Wen Zhiyan's voice, much like his aura, was cool but not uncomfortable.
"I was also wrong," Fang Miaomiao said earnestly, meeting Wen Zhiyan's gaze.
"Get some rest early. An An will participate in the program with you tomorrow," Wen Zhiyan said in a calm tone. "For the next week, I will be on a business trip. I'll trouble you to look after An An."
Originally, Wen Zhiyan was not entirely comfortable with her participating in this program with An An, but since An An was willing, he had to agree, while also instructing the bodyguards to keep a close watch.
"A business trip, huh?" Fang Miaomiao scratched her head. "Oh gosh, where is this strange awkwardness coming from? Um, don't worry, I'll take good care of Wen An An."
Only then did Wen Zhiyan look at Fang Miaomiao seriously.
In fact, given his circumstances, he had never intended to get married. But unexpectedly, he was set up by his rival business and ended up doing something he regretted to Fang Miaomiao. Later, Fang Miaomiao saved his father. For moral and logical reasons, he owed Fang Miaomiao his life, which was why he agreed to her request for marriage. To him, it was just like having one more person to provide for.
However, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that Fang Miaomiao seemed different today. But he couldn't pinpoint what the difference was.
After a long pause, he shifted his gaze. "Thank you."
After Wen Zhiyan left, Fang Miaomiao immediately took out her phone and called her agent, Sister Li. She had decided not to participate in the variety show.
In her previous life, to raise money for her grandmother's surgery, she was forced to drop out of school and enter the entertainment industry. She was then tricked by the agency into signing a contract with exorbitant liquidated damages. To get out of the contract, she worked herself to the bone, rushing from one set to another, essentially working year-round without a break. Finally, at the age of 35, she became the youngest woman in the world to win a grand slam award and earned enough to cover the liquidated damages. Just when she thought she could finally lie at home and do nothing, she woke up inside a book.
In her past life, she was too tired. So, in this life, she had decided to be a happy-go-lucky person. After all, Wen Zhiyan had plenty of money, more than enough for her to spend lavishly. Such a leisurely life was surely better than struggling in the entertainment industry.
"What is it?" Sister Li's voice soon came from the other end of the phone.
"Sister Li, about that variety show, I want to back out. See if you can..."
"What did you say?"
"I said."
"Stop right there, Fang Miaomiao. I'll pretend I didn't hear you." Sister Li paused, then sighed, "I know you felt wronged about what happened last time, but there was no other choice. And the company did compensate you, didn't it?"
Fang Miaomiao blinked in confusion. She recalled that Fang Yan Huan had snatched a script that was supposed to be hers. In the past, the company would have said nothing. But now, she was Mrs. Wen, so the company, unable to do anything else, assigned her to a variety show, this parent-child program. It was said that a major star who had already agreed suddenly changed their mind for some reason, so she was brought in as a last-minute replacement.
Sister Li on the other end of the phone didn't say much more. "The filming crew will be at your house early tomorrow morning. This matter is not up for discussion."
"Hey, wait a minute, Sister Li. I'm serious."
A moment later, Fang Miaomiao heard a dialing tone from the phone. Well, Sister Li had hung up on her. She would just have to go and talk to her properly tomorrow.
Not long after she fell asleep, she was woken up by thunder. It was raining? Fang Miaomiao got up to close the balcony door and faintly heard sobbing. The sound sent a shiver down her spine. Images of the high-definition, uncensored horror movies she'd watched flashed through her mind. Suddenly, there was a "bang" outside the door. Lightning and thunder illuminated the balcony, making the bedroom feel particularly oppressive and eerie. Fang Miaomiao couldn't hold back any longer. "Damn it," she muttered, burrowing under the covers, her eyes tightly shut, and chanting, "Infinite Heavenly Lord, Namo Amitabha Buddha."
The sobbing then began to subside. Next, there was a knock on the door. The sound was so light that Fang Miaomiao almost thought it was an auditory hallucination. Ghosts weren't usually this polite, were they? Fang Miaomiao swallowed, gave herself a mental pep talk, and then cautiously poked her head out from under the blanket. Seeing that there was nothing unusual, she breathed a sigh of relief, got out of bed, and tiptoed to the door. After waiting there for a while, there seemed to be no more sound. "Did I imagine it?" Fang Miaomiao asked herself, opening the door with a mix of doubt and curiosity. Suddenly, a heavy weight appeared at her feet, startling her into turning on the light.
What the heck? Where did this little brat come from? The child was curled up on the floor, looking restless. His face was chubby, and his small, stubby hands were tightly clasped around his arms. Perhaps due to exhaustion, the child on the floor didn't wake up. Instead, his lips pouted, he rolled over, and continued to sleep.
She frowned. Without a doubt, this little brat was her stepson, Wen An An. But she didn't understand why he was at her door. Could it be that he was waiting for the cameras to arrive in the morning to see this scene and make her trend again, with a headline like #Fang Miaomiao Abuses Stepson Unrepentantly#? The thought of a massive online lynching sent goosebumps down her arms. It was no use; even though she had experienced widespread online criticism in her past life, her focus was on desperately filming. After work, she would fall asleep immediately and had no time to read the comments from her detractors. But now, it was different. The thought of Weibo exploding tomorrow gave her a splitting headache. Yet, she wondered if she was overthinking things; a five-year-old child probably didn't have that many schemes.
Fang Miaomiao crouched down, looking at the restless little child sleeping soundly. Finally, she let out a soft sigh and scooped him up, placing him on her bed.
"I owe you, you little brat," Fang Miaomiao said, looking at Wen An An sleeping soundly on the bed. She couldn't resist tapping his forehead, and then prepared to sleep on the sofa.
A resistance came from her finger. Fang Miaomiao looked down. The child's chubby little hand was clutching her little finger, and he was mumbling something. She leaned in closer and heard a faint whisper, "Mama."
Fang Miaomiao's body stiffened. After a moment of stunned silence, she instinctively said, "Kid, are you asleep? Are you faking it?" Even as she said this, Fang Miaomiao tiptoed back to bed, gently patting the child's back, her voice softening as she said, "Good boy, go to sleep. Mommy will find you in your dreams."
Lightning flashed outside, while warmth filled the room.
The next morning, Fang Miaomiao was woken up by a knock on the door. The little brat on the bed was long gone. Startled awake from her slumber, she hurried to open the door.
"Where is Wen An An?"
The maid at the door paused, clearly seeing the disheveled madam for the first time. "To answer the young madam, the young master has already washed up and gone downstairs."
Hearing this, Fang Miaomiao finally breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the door as if she had no bones. "Okay, I got it. I'll go back to sleep for a bit."
The maid nodded subconsciously, then remembered something. "Young Madam, there are staff members outside who claim to be part of the travel program and wish to come in for filming."
Fang Miaomiao's eyes fluttered open again for a moment. She let out a "tsk" with half-closed eyelids. "Mm, let them in."
After a moment, she walked through the bedroom to the bathroom. The mirror on the vanity reflected her almost perfect face. This face was identical to her real-life appearance, just younger. Even without makeup, it could immediately capture someone's attention, especially her pair of captivating, almond-shaped, peach blossom eyes.
Sighing, "Life is hard," Fang Miaomiao quickly washed up and, dressed in loose casual wear, headed downstairs. As expected, when she reached the living room, she saw the little brat in casual clothes sitting on the carpet, quietly playing with his LEGOs. Photographers and staff members were also setting up equipment not far away.