Volume One, Chapter 11: Sister Lily

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Zhuo An was also struck hard by this trending topic.

She browsed through the post’s entries—screenshots and GIFs from yesterday’s wedding. There were moments of the two gazing into each other’s eyes, Li Shen holding Shen Zhien’s waist, and even photoshopped images combining pictures of the couple from childhood to the present.

Until she saw one: Shen Zhien performing a celestial dance on stage, with Li Shen watching her from the side, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Zhuo An’s fingertips trembled.

“Xiao An, what’s wrong?”

Zhuo An looked up to see her agent, Yang Zhenzhen, watching her with concern.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

“Come with me to a luncheon today. Sister Lily has returned from abroad—I want you to meet her.”

“Sister Lily?”

“Julianne, the former face of the official media as a hostess.”

Zhuo An immediately straightened. “How do you know her?”

“She’s my senior from school. We were in the same club and kept in touch,” Yang Zhenzhen said with a proud arch of her brow.

L Clubhouse.

This renowned establishment was styled with ancient charm; every private room had its own distinct theme.

Zhuo An and Yang Zhenzhen were ushered into a Song Dynasty-themed room. On the table sat a jade bottle from the Longquan kiln, holding a slender plum branch winding upward.

A woman of remarkable poise was delicately holding a celadon teacup, savoring her tea.

“Sister Lily!” Yang Zhenzhen greeted warmly, rushing forward. The woman stood to meet them.

“Hello, Sister Lily, I’m Zhuo An,” Zhuo An extended her hand.

Julianne’s handshake was elegant; she nodded and gestured for them to sit.

“Zhuo An, I’ve seen your work. You have the looks, the talent, and the ambition. I like that,” Julianne began.

“Thank you, Sister Lily. Zhuo An just lacks a bit of luck. Otherwise, the Golden Dragon Award wouldn’t have been such a surprise this time,” Yang Zhenzhen defended her.

“The Golden Dragon Award is just for television dramas. It means little. Are you interested in the Pearl Award for film? I can arrange that for you,” Julianne said bluntly.

The Pearl Award was the most influential film accolade in the country, widely respected internationally. Its judging process was rigorous—almost harsh. Even being shortlisted was an achievement, let alone winning Best Actor or Actress. Such trophies were the lifelong dream of every performer.

Zhuo An’s eyes brightened but a shadow of worry crossed her mind. The more enticing the offer, the greater the price.

“Sister Lily, what do you need me to do?”

“Interesting, it’s easy to talk with you,” Julianne smiled approvingly.

“It’s not difficult. Your ex-boyfriend, Li Shen—I know you can’t let go of him.” She fixed Zhuo An with a sharp gaze at her startled eyes.

“Don’t be surprised. I have the strongest paparazzi team. I work behind the scenes; he’s in the spotlight. I know he proposed to you and that his marriage wasn’t by choice. You have a very good chance. Although there’s been no real relationship between you two, the old saying ‘a woman chasing a man is just a veil thick’ applies. If you’re willing, I’ll help you.”

“Why?” Zhuo An asked, puzzled.

“For my son, Li Heng,” Julianne confessed. “I took him away from the Li family in anger back then, but now that we’re back, we intend to reclaim everything that rightfully belongs to us.”

“The Li Corporation is essentially a personal brand. The face of the brand—the decision-maker—used to be Li Zhenting, then Li Qidong, and now they want to groom Li Shen. He cannot have any blemishes. I only need to strip Li Shen of his heir status; I won’t destroy him completely. Once Li Heng inherits the Li Corporation, Li Shen can live as a carefree lord, with no worries about money or status.”

Zhuo An picked up a Jian kiln Hare’s Fur teacup and took a sip, masking her inner hesitation.

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“No need to answer me now, Zhuo An. Take a few days to think it over. When you decide, contact me anytime.”

*

Golden Bridge Theater.

The afternoon play starring Shen Zhien’s old acting buddy Yu Jun was about to begin, and she was invited to watch.

They had once run small parts together and shared many simple meals—deep comradeship born of those humble days.

Shen Zhien hurried by taxi, arriving fifteen minutes before the play started. She wandered the lobby, watching fans queue for autographs and photos, secretly envying the stage actors.

How wonderful it would be to act again. A yearning stirred within her.

“Xiao En?”

A familiar voice made Shen Zhien turn. It was Li Heng.

“It’s really you,” he said, stepping closer.

“Do you like theater too?” she asked.

“Yes. I steal moments from a busy schedule. The company is nearby, so I sneak out to see performances I like,” Li Heng whispered in her ear.

Being with Li Heng was effortless and natural. Unlike Li Shen’s coldness or the aloofness of a wealthy heir, he spoke softly, was attentive, and highly cooperative. No matter the topic, he could keep the conversation flowing. Since moving into East Mountain Villa, she had interacted with Li Heng far more than with Li Shen, and they quickly became friends.

After brief greetings, they each found their seats. Shen Zhien sat in the middle of the second row; Li Heng a few rows behind, on the right side.

The play told the story of a young actor, from small roles to overnight fame, through ups and downs, finally finding their true self.

The emotions poured forth vividly. At a particularly moving moment, Shen Zhien found tears streaming down her face without realizing it.

After the curtain fell and dusk approached, she went backstage to congratulate Yu Jun on her successful performance.

They embraced deeply, exchanged a few words, then Yu Jun asked if Shen Zhien intended to act again. Still caught up in the emotion, she nodded firmly.

Outside backstage, Li Heng found her, noticing her reddened nose and guessing she had been crying. He suggested they sit in a nearby dessert shop.

“Xiao En, why didn’t you persist with acting?” he asked. “I can tell you truly love it.”

“My younger sister was diagnosed with uremia three years ago. The family needed money. After my videos went viral, I kept chasing views to earn money faster,” she said with self-mockery.

“A rather mundane reason, isn’t it?” Li Heng shook his head sympathetically, then asked,

“Was your marriage to Li Shen because of that?”

Shen Zhien fell silent.

“If you had a chance to act again, would you want to?”

“Of course—more than anything.” Her eyes sparkled before suddenly dimming.

“I just wonder if Li Shen’s father would agree.”

“As long as the resources are legitimate, your second uncle won’t stop you.”

“I’ve thought about blending my favorite movie scenes with my videos, creating something interesting,” Shen Zhien said.

“That sounds fun. I wonder if your number one fan might be the first to see the finished product?”

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“Look forward to it.”

*

Night fell. Lin Xingchen and a group of young heirs gathered Li Shen at STAR Bar. Such gatherings happened several times a month, always at Lin Xingchen’s own bar—a high-end venue with private rooms. Li Shen joined whenever he was free.

When Li Shen was close to Zhuo An, he brought her a few times. Lin Xingchen had a rough idea that they liked each other but didn’t know how far it had gone, as neither ever acted inappropriately in public.

Among these young heirs, conversations mostly revolved around women.

Li Shen was newly married but attending alone, which made him the target of their jokes.

“Master Shen, how does newlywed life feel?” Lin Xingchen winked.

“Everything’s as usual,” Li Shen replied, emotionless.

“Coming out so late—doesn’t your wife ask about you?”

“I saw her dance at the wedding. She’s really good. You know that saying—best dancers have flexible joints and waist, can spin well. Don’t you agree, Master Shen?”

Li Shen cast a cold glance at them—all mostly idle and frivolous, their minds empty of anything meaningful.

Shen Zhien’s dancing was quite good.

But her sleeping habits were awful.

Since childhood, he had slept alone. Having someone suddenly beside him was truly unsettling. He spent half the night sleepless, watching her toss and turn—first draping her leg over him, which he pushed down, then somehow resting her head on his stomach, gradually moving down until near dawn when she kicked him in the chest.

Luckily, the bed was big enough; otherwise, he might have been pushed off.

Lost in thought, Li Shen was snapped back when Lin Xingchen joked, “Thinking about your wedding night?”

Li Shen shoved his face away and went out for some air.

Passing the bar, he saw a sleazy man leaning over a girl sprawled on the counter. The girl wore a hat, her long hair hiding her face, and a cropped top revealing a slender waist.

Li Shen approached and tapped the man on the shoulder. The man turned, meeting Li Shen’s icy glare, and grumbled,

“What’s your business? Mind your own affairs.”

The man smelled of cheap liquor.

The girl on the bar raised her head, and Li Shen recognized her face, frowning.

“I’m talking to you—what’s it to you? You want to take this girl away?” the drunkard persisted.

“Get lost!” Li Shen snapped, his eyes burning fire, which cowed the drunkard into grumbling as he left.

The girl, now seeing him clearly, burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

“Ah Shen, you’re here,” Zhuo An choked, clutching him tightly.