Chapter 23

Realizing how compromising her current position was, and how dangerous the place pressing against him was, Mu He felt as if she had been put under a spell—she didn’t dare move, her heart panicking like walking on landmines, afraid that even the slightest motion would make him… make him…

Her cheeks were burning, the heat spreading quickly to her ears, her face like blooming peach blossoms, radiant and captivating.

But staying like this wasn’t a solution.

He still hasn’t reacted?

Why didn’t he give her an out like last time?

Caught in a dilemma.

Mu He could only compromise and mentally prepare herself. Logically, a grown man shouldn’t have been unable to catch her—but why had she ended up pulling him down with her?

Could he be doing it on purpose?

Yes, he must be doing it on purpose.

Thinking this gave her courage. Mu He slowly lifted her head and found the man looking at her with a meaningful gaze, his peach blossom eyes slightly narrowed, his deep-colored eyes difficult to read, emotions concealed.

Suddenly, she realized she had been suspicious without cause. How could he be deliberate?

It must have been because she was too heavy and fell too suddenly—he simply couldn’t react in time…

Last time, accidentally kissing him almost earned her the accusation of molestation; this time, it was truly compromising, even jumping into the Yellow River wouldn’t clear it.

“Mu Yangyang.”

Compared to Mu He’s tension, Huo Si Heng’s voice sounded lazy, with a hint of nonchalance: “Are you… having any thoughts about me?”

Thoughts?

Mu He was in a fog—what thoughts could she have about him? She didn’t even know.

After a while, she finally reacted and scrambled to get up: “How is that possible?!”

Her lips denied it, but her body moved as if avoiding a raging flood, sliding to the end of the sofa, eyes darting everywhere but not at him, afraid to see anything she shouldn’t. Clearing her throat, she stammered at the air: “You… you must be overthinking?

We’re so familiar… like left and right hands on the same body, sometimes we touch or hold, right?

Would your left hand have any thoughts about your right hand?”

Mu Yangyang, well done—perfect logic.

But turning the thought around, she couldn’t feel proud—saying “left hand, right hand holding” in front of a man felt… so dirty.

Huo Si Heng studied her profile carefully—fair skin, the blush couldn’t be hidden, her guilty lashes trembling. He leaned lazily on the sofa, not yet detached from the earlier intimacy, a hint of feeling lingering in his eyes even he hadn’t noticed. After a while, his eyes cleared, a smile appearing, his mood clearly good.

Huo Si Heng did not deny it.

He had done it on purpose.

When she fell onto him, given his reflexes, he could have easily caught her within a thirty-degree tilt—but at the moment of reaching out, he hesitated, letting her warmth inch closer.

Just as that night, the deep, hollow corner of his heart was slowly being repaired.

What followed… was truly an accident.

Before, Huo Si Heng thought beauty was the easiest to resist; after, he realized she was an exception.

So he had to break the silence, letting her retreat to a safe distance.

The air hung heavy and still. Before he could respond, Mu He felt she couldn’t stay any longer, found any excuse to retreat to her room, closed the door, locked it, and lay on the bed. She thought for a moment, then burrowed into the covers, her ears burning as if on fire, her heart pounding erratically, unsure what to cover first.

Was this a normal stress response, or… had she truly developed feelings for him?

Tossing and turning, she couldn’t sleep during nap time, so she reached for her phone to distract herself.

Mu He never expected the fans’ purchasing power to be so astonishing. Rose Magazine’s pre-sale sold out in ten minutes. Fans who missed out left desperate messages on Weibo. To comfort them, she posted:

Mu He V: “Quietly saying, I didn’t manage to get a copy either…”

“What? You were going to buy a copy yourself to boost sales? Hahaha, what a god-tier idol I’m stanning!”

“Yangyang is your nickname? Sounds so nice, perfect with ‘Wanwan’!”

Thousand Paper Cranes: “Don’t worry, we know you’re broke. Leave the small matter of boosting sales to us.”

“I wanted to buy one too, but @RoseMagazine didn’t even give me a chance, argh, so frustrating!”

A fan posted an order for fifty magazines, bragging: “Having money really lets you do whatever you want!”

This comment sparked outrage: How dare you! Hand over the magazines or else!

Mu He lay on the bed scrolling Weibo, her heart sweet. A notification flashed across the top—Zhong Li Fei. Curiously, she clicked it.

Zhong Li Fei V: Slip of the hand //@Mu He: First time shooting a magazine cover, hope everyone supports me [shy emoji]

Mu He sat up abruptly—she seemed to have found the reason the magazine sold out so fast.

After her Weibo post, Zhong Li Fei almost immediately reposted it. With over fifty million fans, the reposted comments were filled with support, “buy, buy, buy”…

Could this be the legendary affection from top-tier traffic?

“It smells like a bit of citrusy sweetness.”

“What do I do? I also want to stan their CP!”

“Fei Fei, the scumbag isn’t worth it, but Yangyang is!”

Fans of “Aifei” and Thousand Paper Cranes started happily shipping them. Soon, the “Zhong-Yang CP” emerged and hit trending.

Mu He realized she couldn’t keep up—what did “citrusy sweetness” mean? She looked it up online and felt embarrassed.

Once the Zhong-Yang CP fans were rallied, the question was—

“Of course it’s Fei Fei! This aloof ‘slip of the hand’ looks so dominant, right?”

“Friend, have you forgotten the queen attack warning @Mu He gave on the magazine cover?”

…

While CP fans argued endlessly, Rose Magazine quietly released a new pre-sale link. Waiting fans were delighted, secretly avoiding sharing so they could grab copies first.

With the support of Thousand Paper Cranes, Aifei, newly formed Zhong-Yang CP fans, and casual fans attracted by the cover, this issue’s sales surpassed 1.8 million, setting the magazine’s highest record since its founding, and entering the top three in domestic female celebrity magazine sales.

Even first-tier young stars found this hard to achieve. For two-year debutant Mu He, it was a huge and unexpected joy, giving her fans plenty to be proud of.

Mu He’s fan influence was undeniable, her popularity surged, and ad endorsements naturally followed.

Good fortune came as quickly and violently as a tornado.

Before Mu He could process it, the Aifei fans’ crowdfunding for window repair had already arrived. Jokes aside, this was sincere. She donated all the money under Aifei’s name to an educational charity in remote areas, posting the donation record on Weibo to thank the fans.

This undoubtedly increased her goodwill further, gaining countless admirers.

As an actress, acting was her main job. Mu He was clear-headed, not lingering in the online rainbow world, instead focusing with Director Xie and other seniors on honing her craft, dedicating herself fully to filming.

That evening’s shoot was an action scene: Xi Yin, the devoted emperor, discovers that Lin Chu Ren (played by Yuan Xin’er), a descendant of a demon-slaying family and a mortal heroine, is the culprit endangering the emperor’s life. Angry, he confronts her, they struggle, Xi Yin injures Lin Chu Ren and slaps her.

Mu He wore a light purple long dress with two dragon horns on her forehead, exuding noble temperament. She was suspended mid-air by wires, wielding an ice sword conjured by magic, performing spinning and sword-fighting movements.

The wind machine lifted her hair, highlighting her delicate, picturesque features. The scene was breathtakingly beautiful.

Yuan Xin’er stood below, also wielding a sword, with a hint of panic: “Xi Yin, what are you intending… cough! Sorry, the wind is too strong, I choked.”

Director Xie: “One more time.”

So Mu He repeated the sword dance, and Yuan Xin’er looked up at her: “Xi Yin, what exactly are you trying to do!”

“Cut!”

The background extras whispered among themselves: “Yuan Xin’er misread her lines.”

Director Xie: “Again.”

Strike once with vigor, falter the second time, exhaust the third.

Mu He’s expression showed not an ounce of impatience. She swung the prop sword again. Yuan Xin’er managed to get her lines right, but Director Xie behind the monitor frowned deeply, his brows forming a “川” character: “Lin Chu Ren’s expression is wrong, again.”

Yuan Xin’er, unusually flustered, kept making mistakes. Director Xie’s face darkened like the bottom of a pan. Mu He lost count of how many NG takes there were, only remembering that after coming down from the wires, her shoulders and legs were sore. Tan Mian hurried over and draped a coat over her: “Yangyang, are you okay?”

Mu He shook her head: “I’m fine.”

After the break, the main slap scene began.

Mu He and Yuan Xin’er appeared in front of the camera. Lin Chu Ren had been defeated in the fight, her hands and feet sealed with ice flowers, lying on the ground, blood at the corner of her mouth: “So what if you defeated me? Qing Li’s love belongs to me.”

Xi Yin, incredulous: “You’re lying!”

Lin Chu Ren pulled something from her bosom: “Look, what’s this?”

It was the conch she had given Qing Li to communicate over long distances—how could he give it to another woman?

Xi Yin stepped back, tears instantly welling at the corners of her eyes, murmuring: “Impossible…”

Tears threatened to fall, stubbornly refusing to drop: “Impossible!”

Lin Chu Ren sneered: “Stop deceiving yourself. From start to finish, he never loved you.”

Xi Yin, provoked to the edge of collapse, rushed forward, grabbed Lin Chu Ren by the collar, and slapped her hard across the face. Almost simultaneously, tears burst from her eyes, laden with emotional intensity…

Yuan Xin’er wasn’t actually hit, but Mu He’s explosive acting stunned her. She froze, forgetting to react, staring blankly at her.

Director Xie shouted irritably, “Cut!”

Yuan Xin’er came back to herself. She admitted she had tried to make things difficult for Mu He in the previous fight scene, but when she tried to truly immerse herself afterward, Mu He had become the controller of the scene—no matter what she did, she couldn’t break in.

Yuan Xin’er had been nominated for Best Actress, her skills unquestionable, but when her eyes met Mu He’s, her focused attention was effortlessly shredded by Mu He’s calm yet imposing gaze. Her momentum visibly weakened.

By the time Director Xie’s “Cut” had become hoarse, Zhong Li Fei appeared beside him, handing him a cup of throat-soothing tea: “Director Xie, I also have a slap scene later. Personally, I think for better dramatic effect, it’s better to make it real.”

Director Xie sipped the tea; his throat felt less irritated. He nodded: “Right. Only by recreating reality as closely as possible can we truly move the audience.”

Of course, he fully respected the actors’ wishes—fake slaps were possible, but look at what this acting looked like.

While Director Xie and Zhong Li Fei chatted, Yuan Xin’er came over. She wouldn’t lose to Zhong Li Fei in any aspect, including taking a slap. After apologizing to Director Xie, she confidently requested a real slap.

Exactly what Director Xie wanted: “Alright!”

He gestured to Mu He: “Xi Yin, come on.”

Mu He approached: “Director Xie.”

Director Xie explained the scene again, emphasizing that the slap must be real. Xi Yin, engulfed in the sea of emotions, upon learning that the emperor loved another, suffered a collapse of belief—a nearly destructive psychological blow. Sadness, anger, resentment, and despair were all contained in this slap.

Mu He nodded, indicating she understood.

What puzzled her was why Yuan Xin’er suddenly requested a real slap.

She casually glanced at Zhong Li Fei; he caught her look and winked at her.

This…

“All departments, ready, action!”

Mu He fully immersed herself in the scene. After reciting her lines, she raised her aching hand high, channeling Xi Yin’s sorrow and despair, and slapped Yuan Xin’er’s face. The crisp “smack” echoed, and Yuan Xin’er’s face was turned aside…

The extras gaped in shock, Yuan Xin’er’s assistant turned away, dreading the wrath she would face after wrap.

Zhong Li Fei looked at Mu He, giving her a nod of approval.

“Pass!”

Director Xie finally revealed a satisfied smile: “Excellent!”

Force is reciprocal. Mu He’s palm hurt too; she didn’t have time to rub it, extending her hand to Yuan Xin’er: “Sorry, are you okay?”

Yuan Xin’er, dazed from the slap, slowly ignited with anger in her eyes. Realizing this happened in front of everyone, she restrained herself, squeezing out through her teeth: “I’m fine.”

Her face smiled, but her heart was gnashing teeth.

Because Yuan Xin’er had delayed filming, Mu He returned home very late. After washing up, she collapsed onto her pillow and lost consciousness immediately.

Perhaps due to the intensity of filming recently, or maybe because she had seen an old lady shivering by a roasted sweet potato stand and had stopped the car to buy all the sweet potatoes, catching a slight chill—she developed a high fever in the middle of the night.

Next door.

Huo Si Heng was about to turn off the light and sleep. The slightly ajar door was gently pushed open. He tilted his head to see that his usually timid little white cat, Wanwan, timidly walked over, anxiously meowing, circling once, then heading to the doorway.

Wanwan walked two steps, just about to look back to see if he understood her meaning, when a gust of cold wind swept past, and in the blink of an eye, he disappeared.

Huo Si Heng strode into the master bedroom, saw the person on the bed with flushed cheeks. He sat by the bed, reaching to feel her forehead—scorching: “Yangyang, wake up, you have a fever.”

Mu He, hard to wake once asleep, didn’t respond after several calls. He had to massage her Shen Ting acupoint; after several minutes, she groaned, frowning.

Huo Si Heng struggled to feed her fever medicine, wrung a hot towel to wipe her sweat. Though drowsy and feverish, she cooperated. He was about to stand to fetch a new towel when she hugged his waist…

Mu He’s whole body was cold, seeking warmth, refusing to let go. He tried several times; she didn’t release him. To make her more comfortable, he simply lay down beside her.

Surrounded by warmth and fresh, pleasant scent, Mu He’s brow relaxed, her breathing gradually calming.

Huo Si Heng gently brushed back the damp strands of hair from her forehead, his fingertips taking on her warmth. She slept peacefully, entrusting him completely, exposing her hidden vulnerability entirely.

Would he trust any other man to take care of such a delicate her?

No, not a single man in the world.

…Except himself.

Distracted, Huo Si Heng felt the person in his arms stir. Then, her neck lightly brushed him twice. Lowering his gaze, he saw her eyes slightly open, wet with a hazy look, seemingly awake. He tensed, yet heard her soft voice:

“Daddy.”