After Wen Liang finished speaking, Jiang Xian nodded to Chen Die in acknowledgment and went with Wen Liang to sit elsewhere.

Many people around were still observing Chen Die. Earlier they had merely been curious, but after Wen Liang’s display, their gazes nearly pierced through Chen Die.

Ye Chu Qing was the same. She pulled Chen Die’s arm as they sat down, moving her chair closer: “Are you two living together?”

“Huh?” Chen Die was startled. “No.”

“Then what did he mean by taking you home? It sounds like you’re living together.” Ye Chu Qing narrowed her eyes slightly, suddenly realizing, “This dog of a man is so scheming!”

His words earlier weren’t spoken softly, but only she and that Jiang Xian guy could hear clearly. He was deliberately being ambiguous for the other man to hear.

Chen Die picked up a piece of meat with her chopsticks and stuffed it into Ye Chu Qing’s mouth.

“By the way,” Ye Chu Qing asked, “what’s your relationship with that guy just now?”

“Just a friend I knew before.”

Ye Chu Qing raised an eyebrow, looking sideways at her: “Just that?”

Chen Die smiled: “What else?”

“Then why did you call him so coquettishly? I thought he was your ex-boyfriend.”

“…How was I being coquettish?” In all her life, Chen Die had rarely been described as coquettish.

“‘Brother Jiang Xian,’ don’t you know men can’t resist when girls call them ‘brother’? Especially someone as beautiful as you. In severe cases, it can directly—”

“Have a strawberry,” Chen Die stuffed her mouth again, saying helplessly, “I’ve known him since I was little, so I just call him what I always have.”

“You’re speaking without intention, but others are listening with purpose.”

“Hmm?” Chen Die blinked. “You mean Wen Liang?”

“Obviously. You’re done for,” Ye Chu Qing winked suggestively at her. “He doesn’t look like someone easy to deal with.”

Ye Chu Qing’s words always seemed to hide suggestive topics. Chen Die couldn’t bear to listen anymore and elbowed her: “Be serious, we’re here to attend a funeral.”

It was laughable.

When Huai Yuan had been so prominent in life, yet at his funeral, there wasn’t a single person crying for him.

Those who would cry for him—one had died nineteen years ago, and the other…

Chen Die looked at Wen Liang.

The man stood among the crowd, dressed in black, looking no different from usual. Chen Die could guess that some people were probably inwardly criticizing Wen Liang for being cold-blooded.

But last night when Wen Liang buried his face in her neck without moving, her neck had become wet in one spot.

His eyes were moist. Chen Die hadn’t said anything then, pretending not to notice.

The funeral ended.

Ye Chu Qing left with her parents first. Her mother was a former award-winning actress who had transitioned to directing. She knew Chen Die quite well and regarded her favorably, only today learning that her daughter was acquainted with her.

With Ye Chu Qing gone, Chen Die had no familiar faces left. Worried she might feel bored, Wen Liang walked over: “Do you want someone to take you home to rest first?”

“What about you?”

“I still need to wait a while here, but I’ll come find you later today,” Wen Liang said.

“Alright,” Chen Die didn’t mind. “Don’t tire yourself too much.”

Wen Liang smiled and reached out to ruffle her hair.

Chen Die returned to her apartment. She threw the clothes that had piled up over the past few days into the washing machine, then watched an episode of “Three Meals a Day” that she hadn’t had time to watch earlier. In the show, she and Lin Qing Ye were popular, and the bullet comments were all about the two of them, with many betting on when she would be angered to death by Lin Qing Ye.

By the time the show ended, it was already dark. Chen Die was too lazy to order takeout and just made a simple vegetable soup for dinner.

After eating, she looked at her phone. Wen Liang hadn’t sent her any messages.

What a dog of a man.

They’d only been together for a few days.

Chen Die pouted, not messaging him either. She washed and put away the dishes, and unknowingly fell asleep on the sofa.

The room was a bit cold, so her sleep wasn’t very good.

Suddenly, a weight pressed down on her, and warmth enveloped her body.

Chen Die opened her eyes drowsily and saw Wen Liang’s face up close.

Tall and long-legged as he was, he was now curled up uncomfortably, holding her on the small sofa, looking quite pitiful.

Chen Die could barely breathe under his weight. She stared at him for a good while before coming to her senses. She raised her arms to hug his back and asked: “Is everything taken care of?”

Wen Liang made an “mm” sound: “Let me hold you for a while.”

As he spoke, he lowered his head and buried it in Chen Die’s neck again, taking a deep breath as if smelling something, then slowly exhaling his hot breath.

Chen Die’s neck tickled from his actions, making her shrink back.

Moreover, his posture was too much—not only was it hard to breathe, but they were so close that Chen Die’s chest was pressed tightly against him, making her uncomfortable.

Feeling discomfort, she pushed Wen Liang.

Wen Liang ignored her, maintaining his position, and rebuked her: “Don’t move.”

“I can’t breathe,” Chen Die said.

Only then did he raise his back slightly, move away a bit, and then press back down.

It was finally a bit more comfortable.

Wen Liang was being very docile at the moment, leaning on her without moving. Chen Die raised her hand to gently stroke his hair, saying softly: “Your hair is getting a bit long.”

“Mm,” his voice sounded somewhat sleepy.

“It feels nice to touch like this, not as prickly as before.”

Wen Liang laughed into her neck, responding casually: “Then I won’t cut it so short anymore, I’ll keep it a bit longer.”

Chen Die thought for a moment: “But you still look more handsome with shorter hair.”

“I look handsome no matter what.”

This was the first time Chen Die had heard him say something so narcissistic. She couldn’t help but laugh: “Since when did you become so full of yourself?”

Wen Liang pinched her waist lightly several times, as if enjoying the feeling, then kept his hand there motionless, saying languidly: “Haven’t you liked me for a long time?”

“…”

Chen Die pinched his waist, but he wasn’t ticklish and showed no reaction.

Just as she was about to speak, Wen Liang’s phone rang.

He didn’t bother to get up from Chen Die. He just took out his phone from his pocket—it was Fu Wan Mei calling.

Wen Liang glanced at it, swiped to answer, put it on speaker, tossed it aside, and then lay back down on Chen Die, very casually pinching her buttocks.

This shameless dog.

Fu Wan Mei’s furious voice came through: “Wen Liang, how dare you change your father’s burial site to Lin Qian Cemetery! You unfilial son, since your father passed away, you’ve only cared about the company and never greeted the guests, leaving everything to me. And now, you’ve taken all the advantages! Even nineteen years after your mother’s death, you still want to use her to gain benefits!!”

Although Chen Die didn’t understand what Lin Qian Cemetery meant, hearing the latter part made her angry. She immediately wanted to sit up and argue with Fu Wan Mei.

Those words were far too harsh!

But just as she was about to sit up, Wen Liang pressed her back down, and then her earlobe felt hot.

Chen Die instantly lost her strength, her body stiffening.

Wen Liang was still biting her ear.

Fu Wan Mei’s cursing voice continued, but Chen Die could no longer hear it. She had no mind to listen either, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed by his actions.

Then Wen Liang spoke, almost whispering, his voice light and tingling, with a warning tone: “Would you like to explain to me about that so-called brother of yours?”

Chen Die’s ears turned completely red, but she couldn’t speak loudly: “What brother?”

Wen Liang raised his hand, holding a thin piece of paper between his two fingers. Chen Die looked at it—it was the business card Jiang Xian had given her.

…When did this bastard take it from her pocket?

“…I already explained to you then, he’s just a brother I knew from before.”

Chen Die didn’t understand why they had to be like this—Wen Liang pressing down on her as if she had done something wrong, while Fu Wan Mei’s harsh cursing continued nearby, and she was whispering with Wen Liang.

It was too embarrassing.

Chen Die frowned slightly and raised her knee to kick him: “Turn off the phone first!”

Wen Liang snorted with laughter, finally giving her a reprieve as he reached out to pick up the phone: “Fu Wan Mei.”

Those three words carried magic; Fu Wan Mei, who had been ranting non-stop, immediately fell silent.

“I advise you to think clearly about your current situation. You know I have plenty of ways to make sure you’re left with none of those shares you have. Think about how you’ll spend the rest of your life before you start cursing.”

His voice was cold, carrying an inherent aura that sent chills down one’s spine.

But while he was saying those words, his hand was still pinching Chen Die’s earlobe, making the atmosphere somewhat indescribable.

After he finished, without waiting for Fu Wan Mei’s response, he directly hung up, his dark eyes meeting Chen Die’s as he continued to fixate on the previous issue.

He poked Chen Die’s face with his index finger, saying one word with each poke: “Still calling him brother?”

“…”

Chen Die grabbed his finger, saying helplessly: “He’s a year older than me, no wait, one or two years, I forgot.”

Wen Liang bit her chin: “After so many years without seeing him, you still remember his name.”

Chen Die’s chin hurt from his bite, and she immediately got annoyed: “Wen Liang, are you a dog? Get up and stay away from me!”

He didn’t listen, so Chen Die pushed him, resulting in him gripping her wrists and pinning them above her head. He looked down at her, sneering: “You’re even scolding me for him?”

“I’m scolding you because you bit me!” Chen Die couldn’t reason with him.

Wen Liang held her wrists with one hand, crumpled the business card into a ball, and threw it toward the trash can. It followed a perfect parabolic trajectory, landing in the bin, officially becoming garbage.

“Are you sick or what!” Chen Die glared at him.

“I told you long ago not to bring any brothers or sisters into the picture, yet you still called him so happily, even ‘Brother Jiang Xian’.”

Wen Liang imitated her tone, looking contemptuous.

This man made no effort to hide his jealousy, and he was so domineering, pinning her hands and questioning her.

“That brother is just a normal brother, without any other meaning. I’ve called him that since I was little.”

Wen Liang raised an eyebrow, still dissatisfied: “I’ve never heard you call me like that.”

“I have, didn’t I used to call you ‘Brother Wen Liang’?”

“Is ‘Brother Wen Liang’ the same as ‘Brother Jiang Xian’?”

“…”

Chen Die recalled what Ye Chu Qing had said earlier and finally understood the issue.

This dog was jealous that Jiang Xian had an extra “brother” in his address.

When Ye Chu Qing had just told her that men couldn’t resist girls calling them “brothers,” Chen Die hadn’t thought much of it, just thinking that some men might be like that, but surely not unusual men like Wen Liang.

He might even find it disgusting and sappy.

But now…

Chen Die looked at Wen Liang helplessly.

Ah, he was just as vulgar as other men.

“What, do you want me to call you ‘Brother Wen Liang’ now?”

Wen Liang made no effort to hide his perverse taste: “It’s fine to drop the name too.”

“…”

Vulgar, too vulgar!

Chen Die rolled her eyes, pushed him away, and finally sat up from the sofa. Her neck had become sore from the pressure.

Chen Die changed the subject: “Are you staying at my place tonight?”

“Mm.”

She got up and went to the bedroom. Wen Liang poured himself a glass of water and was about to follow her, but just as he reached the doorway, Chen Die came out carrying a quilt and stuffed it into his arms.

Chen Die: “You can sleep on the sofa tonight.”

Wen Liang raised an eyebrow: “Hmm?”

“What ‘hmm’? Who told you we could sleep together after reconciling? Normal couples need to be evaluated for a period before sleeping together. The other day was an exception—I only let you sleep in the bed because you were acting pitiful.”

Wen Liang couldn’t be bothered with her twisted logic. In his concept, there was no reason why he couldn’t sleep with someone he had finally managed to win back.

“What are you upset about now?”

“I’m not upset,” Chen Die pulled the door. “This is the dating process.”

Wen Liang stepped forward, also pressing against the door.

Unfortunately, Chen Die’s strength was no match for his. He was still holding the quilt, and with his arm against the door, she couldn’t push it closed.

Usually, her strength wasn’t this weak.

The two faced off for a moment, neither yielding.

Finally, with no other option, Chen Die suddenly stepped forward, moving close to Wen Liang.

Her movement was so quick and unexpected. Wen Liang looked at her face up close—her beautiful fox-like eyes stared directly at him, slightly upturned at the corners, mysteriously displaying a seductive charm. Her black lashes fluttered twice, each one curled, distinct, and long.

Many viewers and fans said that Chen Die’s beauty had an aggressive quality.

Wen Liang confirmed this once more. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at her, unable to look away.

Then Chen Die leaned to his ear, her red lips parting softly: “Brother Wen Liang.”

She deliberately made her voice light and soft, as if intentionally bewitching him. It floated into his ear and effortlessly snapped a nerve.

Chen Die took advantage of his distraction, pushed him away forcefully, and successfully closed and locked the door.

Wen Liang stood at the doorway, not moving for quite a while. He hadn’t expected that Chen Die’s “Brother Wen Liang” would have such power, instantly making half his body go limp and his blood rush downward.

Aroused by those four words, he was left standing like an idiot at the door while Chen Die successfully retreated after teasing him.

Although there would be plenty of time in the future, after so many months of abstinence, Wen Liang was indeed desperate for release. Under the stimulation of that “Brother Wen Liang,” he could hardly contain himself.

Many past scenes rushed into his mind.

Wen Liang stood at her bedroom door for a long time before finally lowering his head and cursing.

It wasn’t until the next day that Chen Die understood why Fu Wan Mei had called to curse the night before.

The next day, according to regulations, was the day for Wen Huai Yuan’s burial. Early in the morning, Wen Liang took Chen Die to Lin Qian Cemetery, though she stayed in the car.

Lin Qian Cemetery was an old burial ground.

After Shen Yun Shu passed away, she was buried there. Now, Wen Liang had ordered the two graves to be merged, burying them together.

No wonder Fu Wan Mei had been so angry last night.

By rights, she was Wen Huai Yuan’s legal wife, yet he was to be buried with Shen Yun Shu, leaving her alone.

In ancient times, this would have meant she was merely a concubine.

Wen Liang did this purely to upset Fu Wan Mei. The outside world would probably guess it was required in Wen Huai Yuan’s will, and who knows how they would evaluate Fu Wan Mei.

The ceremony soon ended. After the Wen family’s relatives bid farewell to Wen Liang and Fu Wan Mei, they left. Shortly after, Fu Wan Mei left too. She had held on until now, which was already more than enough. Unwilling to stay any longer to disgust herself, she left with Wen Qian as soon as everyone was gone, no longer keeping up appearances.

Only Wen Liang remained in the silent, empty cemetery.

Only then did Chen Die get out of the car and climb the steps one by one.

Wen Liang stood before the tombstone. It had been replaced with a new one, engraved with a couplet for the couple’s joint burial, along with photos of Wen Huai Yuan and Shen Yun Shu.

In the photo, Shen Yun Shu was only in her thirties, still a very beautiful woman, while Wen Huai Yuan was nearly sixty.

Outsiders looking at the photos would see this as the story of an early deceased wife. They might casually remark on the man’s faithfulness, that after so many years, he was still buried with his early deceased wife.

After death, outsiders can evaluate as they please, based on what they see.

Chen Die stood behind Wen Liang, looking at Shen Yun Shu on the tombstone for a while, then said: “You look more like your mother.”

Wen Liang turned his head to look at her, laughing lazily.

Chen Die stepped forward and held Wen Liang’s hand.

His hand was a bit cold. He seemed to freeze for a moment when she grasped it, then firmly grasped hers in return.

Wen Liang lowered his gaze to look at Shen Yun Shu’s photo, his gaze and voice both calm: “You loved him for so long, now he’s come to accompany you.”

Chen Die suddenly understood why Wen Liang wanted to merge their graves.

“Auntie, don’t worry,” Chen Die said softly. “I’ll take good care of Wen Liang.”

She wasn’t a fragile princess, nor did she need him to cut through thorns or slay dragons for her. Chen Die had learned from him since childhood—she could wield the sword herself.

Wen Liang raised his hand, pulled her into his embrace, and after a moment said: “Let’s go.”

Wen Liang had a troubling matter recently.

After successfully winning Chen Dieback, now it was how to get her to agree to return home. He had mentioned it several times without success; Chen Die still lived in her apartment.

Then she went to record the show again.

On the weekend, Chen Die returned to Yan City after filming a new episode of “Three Meals a Day.”

Originally, Wen Liang had said he would pick her up, but Ye Chu Qing intercepted halfway, saying she had something to discuss with Chen Die. In Ye Chu Qing’s words, stealing Wen Liang’s girlfriend now was revenge for his past humiliation of her.

So Chen Die didn’t let Wen Liang come. Besides, there were many fans at the airport waiting to greet her, and it wouldn’t be good to be seen together too often.

Chen Die waved goodbye to the fans who had come to meet her, walked out of the airport, and saw Ye Chu Qing’s car.

“Where shall we eat?” Ye Chu Qing put on her sunglasses, humming a tune, looking like she was in a very good mood.

“Anywhere that’s not too greasy is fine,” Chen Die was now familiar with her and no longer restrained herself. She leaned back in the car seat. “Yesterday during the show recording, I ate something too oily and felt sick.”

“You control your diet too much, that’s why you feel sick just eating something a bit oily. Let’s have Japanese food today. I heard there’s a new place on International Avenue that’s supposed to be very good.”

“Okay,” Chen Die never had many requirements about what to eat.

They entered the Japanese restaurant, ordered a set meal for two, and added an extra plate of sashimi.

“By the way, my mom is planning to direct a new drama soon, and she’s quite interested in having you as the female lead. She even mentioned you yesterday,” Ye Chu Qing’s mother had transitioned from acting to directing.

Chen Die remembered that during university, they had specific classes analyzing her award-winning performance.

“That sounds good. In a while, ‘Three Meals a Day’ will be wrapping up, and my schedule after that is all open. What kind of drama is it?”

“I’m not sure either. I guess when they formally start confirming actors, my mom will contact you,” Ye Chu Qing dipped a piece of sashimi, then remembered something: “Have you heard about Chen Shu Yuan recently?”

“No,” Chen Die looked up. “Why would I inquire about her?”

Ye Chu Qing raised her chin, winking at her: “A friend of mine in the industry recently organized a micro-film director competition, and she participated.”

“Oh,” Chen Die wasn’t surprised by this. “She studied directing in university, so it’s normal for her to participate in such a competition.”

“I mean, if you don’t want her to participate, I can directly make sure her work doesn’t pass the preliminary review.”

Chen Die paused, then smiled: “Why would you do that? Are you going to misuse your authority?”

Ye Chu Qing shrugged indifferently: “This competition is commercial, and I’m involved too. I went to discuss the contract with Chen Shao earlier about this—Chen Shao even invested in the competition. So we’re all our people; a small preliminary review can be resolved with the flick of a finger.”

Chen Die teased her: “Now you’re referring to Chen Shao as ‘our people’?”

“…Just tell me if you want me to do it or not.”

“No need,” Chen Die propped her chin. “I’m quite curious to see what waves she can make.”

Chen Shu Yuan had lost to Chen Die too many times over these twenty-odd years.

She appeared to be glorious and proud, but in reality, she walked on thin ice. Chen Die, on the other hand, had countless suitors from childhood to adulthood, had better grades than her, and still lived comfortably thanks to Wen Liang.

Even her monthly allowance had a limit, but Chen Die did not. Wen Liang directly gave her a black gold card, at a time when Chen Die didn’t even know what a black gold card was.

Chen Die had never truly taken her seriously, including in this micro-film competition.

However, Chen Shu Yuan performed quite well this time.

Her micro-film was called “Plum Wine,” with a distinctive style. After not being manually rejected in the preliminary review, it sailed through to the finals.

The finals would be determined by audience votes. The champion would receive sponsorship from the investor, Yi Ming Entertainment, to produce it as a feature film. The second and third places would also receive 500,000 yuan in prize money.

The marketing for “Plum Wine” was done very well, probably with Chen Shu Yuan collaborating with a marketing company. But in this industry, marketing was the norm and standard operation.

On the first day of the final voting, it shot to the top of trending topics with praise.

“Plum Wine” became the micro-film with the most views and likes, quickly widening the gap with second place.

Ye Chu Qing sent Chen Die the link to “Plum Wine.”

Chen Die clicked to watch it—a 20-minute short film that was indeed well-made. Even though Chen Die didn’t like her, this work genuinely made her see Chen Shu Yuan in a new light.

However, something felt off, though Chen Die didn’t analyze it closely.

Because Wen Liang had sent her a message, Chen Die swiped away her chat with Ye Chu Qing.

[Wen Liang: When does the shooting end?]

A few days ago, Fang Ruan had arranged a cosmetics endorsement for her, and Chen Die was now sitting in the photo studio.

[Chen Die: Still early, my manager will pick me up.]

Just after sending this message, Ye Chu Qing sent her a screenshot. From the image, it appeared to be an internal complaint received by the competition.

Anonymous report: Contestant No. 0819’s work “Plum Wine” is highly similar to Director Feng Zhi’s script “Autumn Water Embraces the Moon and Stars” created in 2001. Below are several comparisons I’ve made; the evidence is conclusive. I hope the event organizers can provide a public explanation as soon as possible.

Chen Die instantly knew why she had felt something odd when first watching “Plum Wine.”

In 2001, Director Feng Zhi had not yet achieved success with his breakthrough work, and was still unknown. “Autumn Water Embraces the Moon and Stars” was a work he created during that period.

But because it was an art film, incompatible with the dominant commercial films of the time, he couldn’t secure investment to shoot it, and it was eventually shelved.

Therefore, not many people knew about “Autumn Water Embraces the Moon and Stars,” and Feng Zhi had never mentioned it in public.

Chen Die knew about it because she had read this work when she first started university.

Now, seeing the comparisons in this report, Chen Die instantly recalled the plot details of “Autumn Water Embraces the Moon and Stars.”

Chen Shu Yuan’s plagiarism wasn’t completely foolish—she mixed several plot elements. But because the filming techniques deliberately resembled Feng’s, and Chen Die was very familiar with Feng’s directing style, it created that strange feeling.

[Ye Chu Qing: We checked the background of the reporter—it’s the contestant currently in second place for likes. They definitely won’t let this go.]

After all, first place meant investment of millions for a feature film production, while second place only received a 500,000 yuan prize.

Any ambitious person wouldn’t give up the chance for first place.

Sure enough, an hour later.

While the micro-film competition organizers were still investigating without issuing a public statement, topics like #”Plum Wine” Plagiarism# and #Micro-film Director Competition First Place# successively trended on hot searches.

????

Plagiarizing a famous director’s script, is she eager to die quickly?

@FengZhi@FengZhi@FengZhi@FengZhi@FengZhi

It’s plagiarized? Give me back my tears!

Chen Die looked around, then sent another message to Ye Chu Qing.

[Chen Die: What does your organizing committee plan to do?]

[Ye Chu Qing: As your sister on the organizing committee, what do you want us to do?]

Chen Die: …