Chapter 6: Cherishing Life

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A flicker of contemplation crossed Gu Yan’s eyes as he silently studied me for a few seconds.
“Jiang Dian, you want me to help you?”
I answered honestly, “Yes, I want senior to assist me. But I believe this is a path beneficial to both of us.”
“Good,” Gu Yan nodded, “I can help you.”
He extended his hand. “I hope our cooperation goes smoothly.”
I smiled softly and shook his cold hand.

After forming the partnership with Gu Yan, I felt much lighter.
We exchanged contact information; I sent a handshake emoji, and he replied with the same.
There was no small talk.
I didn’t know what Gu Yan had done, but when I returned to the set on the third day, the atmosphere shifted the moment I stepped in.
“Miss Jiang, Brother Wang arranged for me to do your makeup,” the makeup artist said respectfully, sitting beside me with a small kit.
Feigning surprise, I said, “Didn’t Brother Wang say the budget was tight, and that us minor roles have to do our own makeup?”
I covered my lips with slender fingers, adopting a somewhat affected tone, but my bright, glistening eyes made the act convincing.
When looking up at someone, a slight tilt of the head with eyes gazing upward can make one appear vulnerable and pitiful.
It was a trick I knew well.
When I was with Fu Shuhua, whenever he took out his frustrations on me over business matters, I’d look at him just like that.
Although harsh with words, he would relent by the second time, retreating to the bedside to smoke while watching me in disarray.
“Jiang Dian, you should thank those eyes of yours—they saved you,” I mocked inwardly.
Fu Shuhua was a man with obvious likes and dislikes and an overbearing ego.
With some observation and a little scheming, he was easily controlled.
The makeup artist, inexperienced, was left speechless.
Producer Brother Wang quickly stepped forward, offering me a cup of coffee and smoothing things over. “Hey, didn’t we sort this out a few days ago? Lily, take Miss Jiang to the makeup room! Why are you painting her here? There’s a makeup room inside.”
There was always a makeup room on set, but it was reserved for leads; even if it was free, minor roles like us weren’t allowed.
I grabbed my bag and followed Lily into the makeup room, feeling various eyes on me along the way.
Some were disdainful, others envious, and some full of resentment.
I noticed them all but pretended to be oblivious.
The day’s filming went unusually smoothly—no deliberate difficulties, no added scenes to humiliate me.
The director’s attitude turned a complete 180, showering me with praise.
Those who previously acted snide and tried to pick fights now treated me with utmost respect; some even approached during breaks to offer shoulder massages, which I politely declined.
I sent Gu Yan a playful emoji on our chat app.

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Of course, I knew why they acted this way. These people were fair-weather friends, swaying with the wind.
Chicken Brother had been busy for days and only hurried over to pick me up at quitting time.
The moment he saw me, he dragged me into the car without a word.
“Jiang Dian, you’re reckless!” he said anxiously.
I didn’t respond, calmly touching up my makeup and sipping the iced Americano Brother Wang had prepared before answering lightly,
“Chicken Brother, what’s wrong? I’ve always valued my life—you know that better than anyone.”
“Value your life? Ha! If you knew what that meant, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with Gu Yan! Tell me, what’s really going on between you and Gu Yan?!”
Chicken Brother was genuinely worried and fired questions at me relentlessly.
I raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise, “Nothing really. I was just catching up with senior. He knows my situation and wants to help. That’s all.”
My casual tone only irritated Chicken Brother more.
“Catching up? Don’t fool me! Jiang Dian, you and a man—I don’t believe you’re just honestly catching up.”
I knew what I was to Chicken Brother: a loose woman, a toy of Fu Shuhua.
Nonchalantly painting my nails, I said lightly, “So what if I am? I need a patron, but that patron doesn’t have to be Fu Shuhua.”
“Jiang Dian, I advise you to stop! Cut things off with Fu Shuhua before he finds out! He’s not someone to be trifled with. You’re playing with fire! If you want to die, don’t drag me down with you!”
“Playing with fire? Drag me down?” I put down the nail polish, smiling faintly and looking at him.
“Chicken Brother, get this straight—who’s dragging who down? Fu Shuhua is surrounded by all kinds of women, and with his fiancée coming soon, staying with him would only hasten my demise! I just want to live. Is that so wrong?”
Chicken Brother was left speechless, then sighed helplessly.
“Mr. Fu has been good to you… Jiang Dian, take care of yourself.”
I watched his retreating figure as he made a call, a faint smile playing on my lips as I lifted my vividly red nails.
With Fu Shuhua’s network and influence in the industry, nothing escapes his ears.
He must be angry; otherwise, why would Chicken Brother disappear from my sight for days?
But so what? I knew there would come a day to leave, and with Fu Shuhua’s temperament, the parting wouldn’t be graceful.
On the fourth day, I received a call from an unknown number; the voice was as cold as ice shards.
“Jiang Dian, eight o’clock tonight, the usual place.” It was Fu Shuhua.
“No time,” I said bluntly, refusing.
A moment of silence, then Fu Shuhua hissed through clenched teeth,
“Jiang Dian, you better not cross my bottom line!”
“Bottom line?” I scoffed.
If his bottom line was trampling others’ dignity underfoot, then so be it—I’d challenge it.
Without hesitation, I hung up, cutting off his rage.
But I had underestimated Fu Shuhua’s madness.

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He somehow found out my hotel address and came straight to my door.
The moment I opened it, he appeared out of nowhere and locked us both inside.
“Jiang Dian, you’ve got some nerve!” Fu Shuhua grabbed my wrist, forcing me to press my back against the door.
Click—
The sound of the lock snapping shut.
His eyes blazed with fury, his breath hot enough to suffocate me.
His tall frame pressed against me like a slab of concrete.
Fear crept in as I struggled desperately to shake off his grip.
“Fu Shuhua, let me go!”
This man, usually reserved, had made no personal moves in the six months since we parted, though I always knew he wanted me back.
But even so, he never came himself—he sent Chicken Brother or others to handle matters delicately.
I hadn’t expected him to come in person; this sudden change threw everything into chaos.
Sensing my panic, Fu Shuhua smirked triumphantly.
“You want me to let go?” His long leg pressed under my skirt, tightening his hold until I could barely breathe.
“Jiang Dian, do you think getting close to Gu Yan will make you a phoenix on a high branch? Don’t forget—you still bear my mark!”
He tore at my new long skirt roughly and without rhythm.
The cologne on him enveloped me completely.
I fought back, gasping for air, but his strength was overwhelming, pushing me further into submission.
Behind me, the crisp sound of a belt buckle being undone rang out.
I closed my eyes, bracing for the torment to begin.
Tears streamed down my face.
His hand gripped the nape of my neck; I tried to turn and look at him, hoping my eyes—the ones he adored most—might win some mercy, but he held me firmly.
“Jiang Dian, I advise you to behave. If I’m in a good mood, I might let you bleed less this time.”
That familiar, burning touch pressed against me, and I felt utterly helpless, like a lump of clay that could never stand.
It was over. Again, the same ending.
Just as he was about to succeed, my phone suddenly rang.
I felt the man behind me hesitate, then release me and answer the call.
Fresh air rushed into my lungs—I felt like I had survived a disaster.
At the same time, I caught a glimpse of the name on his phone’s screen.
It was Liang Lei…