The Novelist Forced to Become Famous

Chapter 178

Previously going through ups and downs, she had finally cracked the code to St. Angel and obtained the memories of “Jian Jing”, so she unconsciously thought that information was correct.

However, the difficulties were caused by accidents. For “Jian Jing”, these were not problems.

She needed to break free of inherent impressions and look at everything from an outsider’s perspective.

But too much had happened recently, her brain hadn’t properly rested, and she felt a little irritable. So she simply put aside everything related to the case and didn’t think about it, doing more manual labor instead.

Mechanical labor could alleviate the fatigue in her brain without making her feel muddled like sleep did.

Moreover, after tidying up the room until it was clean, she felt her mind was much clearer than the jumbled past few days.

Jian Jing iced a bottle of fruit wine and ordered two desserts, preparing to fully enjoy half a day of leisure.

Go back to school? No problem, she took time off.

Attend class? Her advisor said not to worry about it. He had already assigned her a thesis topic, so she could just write the paper when she had time.

It hadn’t been a waste to choose the most “open-minded” teacher back then.

She had just opened the wine bottle when the doorbell rang.

She went to answer it, and it was actually Jiang BaiYan. He wore a duckbill cap and mask, carried a cat-shaped backpack, and furtively looked around outside the entrance.

“Pudding?” Jian Jing called out.

On the camera, the tubby big face of a cat appeared.

She laughed and opened the door to let them in.

As soon as Jiang BaiYan entered, he let Pudding out first. It twisted its fat body with overly agile movements and leaped into Jian Jing’s arms, meowing “meow, meow”.

“Did you just take a bath? You smell so nice.” Jian Jing buried her face in the cat’s fur and took a deep sniff.

“Yes, I took him to get groomed and his claws trimmed today,” Jiang BaiYan said. “Don’t be fooled by him. He’s trying to trick you into giving him food again. The doctor said we have to control his weight.”

Jian Jing held him up and weighed him, sighing, “He gained weight again.”

“Oh no.” The owner was worried. “When I go film, I’ll send him to pet school. They can help him lose weight.”

Jian Jing: “...”

Born a cat yet still having to attend school, how miserable.

Who knew the next miserable one would be her.

Jiang BaiYan saw the succulents on the balcony and gasped, “Teacher Jingjing! The succulents!”

Jian Jing: “Uh...” She shifted sideways to subtly block his path, “Have a seat, would you like a drink?”

Jiang BaiYan stopped in his tracks at her obstruction but his head didn’t rest, craning to take a pained look, “The claws are all gone.”

Jian Jing had no choice but to admit her mistake, “I was out for a few days. The auntie who waters them for me probably overwatered them, maybe the roots rotted?”

Jiang BaiYan said, “They need ample sunlight but can’t be directly exposed. They can’t be underwatered or overwatered.”

Her: “I was wrong.”

“Don’t say that.” He rolled up his sleeves to comfort her, “Succulents are hard to raise. I killed so many at first too before slowly learning how. Let me help trim them for you.”

He took gardening shears and carefully clipped away the unhealthy parts, his expression as serious as a surgeon’s.

Jian Jing came over holding Pudding to watch the fun.

Pudding curiously stretched its neck to sniff and inspect the plump succulents, extremely intrigued by them.

“Be good, don’t bite.” Jiang BaiYan held back its head with one hand while loosening the soil in the compact pot with a small trowel in the other.

Jian Jing asked, “What can you drink? What drinks are allowed?”

“Any unsweetened drinks are fine,” he said. “I already signed the contract. Director Mei said I don’t need to strictly control my physique this time, just maintain a normal level, but I still need to build more muscle mass. I’ve been drinking protein powder every day lately, it’s making me nauseous.”

Jian Jing felt very sympathetic. “That sounds so tiring.”

“It’s really hard to build muscle,” he complained. “If I eat a little more, my abs disappear. Having to eat so much protein every day is gross.”

Jian Jing poured him a cold Americano and took away the snacks on the table.

Jiang BaiYan: “Teacher Jingjing!”

Her: “?”

“I thought you would be more polite.” He was deeply disappointed. “Then I could’ve said it was Teacher who told me to eat it, I was only listening to Teacher which is why I ate a little more.”

Jian Jing: “Pfft.”

“I want to eat cake too.” He was utterly depressed. “Don’t you think Pudding wants snacks too?”

Pudding: “Meow!”

“But we can’t eat them.” He was cruelly unmoved.

Pudding: “...”

Jian Jing struggled not to laugh.

Jiang BaiYan made a funny face, changing the subject, “I came today because I wanted to ask Teacher Jingjing about the script. I got the full script and skimmed through it twice already.”

Jian Jing’s head hurt. “Don’t ask me. Just seeing the script gives me a headache.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He smiled and said, “I wanted to ask if Teacher has any requirements for the role. Do you want me to appear more rugged, cold, or handsome?”

It was a good question. The script was just text. Brought to life by different actors, the temperament would be vastly different.

She thought carefully for a while before saying, “I hope you look more beautiful, not too manly.”

In fact, there were many actors vying for the role of the assassin this time. Jiang BaiYan was the youngest, the others ranged from 25-35, each with their own charm.

But Jian Jing didn’t want the assassin to be too masculine.

The more masculine traits, the heavier the testosterone, the easier it was to be conscious he was a man.

Definitions of man and girl would distort the story’s quality. The ambiguity between genders would ruin the original feeling.

“More beautiful, like a tree, a bird, a white cloud,” she said.

Jiang BaiYan looked contemplative. “So their relationship, it’s love but not sexual?” He scratched his head. “That’s a bit hard to express.”

“Young people should bravely accept challenges.” Jian Jing offered meaningless chicken soup.

Jiang BaiYan pouted but didn’t say anything more, turning to the script to ponder it instead. When he worked he was focused and serious, not seeming reluctant at all.

Jian Jing couldn’t help asking, “Do you like acting?”

Jiang BaiYan lifted his head and thought for a while before saying, “Acting allows pretending. Mistakes don’t matter. I feel it’s much simpler than life. Breaking free of one’s original identity to portray someone else also feels like a vacation.”

“The way you put it,” she hesitantly asked, “is being yourself tiring?”

“Being a celebrity is tiring,” Jiang BaiYan mumbled, head resting on his folded arms over the chair back. “Maintaining your figure, managing your expressions, nurturing connections, and not having many real friends.”

Jian Jing reached out and stroked his head.

He didn’t shy away, instead shifting closer, half coquettish, half beseeching, “Don’t think I’m fickle, complaining while still doing it.”

She scratched under Pudding's chin, smiling, “I didn’t say that.”

Jiang BaiYan, satisfied, whispered some gossip, “Our industry looks glamorous, but it’s very easy for problems to occur. That psychiatric clinic I go to, at least seven or eight colleagues also see the doctors there.”

Jian Jing was shocked. “You’re seeing a psychiatrist?”

“It was Lin Jie’s idea,” he waved his hand. “It proves I’ve always had psychological issues, an unhappy childhood, suffered cold abuse, things like that. So if the Jiang family comes after me one day, I won’t be too passive.”

Her: “Your agent is quite...far-sighted.”

“Lin Jie is amazing. Most problems are not problems in her hands. Jingjing Teacher is also amazing, the most amazing to me,” he finished praising his agent then sneakily reaffirmed his loyalty. “Jingjing Teacher is the most amazing in my heart.”

Usually she would dismiss sugared compliments with a laugh.

But this time, Jian Jing was moved and couldn’t help taking it seriously, “Don’t overestimate me like that. I’m not as amazing as you think.”

She felt Jiang BaiYan looked at her through a white cat filter, righteous and good, never defeated. But the white kitten was fictional. Characters on the page would be invincible if the author wished it so.

Reality was not the same.

Everyone would fail, everyone made mistakes.

“I’m an ordinary person just like you,” she looked into his eyes and sincerely said, “I fail, I fear, I make mistakes.”

“Oh—” He blinked, a slyness appearing in his pitch dark pupils, “Then what is Teacher Jingjing afraid of?”

Her: ???

Was this little fox deliberately trying to pry something out of her? Her previous mood instantly vanished. Jian Jing impatiently said, “Afraid of dying.”

"Are you angry?" He scooted over and sat next to her, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Don't be angry, talk to me, I've told you everything."

Jian Jing picked up the pudding and smeared it on his face: "Stay away from me."

"No." He snatched the pudding, held it by the back of its neck, and threw it aside. "You seem very stressed. Why? Can I help you? I'll do anything, just tell me."

Jian Jing denied: "It's nothing."

"You do have something on your mind," Jiang BaiYan said. "Your face has lost its glow and you have dark circles under your eyes."

She was startled and reflexively touched her cheek: "Really?"

He nodded firmly.

"But I don't understand. I don't have a new book coming out recently, the movies and TV shows are going well." Jiang BaiYan was genuinely puzzled. "What are you worried about? An award nomination?"

At this point, Jian Jing could no longer evade his questioning. She vaguely said: "It's something else."

He asked: "Can I help you with it?"

She shook her head.

"Should we tell Kang Mu Cheng about it?" Jiang BaiYan asked again.

Jian Jing smiled: "It's unrelated to my work, Kang Mu Cheng can't help either."

"Oh," he made a meaningless sound and suddenly fell silent. But his gaze lingered on her face.

Jian Jing felt uneasy under his stare and couldn't help asking: "Does my face really look that bad?" As she spoke, she already took out her phone to book an aesthetic service.

"Not that bad," he said. "It's just, Teacher Jing should relax a bit. Do you want to keep Pudding for a few more days? It can keep you company."

She was a little tempted but held back: "Not now. I'm going away in a few days. I really can't take good care of it." Her tone was apologetic.

"You mustn't think like that," Jiang BaiYan said solemnly. "If there's no one waiting for you at home, how lonely it must feel returning to an empty house. Even a plant is better than nothing."

Jian Jing was lost in thought for a moment, then smiled: "You're right."

The home in this world is indeed too cold and empty. There are no parents, no pets. Sometimes when she opens the door, the first feeling is not warmth, but wariness about whether everything is still in place.

It is also absurd.

"It's time for my appointment." Jiang BaiYan looked at his watch and hurriedly started packing up. He also advised her, "You can adopt a cat too, so you'll have company when playing."

Jian Jing was tempted but held herself back: "Let's talk about it later."

He didn't insist: "Then I'll go back first. Pudding can stay a while longer, my assistant will come pick it up tonight."

This was perfect, she readily agreed: "Okay."

Before leaving, Jiang BaiYan repeatedly reminded her: "Don't give in and feed it snacks."

Jian Jing: "I know..."

When Jiang BaiYan arrived at the psychologist's office, he was already more than 5 minutes late.

"Thanks for the red envelope," the refined psychologist pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and smiled. "You have 55 minutes left."

Jiang BaiYan didn't care about that little money. He made himself comfortable on the seat and rested his head as he looked at his doctor. If Jian Jing could somehow see this scene, she would definitely be very surprised.

Because the current Jiang BaiYan was completely different from how he was at home just half an hour ago. There was none of that coquettish charm, instead he seemed rather cold.

But the psychologist was not surprised at all. He calmly recounted: "How was your sleep this week? How many hours on average?"

"Around five or six hours," he said. "The sleeping pills work well."

"You don't have physiological insomnia. Try not to take medicine if possible," the doctor said.

Jiang BaiYan said: "I think it's fine."

"You can't sleep because you have things on your mind," the doctor gently asked, "Would you like to talk about what's bothering you?"

"What's bothering me huh..." He unexpectedly cooperated and answered, "I was wondering, what kind of man would a woman like?"

The psychologist looked up in surprise, then a faint smile appeared at the corners of his lips. Gently, he said: "Good question."