Chapter 57: He is Her Lover

Chapter 57: He Was Her Beloved

When Song Tan entered the room, Song Chuqing was still awake, doodling on her tablet with Aqi by her side.

Seeing her, the little one beamed, "Mommy, you're back!"

Song Tan set down her bag and walked over to the bed to hug her.

Her daughter smelled sweet and felt soft, as if she could soak up all her worries and tiredness.

After holding her for a while, the little girl squirmed in her tight hug. "Ugh, Mommy... I can't breathe!"

The woman, feeling a little better, loosened her grip and kissed her. "Whatcha drawing, sweetie?"

"I'm drawing!" Song Chuqing picked up her tablet to share. "Look, this is our home! There's Daddy, Mommy, Great-Grandpa, and me!"

The drawing was simple—a big house with little stick figures, the whole family neatly arranged. Song Tan stared at it for several seconds before praising, "Xiao Chu drew so well!"

"Heehee."

"Mommy needs to shower, then come back to sleep with Xiao Chu."

The clueless little one was delighted. "Yay! Okay!"

She kept her toiletries and clothes in the master bedroom, so she had to go back to get them.

As she stepped out, she bumped into the man coming upstairs. She glanced at him and was about to walk away when he grabbed her hand. Ji Fuxi murmured her name.

Song Tan turned back and pasted on a smile. "Honestly, I’m fine. I’m just feeling a little off and need to sort through it."

Ji Fuxi studied her and said quietly, "You can talk to me."

Talk to him?

Song Tan blanked for a moment. Would it even help?

But how?

Her parents divorced, and she raised herself, with no one to lean on growing up.

Most of her teens were spent studying. She started acting in her first year of university and never really clicked with anyone.

Zhao Geyun was a close colleague and friend, but their conversations mostly revolved around work, rarely getting personal.

She’d always envied people with ride-or-dies, those who had best friends to confide in and share with, to be each other’s emotional support. But night after lonely night, she had been her own best friend, dealing with her own mess, so she no longer needed others.

And nobody sticks around forever. Even her own parents had left—how much more so a husband who came into her life later?

Song Tan’s gaze drifted from his eyes to the hand holding hers. His hands were beautiful—slender fingers, distinct knuckles, faint veins now standing out slightly, all strength and tension, just like when they spanned her waist at night.

She stared for a while, her fingers flexing slightly, but in the end, she gently eased her hand free and whispered, "Really, I’m fine. I’m just a little tired today. Let’s talk tomorrow."

She needed a little time—just a little. She’d feel better after sleeping on it.

Entering the room, Song Tan showered in the master bedroom. When she came out, no one was there, so she returned to Song Chuqing’s room.

The little girl was still awake. Song Tan climbed into bed and tucked her close. "What story tonight, baby?"

Song Chuqing studied her face for a long moment before reaching out to touch her face. "Mommy, why’re you sad?"

Song Tan froze, surprised by her sensitivity.

She smiled and gave a simple explanation. "Yes, Mommy’s a little sad. Work’s being mean."

Song Chuqing pouted angrily. "Bad work! Mean work!"

This time, Song Tan really laughed. "That’s right. Bad work, mean work."

"Mommy, Ryder says we gotta tackle stuff head-on. No job’s too tough for tough pups! So don’t be scared, Mommy."

The little girl spoke gently, filling Song Tan’s heart with fresh warmth.

Who said she had no friends? Song Chuqing was her best friend—her lifelong best friend.

Song Tan smacked a loud kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, baby."

Song Chuqing then asked, "Where’s Daddy?"

"Daddy’s in the other room."

Song Chuqing thought "outside" meant outside the house and grew upset again. Daddy still wasn’t back? How rude! She touched her mom’s face again. "Mommy, don’t be mad at Daddy, okay?"

Song Tan was once again stunned by the little girl’s perceptiveness. She wasn’t angry at Ji Fuxi—it was just that tonight’s emotions were partly because of him. Could Song Chuqing really sense that?

"Mommy’s not mad at Daddy."

"Mm, but if Mommy really is mad, you can make Daddy stand in the corner. I’ll help you!"

"Deal. Thank you, baby~" She cuddled her close and patted her back. "Sleep now."

……

The little girl in her arms soon fell asleep, and the small alarm clock on the bedside table ticked away as the hour hand circled.

But Song Tan couldn’t sleep at all.

By seven, the morning light streamed in through the window. She carefully got up, trying not to wake the little one.

It was Saturday—Song Chuqing didn’t have to wake up early.

As she left the room, she glanced at the master bedroom. It was quiet—he must still be asleep.

Downstairs, Aunt Jiang, who was making breakfast in the kitchen, peeked out. "Tantan, you’re up so early?"

"Yeah, I still have some work." Song Tan headed straight for the entryway.

"Ah? You’re leaving already? Not eating breakfast?"

"No, Aunt Jiang. I’ll go now."

As soon as the front door closed, Aunt Jiang turned and saw the man standing at the top of the stairs on the second floor. She couldn’t help but say, "She still has work on a weekend? Tantan works too hard."

Ji Fuxi smiled helplessly and turned to check on their daughter.

……

At eight, Song Tan arrived at the studio, ready to work. No matter what outsiders said, she had to focus on her own tasks.

She had issued a statement last night, and Zhao Geyun had suppressed the online buzz. Now, there was hardly any noise online—a good thing, no matter what.

The phone that hadn't been checked all night was full of unread messages.

Jian Jing, still on her maternity leave, sent over a dozen texts in a row: "Teacher Song, don’t let the malicious forces get you down. We all know your capabilities—some people just can’t stand others doing well. You really shouldn’t take it to heart."

"Hold on for me. Once I’m out of confinement, I’ll come to the capital to see you."

"Teacher Song, you’re amazing!"

Even colleagues she’d collaborated with before, including Song Zongbo, who she hadn't been in touch with for a long time, sent words of comfort.

Cen Zishu, Zhu Fan, and some colleagues from the production team also reposted her Weibo to voice their support.

Unable to see these last night, Song Tan now responded to each one to express her gratitude.

At nine o’clock, Zhao Geyun arrived early. She collapsed onto the office sofa the moment she entered. "I’m exhausted—I was up until two or three last night."

Song Tan knew she’d been busy with her own affairs. "I appreciate your effort, Geyun."

"Not hard at all." Zhao Geyun glanced at her. "But I doubt anyone will dare talk nonsense again."

"What did you do?"

"Not me—your husband. Questioning those suspicious claims in such a public forum was bold. Last night, we spent some time tracking down the instigator. The supposed 'bystander' was paid off, and we traced it step by step to a rival company with a movie set to release during National Day. The evidence is solid. Today, we’re filing a police report and suing."

Whether that company’s movie would still release was another matter, but the company itself will probably go under and change hands to the Jis.

Zhao Geyun added, "Zhuang Cheng mentioned your husband has a lunch meeting with senior officials today. There might be further actions. Honestly, it’s about time. Online trolls and marketing accounts have been spreading lies for traffic and money—they need to be regulated."

Despite her years in the industry, Zhao Geyun sometimes felt powerless.

Song Tan had a husband, but many ordinary people didn’t. These days, a few baseless accusations could destroy lives.

The woman across from her stayed tight-lipped. Zhao Geyun reassured her, "Tantan, don’t dwell on it. We see who you are. Time will prove everything."

Song Tan smiled. She wasn’t overthinking anymore.

Last night, she’d asked herself: What did she want? Others' approval? Or simply to do what she loved? Was success defined by others’ opinions? Would a couple remarks negate her entire life? If so, she’d be far too fragile.

She wasn’t Ji Fuxi’s accessory—she was her own person.

She acknowledged her emotions and had the strength to process and move past them.

Her momentary distraction now was for another reason.

Song Tan opened her mouth, hesitated, then finally asked, "Was he busy all night?"

"Probably. He replied to messages quickly, at least." Zhao Geyun finally understood what she meant and tsked. "Wait, you didn’t know about Ji Fuxi’s actions? You weren’t together?"

Receiving no answer, Zhao Geyun grew more puzzled. "Did you two fight?"

Song Tan laughed and pushed her playfully. "No fights. Just work—there’s a lot to do."

"Really? Then why are you here so early? And you don’t even know what your husband’s up to?"

"..."

Zhao Geyun dropped the subject. At the door, she turned back. "Lunch is on me. Heard there’s a good new Japanese restaurant nearby."

"Sure."

...

They went to a mall for lunch, joined by Tao Tao, Zhong Chen, and two other colleagues.

Tao Tao and Zhong Chen kept up a lively chatter, keeping Zhao Geyun, the boss picking up the tab, entertained with constant laughter.

The Japanese restaurant was on the third floor, accessible by escalator.

The mall’s central atrium was lined with ads, and the group immediately noticed the centerpiece display.

A stunning woman held a bag with one hand, her gaze confident and elegant.

Song Tan was a little surprised. "They went with physical advertisements?" She remembered the plan had focused on online promotions.

Zhao Geyun explained, "Yeah, about three or four months ago. We signed an addendum to the contract."

Having been busy preparing for filming then, Song Tan nodded in understanding.

Zhong Chen chimed in, "This is nothing. The one in the city center’s been up for three months straight. I see it every day during my commute."

Tao Tao, who’d also been on set for three months, exclaimed. "Isn’t that one paid by the day? Wow, this brand’s really sparing no expense."

"How much per day?"

No one knew, so they all looked at Zhao Geyun.

She shrugged. "Why ask me? Talk to the lady boss. Besides, it’s all family business—no need for payments."

Eyes turned to Song Tan, who said, "...I don’t know."

She genuinely didn’t.

This endorsement wasn’t high-profile enough to warrant such lavish ad placements. Ji Fuxi must have had a hand in it.

Feeling conflicted, she fell silent.

At the restaurant, they settled into a private room and eagerly ordered, determined to run up Zhao Geyun's bill.

As they chatted over food, Tao Tao fumed, "I knew last night was premeditated. Those people are despicable."

Zhang Yue, the accountant, sighed. "Too many malicious people out there. Hard to guard against."

"Well, when our film releases, it’ll prove them wrong."

Zhao Geyun warned, "Change the subject. Be careful what you say."

Tao Tao muttered, "Still makes me mad."

Zhong Chen poured water and casually asked, "Zhang-jie, why are you working today?"

Zhang Yue waved a hand. "There's been so much work lately. Wanted to wrap things up and get everyone paid. Besides, work is my refuge now. Things at home are chaotic—I’d rather not go back."

A colleague who knew her well asked, "How come, fighting with your husband again?"

"Every damn day. How can someone be so incompetent? He washes clothes but forgets to hang them, then accused me this morning for being lazy and making him do everything." Zhang Yue downed half her tea. "I’m not going back tonight. Let him think about what he's done."

Tao Tao laughed, "Sister Zhang, what if your husband doesn't reflect?"

Zhang Yue shot her a look, "He wouldn't dare! If he doesn’t come pick me up today, I’ll pack up and go back to my parents’ house."

Tao Tao gave a thumbs-up, "Sister Zhang, you really know how to manage your husband."

"Ah, you girls are all too young—you wouldn’t understand. Marriage has lots of little complexities; it’s all about compromise. I have a bad temper, and he’s not the quickest. We bicker every other day and have bigger fights every few days, and that’s just how we live."

Zhang Yue turned to the other married woman present, "Sister Tan, do you and President Ji ever argue?"

Tao Tao interjected, "I don’t think Sister Tan and President Ji would argue."

The woman who had been silently listening looked up, "Why do you say that?"

Tao Tao answered without hesitation, "President Ji loves you so much—how could he ever argue with you?"

Song Tan went still.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Lowering her head, she saw a message on her phone:

Ji Fuxi: "Had lunch yet?"

Ji Fuxi: "Pei Qiu and Ji Jiangdie will be home for dinner tonight."

Song Tan stared at the messages for a long time before replying, "Okay, I’m eating now."

She put her phone down.

When her food came, she picked it up again and typed, "What about you? Have you eaten?"

Ji Fuxi: "Eating now. At a work dinner."

Song Tan turned off her phone.

The conversation at the table had already moved on. She focused on her meal, not letting herself think about it.

After lunch, she continued working in the afternoon.

By around six, her colleagues working late had left one after another. Zhao Geyun came over and asked, "It’s Saturday—aren’t you going home yet?"

"Just wrapping up the last bit. I’ll leave when I’m done."

"Alright, don’t work too late." Zhao Geyun clicked away in her high heels.

She had spent the afternoon reviewing the week’s edited footage, making her neck stiff. Song Tan stood and stretched near the window.

Late summer, early autumn—the capital looked its best.

The sky was a deep blue, the clouds edged with brilliant hues.

The city streets were packed, cars flowing in all directions—some going home, others on their way elsewhere.

Song Tan’s gaze lifted to the residential complex across the street.

The studio was in the old city’s commercial district. The surrounding buildings weren’t as grand as downtown, but it had more local flavor.

Old folks and kids came and went through the neighborhood gates, and street vendors were doing brisk business.

She found herself missing Song Chuqing.

And… though work was set aside, some things were still up in the air.

Song Tan turned back, turned off her computer, packed her bag, and switched off the lights before leaving.

Her car was in the underground parking lot.

Her steps halted a few yards away when she spotted a familiar figure by her car.

Probably coming straight from his dinner meeting, the man wore a tailored dark brown suit, the sharp cut emphasizing his cool, controlled presence.

His back was turned as he spoke on the phone, his posture straight, his profile stern—clearly discussing something serious.

A ripple passed through Song Tan’s calm heart.

She'd been up all night—not because of the gossip, not because of work. Rushing out without breakfast this morning wasn’t about work either.

She had prepared for the worst—choosing between her career and Ji Fuxi—but she wasn't as sure of the answer anymore.

She wanted both.

"Ji Fuxi," as her daughter’s father, as the other half of her growing affection, had long become part of her life's fabric. She no longer had the option to walk away.

So she had been uncertain, thinking all night without clarity. Only today did her thoughts begin to clear. Every moment since signing the agreement replayed in her mind.

Now, his sudden appearance only confirmed it—as a father, he had always been walking toward Xiao Chu. As a partner, he'd never stopped coming toward her. Tao Tao said he loved her—maybe others could see it better.

She wasn’t perfect, she had her flaws, and she retreated into her shell at the first sign of trouble. Being brave took real effort.

Unlike him, who would take her hand and ask her to confide in him, who got here before she did.

The man ended his call and turned around.

A car passed behind him, its headlights illuminating him. Song Tan saw the light in his eyes.

Their gazes met in the air.

She thought—she should walk toward him too. Trust him, rely on him, love him.

He was her beloved. She wouldn’t give him up.

As she took a step forward, he was already striding toward her, step by step, closing the distance.

When he reached her, Song Tan caught the faint scent of wine on him—a pleasant grape-like aroma.

She tilted her head up, a smile curving her lips, "What are you doing here?"

Ji Fuxi smiled faintly, his dark, fathomless eyes holding hers, "I was afraid you’d run off again."