“Su Ke trafficking drugs?” When Ji Mingshu saw this news, she had just finished her face mask. She hastily tore off the mask sheet and ran out of the bathroom without even washing her face. “You didn’t do this, did you?”

Cen Sen was leaning against the headboard, reading a book. He looked up and asked gently: “Am I in the mafia?”

Ji Mingshu: “…”

Cen Sen methodically turned a page, his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting slightly. “I can’t force him to commit crimes.”

Ji Mingshu understood the implication. Translated, it meant: Though I can’t force someone to commit crimes, I can certainly catch them when they do and report them.

She hadn’t realized that Cen Sen was an excellent community watchdog.

She moved to the edge of the bed and glanced at the book in Cen Sen’s hand. Sure enough, staying true to his CEO persona, he was reading a book entirely in a foreign language.

She pressed the book down, suddenly leaned in to give him a kiss, then quickly sat up straight, looking down at him: “Good job, here’s a reward.”

Cen Sen chuckled lightly and continued reading with lowered eyes.

Ji Mingshu initiating a kiss late at night was simply taking advantage of her period, knowing she could tease him without consequences. She called it a reward, but it was more like torture.

Ji Mingshu was perfectly aware of this. After her teasing, she stood up in a good mood, hands behind her back, bouncing as she walked, humming a tune that sounded like the theme song from a palace intrigue drama.

Cen Sen watched her back. His usually hard features seemed to soften considerably in the glow of the floor lamp, the corners of his mouth bearing an almost imperceptible upward curve.

If Li Wenyin hadn’t been so troublesome, Cen Sen wouldn’t have acted so early or so ruthlessly.

Other scandals could be covered up or suppressed, or they could wait for the commotion to die down without much impact on the film. But drug trafficking wasn’t just a scandal or a disgraced artist issue; it was a criminal offense that led to imprisonment.

And all the related arrest news stated that Su Ke was apprehended on the spot at Li Wenyin’s film set.

Li Wenyin’s film was being shot at an international high school in the capital. They were filming a scene where the male lead was alone in the classroom while the female lead secretly watched from the back door—a crush scenario. Without warning, police suddenly burst in and apprehended the suspect, Su Ke.

The incident happened suddenly. The production was immediately halted, and all staff were taken away for questioning. It was said that the female lead threw a diva tantrum, refusing to go to the police station, which ended in an ugly scene where she was almost forcibly taken away.

All at once, alongside the uproar about Su Ke’s drug trafficking, numerous topics related to the film emerged.

Su Ke had been personally selected by Li Wenyin as the best male lead after considering capital, popularity, acting skills, and other factors. She knew Su Ke wasn’t clean, but she also knew that despite his dirty background, he had solid connections, making it difficult for him to fall from grace without something extraordinary happening. So, after officially announcing him as the male lead, she had confidently posted on Weibo supporting Su Ke.

Who would have thought that everything would change overnight?

After leaving the police station, Li Wenyin’s phone was constantly busy.

At first, she thought there was still room for recovery; after all, the film had just started shooting, and if the male lead had an issue, they could replace him.

But the female lead, the second female lead, and the second male lead, as if coordinated, all posted on Weibo without any warning, stating they would withdraw from the film.

Come on, who would dare continue filming? Everyone outside was saying their production was a drug den!

For other kinds of publicity, riding the wave might be worth it, but at this point, they’d rather remain unknown D-listers for life than have any connection with Li Wenyin’s production!

Even more pragmatic than these stars were the investors. Due to the initial promotional heat of the film, Li Wenyin had originally secured several advertising placements, but now they were all calling to cancel their cooperation.

The Yuan family was even more ruthless. They didn’t even contact her personally, instead having an assistant coldly inform her: they wouldn’t ask for the first phase of investment back, but regrettably, all subsequent investments were canceled.

Upon receiving this call from the assistant, Li Wenyin truly woke up to the reality that perhaps genuine appreciation doesn’t exist in this world.

When Feng Shuxiu initially introduced her to the sickly Yuan heir, Li Wenyin wasn’t too impressed but maintained an appropriate attitude for the sake of forming a good connection.

As expected, he admired her, frequently inviting her to movies and exhibitions, discussing classical literary theory and the history of Eastern and Western cinema with her…

Gradually, her opinion of him improved. She felt he genuinely had real talent and a sincere appreciation for art.

So she used a few small tactics to make this man firmly believe that her making this film wasn’t because she still had feelings for her first love, but purely to create the most spirited work, purely for artistic creation.

Not to boast, but she was very clear about exactly how attractive she was to a certain type of man. Later, successfully securing investment from the Yuan family was the best proof.

However, what she didn’t realize was that the so-called attraction and appreciation couldn’t withstand a scandal that caused the initial investment to fail.

The last call came from Feng Shuxiu.

Feng Shuxiu offered neither comfort nor mockery, simply pointing out the final path: “The Cen family has already sent word to the Zou family that they never want to see you appear in the capital again. Deal with the remaining mess and go abroad; don’t come back.”

Li Wenyin closed her eyes.

In that moment, she recalled many old memories.

She remembered seeing Ji Mingshu as a child, wearing pretty little dresses and acting coquettishly with her uncles and aunts;

She remembered middle school boys privately discussing how beautiful Ji Mingshu was.

She remembered inviting classmates to dinner and karaoke, finally having a decent birthday celebration, only to have everyone suddenly discussing how Ji Mingshu’s birthday was spent attending the Crillon Ball for debutantes in Paris…

For many, many years, she stood in the place closest to Ji Mingshu, yet separated by the furthest distance in this world.

Only during those three months when she was dating Cen Sen did she truly feel, subconsciously, that she and Ji Mingshu were on the same starting line.

Those were the times she missed most.

Li Wenyin left. After issuing an apology announcement declaring the halt of film production, she departed indefinitely.

But as Jiang Chun said, once a green tea bitch, always a bitch. Even in her film suspension announcement, Li Wenyin left a thought-provoking final sentence:

“Not being able to put it on paper or bring it to the screen is my regret. But no matter what, those were the times I miss the most.”

Initially, fans were pitying Li Wenyin for her bad luck, but she suddenly linked the book cancellation and film suspension herself, making people wonder: were these targeting her all along?

The more people thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed. How could it be such a coincidence that first the book couldn’t be published, and then the film had to be suspended?

Curious individuals traced back through her previous articles to investigate the prototype of her first love. Given that Ji Mingshu’s social circle wasn’t completely impenetrable, insiders soon subtly pointed the way—Li Wenyin’s first love prototype was none other than “Static Sound Master’s” husband, who had recently caused a citywide sensation, the current CEO of Junyi Group, Cen Sen.

Cen Sen had public information available online, but it was just inconsequential content like age, education, and work experience; his face had never been shown.

But the less his face was shown, the more curious people became.

In Li Wenyin’s article, she described her first love’s appearance as unparalleled, practically a male protagonist straight out of a campus romance novel.

And this campus romance male lead had grown up to become the CEO that girls loved most in CEO novels, who flew into a rage for the beauty’s sake, removing hot searches and deleting posts for his gorgeous wife, with the group’s official Weibo account posting multiple messages seeking justice for his wife.

One man and two women had written two novels—this was truly too intriguing!

As soon as Li Wenyin posted what she called her final Weibo, while the public was curious, Ji Mingshu was nearly furious to death.

Overnight, countless Li Wenyin fans sent her private messages asking if she had interfered in Li Wenyin and Cen Sen’s relationship, whether her conscience hurt, if her marriage to Cen Sen was a family arrangement, and what was the point of living with someone who didn’t love her…

The key issue was that Cen Sen was still sleeping soundly beside her, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist! She couldn’t even sit up to kick him!

Ji Mingshu already had a bit of morning grumpiness and was too lazy to think further, so she typed furiously:

“Since childhood, I’ve learned many etiquette lessons. Teachers would tell me what not to do. Don’t curse—that’s bad manners; don’t confront people directly—that only shows poor quality; don’t nitpick over small matters—be tolerant and open-minded.

“I’ve always believed that private conflicts should be resolved face-to-face between the two people involved, not brought to the internet for spectators to judge. But Ms. Li seems to have counted on my psychology of not wanting to tear off our masks in public, taking my repeated tolerance as capital for your increasing encroachment.

“I want to ask, Ms. Li has repeatedly emphasized that her first love is married and that she doesn’t want to disturb him, yet despite the concerned party’s repeated requests not to distort facts through books and films, you still stubbornly insist on selling your so-called first love sentiments. Don’t you feel that the phrase ‘hypocritical’ was custom-made for you?

“I hope Ms. Li will respect herself and stop disrupting my husband’s and my life, putting an end to this world-class white lotus drama here. I also hope that no one will ever encounter an exceptional ex who writes ‘My Ex Got Married,’ gets it trending, and constantly needs to publish books and make films to reminisce when they are happily getting married. Li Wenyin”