She Wants to Divorce Me

“Your other half has followed you here.”

Standing beside Chang Yu, Qiao Xi glimpsed Ji Yaoguang’s movement from the corner of her eye, slightly narrowing her eyes with a smile. As Chang Yu’s manager and assistant, as well as a close friend in personal life, she understood the situation between Chang Yu and Ji Yaoguang as clearly as if looking in a mirror. In work matters, Chang Yu was relatively low-maintenance, except for her stubborn habit of returning home at 7 PM sharp, regardless of filming schedules. As for personal matters? Qiao Xi glanced at Ji Yaoguang again, murmuring softly, “She’s not that bad. I’ve seen your desk covered with papers bearing her name. It seems you can’t let go. Why not give each other another chance?” Her voice grew increasingly quiet, finally falling silent under Chang Yu’s cold glare. As Ji Yaoguang approached, Qiao Xi tactfully withdrew, giving the couple some privacy. After all, they were on set; things wouldn’t get too out of hand. She trusted Chang Yu to maintain that much decorum.

“Why are you here?” Chang Yu asked rhetorically, having already been informed by the director about Ji Yaoguang’s addition to the cast. She had memorized every character in the script, big and small. During their last phone call, she had heard Ji Yaoguang’s tearful voice and had resisted the urge to go find her, tossing the phone aside. It had been a long time since this person had cried, and hearing that voice had pained her heart. Now, looking at that radiantly smiling face, there was no trace of sorrow. Chang Yu inwardly clicked her tongue twice, feeling both pleased and displeased. Fortunately, her performance control was impeccable; to Ji Yaoguang’s eyes, she maintained a consistently cold expression.

“As if you don’t know why I’m here,” Ji Yaoguang thought to herself, but didn’t dare say it aloud to Chang Yu. She composed her smile, trying to straighten her posture to appear more confident before Chang Yu. Clearing her throat, she said seriously, “To act.”

“Act? As extra number N?” Chang Yu couldn’t help but comment. She didn’t understand what Ji Yaoguang’s manager was thinking, allowing her to take such a role. Initially, Ji Yaoguang had desperately wanted to enter the entertainment industry, but once in, she relied solely on her face to bluff her way through, never bothering to hone her acting skills. It was as if she were just playing around. If she didn’t take it seriously and remained this casual, why insist on entering this circle? Chang Yu’s delicate features suddenly creased into a frown. Looking at Ji Yaoguang’s face, she felt a deep sense of helplessness. Some words came to her lips but were swallowed back. This wasn’t the place for such conversations. After a period of calm, her heart had reached a relatively balanced state—until Ji Yaoguang appeared. Taking a deep breath, she didn’t wait for Ji Yaoguang’s response before turning and walking away, leaving only a slim silhouette behind.

Ji Yaoguang hung her head, momentarily dejected, but quickly rallied, clenching her fists to cheer herself on. Suddenly, someone tapped her shoulder from behind, startling her. It was her manager, Su Ci, who had finished talking with the director. In fact, she had finished earlier and had been playing with her phone nearby, observing Ji Yaoguang’s interaction with Chang Yu without interfering. Seeing her client fail to win back her wife, Su Ci spoke in a businesslike tone, “I’m not staying here with you. I’m heading back to the company. Do you want me to find you a personal assistant?”

Ji Yaoguang blinked, “Do you feel tired of playing mother hen?”

Su Ci was momentarily speechless, then waved her hand resignedly, “You don’t want one? Then forget it.” In fact, she had discussed this with Ji Yaoguang long ago, but Ji Yaoguang was reluctant to have anyone close to her or enter her home. She wanted to keep her distance from women, and men were absolutely out of the question. In her words, even the most honest and kind-hearted man might be tempted by her beauty, and she couldn’t risk that. Unable to change her mind, Su Ci had to admit that Ji Yaoguang wasn’t helpless in daily life. She could manage her own meals, and even Cook, Manager for Chang Yu. Unfortunately, people nowadays preferred things like broccoli, giving her no chance to showcase her skills. She had once acted in a food-themed TV drama where she played a master chef’s daughter, inheriting all his culinary skills. Ji Yaoguang had claimed that was her true self.

When bored, Ji Yaoguang liked to browse Weibo. After surveying the set, she saw Li Ou, Director already briefing the main actors. Feeling uninvolved, she sat down nearby, crossing her legs and swiftly scrolling through her phone screen. The December weather was cold, but thankfully the set was well-heated. As a controversial figure, Ji Yaoguang frequently trended on social media, sometimes even liking posts about herself on a whim. Suddenly noticing the trending topic #JiYaoguangJoinsThecast#, she frowned slightly and quickly clicked on it. The top post was a headline article: “Ji Yaoguang Joins ‘The Treacherous Courtier’ Cast, Willingly Degrades Herself to Play an Extra.”

“Ji Yaoguang may be eye candy, but she’s high-class eye candy. She could play lead or supporting roles to plague TV dramas, but even in films, she wouldn’t stoop to playing a nameless extra maid that even D-list actors would scorn, right? This editor suspects something fishy. Hasn’t there been a lot of buzz lately about her and Goddess Chang? Goddess Chang is also in this production. According to inside sources, the beautiful Ji is actually chasing her wife across a thousand miles…” Ji Yaoguang read this passage aloud softly. “Inside sources, indeed. But the analysis is quite accurate. Isn’t she here to chase her wife across a thousand miles? Though Chang Yu is giving her the cold shoulder.”

“Hey, you find this gossip tasty too? But the main characters are right here,” an unfamiliar voice intruded. Ji Yaoguang instinctively turned to look at the person beside her. It was a beautiful woman, though her upturned lips held a hint of wildness and uninhibitedness. The woman seemed to recognize Ji Yaoguang as well, a flash of embarrassment crossing her eyes before she quickly leaned in closer, lowering her voice to gossip, “So, are you really here to win back your wife?”

Judging by her appearance, she should be an actress, but Ji Yaoguang wasn’t familiar with the cast and couldn’t place this stranger. She looked the woman up and down, pursing her lips without answering. She thought the other would sense her displeasure and tactfully withdraw, but instead, the woman interpreted her gaze as inquiry. She didn’t leave, but extended a hand to Ji Yaoguang, introducing herself frankly, “Cheng Henian, an extra in the production.”

Such a beautiful woman as just an extra? What a waste. With a good manager, her potential could quickly be tapped. Ji Yaoguang stared at the outstretched hand without shaking it. After a moment of scattered thoughts, she suddenly exclaimed, “Cheng Henian?”

“Yes, Cheng Henian,” the woman withdrew her hand, showing no sign of embarrassment.

Ji Yaoguang was certain she had never met this person, but she recalled the name. Her best friend, Bian Yuting, had mentioned it more than once. Displaying rare musical talent from a young age, at eighteen she had gone to study at a world-class music academy. Five years later, upon returning to China, she won the 38th Golden Melody Award with her song “Prosperous Age,” later becoming the youngest recipient of the Heavenly Voice Award. She had risen as a new star in the music industry, with people saying she would become the next “Queen of Pop.” But in the blink of an eye, she had fallen from grace and was quickly forgotten. The reason lay in her sharp tongue, which had offended many with its merciless attacks. Once, when a senior artist said, “Such a beautiful face is wasted not acting,” she had retorted, “Such a long tongue is wasted not being in hell,” instantly infuriating that person. Bian Yuting’s most desired client as a manager was Cheng Henian, but she never gave Bian Yuting the time of day.

Feeling Ji Yaoguang’s gaze upon her, Cheng Henian snapped her fingers and chuckled, “A D-list little corpse, passionate about being an extra; a top-tier voice actress, fond of dubbing some indescribable yuri radio dramas.”

“…” Ji Yaoguang blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. She anxiously glanced towards Li Ou, Director, who was gesticulating wildly while talking incessantly, looking rather comical. Li Yaoyao, that little ingénue, stood beside Chang Yu, constantly leaning towards her. Ji Yaoguang felt angry, wanting to yank Li Yaoyao away and fling her off the planet, but in reality, she could only sit nearby, anxious and unable to do anything.

“Hey, did you and Chang Yu really break up? You came here to play an extra just to win her back?” Cheng Henian’s gossipy curiosity hadn’t subsided. She had noticed Ji Yaoguang’s agitated gaze, and her eyes darkened slightly, taking on a joking tone, “If you two have really split up, remember to announce it soon. I’d like to pursue Goddess Chang myself!”

Hearing this, Ji Yaoguang immediately flared up. She whipped her head around, glaring fiercely at Cheng Henian, “Don’t you dare!” Why were people in this production one more annoying than the next? Li Yaoyao’s ingénue act was bad enough, and now this eccentric Cheng Henian had appeared. How many people were lurking in the shadows, eyeing Chang Yu? On one hand, she felt proud of Chang Yu’s excellence, but on the other, it brought anxiety and jealousy, a bitter taste slowly spreading in her heart. Ji Yaoguang felt her anxiety rising again, a surge of anger building up. But when she looked up and caught Chang Yu’s glance in their direction, that resentment instantly dissipated.

She’s looking at me! Ji Yaoguang’s inner self began to scream. She didn’t care whether Chang Yu’s look was intentional or not.