Chapter 13 : Moonlight and Motives

Rain had fallen earlier, but by night, stars pierced the sky.
Puddles on the road mirrored the moon’s glow, painting a delicate scene in their shallow depths.

Shen Mengke paced the quiet street, nearly midnight, with few people around.
Most shops were closing, save for a few where men lingered, drinking and laughing, forcing owners to wait them out.
Voices and clinking glasses filled the air as she walked slowly, asking into her phone, “Where are you?”
A pause on the other end.
“Yaozhou.”

Calling Chen Yanxing was impulsive.
Shen Mengke had bought a bowl of wontons at a small shop, hoping to clear her mind, but the quieter the night, the louder her thoughts.
From their morning agreement to the Yaozhou encounter, anger simmered.
Why did Chen Yanxing assume the worst about Xu Shinian’s party and force their relationship into the open?
It was a liability!
The stillness fueled her spiraling thoughts, replaying every choice, growing angrier.
She grabbed her phone to confront Chen Yanxing.

Her logic was sharp, but her finger hovered over the call button.
She knew nights bred impulsiveness, mornings regret.
About to give up, someone bumped her shoulder.

A stench of smoke and liquor hit first, followed by a shadow over her table.
She frowned, looking up.
A staggering man, with three others in tow, stood before her.
Two were at the counter, shouting for buns and wontons.
A slightly sober one supported the drunk who’d bumped her, muttering, “Sorry.”
The drunk thrust a half-eaten skewer at her, slurring, “Eat, little sister.”
Shen Mengke stood, pocketing her phone, unaware the call had connected.

She glanced at the barbecue shop across the street, heads peering their way.
Irritated, she turned to leave.
Before she could step away, the drunk blocked her path.
She stepped back as he grinned, pulling out his phone.
“Make a friend?”
Shen Mengke sneered, “Move.”
“Come on, sister—”
His words cut off with a yelp as she kicked him squarely in the crotch.
He stumbled back, doubling over, clutching himself.
One man rushed to help him, while the other two approached, their looks hostile.
The sober one, holding the drunk, apologized.
“He’s wasted, sorry…”
This was Huayuan—home to the rich and famous.
Who’d dare cause a scene?
Shen Mengke, striking and poised, didn’t look ordinary.
No need to risk trouble over a drunken mess.
She sighed, not sparing them a glance.
“Keep him in check, or he’s done.”
She walked out.

Two steps later, confirming no one followed, she laughed.
Memories surfaced of her old mentor’s lessons.

“Men?
Don’t be polite.
They’ll take advantage if you are.”
“Kick here, hard as you can.
Break something, it’s just money.”
“Your legs are weak.
Start training with me tomorrow…”

Shen Mengke had resisted but was dragged into a month of workouts.
Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of it.
She glanced at it, walking back.

[Client-LittleTaoist: You okay?]

Chen Yanxing had messaged—and their call was still active.

Hearing the party noise on Chen Yanxing’s end, her cooled anger flared.
Why was she stuck eating wontons outside her complex while Chen Yanxing reveled at Yaozhou?
“Chen Yanxing, you’ve got a girlfriend now.
Stop fooling around.”
She knew their relationship was fake, knew she had no ground to stand on, knew it didn’t bind Chen Yanxing.
A sour pang hit her.
Five years since graduation, and she was still lukewarm—more infamous for scandals than her work.
Search “Shen Mengke” anywhere but Baidu, and it’s all dirt.
Seeing others thrive, her heart unbalanced.
Why them, not her?

“What?”
Chen Yanxing’s confused voice came through.
Shen Mengke laughed, a self-deprecating edge.
She kicked a puddle, water splashing her ankle and pants, cool and wet.
A shiver ran through her, a sudden nausea like parasites crawling inside.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Phone was in my bag, accidentally called.
Hanging up.”
She cut the call before a reply.

She nearly blurted, “Chen Yanxing, sponsor me.”
Just barely held it back.
Entering the industry, she’d sworn never to trade her body for resources.
Yet, over the years, she’d come close…
She feared one day she’d give in, fading into obscurity as she’d arrived.

Her vision blurred.
She looked up at the half-clouded moon, slowly heading home.
The same moon, seen differently by different eyes, from different places.
Yaozhou’s dazzling lights stole the moon’s glow, claiming the sky.

Midnight was prime time for revelry.
Yaozhou pulsed with human indulgence, and Chen Yanxing, tucked in a corner, felt out of place.
She wanted to leave.
Shen Mengke’s call, abruptly ended, left her puzzled.
Was she… checking up on her?
They’d just parted.

Xu Shinian took leave, and Shen Mengke got a break too.
Sunny said the script needed tweaks, but Shen Mengke sensed it wasn’t the script.
Something was off.
She checked online—nothing but calm.
Connections mattered now more than ever.

Over two days at home, she saw Chen Yanxing once.
Chen Yanxing brought the new contract, meeting at a café near the complex.
The whole thing took ten minutes—Shen Mengke signed, and Chen Yanxing left.
Sitting alone, Shen Mengke watched her coffee cool, the latte art untouched.
Chen Yanxing’s approach to the contract felt odd.
She seemed to care, yet didn’t—she hadn’t consulted Shen Mengke before drafting it, signing her own name early, rushing through the process.
But she delivered it personally when an assistant could’ve sufficed, and said nothing beyond business.
Domineering yet careless.
Shen Mengke couldn’t pin her down.

When the coffee was cold, she stirred the foam away, downing it.
Across from her sat an identical, untouched cup.

They met again the next day.

Du Junyi’s birthday was a big deal for the frugal Du family, with lavish plans and big-name stars invited.
Shen Mengke didn’t grasp the business stakes but saw the opportunity.
She called her high school friend, Jiang Zhixing—a rich kid obsessed with music, shirking family duties.

Jiang Zhixing was her classmate and deskmate for three years, though Shen Mengke never understood why a rich kid attended a small-town high school.
She didn’t ask; Jiang Zhixing didn’t tell.

That night, Shen Mengke wore a rare couture gown.
A flashy red sports car pulled up.
She laughed.
Jiang Zhixing opened the door herself.
“Beautiful lady, please.”
Shen Mengke’s gaze lingered on her, then she got in.
The door closed.
Jiang Zhixing wore a simple white casual suit.
Shen Mengke recalled their call two days ago.
Asking Jiang Zhixing about Du Junyi’s party, she’d known Shen Mengke wanted in.
On the phone, Jiang Zhixing shouted, “Xiao Tian, grab that invite from the trash!”

Shen Mengke had frozen, amused.
In high school, they’d played music together, even formed a band.
It started because of Jiang Zhixing’s infamous crush.

They’d clicked as friends, but Jiang Zhixing wasn’t into music until their sophomore year.
After the arts-sciences split, they landed in the same class.
That year, Jiang Zhixing fell hard for Ruan Lihua, their classmate.
It was a loud, obvious crush—everyone but Ruan Lihua knew.
Too shy to confess, Jiang Zhixing learned Ruan Lihua loved bands and played multiple instruments.
She dragged Shen Mengke into forming one for courage.
At first, it was just them and Ruan Lihua—Jiang Zhixing a half-baked beginner with a great voice.
Ruan Lihua recruited two others, making a small band.
They played for a year until graduation scattered them.
Post-exam, Jiang Zhixing finally mustered the courage to confess, but Ruan Lihua had left the country without a word.

The teenage spark fizzled out.

Shen Mengke went to an out-of-town university, losing touch with Jiang Zhixing.
They reconnected at a business dinner after Shen Mengke’s first drama.
Back then, everyone thought she’d skyrocket, but she never did.
Her boss stopped taking her to events, but she and Jiang Zhixing stayed in touch.

For two years, Jiang Zhixing tried reviving the band, cycling through members—none truly in it for music, just her money.
She kept at it, scouting music majors at nearby universities, recently picking up another.