Incurable Chapter 39 Part 1

Chapter 39 (1/2)

Because Liu Qianxiu rose early for his morning meditation, he was usually awake a little after six. Mu Wan slept later. By the time she finally rubbed her eyes and wandered out of bed, still drowsy, breakfast would already be ready, and she would shuffle into the kitchen looking for him.

That morning, breakfast was sandwiches and juice, set neatly on the table. Liu Qianxiu was standing at the sink washing his hands when, a moment later, a warm body drifted over and leaned against him.

She was much shorter than he was. Her face rested right between his shoulder blades, and she rubbed her cheek there twice, softly, lazily. Liu Qianxiu turned off the faucet, dried his hands with a paper towel, turned, and kissed her at the temple.

Even in the height of summer, mornings still smelled fresh.

Satisfied with the kiss, Mu Wan smiled. Only then did she properly open her eyes and slip both arms around him.

“You’re up early today,” Liu Qianxiu said, glancing at the time.

Mu Wan clung to him, barefoot, her feet planted on top of his. She had no intention of moving. So he simply wrapped an arm around her and lifted her whole body up.

This was not the first time they had done this. The instant Liu Qianxiu moved, Mu Wan understood, and as he picked her up, she automatically hooked both legs around his waist. Just like that, he carried her over and set her down on one of the tall stools by the dining table.

“There’s a launch ceremony today,” Mu Wan said, biting into her sandwich and chewing in small, neat bites. “For that series I told you about before—A Thousand Threads of Snow.”

The Empress’s role in that production was the best role Mu Wan had gotten in years, and she was genuinely happy about it. But the thought of seeing Mu Qing again as soon as she got to the set made her feelings turn complicated.

Mu Qing had not withdrawn from the production. She was still in it and still the lead. There was no way they would not run into each other at the opening ceremony today. Still, Mu Wan did not want anyone to know about her connection to the Mu family, so with that many people around, Mu Qing probably would not say anything too pointed in public, as she had before.

Mu Wan took a sip of juice and looked at Liu Qianxiu. Then she remembered that earlier scene in the alley at the film base, when she had run into Mu Qing.

That had been the first time Mu Qing had ever taken the initiative to speak to her. What she had said had been unpleasant, but Mu Wan had heard worse and forgotten it. Still, now that she thought about it carefully, Mu Qing had always played the dignified, untouchable orchid. So why had she lost her composure over Mu Wan getting the Empress role in A Thousand Threads of Snow?

Clearly, she had not wanted Mu Wan in that part. Shen Entertainment was one of the primary investors in the series. If Mu Qing had really wanted her out, then by all logic, she should never have gotten the role at all.

When people are living inside an event, they often miss what is wrong with it. Only after stepping out of it and replaying it in memory do the odd details start to surface.

She thought of Mei Yaozhi again.

Liu Qianxiu was eating. Sensing her stare, he looked up at her once. Her eyes were bright and alert, clearly turning something over in her mind.

“You’re unhappy?” he asked quietly after taking a sip of juice.

“Not exactly.” Mu Wan came back to herself. She lowered her head a little. “I am happy. It’s just... I suddenly remembered that Mu Qing is the lead in this one.”

Mu Wan had never really spoken to Liu Qianxiu about the Mu family before. He looked at her in silence, and she gave a small smile and summarized it simply.

“She’s sort of my cousin. We’re around the same age. Ever since we were kids, there was nothing she could beat me at. I moved out of the Mu family house once I came of age, and I’ve had nothing to do with them since. But she entered the entertainment industry recently, and her boyfriend is Shen Cheng from Shen Entertainment. Her resources have always been good. Mine were fine too, until out of nowhere she started targeting me. Last week I had no work at all because she had my scenes cut. I still don’t know why I suddenly started working again this week—she was furious about it. A few days ago when I ran into her, she even implied I was being kept. That’s why I told you before not to believe anything messy you might hear.”

She looked at him and went on, more lightly, “At the time I was just thinking that as long as I still had work, that was enough, so I didn’t think too much about it. And I assumed the whole ‘kept woman’ thing was just her way of smearing me. But these last few days... nothing has actually happened.”

She paused, then added, “Now that I think back on it, quite a few things have felt off lately. Don’t you think?”

She bit into her sandwich and waited for his answer.

Liu Qianxiu’s expression did not change. He looked at her quietly once and asked, “So what do you think?”

“I’m not really sure,” Mu Wan said with a laugh, shaking her head. “But if I have to be in the same production as Mu Qing, and she’s the lead while I’m the supporting role, she’s definitely going to make things difficult for me. Still, even if she does, I’m going to act in it. I really like this role.”

Then she paused and said, “It would’ve been better if the lead had still been Tang Qin. She doesn’t know me. She wouldn’t have tried to trip me up.”

She said it with a smile. There was trouble in her eyes, but hope too. But once she finished saying it, she seemed to let it go. She was not asking Liu Qianxiu to solve anything for her. She was only telling him her frustrations and voicing a small wish.

Nothing more ordinary than that.

Liu Qianxiu looked at her quietly, as if he had seen nothing in her words—or as if he had seen everything. Then he glanced at the plate by her hand and said, “Finish eating.”

“Oh.” Mu Wan lowered her head and obediently kept eating.

After breakfast, Liu Qianxiu left for work, and Mu Wan took a taxi to the film base.

The opening ceremony for A Thousand Threads of Snow was still being set up. She was only a supporting actress, and if she had not had scenes to shoot today, she would not even have needed to come. Since she was there, she lent a hand where she could. The platform for the ceremony still needed to be arranged. Once that was ready, the actors would do makeup and then come over for the incense offering.

The leads had not yet arrived.

Once she finished helping, Mu Wan sat to the side and reviewed her script. She had important scenes to shoot that day. She could not afford to be careless.

Gao Mei was shooting in the neighboring production. She happened to be waiting on her own scene, so she wandered over to find Mu Wan.

“How do you have time to come over? Where’s little brother Li Cheng?” Mu Wan teased, smiling as she closed her script.

The night before, Gao Mei had bombarded her nonstop with photos of Li Cheng. At first, Mu Wan had indulged her. By eight or nine, Gao Mei had finally burned herself out.

“He doesn’t have any scenes today.” Gao Mei wore the tragic expression of someone in romantic mourning. She waddled over and sat beside Mu Wan, taking the script from her hands. “You really got it. I’m so jealous. You actually get to play the roles you want.”

It was Gao Mei who had recommended the original novel to her in the first place, and Mu Wan had said back then that she loved the Empress role. Getting cast now felt like a dream coming true by another route.

After Gao Mei said that, Mu Wan looked up toward the dressing-room area. People were moving in and out. It was busy, but outwardly calm. Nothing seemed to be happening.

“What role do you want?” Mu Wan turned back and continued chatting.

“Li Cheng’s goddess,” Gao Mei said.

Mu Wan looked at her in silence.

Gao Mei started laughing at her own answer. “A person has to have dreams, okay? Maybe one day I’ll be rich enough to invest in a drama myself. Then I’ll play the heroine and Li Cheng will play the hero.”

Before Mu Wan could answer, someone walked over.

Both women lifted their eyes. Mi Yu stood there in full makeup, a cigarette between her fingers.

She was playing a concubine in the series, one whose character blackened later in the story. Her makeup was therefore unusually striking. Dressed in full Hanfu with a woman’s cigarette in hand, she gave off a sharp, glamorous aura.

As she approached, it seemed she had caught the last part of their conversation. Elegant fingers holding the slim cigarette, red lips parting as she blew out a ribbon of smoke, she joined in as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“If you were rich enough to invest in your own movie, you still wouldn’t get to play the heroine,” Mi Yu said. Then she gave Gao Mei’s figure a quick once-over. “Even if you wanted to, the other investors wouldn’t agree. They still need to make money.”

Gao Mei flushed instantly and got to her feet.

They were not from the same company. Mu Wan had told Gao Mei before that Mi Yu only looked difficult, but was actually a decent person underneath. Even so, Gao Mei remained faithful to first impressions.

Mi Yu watched her puffed-up, offended expression and curved her red lips into a faint smile. “If it’s your own money, then that production is yours. Who lives or dies in the cast would be entirely up to you.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the sound of something being smashed came from the dressing-room area.

Gao Mei forgot she was angry. Curiosity took over, and she turned to look. Mu Wan lifted her gaze too, and when she did, she glanced at Mi Yu.

Mi Yu was already looking at her.

One of Mu Wan’s brows rose.

Mi Yu’s expression was unreadable. She stubbed out the cigarette and said to Mu Wan, “Mu Qing’s been pulled. The production changed the female lead at the last minute. I’m taking the role.”

Then she turned and left.

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