Shrine - Chapter 17
Chapter 17
A minute later, Xin Chen replied with an emoji: OK.
Having been in the industry for a long time, everyone knew how to read between the lines. Shi Ran hadn’t said, “I think she’s suitable,” but rather, “I want to use her.”
Xin Chen wouldn’t ask about the relationship between Shi Ran and Ruan Ruan. She only needed to know that there was a relationship.
Ruan Ruan sat on the bed, gazing at Shi Ran with a vulnerable meekness. Sunlight flowed in her misty eyes. She felt a flicker of flame in her chest, called—so this is how life can be lived. It turned out she could get things effortlessly, without having to explain why to life itself.
Her whole life, it seemed she had always been trying to explain things to fate. When her brother got new clothes, she didn’t; she wore her cousins’ hand-me-downs. She’d explain to herself that this way it wasn’t wasteful, that her mom worked hard for her money, and besides, the clothes were pretty. When her brother was at home studying, she was minding the clothing stall. She’d explain to herself that her brother was quiet and wouldn’t be able to make much money.
She wasn’t a natural at reading people; life had just constantly forced her to.
It turned out there was another kind of life, one where you didn’t have to explain your reasons to anyone. Just like when Shi Ran said she wanted to use Ruan Ruan, no one asked her why. They would rationalize all of Shi Ran’s actions and get to work without a second word.
This feeling, it should be called “exhilarating.” Like being with Shi Ran, a lawless, unrestrained exhilaration.
So unfamiliar, and so addictive.
Ruan Ruan suddenly felt very grateful to Shi Ran. She hadn’t asked her why she chose Qiao Qiao, either. Shi Ran had given her three minutes of “no explanation needed.”
She got dressed and off the bed. Shi Ran got up too, flicking her long hair out from her silk pajamas and going to the bathroom to wash her face.
Ruan Ruan finished washing up first in the outer area and stood at the doorway, asking Shi Ran, “It’s 11 o’clock. What do you want to eat for lunch?”
“Treating me to a meal?” Shi Ran had her head down, cleaning her face with warm water.
“Mhm, is that okay?” Ruan Ruan leaned against the doorframe, asking in a crisp, clear voice.
Shi Ran’s expression was hidden between her ten fingers. “It’s okay.”
“But let’s not go out, it’s not convenient.”
“I’ll cook for you.”
“I don’t have any groceries here.” There was, however, a small Western-style kitchen.
Ruan Ruan thought about it seriously. “Then let’s order takeout.”
“Okay.”
Shi Ran dried her face with a facial towel, looking back at Ruan Ruan in the mirror. Her sleeves and collar were loose, framing a clear and beautiful face.
Ruan Ruan met her gaze and pressed her lips together. But what lingered in her mind was the touch of Shi Ran’s lips. They were truly wonderful to kiss, soft and thin, and even the air they exchanged seemed tinged with an intoxicating fragrance.
She felt it was a little bit awful. The first twenty-some years of her life had been so crowded that she’d had no time to explore things like physical desire. She never expected to get such a taste for it, for it to be so unstoppable once it started.
Skin that had been embraced always felt cold afterward, a faint chill seeping into her pores. Only when caressed could the draft be slightly blocked.
A single drop of water, not fully absorbed, slid down to Shi Ran’s jaw. Shi Ran lifted her head and tilted her face slightly, dabbing it with the facial towel.
Then she lowered her head again to look for her skincare products, unconsciously pressing the back of her right hand against her cheek.
The flame in Ruan Ruan’s heart flickered. If only Shi Ran’s hand were pressing against her own cheek.
She turned and went to the living room to change into the clothes she had brought. As Shi Ran passed the doorway, she glanced out and saw Ruan Ruan’s delicate back. Her scapulae, like butterfly wings, shifted subtly, as if dormant beneath her fair skin. She had dimples on her lower back, and touching them would make her ticklish, causing the small mole beneath her eye to crinkle.
Shi Ran suddenly remembered what Wu Mei had said on the phone, about those “unspoken rules.”
Whether it was Ruan Ruan’s body or her soul, both should be far away from those things. The owner of this body could appear in an artist’s painting or in the frame of an arthouse film, but she should not be displayed at a dinner table laden with alcohol.
But then she felt a daze. What she had done with Ruan Ruan, what did that count as? Had she been any more respectful to Ruan Ruan?
She tucked the corner of her mouth lightly and walked to the closet with a blank expression to pick out her clothes.
When Shi Ran came out again, Ruan Ruan had already brought the takeout in, opened it, and placed it on the dining table. She then took the fruit basket, preparing to wash the grapes she had just bought. She glanced at Shi Ran, who was wearing a haze-blue Ralph Lauren shirt. The material was unique; when she walked, it seemed to be dotted with starlight, noble and mysterious. It was a runway piece from the Spring/Summer 2025 collection. Shi Ran had styled it just like the model, with the buttons done up very low, looking as if she were wearing nothing underneath.
“You’re dressed so beautifully,” Ruan Ruan couldn’t help but ask while washing the grapes.
She then looked down at the T-shirt she was wearing and smiled.
Shi Ran rolled up her cuffs and walked toward the kitchen. “I’m filming an office scene this afternoon. I told the production team I’d use my own clothes.”
“Then you shouldn’t come in here,” Ruan Ruan shooed her away with her eyes. “I’m almost done washing them.”
Shi Ran didn’t press the issue and sat down at the dining table.
Ruan Ruan brought the grapes out. “You don’t have any paper towels here, so I didn’t dry them. But I used purified water, so it’s fine to eat them directly.”
She was a bit more talkative when it came to domestic matters, and it sounded very endearing.
Ruan Ruan sat on the other side and checked the time on her phone. “I’ll leave first after we eat. I have to go get my makeup done.” She felt apologetic, having invited someone to a meal but being unable to stay for the whole thing.
Shi Ran picked up her chopsticks and took some vegetables. “What time is your call?” Going for makeup this early?
“4 o’clock.”
It wasn’t even 12 o’clock yet.
Ruan Ruan wanted to explain that they had to queue for makeup, afraid that an artist like Shi Ran, who had been famous since her debut, wouldn’t know. But on second thought, she probably understood. So she lowered her head and opened her container of rice.
Shi Ran ate quietly for a moment, then said, “If you want, you can use my makeup artist.”
Ruan Ruan’s heart skipped a beat. She moistened her lips and looked at Shi Ran. “I want to.”
She said it in a small voice.
Seemingly surprised by her directness, Shi Ran glanced at her, a hint of a smile in her eyes.
“But my time is already scheduled,” she added, almost in a whisper.
“If you want, Xiao Lin can talk to the production team for you.”
“I want to.”
This time, Shi Ran let out a faint, breathy laugh. She put down her chopsticks and sent a message to Xiao Lin.
Ruan Ruan felt it again—that feeling of being an exception, as if she had topped up a huge amount of money in a video game. Levels that were once difficult were now as easy as walking on flat ground, ridiculously easy to pass.
Just this once, she’d experience it. No, maybe it could be more than once. If she became a lead actress in the future, she wouldn’t have to go back to the shared makeup room.
She took small bites of her rice. “Thank you.”
It had to be said, Shi Ran really liked the way Ruan Ruan said “I want to” in front of her. She observed Ruan Ruan’s gradually externalized desires as if watching her own desires grow. After their one intimate encounter, they seemed to have become a collective entity sharing the same desire. When one said “I want,” the other would follow with an “I want” of her own. Together, they were demanding things from the future.
As Shi Ran was pondering this, Ruan Ruan spoke up tentatively, “I have a question I want to ask you.”
“Mhm.”
“You said before that I knew how to find you, and you mentioned putting a little cat at your place,” Ruan Ruan paused. “So, you knew…”
“Mhm.”
Ruan Ruan was silent for a moment, her heart pounding. It took a dozen seconds before she continued, “Then why didn’t you ask me why I wanted to get close to you?”
“Why?” Shi Ran finally asked.
Holding her half-eaten bowl of rice, Ruan Ruan said in a thin voice, “I want to be famous.”
“I don’t want to do my makeup at dawn and then wait around for an entire day.” She had comforted Wu Mei by saying the makeup artists also had it tough, but she was really comforting herself.
“I don’t want to run from one production to another, waiting by my phone for someone to choose me, so scared of my service getting cut off.”
“I don’t want to see a role I absolutely love go to someone else every time, while I watch it on TV at home, thinking about how I would have played it.”
“I don’t want to tell myself ‘it doesn’t matter’ anymore.”
It did matter. It clearly did. A single sentence from Shi Ran could save her from rushing around for hours. The difference was so huge, how could it not matter? She lowered her gaze and blinked. There was a faint wetness in her eyes, but she held it back, biting her lip as she stared at the cooling rice.
“So, thank you very much,” Ruan Ruan said in a low voice.
No matter how Shi Ran saw it, no matter how Shi Ran defined their intersection, she was very grateful to her.
“Mhm,” Shi Ran pursed her lips, a rare hesitation. Her eyes remained devoid of emotion, blinking impassively. After a pause, she continued, “And if, in the future, I look for you, not for any other reason, but just because I want to be happy?”
Ruan Ruan froze, looking up at her, unable to process it.
Just wanting to be happy means…
“Last night, and this morning, I was a little happy.”
Shi Ran said, looking at her with a cool expression.
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