02 Retreat to the Mountains, Attracting a Cat to the Hills
“Attorney Zhang, right? I called you because I wanted to ask if there’s a legal way for me to retreat to the mountains and live in seclusion?”
This was the one and only question Fan Chen anxiously asked when she met the lawyer.
“Huh?”
Attorney Zhang was flustered. In his 20 years of practice, he had never encountered such a request. Suddenly, it all made sense—no wonder they met in a psychiatric ward. Could the people staying here ever have normal requests?
Failed to crash a wedding, failed to end her life, and now—this cringe-worthy heartbreak drama had Fan Chen continuously performing outrageous acts. She had to admit, the unexpected betrayal—her ex secretly getting married behind her back—had driven her slightly insane.
Now, humiliated to this extent, she couldn’t salvage her pride. So, she decided to fully embrace her “insanity” by retreating to the mountains. It might sound laughable, but Zhang Jie secretly marrying someone else had already made her a joke. What difference would one more laugh make?
Closeted for over a decade, she had endured rules and frameworks that didn’t suit her. She loved once, and she hated once.
Aunt Fan felt that Earth had lost its charm. The bustling, noisy world drained and bored her. Now, she only wanted a quiet corner to live a peaceful little life.
After preparing everything, she hiked up the Hanging Temple to seek a fortune stick before leaving.
The stick’s fortune was mediocre: The crane is in a cage, the fish swims in a cauldron. Pear blossoms open with rain, golden chrysanthemums bloom without flowers.
She took the fortune to a monk in the temple and chatted for over an hour. She came close to shaving her head and joining the monastery.
Her mother’s phone call, urging her to come home for dinner, interrupted everything. I mean, it stopped her impulse to join the monastery, not her plan to retreat to the mountains.
In the end, she still moved to the mountains.
**【A Year Later】**
Seeing the fan messages flooding the screen with virtual gifts, Shen Nanqiao froze for a moment. She smiled helplessly, rubbed her forehead, and sighed, “You all aren’t listening again. I told you not to send gifts during my livestream, but you broke the rules again, didn’t you?”
“Aaaaaah! That doting gaze! I’m melting! I’m melting! Baby, slay me!”
“Baby girl’s smile is so charming! I love it, I love it!”
“Nanqiao! Mama loves you!”
“To the new fans: Nanqiao considers that many of her followers are minors and doesn’t want to set a bad example, so she discourages sending gifts!”
“55555 (crying sounds) How is my idol so thoughtful? So kind and sweet!”
Shen Nanqiao casually scrolled through the avalanche of love confessions and smiled as she explained, “I just happened to finish work early today, so I thought I’d livestream for half an hour to update everyone on how I’ve been doing.”
She clasped her hands together with an extremely sincere look in her eyes. “Seriously, don’t send gifts anymore. I just want to chat with you all.”
Behind the professional smile on her face was Shen Nanqiao’s internal eye-roll: Seriously? I’m an actress, not some social media influencer making a living off tips like those beautified AI hosts!
The moment she mentioned “finished work,” questions about her new drama flooded in like a tidal wave.
“Is the new drama filming? I can’t wait!”
“No matter how busy you are, Qiao Qiao, take care of yourself! Rest well! By the way, when will ‘Dragon Girl’ start shooting?”
“Where is the new drama being filmed? Can we visit the set?”
“How come not a single photo from the set has leaked? This generation of managers is slacking...”
“Is it ‘Dragon Girl’? Is it ‘Dragon Girl’? Is it ‘Dragon Girl’? Important questions get asked three times!”
Shen Nanqiao’s face flashed with a hint of embarrassment. She initially planned to rant about the unreliable production team, but as soon as she started: “This new drama—”
The tablet screen connected to her computer instantly lit up. A message popped up from her manager, labeled “Big Sis Agent,” with just two short words: “End stream.”
Shen Nanqiao glanced at the screen’s bottom-right corner at the time and continued, “It’ll come when it’s time. Be patient~ Okay, today’s livestream ends here!”
“What? Only 28 minutes? You heartless woman!”
“Protest! Protest!”
“Stream for five more minutes!”
“Everyone, go to bed early and don’t stay up late! Be good~ Love you all!”
Shen Nanqiao waved enthusiastically at the screen, maintaining her professional smile until the livestream ended. As soon as her computer shut down, she called her manager.
The phone, on speaker, connected to the Bluetooth ceiling speaker. As soon as Liu Haiyan answered, she chuckled nervously, “Nanqiao? Still not asleep?”
Shen Nanqiao had just removed one of her earrings in front of the mirror. She tossed it onto the dressing table impatiently. “Sis Haiyan—what’s the deal with ‘Dragon Girl’? If this drags on any longer—!”
Liu Haiyan stretched out her words, cutting her off mid-sentence, “Alright—didn’t I already explain? The director insists on shooting on location, and the scriptwriter has their heart set on a spot that perfectly matches the script. But the place hasn’t been secured yet. Once it’s finalized, filming will start immediately! Nanqiao, patience is a virtue. Good things take time.”
Removing the cotton pads from her eyes, Shen Nanqiao opened them to see her own frustrated and disheveled reflection in the dressing mirror. Her temper flared. “You said the same thing a month ago! Haiyan, you know exactly what I’ve been going through lately. If I don’t release something new to shift focus, I’m finished!”
If she couldn’t make it in showbiz anymore, wouldn’t Shen Shichang be laughing at her?
Liu Haiyan, bombarded by her machine-gun mouth, couldn’t get a word in edgewise and sighed deeply. “Sigh, you—”
Speaking of Shen Nanqiao’s situation, oh, there’s plenty to talk about.
Playing diva, rolling her eyes on camera, fighting with fans on her main account, liking hate comments about her rivals, cursing at fans meeting her at the airport, hogging the spotlight in group photos with seniors, and being so vain she arrived late on the red carpet...
The words “You reap what you sow” hovered on Liu Haiyan’s lips, but before she could finish her thought, Shen Nanqiao’s voice interrupted her once again:
“Besides, we agreed last year that I’d use this project to go for the Golden Award! If I miss this chance, I’ll have to wait another three years. Who knows how many three-year chances I’ll have left in this industry?”
“Sweetheart, don’t think like that. You’re still young; there are plenty of opportunities ahead!”
“Don’t try to comfort me, Haiyan. I’m really anxious right now.” Shen Nanqiao dragged her tired legs to the bathroom, turned on the bathtub faucet, and returned to the room with a pout. “Last year, I even made a bet with Shen Shichang. If I don’t win this award, he’ll drag me back to inherit the family business.”
Honestly, does that even sound human? Liu Haiyan thought she wanted to turn over a new leaf and shed her “pretty vase” label, all to build a solid career. Turns out, this heiress to the Shen Group, worth three billion dollars, just wanted to make it big in showbiz to dodge being a rich daddy’s girl.
“Don’t worry! Just listen to me. I finally found out today why securing that piece of land has been so hard. I was planning to explain it all to you in person tomorrow.”
“Tell me now!”
Rolling up her light brown hair, Shen Nanqiao walked barefoot into the bathroom, stripping off her clothes as she went, leaving them scattered across the floor.
The room echoed with Liu Haiyan’s long-winded explanation: “So here’s the thing—you might not believe it at first. The land the scriptwriter has their heart set on has been privately leased since last year for someone to live in seclusion...”
Seclusion?
“What?” Shen Nanqiao thought she misheard, slapping the faucet to stop the water so Liu Haiyan’s voice would come through more clearly.
“Yes, you heard that right. Someone’s been hiding away on Heshan Mountain. Two thousand acres of forest, leased for fifty years—just for one person.”
“What a joke! Living in seclusion? You might as well tell me the mountain is home to Jurassic creatures, and the crew can’t tame the wild beasts, so filming is delayed. That would sound more believable than some extravagant hermit!”
Shen Nanqiao stepped into the bathtub, lay back, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and massaged her temples.
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, which is why I wanted to explain in person. The crew tried every possible way to contact this so-called hermit—calls went unanswered, texts ignored, WeChat requests declined, emails unread... They even went to her door, only to be turned away. Director Feng himself went up the mountain to visit, and luckily, it was mealtime, so he stayed for dinner.”
Hearing there was a breakthrough, Shen Nanqiao sat up in the tub, listening attentively.
“In the end, she still turned them down.”
“Liu Haiyan, I don’t believe a single word of this nonsense you’re spouting!” Shen Nanqiao slumped back into the tub, feeling like her entire world was crumbling.
“At first, I thought it was just the crew stalling, too. But then, I saw the photos they brought back from the mountain. I’ll send them to you on WeChat—you can see for yourself.”
Stretching an arm out of the bubble bath, she grabbed the tablet next to her and swiped open the screen. On it appeared a pastoral-style wooden cottage, a yard full of blooming flowers, vines climbing bamboo fences. In the yard, a slender woman in a linen dress was feeding chickens...
Scrolling further: fishing, picking vegetables, doing laundry, climbing trees...
The more Shen Nanqiao looked, the more irritated she became. She swiped the screen back and forth, exclaiming, “What nonsense is this? There really is such a weirdo? Occupying two thousand acres of land all by herself? She’s more extravagant than Shen Shichang, that capitalist vampire! Is there no justice? I’m going to sue her for monopolizing public resources!”
When Liu Haiyan heard Shen Nanqiao call her own father, Shen Shichang, a “capitalist vampire,” her mouth twitched. “Forget it. They already checked. She’s reforesting the area, so it’s a legal operation supported by the government...”
“Haiyan, what’s this hermit’s name?”
“Apparently, it’s—Fan Chen.”
Shen Nanqiao couldn’t believe this. Is there really a deal money can’t buy in this world? This so-called hermit holding out must just be leveraging the writer’s obsession with this location, thinking it’s irreplaceable. What “enlightened recluse”? Just another greedy fraud!
Though she had zero business experience, Shen Nanqiao was confident in her capitalist lineage. Thanks to her father, Shen Shichang, she was sure she could crack this negotiation wide open.
“Alright, give me the address. I’ll personally pay this hermit a visit.”