Chapter 402: A God-like Brother and Sister

Chapter 402: The Divine Siblings

Meng Caiwei’s scenes in the film *The Pawn* wrapped up three days ago. Once her part was done, the entire movie was essentially complete, with any remaining reshoots folded directly into post-production.

After *The Pawn* finished, Meng Caiwei began her break. Aside from following up on post-production work, she had no work scheduled for the first half of the year, and at most a few simple tasks in the second half. She likely wouldn’t take on any new films this year.

First, good scripts were hard to come by. Having just worked on a script like *The Pawn*, it would be tough to find another one that caught her eye this year. Second, the film had drained her—not just mentally but physically. The mental strain was a hidden wound, hard to spot on the surface, while the physical toll was plain to see: the weight she’d gained for the role, which would take time to shed. Third, she’d always kept her workload light—at most one film a year, sometimes two over three years.

Meng Caiwei was a harsh self-critic, yet also one of the freest spirits in the industry. She wasn’t bound by traffic, didn’t bow to producers’ whims, and had no need to please audiences or capital. She only had to focus on her own patch of responsibility as an actress. She had truly become what many actors dreamed of being.

Her status as an “outsider” in the entertainment circle came from several factors.

First, her personality was stubborn and proud. It was hard for her to lower herself to please anyone, especially those she looked down on or couldn’t stand. Over the years in the industry, she’d clashed with, scolded, cursed, and fought with quite a few people. Conversely, plenty of people disliked her—not just peers but ordinary viewers, and she had no shortage of haters. In her early years, she was universally vilified online. Things had improved recently, as her work spoke louder than her temper, and many haters inexplicably turned into fans over time.

Second, her work and acting were rock-solid. The films she’d been in received high praise. Even during the peak of online hate, no one could fault her acting; they could only attack her personality, temper, or so-called character. With her skills, she’d won multiple Best Actress awards, including all three major Chinese-language film awards—the fastest actress to achieve that. She’d been nominated four times at Europe’s three major film festivals and won Best Actress three times at Asia’s three major festivals—twice at the Kyoto International Film Festival and once at the Shanghai International Film Festival.

Third, she was truly lucky. Without that luck, someone who dared to defy everyone and everything in this circle might still survive on sheer talent, but she wouldn’t be thriving as she did now—at the very least, her path would have been far harder. Many actors in the industry were similar to Meng Caiwei, but they weren’t as fortunate. They were either reshaped by the environment, vanished from the public eye, or survived but struggled.

Meng Caiwei’s luck lay in her ability to handle confrontations head-on herself. When it came to underhanded tactics, her family backed her up. After weathering the early years, fewer and fewer people dared to challenge her directly. Capital and insiders stopped stirring the pot, and more attention turned to her acting and work—hence the growing number of haters-turned-fans.

After wrapping up filming, Meng Caiwei first went to the capital to see her eldest sister, Meng Caiju, and also met with Jiang Shangshang, the best friend who had helped with Meng Fan’s special entry into the national team. Interestingly, Meng Caiwei went to thank her, but ended up being thanked instead.

The reason lay with Meng Fan. Her husband’s family had pulled strings to get Meng Fan in through a special process, and now, thanks to Meng Fan’s incredible results in weightlifting, wrestling, and judo, they’d gained a reputation for spotting talent. It wasn’t a big deal, but it was flattering, and hearing it so often lately had put her in a good mood.

She returned to Hangzhou yesterday, stayed home for a night, and went out this morning. She met up with Qin Jiao to get a haircut. Midway, a fashion buyer who’d rushed from Shanghai delivered a limited-edition bag and a set of clothes. Then she said goodbye to Qin Jiao and went home.

It was nearly noon when she got back. Wu Tong had only learned last night, after leaving, that Meng Caiwei was there. Meng Fan suggested they meet, and Wu Tong didn’t hesitate. By now, she’d prepared a full table of dishes.

“I’ve heard from Xiao Fan for ages about your cooking skills. Today, I finally get to try them,” Meng Caiwei said.

She knew about Wu Tong’s relationship with her mother and many things between Meng Fan and Wu Tong. She’d also seen Wu Tong’s photos, videos, and work. Meng Caiwei was a harsh critic, but she found no fault with Wu Tong. Respecting Meng Fan’s choice, and seeing her in person, she gave her approval.

Once she did, she dropped the formality, and a single sentence bridged the gap.

Wu Tong, seeing Meng Caiwei’s attitude, breathed a quiet sigh of relief. After all, this was her future sister-in-law, and she’d heard about her temper. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t nervous. Knowing Meng Caiwei wasn’t one to fake sincerity, she smiled and said, “I heard from godmother that Sister Wei likes small yellow croaker, so I tried making a salt-and-pepper version. Give it a taste.”

Meng Caiwei smiled and nodded, handing over a few bags as a gift. “A bag, a set of clothes—this is my little gift as your sister-in-law. Not as lavish as Mom’s, but don’t turn up your nose.”

“Thank you, Sister Wei.”

Wu Tong accepted gracefully, though the title made her ears burn a little—but she was happy.

Seeing the pleasantries done, Meng Fan called out, “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

Both women rolled their eyes at him, and the atmosphere turned harmonious.

As they ate, Meng Caiwei got a call from her assistant. Her expression shifted to something odd. She pulled out her phone, scrolled through it, and looked torn between laughter and tears. Seeing Meng Fan and Wu Tong’s curiosity, she handed them the phone. It was paparazzi photos of Meng Caiwei staying overnight at Meng Fan’s place.

The gist was this: after dropping his girlfriend Wu Tong off at school, Meng Fan met a sexy woman, hugged and laughed with her, then she stayed over at his place. Only when she left the next day did they catch that it was Meng Caiwei.

Everything was true, laid out bluntly, with photos in chronological order. They didn’t suggest any improper relationship between Meng Fan and Meng Caiwei, nor did they hint at a family connection.

As for what it meant, they left it for netizens to figure out—or to bait the parties into speaking.

In short, the paparazzi team had made a killing off this scoop. The photos were sold to various media outlets, not released themselves.

Once the news broke, the internet exploded. #MengFanMengCaiwei# shot to the top of trending topics.

“Boring. Someone actually staked me out,” Meng Fan said.

After becoming famous, plenty of reporters had tried to corner him in the neighborhood, but the security guards were good, and over time, they’d given up. He hadn’t thought much of it, never expecting a paparazzo to keep tailing him. The spot they’d chosen was so hidden that even with his sharp observation, he hadn’t noticed.

Wu Tong glanced at it and smiled, offering no comment.

Meng Caiwei said to Meng Fan, “I don’t have much work coming up. I need to lose the weight I gained for the role. You can be my trainer, or find me a good one.”

Meng Fan nodded. “Just don’t complain about the pain.”

After the meal, Wu Tong started clearing the dishes to wash them, but Meng Caiwei stopped her and shot Meng Fan a look to do it himself.

“Don’t spoil him. Come on, let’s try on the clothes.”

The big news about Meng Fan and Meng Caiwei online naturally rippled into real life. At the Fengji Martial Arts Gym, it was buzzing—Meng Fan came here every day, so how could it not?

“What’s going on? How did Meng Fan get caught up in a scandal with Meng Caiwei?”

“I saw the photos. It’s solid proof!”

“He just sent Wu Tong off and then welcomed Meng Caiwei? If Wu Ji finds out, he’ll probably fight Meng Fan to the death!”

“Absolutely, even if he can’t win, he has to try!”

“There must be some explanation! Meng Fan’s been so public about his relationship with Wu Tong; he wouldn’t sneak around like this!”

“But the key is, Meng Caiwei is gorgeous! They say she’s gained a lot of weight for her role, but it still can’t hide her charm!”

“Wu Tong is much younger, though!”

“Men are all pigs!”

“Hey, didn’t they say Meng Caiwei is a lesbian?”

“I think I’ve heard that! There were rumors about her and Bai Zhi...”

“Use your brains, will you? They’re both surnamed Meng. People online have dug it up—they’re from the same place in Wenzhou. They’re definitely related!”

“Exactly! I saw the analysis too. The first people in the entertainment circle Meng Fan knew were Bai Zhi and Su Qingcen, and they’re both Meng Caiwei’s friends. That says it all!”

“I believe in Meng Fan, anyway!”

“Wait, if Meng Fan and Meng Caiwei are related—close relatives, even siblings—wouldn’t that be incredible?”

“Incredible? It’s divine!”

“One’s the biggest fighter in the entertainment world, the other’s the strongest in all of Asia! If they’re siblings, reality would break. What kind of divine siblings are these?”

“Oh my god, look closely at their comparison photos. They really do look alike!”

As they chatted, the air suddenly went still. Everyone turned to the door. First, Meng Fan walked in, then Wu Tong, and then Meng Caiwei!

The three of them appearing together in such a public setting made the truth obvious.

And Meng Fan’s next words confirmed their suspicions.

“Sis, Tongtong will show you around. I’m heading to the training room.”

“Mm, go ahead.”

Meng Fan headed to his private training room, while Wu Tong and Meng Caiwei walked toward the women’s locker room, chatting and laughing.

(End of chapter)