Huai Jing, Civil Affairs Bureau.
Two newlyweds stood before a bright red backdrop.
The man wore a white shirt, his features coldly handsome, his jawline smooth and sharp, the prominent Adam’s apple at his collar particularly striking.
The woman wore a white shirt layered under an apricot-colored sweater, her delicate and petite face adorned with clear, bright fox-like eyes. The red tear mole beneath the corner of her eye made her look alluring and captivating.
“Sir, madam, please move a little closer.”
As soon as the photographer spoke, the two newlyweds simultaneously moved slightly closer to each other, leaving a distance of two fists between their shoulders.
The photographer: “…”
They did move closer, but not by much.
Jiang Tu’s deep peach-blossom eyes were inscrutable, the tip of his nose lingering with a faint scent of roses.
Qiao Shu pursed her red lips, clenched her hands at her sides, and told herself to treat it as if she were filming a scene.
The photographer was on the verge of breaking down. They had moved closer, but both wore expressionless faces, which was rather unsettling.
“Sir, madam, please try to look more natural.”
Qiao Shu and Jiang Tu slightly lifted the corners of their mouths.
The photographer quickly pressed the shutter to capture this moment. The newlywed couple seemed like strangers, every move as if following a routine.
After the photo was taken, both moved in unison, putting on masks, as if they couldn’t wait to be miles apart from each other.
The photographer: “…”
Qiao Shu lowered her head to look at her toes. Outside, thunder and rain raged, the weather chillingly cold. Coupled with the approaching end of work hours, there were very few people registering for marriage at the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Soon after, the two received their freshly printed red marriage certificates. Faced with the staff’s congratulations, they merely nodded coldly and distantly, showing no trace of joy.
Qiao Shu didn’t look at the marriage certificate, striding away with long steps. She just wanted to go home and have a hot meal.
Jiang Tu’s cold eyes flickered as he walked toward the exit. Upon leaving, he saw Qiao Shu getting into a taxi.
Once in the car, Qiao Shu took out the marriage certificate from her bag. She was quite curious about how the photo had turned out.
What met her eyes was the newlywed couple against the red backdrop. Both looked unnatural, their slightly raised lips appearing somewhat comical, yet oddly fitting.
Qiao Shu was momentarily stunned. Jiang Tu was really handsome.
Looking at this wedding photo alone, she and Jiang Tu actually looked quite compatible as a couple. Qiao Shu shook her head vigorously to snap out of it. What was she thinking? Compatible as a couple?
Qiao Shu paused for a few seconds. At this moment, she deeply realized that she had married Jiang Tu.
That man who was famous across the country.
She was a nobody in the entertainment industry; he was a top star, an award-winning actor.
It truly reflected the saying: without comparison, there is no harm. They were like heaven and earth.
Qiao Shu and Jiang Tu had been engaged since childhood—a childhood betrothal. Qiao Shu’s grandfather had once saved Jiang Tu’s grandfather.
A particularly clichéd and melodramatic plot.
Old Master Jiang wanted the two families to become even closer, so he discussed with her grandfather and arranged their engagement.
Qiao Shu and Jiang Tu originally had no connection at all. It was only because of this piece of paper—the marriage contract—that she and he were bound together.
Qiao Shu rubbed her fingertips over the photo on the marriage certificate, took a picture with her phone, and sent it to the Han Family to report the task completed.
In another car.
Jiang Tu, as if following a routine, took a photo with his phone and sent it to the WeChat family group.
After sending it, he turned off his phone and closed his eyes to rest.
Jiang Tu’s mind flashed with Qiao Shu’s fair, pure, and alluring face. Qiao Shu’s eyes were very special.
Alluring, bright fox-like eyes, the red tear mole beneath the corner of her eye particularly captivating. Her small, palm-sized face was free of makeup, her lips a tempting crimson.
Jiang Tu frowned. How bizarre.
Why was he thinking of her?
Today was just their first meeting.
The agent in the driver’s seat looked regretful—married so young, what a pity.
Jiang Tu was twenty-four this year, with countless awards to his name. Last year, he became the youngest Best Actor in the history of the entertainment industry with the film Blazing Flames.
He debuted at eighteen and, with his family’s support, had hardly faced any hardships. Jiang Tu was highly dedicated to his craft.
Everyone in the industry knew that Jiang Tu was the youngest son of the Jiang family in Huaijing and the heir to the Jiang Group.
His father, Jiang Guanqing, was a renowned cultural relic restorer.
His mother, Su Xi, was a formidable businesswoman.
His older brother, Jiang Yan, was a rising business tycoon.
This background was incredibly strong.
Jiang Tu was exceptionally dedicated, with superb acting skills and a solid command of dialogue—a natural-born actor.
Jiang Tu had many fans, and naturally, many haters too.
Qianshui Bay, Unit 3, A1701
As soon as she stepped inside, the warmth of the heating enveloped her, and Qiao Shu let out a sigh of relief. She was sensitive to the cold and despised winter.
“Qiao Qiao?”
Qiao Shu froze—it was the voice of her agent, Zhang Qian. “Qian Jie, what are you doing here?”
Zhang Qian looked at her with confusion. “When did you go out? What were you doing?”
Qiao Shu hung her bag on the rack and changed her shoes.
“I had some business to take care of.”
Zhang Qian frowned. “Even though you’re a barely-known actress on the fringes of the industry, you still need to be careful when you go out.”
Qiao Shu sat on the sofa and muttered softly, “No one even recognizes me on the street.”
Zhang Qian: “…”
After a moment of silence, Zhang Qian took out a script and handed it to her. “Take this dating show.”
Qiao Shu took the script and flipped through it. The show was scripted, and the character she was assigned was annoying.
Zhang Qian stared at Qiao Shu’s face, wondering how someone so beautiful could remain so obscure.
Her acting skills were decent enough, but her resources were abysmal.
Qiao Shu tossed the script onto the coffee table, her delicate brows furrowing. “Which colleague didn’t want this script?”
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Zhang Qian’s eyes. It was indeed a script rejected by another artist from the company, which she had picked up.
Qiao Shu leaned lazily against the sofa, half-closing her eyes. “I’m not going.”
Zhang Qian was shocked. “Do you even have the right to refuse?”
“Take a good look at how much money you have in your pocket before you speak, okay? I sincerely advise you to think carefully about whether you want to participate in this show.”
Qiao Shu: “…”
“Also, you still haven’t figured out your rent.”
Qiao Shu frowned, her red lips parting as if to speak, but Zhang Qian cut her off.
“Don’t count on your monthly salary. The rent is due in a couple of days, and you have no choice.”
Qiao Shu slumped on the sofa, defeated.
Her meager salary barely covered the rent, leaving little left over. She had signed with this company because it offered social security and a five-year contract, with three years still remaining.
Zhang Qian was exasperated. She finally understood why Qiao Shu wasn’t popular.
Qiao Shu had no desire to become famous. As long as she could make ends meet, she lacked any ambition.
All she did was slack off.
Qiao Shu had been in the industry for two years, remaining in a lukewarm state with only a little over three million followers.
Most of them were fake accounts bought by the company to maintain its reputation.
Qiao Shu hadn’t filmed anything in nearly six months. So far, she had only appeared in four dramas, all in minor supporting roles.
She was an obscure, barely-noticed figure.
“Qiao Shu, don’t you want to eat at Le Chcolat Box anymore? Isn’t that your dream?”
Qiao Shu: “…”
Infuriating. Zhang Qian knew exactly how to manipulate her.
She’s a chocoholic.
Her current dream is to taste the world’s most expensive chocolate, “Le Chocolat Box.”
A single box costs over ten million.
With only nine pieces per box, it wouldn’t even be enough for her to show off.
Qiao Shu had no choice but to accept the dating show with tears in her eyes. For the sake of buying her beloved chocolate, a dating show it is.
And it’s one that others didn’t want—how pitiful.
“Put the food in the microwave to heat it up. When you have time, read more books and newspapers, and hone your lines and acting skills.”
Qiao Shu: “…”
This motivational talk is so cliché.
“The show starts filming in a week. Take care of yourself during this time. No junk food, and absolutely no secretly ordering fried chicken. I’m leaving.”
Qiao Shu pouted, “Take care, Qianjie.”
Zhang Qian: “…”
She genuinely likes Qiao Shu. Qiao Shu is a struggling actress, and so is she—they’re both in the same boat.
They share the same hardships, relying on each other for warmth.