The masses of netizens scrolled to Wen Nianshen's freshly posted update and finally found a reason to spit on her.
"Look at that smug face of hers—it's just Best Leading Actress, isn't it? That was nothing but dumb luck. Just wait—watch her cry when she can't pull off the same acting later!"
"It's just one award, isn't it? She's acted this long and only won this one award, right? Not even ashamed—look at those dedicated actors with good acting, racking up awards till their hands go limp. I'd say this is the only award she'll get in her whole life."
Not long after this person posted, many people liked it.
What horrified them most was that Wen Nianshen had actually liked it too.
"Has she lost it?"
"Her thought process has always been different. She's probably cursed us several times over in her head. Then again—she said there's a surprise. What could it be? Is she planning to shoot a new drama with Director Ruan?"
No matter how the netizens guessed, no matter how they cursed Wen Nianshen online, when the time came they all obediently posted up in front of their computers to watch the livestream. The most punctual of all were Wen Nianshen's anti-fans. They were especially eager—hoping tonight's Wen Nianshen would slip up and give them somewhere to spit.
Seeing A-Xin go up to accept her award, the netizens watching the stream were still extremely excited. Director Ruan was an excellent director they'd loved for many years. If only Director Ruan didn't collaborate with Wen Nianshen, they'd surely love her even more.
"Director Ruan really is amazing—every film she shoots wins something. Even without Best Director, there's Best Supporting, or Best Lead, male or female."
"You're not wrong—Director Ruan's my favorite. If only she didn't work with Wen Nianshen, I'd feel everything in the world was perfect."
Next, they witnessed Wen Nianshen go up to accept her award, wearing a blue gradient gown. Her flawless figure, paired with that exquisite face unchanged in ten years, looked all the more vivid and beautiful under the lights.
Cradling the trophy, she stood right beside A-Xin. Everyone saw her glance with a smile at the A-Xin beside her before she said, "To be able to win this award, I'm actually not the least bit surprised. While filming, I already knew I'd win."
The masses of netizens: "..." This woman really was as arrogant as ever—not a trace of the word "modesty" anywhere on her.
The presenter: "..." It was also his first time presenting an award to such an immodest actress. Remembering the other was Wen Nianshen, he grew unbothered—modesty, that sort of thing, had never been part of this woman.
"It was expected, but I'm still very happy," Wen Nianshen continued. "After all, this is the only award of my acting career."
The masses of netizens: "..." Truly thick-skinned! How could she say "the only award" so casually? She'd been in the business for a good ten or twenty years, and even being awarded only once, she could be this insufferable. They really wanted to see how she'd cry on the day Wen Nianshen flopped.
"Counting the time, it's been nearly twenty years since I debuted." Wen Nianshen's smile deepened. "I'm very grateful to everyone who's walked this road with me—those who like me, those who've helped me, and those who trash me. I remember all of you."
Anti-fans: "..." Never heard of thanking your anti-fans while accepting an award. Since she was being so courteous, they'd appropriately dial down their hate a little.
"Of course, the person I most want to thank is the Director Ruan standing beside me. Thank you for her companionship, her protection, and her tolerance." Wen Nianshen turned her gaze toward A-Xin. "I've called her Director Ruan in this circle for ten years. Today, I'd very much like to change how I address her."
A bad premonition rose in the masses of netizens' hearts. Wen Nianshen said companionship—the relationship between Director Ruan and her could indeed count as companionship. She said tolerance—with that arrogant, domineering, insatiable manner of hers, and Director Ruan so gentle, there surely was tolerance. But protection—what the heck? And Wen Nianshen saying she wanted to change how she addressed her—what was that supposed to mean?
The netizens kept their eyes glued to the screen, and saw Wen Nianshen turn her head toward the camera. "I have a few words I'd like to say to Director Ruan, so next, I'm going to turn off my earpiece mic. Once Director Ruan agrees, I'll share them with you."
The masses of netizens: Hey, hey, hey—whatever it is, can't you just say it out in the open? Don't go turning off your mic at the drop of a hat. Has this woman mistaken the awards stage for her own home? Wait, no—word is tonight's sponsorship has Wen Nianshen's name on it. Pah. This woman really is arrogant and crafty.
Not only were the netizens watching the stream curious; the actors on-site were all curious too—what secret was Wen Nianshen going to tell A-Xin, that she even had to turn off her mic?
"Director Ruan, can you turn off your earpiece for a moment?"
A-Xin nodded and turned it off.
Wen Nianshen took two steps over and leaned close to A-Xin's ear. As long as she spoke softly, even the host beside them couldn't hear. Wen Nianshen looked at the beautiful woman within arm's reach, her heart somewhat stirred. She nervously curled her fingers and met A-Xin's eyes. Reading in A-Xin's expression that she was waiting for her to speak, Wen Nianshen lowered her eyes and smiled. Even if A-Xin didn't remember their past, surely she'd sensed something? Now, A-Xin surely knew she was about to give her the answer.
When it came to endurance, she figured she was no match for A-Xin.
"Director Ruan, from now on I don't want to call you Director Ruan anymore." Wen Nianshen's voice could be heard by only the two of them. Seeing A-Xin lightly raise an eyebrow, as if signaling her to go on, she continued, her voice carrying a tender lingering note, "I want to call you A-Xin, call you wife. I really like you so much. Tell me—calling you that, is it all right?"
"I want to tell everyone, right here, that we're lovers. Is that all right?"
"Do you still remember what I told you ten years ago—that I'd leave this circle at thirty-five? Actually, I didn't finish. What I meant was that in the year I turn thirty-five, I want to hold your hand and leave this circle together, never to mind any of the world's mundane affairs again—just the two of us living our days together. Tell me, is that all right?"
Having said this, Wen Nianshen kept looking at A-Xin from up close, not even blinking. She saw with her own eyes A-Xin's face take on a look of sudden realization, and then A-Xin smiled at her faintly. At last, in those beautiful eyes, she saw that intimately familiar love. In that instant, she really wanted so badly to embrace her, to kiss her.
"All right. As you wish."
Wen Nianshen's smile widened. Whether the people on-site or the netizens watching the stream, they were all curious—what on earth had A-Xin said to make Wen Nianshen so happy? Especially when the camera gave her a close-up; they really had never once seen Wen Nianshen this happy.
Anti-fan: "I admit it—she is a little pretty."
Looks-obsessed fan: "She's always been pretty. No rebuttals accepted."
Wen Nianshen smiled with pressed lips and said again, "Then, may I kiss you in front of everyone?"
"Of course you may."
The moment A-Xin finished, just as Wen Nianshen was about to move, A-Xin had already leaned over and kissed her squarely on the lips. There was some surprise in Wen Nianshen's pupils, and then she unceremoniously wrapped her arms around her lover's waist. The two seemed to forget that this was the awards stage, still broadcasting live—that doing this would deliver a jolt to so many souls.
The host beside them let out an uncontrollable shriek, and then the people on-site, once they came to their senses, all stood up in excitement. The most excited of them, surprisingly, was Su Wei—the cameraman even gave her a close-up, and the masses of netizens all saw it: Su Wei covering her mouth, eyes rimmed red, tears flowing, looking so moved.
The CP fans watching the stream were so excited they nearly smashed their computers, frantically pounding their desks and shaking their phones, that fit-throwing manner making their families think they'd gone mad:
Ahhhhh, they really are a couple—if there's one of the happiest things in this world, it's that a CP they shipped, one that seemed impossible, has actually come true. It was simply thrilling; they really wanted to scream.
The anti-fans: This isn't real, it definitely isn't, how could it be? Director Ruan, a person of such taste, actually likes Wen Nianshen—they're a couple? They won't look, won't believe, won't accept, won't listen, won't understand. But before their very eyes, they saw it—Director Ruan kissed Wen Nianshen first. So... could they gouge out their own eyes?
The masses of netizens boiled over, the bullet-comments scrolling so thick you couldn't see the screen, until they finally had to block them. The two women on-screen had already stopped. Where before they'd each stood to one side, now they stood out hand in hand, openly and frankly. Wen Nianshen turned on her mic and looked at the camera. "Surprise, right? Whether everyone's surprised or not, I'm pretty happy anyway. Now let me announce: from now on, how I address Director Ruan—A-Xin, wife!"
Netizens: Bleh! Ugh!
Wen Nianshen glanced at A-Xin, their gazes meeting for an instant, and said again, "Besides announcing my and A-Xin's relationship today, we have one more thing to announce."
Everyone pricked up their ears. Could it be the wedding date? The host also stood to one side, face full of excitement, and snapping to her senses, said words of congratulation in the gaps. On the big screen, scenes of the two's affectionate moments from the zombie film were even playing, and a love song started up on-site. The actors below all clapped and sang along.
Compared to on-site, online was a thick fog of foulness. The anti-fans had finally found a reason to spit on Wen Nianshen. Eyeing the stream with one eye, phone in hand, they spat on Wen Nianshen with all their might.
Just as Wen Nianshen was about to speak, whether on-site or those netizens posted up in front of their computers watching the stream, they all went still. Wen Nianshen really had hooked their curiosity; they badly wanted to know what she was going to announce.
"Today is the day A-Xin and I get together, and also the day we both leave this circle. Those of you who like me—you can keep on liking me. Even though I won't act anymore, I'll take lots of pretty photos. My anti-fans—you've finally gotten your wish. From now on, there'll never be a Wen Nianshen in this circle again. Cursing for so many years, it's been hard work for you too."
That woman on-screen, in the netizens' eyes, was still so smackable. But hearing her announce she was leaving the circle, everyone fell speechless. Why would she leave?
She was still young, thirty-five, her looks barely changed, her career at its peak—why retire?
And if she retired, fine—but why take Director Ruan away with her too?
Hey, hey, hey, Wen Nianshen, can't we talk this over? If you want to go, then go, but don't take the director they love away too, all right? Of course, if she's willing to stay, they'd spit on her a little less from now on.
But Wen Nianshen had no intention of changing her mind. She said, "Acting is my hobby; I love acting. But it's not my greatest love. My greatest love is..." She turned her head to gaze at A-Xin. "This person standing beside me. I'm already thirty-five. If I can live to eighty, I'll have only forty-five years left with her—which means I've already lived half my life. The other half, I don't want to be so busy. I just want to be with A-Xin."
The masses of netizens really wanted to shout: You two film together every single year—one movie a year is three months, one TV drama is six months, so the time you spend together in a year is nine months. That's most of the year, sis. And that's not even counting the time you spend together in private. Add it up, and aren't you already together all the time?
The netizens were especially heartsore. This woman was always like this—always doing whatever crossed her mind, never giving them the slightest chance to react. Come to think of it, apart from being a bit arrogant, a bit insatiable, a bit vain, a bit fond of online fights, she didn't really have any major flaws. Compared to many in the circle, she was far more likable. They just couldn't stand how high-profile she was; if she were a little lower-key, she'd be quite endearing.
Seeing Wen Nianshen had stopped talking, the host hurriedly asked A-Xin, "Director Ruan, at this very moment, is there anything you'd like to express? Nianshen says you're going to leave this circle together—is that true? Was it decided long ago, or a spur-of-the-moment thing?"
"There's nothing much to express, really. She's not acting anymore, and I don't want to shoot anymore either. What Nianshen said is true—from now on, she won't act, and I won't shoot. We talked about this ten years ago; it's not spur-of-the-moment."
The host seized on the key point. "So, Director Ruan—you two started ten years ago?"
The host stared at A-Xin; Wen Nianshen looked at A-Xin; everyone on-site gazed at her too, along with tens of millions of netizens watching this unforgettable livestream.
They heard A-Xin say softly, "Earlier than ten years ago. As for exactly when, I don't remember." Even though many memories of this soul had been sealed by her, through that zombie film she could deduce that they'd known each other for a very, very long time.
Even having forgotten this soul's face, forgotten her name, forgotten everything about her—the one thing she couldn't forget was the love hidden at the bottom of her heart, which would always quietly slip out when she wasn't paying attention.
The masses of netizens, listening to A-Xin's words, went ashen. So they'd had something going on all along? They were the ones kept in the dark? They were the latecomers? Wen Nianshen had known her ages ago? They felt awful inside.
This woman really was annoying—hiding it that deep.
When they'd been spitting that the two of them were impossible, was she lying in Director Ruan's bed, hugging Director Ruan and laughing at how dumb they were? How infuriating!
"Director Ruan, you're still very young, a rare genius director. Giving up filming—don't you feel it's a pity?"
A-Xin answered, "No. Just as Nianshen said, for the second half of my life, I only want to be with her."
"And Nianshen? You're at the peak of your career right now—why are you willing to give it up like this? Don't you feel any regret? Actually, you and Director Ruan could perfectly well continue in the old mode, one film and one drama a year." The host said this with a private motive, really—he didn't want these two to retire.
Wen Nianshen smiled. "Acting is only my hobby. I won't have any regrets. And the work mode you mention is too busy—it would waste a lot of our time. I don't see the need. Wouldn't it be better to spend that time traveling the world?"
Everyone on-site was taken aback for a moment, remembering that Wen Nianshen also held the identity of the young heiress of the Wen Group, and that now the entire Wen Group was in her hands. So she really had no need to cling to this circle.
Acting really was only a hobby of hers.
This awards gala came to a close with famous actress Wen Nianshen and famous director Ruan Shen coming out, and simultaneously announcing their retirement from the industry.
Deep in the quiet night, A-Xin and Wen Nianshen had long since gone to rest. But the masses of netizens who'd watched the stream tossed and turned, unable to sleep, thinking of what they'd heard today—reluctance, heartache, fury, anger! In the end they couldn't help fishing out their phones, and saw that on Weibo, in the forums, everywhere, people were discussing the two.
Wen Nianshen got cursed plenty.
Many cursed Wen Nianshen for being selfish—if she wanted to retire, fine, but why insist on dragging A-Xin into retiring too? Saying that A-Xin loved filming, that Wen Nianshen wasn't worthy of A-Xin, and so on.
They cursed all night and still didn't feel it was enough. Wanting to spit some more, they scrolled to a Weibo post from A-Xin:
Ms. Wen Nianshen and I will soon hold our wedding. From now on we'll be lawfully wedded wives. Leaving the circle was not something she forced on me—it was my own willing choice. With her no longer acting, even if I didn't announce my retirement, I wouldn't shoot another film.
A film without her in it would only be dull and dreary.
Everyone—let's part on good terms.
If anyone spreads false statements or makes personal attacks against Wen Nianshen again, I will take legal means to defend my wife's reputation.
First thing in the morning, the masses of netizens were fed a mouthful of unpalatable dog food.
Looking at that long Weibo post, which even included a photo of the two together, they finally fell silent. So Director Ruan was for real. Since they'd known Director Ruan, they'd never seen her post such a long Weibo. The degree of wife-protecting was outrageous.
Under the netizens' accusing gaze, the two got married.
On their wedding day, Wen Nianshen's Weibo stirred again. For this update, she posted no text—she only @'d one person and attached a screenshot. The netizens opened the image, saw the content inside, and laughed themselves silly.
The content of the image was: How could they? If they were going to come out, they'd have done it long ago. If it's real, I'll eat sh*t for you all to see.
The netizens flocked to the Weibo of the person who'd posted this remark, clamoring for him to come out and eat sh*t on a livestream!
When that person found out, his fingers flew to delete that "if-they-come-out-I'll-eat-sh*t" remark. But the netizens had finally found their fun—how could they let him off so easily? They commented, "Little bro, deleting's no use—she already screenshotted it. And now she's married, too. Aren't you going to make good on your promise?"
From this affair, they learned: provoke anyone, but never that woman Wen Nianshen.
She held grudges to death.
Afterward, the two didn't vanish from everyone's sight. Every so often, the netizens would camp out under their Weibo to see where the two had gone together this time, what kind of pretty photos they'd taken—that vain Wen Nianshen, having to steal the shot even taking photos with her wife. Hilarious, really.
When Su Wei was worn out like a dog from filming, she'd fish out her phone and scroll through the two's sweet updates, and instantly perk up. This was her spiritual nourishment—one look and she was full of energy again.
The two were always loving, and no one ever once saw them quarrel. Wen Nianshen's temperament was proud and willful, but they discovered that only before A-Xin would she go soft as a puddle of water. Perhaps, in this world, apart from this person Ruan Shen, no one could ever experience Wen Nianshen's tenderness.
Later, many actors emerged in this circle too, and every year there were many newly released films and newly aired dramas.
They'd watch from beginning to end and always feel something was missing. Missing Wen Nianshen—that actress who always stole the scene from the plot.
When they went back and rewatched all the films Wen Nianshen had acted in, they discovered a stunning fact: her acting had never been bad. Any drama she was in always had a different kind of highlight.
And that zombie film—people watched it over and over; whenever they were feeling down, one watch would lift their spirits.
That suspense film the two had first collaborated on was later remade. Out of nostalgia, they went to watch it. In the end they fell silent and took back what they'd said back then—that without Wen Nianshen, the film would be more perfect.
In truth, very few actors could play that role with the same essence as Wen Nianshen.
That zombie film was remade too.
The director, taking to heart the criticism back then that the zombie Wen Nianshen played was too pretty, made the lead an image that wasn't clean-cut, didn't care for beauty, and wasn't vain.
When it aired, and the netizens saw the human lead show a look full of love toward the zombie lead, they nearly gagged.
They'd been wrong—this zombie had to be pretty, had to be vain.
Clearly, this film flopped.
Only then did everyone realize: that zombie in the floral dress—pretty, vain, proud and bratty—was the very essence of this zombie film's romance line. Without these, it was nothing but an ordinary zombie film, not one that could be called a zombie film with love in it.
The netizens: They suddenly found themselves missing that arrogant Wen Nianshen, the one who, with a few stinking dollars, was forever insatiable, who—apart from being a little good-looking—always stole the scene from the plot. That woman was probably in some country right now, hugging her wife and grinning.
Jealous!
"A-Xin, come look at these anti-fans. They've got no professional code at all—how can they just turn from anti to fan, just like that?"
Wen Nianshen leaned against A-Xin, scrolling through her phone. The anti-fans who'd jumped around the most viciously, whom she'd followed with her sock-puppet account, had actually deleted every last one of their old Weibo posts trashing her, and even joined her fan support club. That conspicuous "Verified Wen Nianshen Fan" tag really did blind her eyes. Even more terrifying, a certain head anti-fan had actually become an administrator of her fan support club—truly horrifying.
Wen Nianshen muttered, "So unprofessional!"