie Chengyu stepped in front of her.

“You’re not happy?”

He locked eyes with her, searching her expression like he could read her soul.

Nan Xiao clenched her fists. The words *Why should I be happy?* nearly slipped out—but she remembered who she was.

A junior writer. A disposable cog in the machine. What right did she have to speak to the lead investor like that?

“No,” she said flatly, shaking her head. Then she sidestepped him and walked away.

She’d grown colder toward him. Xie Chengyu wasn’t stupid—he felt it. His brow twitched slightly.

But it wasn’t because she was upset. Of course she was. After what she’d been through, being miserable was only natural. No, the real reason he frowned was himself. Why did he even care about her mood?

Back in the dressing room, Nan Xiao decided to catch a few winks. She kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed.

Just as she was drifting off, a knock came at the door. She frowned, dragged herself up, and opened it—only to see Xu Ruoxin standing there.

“You need something?”

Nan Xiao didn’t bother with politeness. Her tone was sharp, her face hard.

Xu Ruoxin smiled—calm, composed, like she owned the place. She stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and said:

“Nan Xiao, you refused to rewrite the scene before because you wanted me to get close to another man, didn’t you? So you could make Chengyu jealous?”

“You never actually wanted to divorce him, did you? You admitted it yourself. But do you really think acting out will win his love? You’re delusional.”

“…”

Rage surged through Nan Xiao, washing away every trace of sleepiness.

She stared at Xu Ruoxin, cold and sharp. “Who you get close to is none of my business. Don’t project your petty mind onto me. You’re just too full of yourself.”

Her words were biting. But Xu Ruoxin kept that serene, almost elegant smirk—laced with quiet mockery. She was truly composed.

“Truly impressive for a screenwriter—sharp-tongued, aren’t you? But does it matter? Do you really think spewing insults hides your real intentions?”

“And what about you?” Nan Xiao narrowed her eyes. “What are you hiding?”

Her gaze was piercing—like it could peel back layers of skin and expose the truth beneath.

Xu Ruoxin flinched—just for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You keep coming here to provoke me. Could it be you’re insecure about your relationship with Chengyu? Maybe you’re afraid he doesn’t love you as much as you think?”

“You parade around the set every day, showing off how much he adores you. Isn’t that just a cover-up? For the fact that he doesn’t love you enough?”

“…”

Xu Ruoxin’s mask cracked. Fire flickered in her eyes. Her expression sharpened—dangerous, intense.

Then, slowly, she relaxed. Back to that effortless poise. The woman had mastered emotional control—Nan Xiao couldn’t help but notice.

“Chengyu treats me so well. Everyone sees it. How could I possibly need to hide anything?” Xu Ruoxin scoffed. “You’re just bitter because you can’t have him. Jealousy makes people say crazy things. Honestly, you’re pathetic.”

That cut deep.

Nan Xiao wasn’t jealous. Not really. But she *was* pathetic. She’d always been. She gripped her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms.

“Xu Ruoxin,” she said slowly, each word deliberate, “watch your words.”
“Food can be eaten without thinking. Words cannot. You’ll answer for what you say.”

“Hmph.”

Xu Ruoxin laughed—like it was all a joke. She tossed her voluminous curls over her shoulder, then turned and left, as graceful as ever.

Nan Xiao sank to her knees.

She hadn’t meant a word of it. She’d just said those things to sting Xu Ruoxin. Because Xie Chengyu *did* love her. She’d seen it with her own eyes—how he stood up for Xu Ruoxin in front of Old Man Xie, defending her like she was sacred.

Of course he loved her. That’s why he’d done it.

So when she’d spoken, she hadn’t believed it herself.

And sure enough, Xu Ruoxin recovered instantly. She must’ve gotten more than enough reassurance from Xie Chengyu to believe no one could shake her position.

Nan Xiao pressed a hand to her chest. It hurt—deep, sharp pain, like someone had stabbed her heart.

That night, when filming wrapped, Xu Ruoxin passed by Nan Xiao and leaned in, whispering low in her ear:

“You spoke ill of me today. You’ll pay for it.”

Nan Xiao didn’t understand what she meant. She was exhausted—too tired to care. She packed up and went home.

But the next morning, she woke up to a barrage of calls from Lin Yan and Xiao Zekai.

Something huge had happened.

Last night, a wave of posts flooded Weibo—anonymous, “reliable sources” claiming to reveal the truth.

The article claimed *The Story of Qinfei* wasn’t just a drama—it was a scandal in disguise.

Its biggest investor and the show’s screenwriter were secretly married—a forced union, not a love match. They were currently divorcing.

And during this time, the mysterious investor had begun a secret romance with the lead actress—Xu Ruoxin.

But don’t misunderstand. Xu Ruoxin wasn’t a mistress. Because the investor and screenwriter weren’t legally married in the first place—they were bound by a contract marriage.