Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Of course, being selected was exciting.

Wang Shanshan had already begun flaunting it in the airport to her parent group chat—full of other parents who, like her, hoped their children would become stars. She knew this wasn’t finalized yet and needed to remain confidential, so she restrained herself and modestly said her daughter had just gotten a very incredible opportunity that might lead to overnight fame.

Naturally, the chat responded in all kinds of ways. The more polite ones said congratulations. The curious ones asked what the opportunity was. The sour ones said, “Oh wow, what do you mean by ‘overnight fame,’ huh?”

In such a joyful moment, Wang Shanshan went full force, holding down the voice message button on her phone and sending a nonstop stream of updates.

An Jiujing, on the other hand, remained calm. She just sent a message to Chi Tuo—two words and an exclamation mark: “Got it!”

Chi Tuo didn’t reply. She idly opened a game and played two rounds. She was the kind of player who was bad but loved to play anyway. She lost both rounds and got flamed by teammates so badly the chat was full of filtered words. She quietly hit “exit.”

Truthfully, it still didn’t feel real.

She thought back to what the assistant had said earlier: starting next week, she’d undergo a three-month actor training program. Physical training, diction, learning how to gut fish at a wet market—Lin Luo’s stepfather was a fish vendor. Food and lodging included. The program even covered senior-year high school coursework.

This kind of training, which she’d only seen in behind-the-scenes film documentaries, she was now about to personally experience.

It all felt so surreal, especially after boarding the plane. She couldn’t get her feet back on the ground.

Eventually, it was Wang Shanshan who pulled her back to reality.

Once her mom boarded the plane, she could no longer show off online. After buzzing with excitement for a bit, she pulled out paper and pen from her briefcase and began taking notes.

“The director said you have to lose fifteen jin before filming starts. There’s only four months left. That means at least four jin a month.”

An Jiujing: “Okay.”

She had a large frame—the kind that made any extra weight very obvious. In the past, just to do print modeling, she’d have to be four or five jin lighter than other girls of the same height to look good on camera.

Weight loss had been a persistent ghost in her life ever since she shot her first commercial at twelve.

She hated dieting.

But the world loves skinny people.

“I still need to get in touch with Lawyer Yu, see if she can make time to look over your performance contract.”

An Jiujing sighed: “Isn’t Auntie Yu a divorce lawyer? Isn’t that the wrong specialty?”

“A lawyer’s a lawyer—she knows enough.” Wang Shanshan jabbed repeatedly at her pen’s clicker, click click click, giddy. “Ahhh, I really didn’t think you’d be this promising.”

An Jiujing didn’t respond. Her mind went back to that afternoon, before the assistant had made the announcement, when Wang Shanshan had looked ready to rip her apart.

The powder keg had temporarily gone silent.

But she didn’t know when it might explode again.

“Your training is closed-off, right? It’s at that resort next to Baigang City. Food and lodging covered for three months.” Wang Shanshan continued her planning. “I’ll come visit you every week. If you need anything, or have schoolwork or test papers, I’ll bring them to you once a week. Don’t worry about doing laundry there—just hand wash your underwear, the rest I’ll bring back to wash.”

“You just focus on your training over there. I’ll use the next three months to really settle things with An Huaimin.”

“That way, when filming starts, I can be by your side full-time.”

“Actually, I’m really worried about that closed training.”

“I honestly don’t trust you. Whenever I’m not around, you always sneak food. And it’s always the worst high-calorie stuff. Now there’s a hard rule—you have to lose weight. If you don’t and they replace you, I swear I’ll jump off a building.”An Jiujing said helplessly, “There are physical instructors and nutritionists in the training program—they’ll manage my weight.”

Wang Shanshan rolled her eyes. “Oh please, if I can’t make you lose weight, you think nutritionists can? Who knows you better than I do? When you're under pressure, all you do is sleep or sneak food. You have zero self-control.”

An Jiujing chose to stay silent.

Wang Shanshan muttered a couple more things, then couldn’t help but get excited again. “Let me tell you, it wasn’t until I went in that I found out that Number Two, that Chen Miao, is totally a connected candidate.”

“You really are something!” She gave her daughter a hard slap on the shoulder. “So damn impressive!”

“Ow!” An Jiujing yelped, rubbing her shoulder.

Strangely, the excitement and surreal feeling of getting the role vanished under that slap. Now her mind was filled with only two things: losing weight and training.

It felt like... not much had changed.

Just swapped studying for training.

When the plane landed in Wangcheng, it was already past 11 p.m. An Jiujing turned on her phone and saw that Chi Tuo still hadn’t replied—not even a single character.

She frowned and dialed his number.

The prompt said, “The number you dialed is currently unavailable.”

“What’s wrong?” Wang Shanshan hailed a ride and pulled her daughter toward the agreed pick-up gate.

“Chi Tuo’s phone isn’t connecting.” An Jiujing kept calling while walking, glancing up in confusion. “If I call again, it says his phone’s off.”

“He’s probably at the hospital with your Aunt Zhang Rou today,” Wang Shanshan said as she spotted the rideshare car and waved. “It’s late already. They must be resting in the ward. He probably turned off his phone to avoid disturbing her.”

But he’d never turned his phone off before, not even during previous hospital stays. In fact, they’d even played games together late at night when they couldn’t sleep.

Still, An Jiujing didn’t press further. Wang Shanshan’s temper wasn’t built to handle repeated questioning. She’d blow up.

Especially now, with people everywhere at the airport and while trying to get in the car.

All she could do was send him a few messages. The last one read: [What’s going on with you?]

Chi Tuo didn’t reply to any of them by the next day.

The exciting news about her successful audition, held in all night like a treasure, had by morning turned into dried pickled mustard—tossed out like trash along with the excitement that Wang Shanshan had slapped flat the day before. When she woke up and saw there was still no message, she tried calling him again.

The same voice message repeated, again and again: The number you have dialed is turned off.

In both Chinese and English, switching back and forth like it was being considerate.

But it was 6:30 a.m.—he’d never turn off his phone at this time.

Annoyed.

She even detoured to Chi Tuo’s house on her way out. Knocked for five minutes—definitely no one home.

And he wasn’t at school either.

She had originally planned to visit Zhang Rou in the hospital after school, figuring that if Chi Tuo wasn’t anywhere else, then he must be there.

But just before school ended, she got a call from Wang Shanshan telling her to come home—the film crew had sent someone over to discuss the contract.Wang Shanshan was in such a rush she didn’t even have time to call Lawyer Yu. The voice on the phone sounded clearly flustered and lacking confidence.

Sometimes An Jiujing felt like life was really just opening mystery boxes. Even RPG games at least had quest markers or a main storyline—she had nothing. Random side quests just dropped on her one after another, and she was completely unprepared.

She hadn’t even thought this far ahead.

It was supposed to be just a simple contract discussion—how did it end up circling back to her parents' divorce and nearly turning into a fight?

At first, things went relatively smoothly. Wang Shanshan, after all, had been hanging around the edges of the entertainment circle for five years. She knew a bunch of wannabe stage moms and stage dads, and had heard all kinds of gossip. So she was more familiar with showbiz matters than the average person. Director Yang Zhengyi's film crew was also known for being professional and experienced. They came with a lawyer and a preliminary draft of the contract, and the three of them patiently explained everything to Wang Shanshan and An Jiujing point by point.

An Jiujing, meanwhile, was still stuck thinking about Chi Tuo, who had been missing for two days, so she barely registered what they were saying at first.

But even if she had, it wouldn’t have made a difference—decisions like this were always made by Wang Shanshan. If An Jiujing said too much, she’d probably get scolded again.

So things went on in a relatively peaceful way for nearly an hour—until An Huaimin came back.

“What’s this?” He reeked of alcohol. “She really got the role? Those two cars parked out front are seriously flaunting it.”

Liu, the assistant who had come with the team, stood up awkwardly and asked, “And you are…?”

“Her father!” An Huaimin slurred, pointing at An Jiujing.

What happened next, in An Jiujing’s eyes, was basically like opening a hell-difficulty dungeon—chaotic, disordered, with blades flying and health bars dropping.

She only remembered An Huaimin sitting down beside Wang Shanshan, acting all proper as he said, “Go on. I’m just listening.”

Normally Wang Shanshan would never tolerate that, but this time, she had just assured Director Yang Zhengyi that their family was fully supportive of An Jiujing acting. She couldn’t backpedal now—not when the contract wasn’t even signed yet, and Number Two Chen Miao was still a connection they had to worry about.

So she endured it. She even scooted over a bit to make room for An Huaimin and explained to Assistant Liu, “Jiujing’s dad doesn’t work locally. He came all the way back just for this.”

“Ah,” Liu nodded, though he didn’t ask why this supposedly special trip involved reeking of alcohol, as if the man had been drinking for a full day.

“So… shall we continue?” the lawyer from the film crew asked politely.

The discussion resumed from where it had been interrupted, and surprisingly, An Huaimin didn’t interrupt again. He even pretended to follow along seriously.

But An Jiujing already knew what he was here for.

Regardless of how he found out about her successful audition, An Huaimin wasn’t here to stir up trouble. He was here for money.

Thanks to all of Chi Tuo’s constant nagging, she knew that in a divorce, assets had to be divided. If her earnings continued to be deposited into Wang Shanshan’s account like before, it would legally count as shared marital property.

Dream on.

“I don’t feel well,” An Jiujing clutched her stomach. “Can we reschedule this discussion?”

“Want to puke again?” Wang Shanshan frowned, not quite getting it. “Did you sneak food again today?”

“Don’t know. Just feel like throwing up.” An Jiujing got up and rushed to the bathroom.

“Is her stomach not doing well?” Assistant Liu asked Wang Shanshan. “She threw up during yesterday’s audition too. Any health issues we should know about?”

“No, no, no.” Wang Shanshan replied rapidly. “She’s just been dieting lately—might have gone a little too far…”

“She gets physicals every year. We even have last month’s report. Want me to go grab it for you?”

“No need, as long as she’s healthy,” Liu said, adding, “Before joining the crew, the director will arrange a physical too. If there’s any health issue, we need to know early so we can plan accordingly.”

“Got it, got it.” Wang Shanshan smiled. “Director Yang is so professional—and such a great guy.”An Jiujing, locked inside the poorly soundproofed bathroom, listened to the conversation outside and, for some reason, thought especially of Chi Tuo.

It felt like in this entire world, only he and she were standing on the same side.

“Mom,” An Jiujing cracked open the bathroom door a little. “I really don’t feel well. Might be a cold. I want to go to the hospital.”

“Then maybe…” Assistant Liu stood up.

“Stuff like this should just be discussed with us parents, right? Our community hospital’s just two or three steps from the front gate. Can’t she go herself?” An Huaimin suddenly interjected. “I’m very busy with work. It’s rare that I can come back. If we have to gather everyone again, it won’t be so easy.”

Assistant Liu hesitated and looked toward the lawyer.

An Jiujing pulled the door open a little more. “I’ll be an adult next month. I’m not signing a contract I haven’t gone through from start to finish.”

She washed her face. Her hair and face were dripping wet. Just now, while they weren’t paying attention, she’d even pressed her tongue root—and now she could genuinely puke. She turned around and, with a “Wah,” vomited.

“Hope she’s not really sick.” Wang Shanshan finally showed some concern and quickly tried to smooth things over with Assistant Liu. “How about this—it's pretty late already, why don’t we reschedule for tomorrow morning?”

“It’s just… us two don’t really understand these things. I can even get a lawyer to help us go over everything, much more efficient that way.”

Assistant Liu nodded. “Alright, then we’ll come to your place again at 10 a.m. tomorrow?”

He was noticeably more polite than he had been during the audition, and it seemed he had conveniently forgotten the way he’d dismissed An Jiujing before as attention-seeking.

Adults in adult society.

The director's legal team ended up agreeing to move the meeting to the next day due to An Jiujing’s “illness.” After sending them off, Wang Shanshan watched the car leave the community before knocking on the bathroom door: “Jiujing, want Mom to take you to the hospital?”

An Jiujing opened the door and pulled Wang Shanshan inside.

She whispered to her mother the things she was worried about, the suspicions that had been bothering her.

She’d originally thought Wang Shanshan would quietly find an excuse to get rid of An Huaimin—after all, the meeting was scheduled for 10 a.m. tomorrow. She could say Jiujing had a high fever or something, and the contract could be signed later during her training in Baigang City.

They had time. An Huaimin still had to go back to work. He couldn’t stick around forever.

But what she didn’t expect was for Wang Shanshan to completely snap the moment she heard her.

She stormed out, picked up a chair, and smashed it against An Huaimin’s back while he was smoking and reading the contract.

In an instant, all of An Jiujing’s plans to feign illness and quietly avoid conflict shattered like glass. The furniture and decor that could be thrown were all airborne.

In the end, it was a neighbor who called 110, and that was the only reason the domestic chaos came to an end.

An Huaimin and Wang Shanshan both ended up at the police station.

An Jiujing pulled out her phone, glanced at the time, and called Chi Tuo again. Still powered off.

She climbed onto the only bed in her room that was still somewhat intact and pulled the blanket over herself.

She thought—

I'm going to die.

So lonely.