Chapter Fourteen: I’m Willing to Have a Sham Marriage with You~
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Xu Miao almost instinctively turned off her phone screen and slipped it back into her pocket. Standing before her were two men, both dressed in the same background actor costumes as she was. They looked about her age. One was tall and burly, grinning broadly at her. The other was younger, leaner, with a slightly evasive gaze, trailing behind the larger man.
“Hey, beautiful, you must be Xu Miao, right?” The burly man spoke first, his voice loud and familiar. “I’m A Dong, but everyone calls me Brother Dong. This is my buddy A Yang. We saw you alone just now, thought we’d come say hi.”
The film studio was a place full of mixed characters, and Xu Miao always adhered to the principle of avoiding unnecessary trouble. She stood up, brushed the dust from her pants, and offered a polite but distant smile. “Hello.”
Seeing her cold demeanor, Brother Dong wasn’t deterred; instead, he grew more enthusiastic. “Hey, don’t be so formal! We’ve heard you’re not just a background actor but also assisting Deputy Director Chen. You’re really capable and beautiful! When we’re on set from now on, please take good care of us brothers!”
With that, he pulled a can of iced coffee out of nowhere and handed it to her. “It’s hot today, shooting’s tough—have a drink to refresh yourself.”
Xu Miao instinctively wanted to refuse. “No, thank you, I’m not thirsty.”
She disliked owing favors, especially to strangers. Moreover, the way these two looked at her made her instinctively uneasy.
“Oh, come on, it’s just a can of coffee,” Brother Dong said, pressing the drink into her hand, his tone firm. “The two of us happened to buy an extra one. We mean no harm! We’re background actors too, you know—just hoping that if an opportunity comes up, you’ll think of us. No pressure to recommend any roles if none fit, just making friends. Things aren’t great these days, so don’t refuse us.”
A Yang chimed in softly, “Yeah, Sister Miao, Brother Dong just wants more connections, don’t read too much into it.”
At this point, further refusal would seem unfriendly.
The crew was a small community, and offending people without cause was unwise.
Xu Miao sighed inwardly, deciding to take just one sip to appease them.
She pulled the tab, the cold metal touch soothing her frazzled nerves slightly.
Raising the can, she took a symbolic, small sip.
The coffee tasted strange—overly sweet and cloying, mixed with an indescribable bitterness that slid down her throat, leaving a tingling aftertaste.
“What’s wrong? Not used to coffee?” Brother Dong watched her expression closely.
“No, it’s good,” Xu Miao said, setting the can down, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Brother Dong. I have something to attend to, so I’ll head over now.”
She just wanted to leave quickly and reply to Fu Wenhan’s message.
But as she took a step and opened Fu Wenhan’s chat, a sudden wave of dizziness seized her.
The nearby prop warehouse spun, and the voices of Brother Dong and A Yang grew muffled, as if underwater.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Heatstroke?” Brother Dong’s voice sounded off.
Not surprising.
Alarm bells rang in Xu Miao’s mind—there was something wrong with that coffee!
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Her legs buckled, her body uncontrollably swayed to one side. Brother Dong’s quick reflexes caught her arm. His rough hand gripped her like iron tongs, astonishingly strong.
“Looks like you’re really unwell. Come on, Brother Dong will take you to the rest area to rest.”
“No! No need,” Xu Miao struggled desperately, but her limbs betrayed her. It was like being trapped in a nightmare—wanting to run but unable to move, her tongue numb, words feeble and powerless.
Her body felt like a puppet on strings, as Brother Dong and A Yang supported her on either side, dragging her toward the parking lot outside the set.
The crew bustled with people, all busy with their own affairs. Occasionally, a glance was cast their way, but no one paid much attention, assuming she was just feeling unwell.
She wanted to call for help but couldn’t make a loud sound; her limbs were heavy as lead, and she couldn’t resist these two men.
She felt herself being lifted into a car, lying down in the back seat, as a wave of overwhelming sleepiness crashed over her.
No, she had to hold on.
Her hand searched her pocket, summoning all her strength. Guided by muscle memory, she unlocked her phone screen. Her vision was already blurred; she couldn’t read the words clearly, only blindly typing in the last open chat window.
Her fingers trembled wildly, nearly unable to control themselves. Instinctively, she tapped out a message.
“Help me…”
She didn’t even have time to switch to Chinese input before hitting send.
Immediately after, she activated location sharing.
Sent.
Having done all this, her last ounce of strength drained away.
With a heavy “bang,” the car door slammed shut, cutting off all light and sound from outside.
Fu Wenhan leaned back in his ergonomic chair, fingertips tapping idly on the desk, eyes fixed on his phone screen.
The photo of the banner and milk tea he had sent to Xu Miao lay quietly in the chat window.
A faint smile touched his lips as he imagined how proud and eager to take credit she would look upon receiving the message.
Suddenly, the phone screen lit up—not with the reply he expected, but with two brief, chilling messages.
【jiu wo】
【Location Shared】
Fu Wenhan sat up straight.
Opening the location sharing, he saw Xu Miao’s icon moving rapidly in a remote area near the film studio.
This location was wrong—something must have happened to her.
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Fu Wenhan stood, took off his white coat, grabbed the jacket draped over his chair and his car keys, then strode out of the office.
“Director Fu? Where are you going? There’s still a patient scheduled…” The young nurse at the station looked pale and worried as she hurried after him.
“Urgent matter. Transfer her to Director Chen,” Fu Wenhan’s tone was tense. The nurse was stunned by the fierce gleam in his eyes.
…
In the parking lot, a sleek silver-gray Granturismo roared out of its spot, tires leaving faint skid marks on the ground.
Fu Wenhan was somewhat relieved it was this sports car he was driving today.
One hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, the other rapidly operated his phone, forwarding Xu Miao’s shared location to two people.
The first was his assistant, Xie Ang.
After graduating from university, Fu Wenhan started his own company, and Xie Ang had been his aide ever since.
The call was answered almost immediately.
“Xie Ang, drop everything and go to the location I sent!”
“Got it, Boss Fu!” Xie Ang didn’t ask why; Fu Wenhan’s tone meant it was an emergency.
The second call was to his younger brother, Fu Xinye.
“Bro? What’s up—”
“Cut the crap,” Fu Wenhan interrupted, eyes glued to the moving red dot on his navigation. “West side of the film studio. I sent you the location. You’re closer—get there immediately! That girl you met last time is in trouble.”
Fu Xinye’s voice turned serious at once. “The wild philosopher?”
“Yes, her,” Fu Wenhan slammed the accelerator to the floor. “Hurry up and come help.”
At that moment, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xu Miao’s red dot flicker once, then disappear.
【The other party has exited location sharing】
His heart sank.
Did she turn it off herself? Impossible. Did the phone die? Or was she discovered?
Any of those meant she was in greater danger.