Chapter 51: The Reading Circle

Hearing her grandmother’s words, Wen Jin’s smile grew warm. She nodded solemnly, understanding at last: she and Gu Yao could help each other improve. Love was not about being a suitable match or not; she had no reason to feel inferior.

“Was it that young man who visited last time?” Wen Lihua leaned forward a little, asking Wen Jin quietly, as if sharing a little secret just between grandmother and granddaughter.

A faint blush crept over Wen Jin’s cheeks as she softly replied, “Mm,” her voice shy.

Wen Lihua grinned at her. This child was clearly enveloped in happiness now; there was nothing left to worry about. “Our Jin has excellent taste.”

They exchanged a knowing smile.

Unnoticed, another week slipped by. Though the weather remained cold, the sun shone brightly.

Lin Xi remembered Qi Qi had mentioned that “Legend of the Phantom Moon” would premiere today, so she prepared her promotional post and sent it out.

@LinXiV: “Legend of the Phantom Moon” launches tonight at 8 on Yuntai! There’s a surprise~ @QiQiIsHandsome

To avoid any awkwardness, Lin Xi only tagged Qi Qi. As soon as she posted, many assumed she was merely helping him promote the show, making the real surprise all the more delightful when they tuned in.

Qi Qi happened to be browsing online when he saw Lin Xi’s post and immediately left a comment.

@QiQiIsHandsome: That’s right! There’s a big surprise tonight—don’t miss it or you’ll regret it!

A small wave of discussion quickly followed online.

What Lin Xi didn’t know was that the “Legend of the Phantom Moon” team had agreed to start promotions that afternoon, but because of her early post, everyone rushed to release their own materials ahead of schedule.

As a result, the show that was supposed to launch quietly that evening trended on social media from morning. Even the director couldn’t help but send Lin Xi a message of thanks—her “trending physique” was truly impressive!

Lin Xi could only shrug helplessly.

“Prosperous Times” was now in the final stages of filming, with mostly large-scale scenes left. Each day, the entire cast was exhausted, hurrying back to the hotel after shooting—sometimes not even bothering to remove makeup—afraid Director Lu would call them back to reshoot an imperfect take.

Gu Yao had been meaning to speak with Wen Jin, so he waited for her at her hotel after filming, but she didn’t return that evening.

She had gone to the hospital to visit her grandmother. Knowing what had happened to Wen Yiming, her grandmother especially urged her to visit the Wen family home if she had time.

Night had fallen, shrouding everything in a cold, eerie silence. The wind wailed as Wen Jin walked the familiar cobblestone path leading to the Wen estate. The mansion no longer had its former grandeur or bright lights.

From afar, the wind rustled the leaves. A thin layer of dust coated the windowpanes, and in the corners outside, cobwebs layered one upon another.

She made her way inside. Everything was silent. Weeds choked the small courtyard before the house, a clear sign it hadn’t been tended in some time.

With a soft click, Wen Jin pushed open the door. Inside, the space was empty—no more leather sofas, no exquisite paintings on the walls, and the wall of antiques had vanished.

Dim and quiet, there wasn’t a single servant bustling about; the place felt deserted and forlorn.

“How dare you show your face here!” Wen Sipei was the first to spot her, striding over and glaring venomously. “Hmph, when trouble hit, you vanished without a trace. Now that Dad’s in prison, you want a share of the inheritance? Let me tell you, not a chance!”

“If you’re so capable, why don’t you spend your money getting Dad out? What are you doing here, mocking us? Disgusting!”

“What’s going on?” Sun Yao emerged from the kitchen, hair tied back, looking every bit the housekeeper now. With the servants gone, her year as a wealthy matron had ended abruptly, and her dreams of her son’s success were just as distant as ever. Wen Jin almost felt sorry for her.

“I only came to see if you needed any help,” Wen Jin replied, ignoring Wen Sipei’s hostility. “Father’s imprisonment was due to his own company’s issues. He broke the law. I’m no miracle worker.”

Hearing this, Sun Yao’s face grew pale and weak. “It’s rare for you to come back. We used to…”

Sun Yao didn’t really dislike Wen Jin; there were simply too many things she couldn’t control.

“Now that the family’s down and out, you’re here to gloat? Drop the act! We don’t need your pity!” Wen Sipei persisted, his pride wounded.

Wen Jin only smiled, a trace of mockery in her expression. “Even if nothing had happened, would I have been welcome here? Did you ever treat me as a Wen?”

Wen Sipei’s aggressive stance faltered; he was left speechless.

“That’s enough.” Sun Yao hurried over to push her son. “Stop talking.”

Wen Jin didn’t wish to dwell on painful matters. She walked up to Sun Yao, pulling out an envelope and handing it over. “Auntie, this is for you. It’s not much, but enough to support you until you find work and settle down. If nothing else, there’s always this house.”

Sun Yao stood there, stunned, unsure how to respond.

“That’s all I can do for you. I’ll reach out to find out how many years Father was sentenced to and let you know so you can make arrangements.” With that, Wen Jin stepped back. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”

Without hesitation, she turned to leave.

“Jin…” Sun Yao called after her, voice dry. “Why not stay for dinner?”

Wen Jin didn’t look back, responding simply, “No need.”

Her voice echoed through the empty house.

Sun Yao and Wen Sipei stood rooted to the spot, unable to recover from their shock. Of all people, it was the one they’d least cared for who had come to their aid in their darkest hour.

Sun Yao felt a particular bitterness. After Wen Yiming’s downfall, she’d tried taking her son back to her parents’ home to lay low, but was ruthlessly turned away as if they were some plague to be avoided.

She was their daughter, after all. When she lived in luxury, her mother had vied to move into the Wen estate, currying favor with Wen Yiming and doting on her. But now, overnight, everything had changed. Her parents refused to acknowledge her, terrified of trouble. For the first time, she realized how fragile family ties could be.

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On Saturday, Lin Xi and Lu Yuxiu went together to the office building for the script reading session.

When they entered, the long table was nearly full, actors chatting amongst themselves as they waited for Director Yan to begin.

Shu Yunyi greeted Lin Xi with a smile, and she responded with equal excitement. Lu Yuxiu noticed the interest in her eyes and pulled her to a seat.

“I get it now,” Lin Xi murmured, tugging at Lu Yuxiu’s sleeve. “This script reading is for the cast and crew to study the script together.”

Lu Yuxiu clasped her hand under the table, hooking her pinky with hers. “Right, it’s for the actors and editors to discuss the plot and revise anything that doesn’t work.”

Lin Xi nodded in understanding. “Then why didn’t we have a script reading for ‘Prosperous Times’?”

A smile touched Lu Yuxiu’s eyes. “That script was already very polished. With my dad’s perfectionist tendencies, he’d ironed out all the kinks. There was no need for a reading.”

“So that’s it. Director Lu is truly dedicated,” Lin Xi couldn’t help but exclaim.

“He’s just obsessed with his craft,” Lu Yuxiu muttered, not wanting Lin Xi to praise any man—even his father.

Lin Xi, oblivious, chuckled softly. “I always suspected Director Lu was a Virgo!”

Lu Yuxiu raised an eyebrow; she wasn’t wrong.

“Everyone’s here, let’s begin. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can rest,” Director Yan said, well aware that the actors were eager to wrap up. Still, no matter how quickly things went, script readings never wrapped in just an hour or two. Lin Xi and Lu Yuxiu ended up sitting there the entire day.

Director Yan sat at the head of the table. “Let’s go through the scripts and read some key scenes.”

“Alright,” the four leads agreed.

The first few scenes went smoothly, earning nods of approval from both the director and the editor, Guo Guo. Then it was time for the leads to share their thoughts.

Lin Xi blinked at Lu Yuxiu.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling almost uneasy under her direct gaze.

“I was just wondering what you’d be like playing a scumbag,” she replied, chin in hand, eyes full of mischief.

Lu Yuxiu laughed helplessly. “You think the male lead, Qin Zexing, is a scumbag? Why?”

“Of course.” Lin Xi nodded firmly. “Qin Zexing gave up everything after one failed competition, abandoning his girlfriend of five years and going abroad alone to heal. Isn’t that absurd? What else would you call him?”

“He’s not only irresponsible toward himself, but also toward the heroine. He left Mu Beibei alone to face the media and public backlash. What girl could handle that?” Lin Xi, siding with the female lead, grew more and more aggrieved as she spoke.

They debated passionately.

Meanwhile, Shu Yunyi had quietly moved to sit beside Su Chen, startling him. Wasn’t she always avoiding him? Why approach him now?

She glanced at him and finally spoke, “Su Chen, thank you for speaking up for me. Director Yan told me everything.”

Su Chen looked down, trying hard to control his expression, struggling between restraint and words unsaid. Finally, he said stiffly, “No need to thank me. Changing actors would’ve been troublesome; it had nothing to do with you.”

Shu Yunyi only smiled faintly, eyes lowered. “Su Chen, as I said before, you’re a good person. Don’t waste your time on me. We’re not right for each other. You deserve a better girl.”

For some reason, a cloud always seemed to hang over her, her smile tinged with sorrow.

Su Chen didn’t notice, but his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a tight line. She’d said it again—she didn’t love him anymore, didn’t want any connection. But couldn’t she at least let him stay by her side?

“After this film, I’m leaving the entertainment industry. I hope you do well in the future,” Shu Yunyi said, her voice both somber and at peace.

Su Chen’s knuckles whitened around the back of his chair. To avoid him, she was willing to leave the industry entirely? Did she really despise him that much?

The silence between them stretched on—a knot that could not be untied.