Shang Yechu has a fever.

Perhaps preoccupied with the cold war, Shang Yechu forgot to close the window when she went to sleep that night. The November sea breeze blew all night, and the sofa in the room faced the window. Shang Yechu slept fully clothed, covered only by a thin blanket.

On the morning of the third day, when Yang Huanyi got up to cook, she saw Shang Yechu still lying in bed, but didn't pay any attention to her. It's normal for young people to be sleepy.

Breakfast consisted of unsweetened soy milk and egg whites (yolks removed). After Yang Huanyi and Shang Yechu moved in together, they adopted a rotating system for meals, with each person cooking their own meal on their turn. However, to align with Lin Fengyu's dominance and control over Zhao Lele in the script, Yang Huanyi held the power to buy groceries.

Yang Huanyi maintained the professional lifestyle habits of most female celebrities, buying only chicken breast and fish for groceries every day, without any meat. Seeing that Shang Yechu was slender, she naturally assumed that her eating habits were the same as hers. Shang Yechu had no choice but to comply with Yang Huanyi's expectations and cook birdseed for her every day.

After preparing breakfast, Yang Huanyi hesitated for a moment, then walked to the sofa, intending to wake Shang Yechu.

Upon seeing Shang Yechu's appearance, Yang Huanyi was startled: Shang Yechu's face was flushed, and her forehead was covered in sweat. A few strands of wet hair fell across her face, and her brows were tightly furrowed. When Yang Huanyi reached out to touch her, her head and face were alarmingly hot.

Could it be that I caught a cold from showering yesterday?

A cool breeze blew in, and turning around, Yang Huanyi realized the window was open. He was now certain that Ye Chu had caught a cold.

I initially wanted to rush to call the crew, but then I thought, this is a good opportunity to mend my relationship with Ye Chu. Lin Fengyu taking care of the sick Zhao Lele is a scene in the script. I'll just treat this as practice.

Thinking this, Yang Huanyi stopped in her tracks. Looking at Shang Yechu on the sofa, she prepared to pick her up and carry her to the bed first.

He bent down, wrapping one arm around Shang Yechu's shoulder and back, and the other around her waist. He exerted force twice, the veins on the back of his hands bulging, but he could only move her slightly.

Two years ago, carrying someone in a princess carry would have been as easy as doing a squat for Yang Huanyi. But she hadn't exercised much in the past two years, and her body wasn't as strong as before, so she couldn't even lift her up.

Shang Yechu muttered something.

Yang Huanyi sighed and finally had no choice but to give in and wake Shang Yechu: "Yechu, don't sleep here, you have a fever, go to bed."

Ye Chu slowly opened her eyes and looked at her with a confused expression.

Yang Huanyi repeated, "Don't be angry. If you get sick, it will delay filming even more."

Upon hearing the keyword "filming," Shang Yechu's foggy eyes cleared slightly. She struggled to sit up and rushed to the bed. She stumbled, nearly hitting her head on the floor.

Yang Huanyi quickly caught her, forcefully supporting Shang Yechu's body, and moved her to the bed.

As soon as Shang Yechu sank into the mattress, she was about to close her eyes. Yang Huanyi quickly pulled her back and handed her a bowl of unsweetened soy milk that was barely better than horse urine: "Drink this first."

Shang Yechu turned her face away with a look of bitterness and resentment, answering with her actions.

“You need to take some medicine to get better,” Yang Huanyi said, frowning. “How can you take medicine on an empty stomach? Drink some soy milk first, then eat an egg.”

Shang Yechu reached out and pulled the blanket over her head—the blanket might still be warm from Yang Huanyi's body. She adopted an attitude of refusing to listen to any of Yang Huanyi's nagging.

Yang Huanyi was a little annoyed and raised her voice slightly: "Ye Chu, the artist's body doesn't belong to them, it belongs to the production team."

The head writhed for a while under the covers before finally emerging. Shang Yechu reluctantly sat up, took the soy milk, and drank it all in one gulp.

Yang Huanyi didn't say much. She took the empty bowl away and put a bowl of eggs on the bedside table: "I'll go out and buy you medicine."

"Wait a minute," Shang Yechu suddenly said.

"What's up?"

"Can we not tell Camel about this?" Shang Yechu hesitated for a moment. "And don't tell anyone else either. Especially my agents and the others."

Camel is Luo Yao's nickname because the camel bells make a sound like "Yao," and because of his profession, Luo Yao has a large hump on his neck, just like a camel's hump.

As a new director, Luo Yao didn't have the tyrannical flaws of old-school directors. Aside from the time she lost her temper and swore when Yang Huanyi treated Shang Yechu like a mentally challenged child, she was usually very gentle. The atmosphere on set was good, with everyone laughing and joking. To show their closeness, those who knew Luo Yao affectionately called her Camel.

Yang Huanyi raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask why: "I understand."

————

Watching Yang Huanyi's figure disappear into the distance downstairs, Shang Yechu finally breathed a sigh of relief, left the window, and plopped back down on the bed.

"They're finally gone..."

Having lived alone for two or three years, suddenly having to live with a stranger made Shang Yechu feel as uncomfortable as if she were wearing the wrong person's pants. Now that Yang Huanyi has left Shang Yechu's territory to buy medicine, the king can finally breathe freely.

"Does self-harm feel good?" 103 asked sarcastically.

Shang Yechu reached out and touched her burning forehead, her mind churning like magma: "To be honest, it's quite uncomfortable."

Is it worth it for Yang Huanyi?

"It's not for Yang Huanyi, it's for Zhao Lele and Lin Fengyu," Shang Yechu corrected. "The actresses who made this film in my previous life became Grand Slam Best Actress winners. If I can't do that, wouldn't it prove that my acting skills are inferior to others?"

What Shang Yechu didn't say was that if she knew she wasn't as good as others, it would be shameless to still compete for the script. Only by performing better than the actors in the original timeline could Shang Yechu feel at ease. For this reason, let alone living with Yang Huanyi, even if she were asked to sleep under a bridge, she would pack her bedding and rush there to reserve a spot.

Therefore, while Yang Huanyi was racking her brains to ease the tension with Shang Yechu, Shang Yechu was also pondering how to cultivate an "atmosphere" with Yang Huanyi. There was no way they could fall in love like Zhao Lele and Lin Fengyu. She could only work on the atmosphere and their eye contact.

First, there was Shang Yechu. Yang Huanyi had once usurped her role, taking over her action scenes. Furthermore, Shang Yechu despised Yang Huanyi's attitude of performing well on good scripts but treating bad ones carelessly. Despite Yang Huanyi's professional demeanor on the set of "Anna Doriya," Shang Yechu firmly believed that human nature never changes.

As for Yang Huanyi—Shang Yechu wondered, would she be jealous of her? Shang Yechu was younger than her, had a brighter future, and was a better actress. Even Yang Huanyi's prized action scenes, after two years of neglect, could no longer be used to overshadow her.

In "Anna Doraemon," although Yang Huanyi was the one who brought her own investment to the production, the two were billed equally. In fact, because the billing was based on the first letter of their surnames, Shang Yechu was even listed before Yang Huanyi. Given this, didn't Yang Huanyi feel uncomfortable at all?

Shang Yechu knew that feeling. She had once admired Qi Ming's overwhelming acting skills, envied Shi Shan's unattainable family background and leading role, and resented Zheng Bohan's indifferent indifference. These feelings were like pebbles, always pricking her heart. With such feelings, it was difficult to have genuine interactions with others.