Delicate Beauty in the Palm : Chapter 48 - Older Brother Wen Liang
Chapter 48: Older Brother Wen Liang
After Wen Liang finished speaking, Jiang Xian gave a small nod to Chen Die, then followed Wen Liang to sit elsewhere.
There were still quite a few people glancing at Chen Die. If they were only curious before, Wen Liang's little stunt had now made their gazes practically pierce through her.
Ye Chuqing was the same—she tugged Chen Die’s arm to sit down, scooting her chair closer until they were side by side. “Are you guys living together?”
“Huh?” Chen Die blinked. “No.”
“Then what was that ‘I’ll take you home’ line? Sounds totally like you two are living together.” Ye Chuqing narrowed her eyes, suddenly realizing something. “That sly dog! The man’s way too calculated!”
That sentence earlier wasn’t loud, so only she and that guy named Jiang Xian could’ve heard it. It was clearly said just ambiguously enough for him to hear.
Chen Die picked up a piece of meat and shoved it into her mouth to shut her up.
“Oh right,” Ye Chuqing asked again, “what’s up with that guy just now?”
“Just an old friend.”
Ye Chuqing raised an eyebrow, giving her a sideways glance. “Just that?”
Chen Die laughed. “What else?”
“Then why’d you say his name all sweet and soft? I thought he was your ex or something.”
“…How was that sweet and soft?” Chen Die had never been described as ‘cutesy’ in her life.
“‘Older Brother Jiang Xian~(Jiang Xian-gege~)’—you don’t know how guys go weak when pretty girls call them that? If you push it, it’s enough to make a guy—”
“Here, have a strawberry.” Chen Die shoved another bite at her, exasperated. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. That’s just what I always called him.”
“Maybe you meant nothing by it, but what if he did?”
“Hm?” Chen Die blinked. “You mean Wen Liang?”
“No duh. You’re in trouble.” Ye Chuqing wiggled her brows and gave her a teasing wink. “That man doesn’t look like someone easy to mess with.”
Ye Chuqing’s words always carried a hint of something suggestive. Chen Die couldn’t take it anymore and nudged her with her elbow. “Be serious. We’re at a funeral right now.”
It really was kind of ironic.
Wen Huaiyuan had been powerful and well-respected in life, but here at his funeral, there wasn’t even a single person truly mourning him.
The ones who would’ve cried for him—one had already passed away over a decade ago. The other...
Chen Die looked over at Wen Liang.
The man stood among the crowd, dressed in black. He looked no different from usual. She figured some people were probably silently criticizing him for being cold-blooded.
But last night, when he buried his face in her neck and stayed completely still, her skin had turned damp.
His eyes were wet. Chen Die hadn’t said anything at the time, pretending not to notice.
The funeral ended.
Ye Chuqing left with her parents. Her mother, a former movie queen turned director, knew of Chen Die and liked her a lot—she only learned today that her daughter actually knew her personally.
Once Ye Chuqing left, Chen Die didn’t have anyone familiar around. Wen Liang was worried she’d be bored and walked over to her. “Want me to have someone take you back to rest?”
“What about you?”
“I’ve still got things to take care of. I’ll come find you later tonight.” Wen Liang said.
“Alright.” Chen Die didn’t mind. “Don’t overwork yourself.”
Wen Liang gave a small smile and ruffled her hair.
Back at her apartment, Chen Die tossed her laundry into the machine, then caught up on an episode of <Three Meals a Day>. Her and Lin Qingye’s popularity was still high—the comment section was filled with viewers betting on when she’d explode in anger at him.
By the time the episode ended, it was already dark. Too lazy to order delivery, she made a simple, clear veggie broth dish for dinner.
After she finished eating, she checked her phone—no message from Wen Liang.
What a dog of a man.
It’s only been a few days since they got together!
She pouted but didn’t message him either. After washing and putting away the dishes, she somehow fell asleep on the couch.
The room was a bit chilly, and her sleep was restless.
Suddenly, a weight pressed down on her, and warmth spread all around.
Chen Die blinked awake in a daze—right in front of her was Wen Liang’s face.
Tall and long-limbed as he was, he was now curled up on the couch with her like a wronged puppy, clinging to her.
She was a bit squished and found it hard to breathe. She stared at him for a while before her mind caught up, then raised her arms to wrap around his back. “You’re done with everything?”
Wen Liang hummed. “Just let me hold you for a bit.”
He lowered his head and buried it in her neck again, taking a long, deep breath like he was inhaling her scent. His breath, warm and slow, exhaled against her skin.
It tickled her neck, and she instinctively shrank away.
Not only that, but his position was really too much—not only did it make breathing difficult, he was also way too close. Chen Die’s chest was tightly pressed against him, and it was starting to feel uncomfortable.
Feeling unwell, she pushed Wen Liang.
He ignored her, staying in the same position, and even scolded her: “Stop moving.”
“I can’t breathe,” Chen Die said.
Only then did he lift his body slightly, shifted a bit, and then laid back down again.
Finally, it was a little more bearable.
Wen Liang was being unusually well-behaved now, lying on her without moving. Chen Die raised her hand and gently ran her fingers through his hair, saying softly, “Your hair’s getting a bit long.”
“Mhm,” he replied, his voice sounding a bit sleepy.
“It feels nicer to touch like this, not as prickly as before.”
Wen Liang chuckled into her neck and casually replied, “Then I won’t buzz it short anymore. I’ll let it grow out.”
Chen Die thought for a moment. “But you still look more handsome with short hair.”
“I’m handsome no matter what.”
It was the first time Chen Die had heard him say something so shamelessly self-absorbed, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Since when are you this full of yourself?”
Wen Liang pinched her waist a few times like he was enjoying the feel of it, then left his hand there, unmoving. In a slow drawl, he said, “Didn’t you like me for a long time anyway?”
“......”
Chen Die pinched his waist in return, but he wasn’t ticklish and didn’t react at all.
Just as she was about to say something, Wen Liang’s phone rang.
Too lazy to get off her, he fished the phone out of his pocket while still lying on top of her. It was a call from Fu Wanmei.
He glanced at it, answered, put it on speaker, tossed the phone aside—and promptly resumed lying on top of Chen Die, even taking the opportunity to grope her butt.
This shameless jerk.
Fu Wanmei’s furious voice came through the speaker: “Wen Liang! How dare you move your father’s grave to Linqian Cemetery! You unfilial son—your father just died and all you care about is the company. You didn’t even bother hosting the guests and dumped everything on me! And now you want your mother—who’s been dead for 19 years—to steal this advantage too?!”
Chen Die didn’t understand what the ‘Linqian Cemetery’ thing was about, but the latter part of the rant lit a fire in her. She immediately tried to sit up to argue with Fu Wanmei.
This is too harsh!
But just as she moved, Wen Liang pushed her back down—and then her earlobe went warm.
Chen Die froze completely, all her strength gone in an instant.
Wen Liang was biting her ear.
Fu Wanmei was still ranting and raving on the phone, but Chen Die couldn’t hear a word anymore. She was too overwhelmed with discomfort and embarrassment from what Wen Liang was doing.
Then he spoke, almost a whisper, low and tingling, with a hint of warning: “You wanna explain that so-called ‘older brother(gege)’ of yours?”
Chen Die’s ears turned red. She couldn’t raise her voice, so she whispered, “What older brother(gege)?”
Wen Liang lifted his hand. Between two fingers was a thin card. Chen Die glanced over—it was the business card Jiang Xian had given her.
…This bastard must’ve taken it from her pocket without her noticing.
“I told you already,” she whispered. “Just someone I used to know over there. An older friend.”
She didn’t even know why they were talking like this. Wen Liang was still on top of her, acting like she’d done something wrong, while Fu Wanmei’s vulgar accusations continued on speaker, and here she was whispering explanations.
It was way too shameful.
Chen Die frowned and lifted her knee to kick him. “Turn off the phone first!”
Wen Liang gave a little snort of laughter and finally let her go—for now. He stretched out an arm and picked up the phone. “Fu Wanmei.”
Those three words alone seemed to have some kind of magic—Fu Wanmei, who had been ranting nonstop, immediately fell silent.
“I suggest you think carefully about your current situation. You know I have ways to make sure you end up with zero shares left. So before you start throwing insults, maybe consider how you plan to live the rest of your life.”
His voice was ice cold, full of pressure—enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine.
But as he said those sharp, threatening words, he was still toying with Chen Die’s earlobe. The contrast made the entire atmosphere incredibly strange.
He ended the call without waiting for Fu Wanmei to respond and turned his dark, unreadable gaze toward Chen Die, still clearly not over the earlier topic.
He poked her cheek with a finger, punctuating each word: “Still. Calling. Him. Older Brother(gege)?”
“......”
Chen Die grabbed his finger, helpless. “He’s older than me—by a year. Or maybe two? I forgot.”
Wen Liang bit her chin lightly. “You haven’t seen him in years, but you still remember his name.”
His bite actually hurt a little, and Chen Die snapped: “Wen Liang, are you a damn dog?! Get off me, get away!”
He didn’t move, and when she tried to push him off, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. Staring down at her, he let out a soft laugh. “Yelling at me over him?”
“I’m yelling at you because you bit me!” Chen Die was seriously starting to feel like arguing with him was pointless.
Wen Liang pressed down on her wrist with one hand, crumpled the business card into a ball, and tossed it toward the trash can in a perfect arc. It landed inside, officially turning into garbage.
“Are you insane?!” Chen Die glared at him.
“I told you a long time ago—don’t pull any of that ‘older brother-little sister’ crap with me. But you still called him so happily—‘Older Brother Jiang Xian(Jiang Xian gege),’ seriously.”
Wen Liang mimicked her tone, face full of contempt.
It was bad enough that he was so openly jealous, but now he was even holding her down and interrogating her over it.
“That ‘older brother(gege)’ of mine is just a normal big brother, okay? There’s nothing else going on. I’ve called him that since we were kids.”
Wen Liang raised an eyebrow, still clearly displeased. “Funny—I’ve never heard you call me that.”
“I have! I used to call you ‘Brother Wen Liang(Wen Liang-ge)’ remember?” Chen Die said.
“‘Brother Wen Liang(Wen Liang-ge)’ and ‘Older Brother Jiang Xian(Jiang Xian-gege)’—those don’t sound the same, do they?”
“......”
Chen Die suddenly remembered what Ye Chuqing had told her earlier—and finally understood what this was all about.
This damn guy… he was jealous. Just because Jiang Xian got an extra ‘ge’ in her tone.
When Ye Chuqing told her that guys couldn’t resist a girl calling them ‘(older brother)gege,’ Chen Die hadn’t really believed it. She just figured some guys were like that. Someone like Wen Liang—so different from ordinary men—shouldn’t fall for that kind of thing.
He might even think it was cringey or gross.
But now…
Chen Die looked at Wen Liang helplessly.
Sigh… he’s just as basic as the rest of them.
“What? You want me to call you Older Brother Wen Liang(Wen Liang-gege) now?” she said.
Wen Liang didn’t even bother hiding his twisted sense of humor: “You can drop the name too, just call me ‘Older Brother(gege).’”
“......”
So tacky. Too tacky!
Chen Die rolled her eyes, pushed him off, and finally sat up from the couch. Her neck was sore from being pinned like that.
She didn’t want to keep going with that ridiculous topic. “Are you staying over again tonight?”
“Mhm.”
She got up and walked to the bedroom. Wen Liang poured himself a glass of water and was about to follow her in, but just as he got to the door, Chen Die came back out—carrying a quilt. She shoved it into his arms.
Chen Die: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Wen Liang raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”
“What do you mean ‘hm’? Who said just because we made up you get to sleep with me again? Normal couples take time before they start sleeping together. The other day was an exception—I let you on the bed because you looked pitiful.”
Wen Liang couldn’t be bothered with her nonsense. In his world, there was no such thing as going through all the effort of winning her back only to sleep separately.
“What’s with you now?”
“Nothing! This is called relationship pacing, okay?” Chen Die pulled the bedroom door half-closed.
Wen Liang stepped forward and pressed his hand on the door too.
But Chen Die wasn’t strong enough to hold her ground against him. He was still holding that quilt, and even with just one arm against the door, she couldn’t push him back.
Normally, she wasn’t exactly weak, either.
They stood like that, facing off, neither willing to give in.
Finally, Chen Die made a bold move—she suddenly leaned in close to Wen Liang.
The movement was so quick and unexpected that Wen Liang found her face right in front of his. Her pretty fox-like eyes stared directly at him, the corners slightly upturned, a strangely seductive look in them. Her long lashes fluttered twice, thick and curled.
A lot of fans and netizens had said Chen Die’s beauty had a certain ‘aggressive’ edge to it.
Wen Liang felt that statement was all too accurate as his Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes remained locked on her, unable to look away.
Then Chen Die leaned in by his ear and parted her red lips: “Older Brother Wen Liang(Wen Liang gege).”
Her voice was soft, sweet, almost like a spell. It slipped into his ear like a feather, brushing against his nerves and short-circuiting them in an instant.
Wen Liang was stunned—perfect timing. While he was dazed, Chen Die gave him a shove, shut the bedroom door, and locked it.
Wen Liang stood outside the door, motionless for a long moment. He absolutely hadn’t expected the sheer power of that one sentence—“Older Brother Wen Liang(Wen Liang-gege).” It made his whole body go weak, and all his blood rush downward.
Completely fired up by her, and yet she got away scot-free, leaving him there like a fool standing at her door.
Sure, there would be more chances in the future—but after months of celibacy, that one “older brother(gege)” had pushed him right to the edge.
Images from the past started flooding his mind.
Standing outside her bedroom, Wen Liang finally cursed under his breath.
Chen Die didn’t realize until the next day why Fu Wanmei had called and yelled the way she had the night before.
The next morning was the official burial day for Wen Huaiyuan. Wen Liang brought Chen Die with him to Linqian Cemetery, but she stayed in the car and didn’t get out.
Linqian Cemetery was an old burial ground.
After Shen Yunshu passed away, she was also buried here. Wen Liang had now arranged for their graves to be combined—laid to rest together.
No wonder Fu Wanmei was so furious last night.
By law, she was Wen Huaiyuan’s legal wife at the time of his death, but he ended up being buried with Shen Yunshu instead, leaving her alone.
If this were ancient times, it would mean she was just a concubine.
Wen Liang had done this clearly to disgust Fu Wanmei. Outsiders might even speculate that it was Wen Huaiyuan’s final wish in his will, and who knows what they would say about Fu Wanmei.
The ceremony soon ended. After a few of the Wen family's close relatives said their goodbyes to Wen Liang and Fu Wanmei, they left. A little while later, Fu Wanmei also departed. She’d already endured more than enough by staying this long. She didn’t want to continue torturing herself by being in that place, and now that everyone was gone, she no longer bothered keeping up appearances—grabbing Wen Qian, she turned and left without another word.
The cemetery fell silent. Only Wen Liang remained.
Chen Die finally got out of the car, walking step by step up the rows of stairs.
Wen Liang stood in front of the tombstone. It had been replaced with a new one, engraved with a couplet for a husband-and-wife burial, along with photos of Wen Huaiyuan and Shen Yunshu.
In Shen Yunshu’s photo, she looked to be in her early thirties—still a beautiful woman. Wen Huaiyuan, on the other hand, looked close to sixty.
To an outsider, just one glance would tell them this was the story of a man whose first wife had died young. Some might even sigh and comment on the man’s loyalty—so many years had passed, and yet he still chose to be buried with his long-gone wife.
Once a person dies, how they’re judged by the public depends entirely on appearances.
Chen Die stood behind Wen Liang, gazing for a moment at Shen Yunshu’s photo on the tombstone. Then she said, “You look more like your mother.”
Wen Liang turned his head lazily and smiled at her.
Chen Die stepped forward and took his hand.
His hand was a little cold. The moment she held it, he seemed to freeze for a second, then returned the grip tightly.
Wen Liang lowered his gaze to Shen Yunshu’s photo, his expression calm, his voice steady: “You loved him for so long. Now he’s here to keep you company.”
Suddenly, Chen Die understood why Wen Liang had arranged for the two to be buried together.
“Auntie,” she said softly, “don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Wen Liang.”
She wasn’t some delicate princess in need of a knight in shining armor. She’d inherited everything from him, and could wield a sword herself.
Wen Liang raised his hand and pulled her into his arms. After a moment, he said, “Let’s go.”
Wen Liang had a new problem on his mind lately.
After finally winning Chen Die back, now he was trying to get her to agree to move back home. He’d brought it up several times, but it never worked—she was still living in her own apartment.
Then she got busy filming again.
That weekend, after wrapping up a new episode of <Three Meals a Day>, Chen Die returned to Yan City.
Wen Liang had originally said he’d pick her up, but halfway through, Ye Chuqing beat him to it, saying she had something to talk to Chen Die about. In her words, stealing Wen Liang’s girlfriend now was sweet revenge for the way he’d humiliated her in the past.
So Chen Die didn’t let Wen Liang come—besides, there were quite a few fans waiting at the airport, and it wouldn’t be good to keep showing up together like that.
After waving goodbye to the fans who’d come to meet her, Chen Die exited the airport and immediately spotted Ye Chuqing’s car.
“What do you want to eat?” Ye Chuqing asked, slipping on her sunglasses and humming a tune, clearly in a great mood.
“Nothing too greasy,” Chen Die replied. They were familiar enough now that she was comfortable lounging in the seat. “Yesterday’s filming had me eating way too much oily food—felt awful.”
“You only feel that way because you’re so strict with your diet. Your body can’t handle anything even a little heavy. Let’s go get Japanese then. There’s a new place on International Avenue that’s supposed to be really good.”
“Sure.” Chen Die had never been picky about food.
They went to the Japanese restaurant and ordered a two-person set meal, plus an extra plate of sashimi.
“Oh, right—my mom’s about to start filming a new drama, and she really wants you for the lead female role. She mentioned you just yesterday.” Ye Chuqing’s mother, once movie queen, had since transitioned to being a director.
Chen Die remembered analyzing one of her iconic performances in university classes when they studied her Best Actress win.
“Sounds good. Once <Three Meals a Day> wraps, my schedule is pretty open. What kind of drama is it?”
“I’m not totally sure. I think once they start casting officially, my mom will contact you,” Ye Chuqing replied, dipping a slice of sashimi. Then she suddenly remembered something else: “Have you heard about Chen Shuyuan lately?”
“Nope,” Chen Die said, glancing up. “Why would I be keeping tabs on her?”
Ye Chuqing raised her chin and winked: “One of my industry friends is running a microfilm director competition. She entered.”
“Oh.” Chen Die wasn’t surprised. “She majored in directing, so it makes sense she’d enter a competition like that.”
“I mean, if you don’t want her participating, I could make sure her project doesn’t even pass the preliminary round.”
Chen Die paused, then laughed: “What, you’re gonna abuse your power now?”
Ye Chuqing shrugged like it was nothing: “It’s a commercial contest anyway, and I’m involved. I was talking to Chen Shao about contracts the other day—same project. He even invested in the competition. We’re all on the inside. Skipping someone in prelims takes zero effort.”
Chen Die teased her: “Since when do you call Chen Shao one of your own?”
“…Just tell me if you want her out or not.”
“No need,” Chen Die said, resting her chin in her hand. “I’d actually like to see what kind of splash she can make.”
After all, over the past twenty-something years, Chen Shuyuan had lost to her far too many times.
It seemed like she was living a glamorous and successful life, but in reality, she was walking on thin ice. Meanwhile, Chen Die had it easy—she’d always had countless admirers, better grades, and thanks to Wen Liang, she lived comfortably without worrying about food or clothing.
Even her allowance was capped every month, but Chen Die? Wen Liang had directly given her a black card—at a time when Chen Die didn’t even know what a black card was.
Chen Die had never truly seen her as a competitor—not even now, with this microfilm competition.
That said, this time, Chen Shuyuan had performed quite well.
Her short film was titled <Plum Wine>, with a very distinctive style. Since it hadn’t been disqualified during the initial review, it had made it all the way to the finals.
The final winner would be chosen by online votes. The champion would receive funding from the sponsor, Yiming Entertainment, to turn their film into a full-length movie. The runner-up and third place would each receive a 500,000 yuan prize.
<Plum Wine> had been marketed exceptionally well—likely a collaboration between Chen Shuyuan and a PR company. But in this industry, marketing was standard procedure.
On the very first day of voting, the film trended with hashtags full of praise.
<Plum Wine> quickly racked up the most views and likes, pulling far ahead of the second-place contender.
Ye Chuqing sent the streaming link for <Plum Wine> to Chen Die.
Chen Die clicked it and watched the 20-minute short. It was indeed well-made. Even though she didn’t like Chen Shuyuan, she had to admit that the work was impressive—it gave her a new level of respect for her.
But something about it felt… off. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it and didn’t overthink it.
Because just then, she got a message from Wen Liang, prompting her to exit the chat with Ye Chuqing.
[Wen Liang: When does the shoot end?]
A few days earlier, her agent Fang Ruan had booked her a cosmetics endorsement ad. Chen Die was now sitting in front of the set.
[Chen Die: Still a while to go. My agent will come pick me up.]
Right after sending that, Ye Chuqing messaged her again—this time with a screenshot. Judging by the format, it looked like an internal report from the competition.
Anonymous Report: Contestant #0819’s film <Plum Wine> bears a high degree of similarity to the script <Autumn Waters Embrace the Moon> written by Director Feng Zhi in 2001. Below is a detailed comparison. The evidence is clear, and we urge the organizing committee to issue a public statement as soon as possible.
In an instant, Chen Dieunderstood why she had felt something strange when watching <Plum Wine>.
Back in 2001, Director Feng Zhi had not yet risen to fame. That script, <Autumn Waters Embrace the Moon>, was something he personally wrote during his obscurity.
However, since it was an art film, it didn’t fit the commercially dominant film scene at the time and couldn’t secure funding—so the project was eventually shelved and forgotten.
As a result, few people even knew about <Autumn Waters Embrace the Moon>, and Feng Zhi had never publicly mentioned it.
But Chen Die knew it—because during her freshman year, she had read the script.
Now, seeing the comparison in the report, the details of <Autumn Waters Embrace the Moon> came flooding back to her.
Chen Shuyuan’s plagiarism wasn’t entirely brainless—she had fused several scenes together to avoid being obvious. But because the filming techniques were clearly modeled after Feng Zhi’s style—and Chen Die was deeply familiar with his work—that unsettling feeling had stuck with her.
[Ye Chuqing: We checked the report source on the backend. It was submitted by the contestant currently in second place. They definitely won’t let this go.]
After all, first prize meant potential investment in the millions for a big-budget movie. Second prize was just 500,000 yuan.
Anyone with ambition wouldn’t easily give up on first place.
Sure enough, an hour later—
While the organizers were still “investigating,” no public statement had been released yet. But hashtags like #PlumWinePlagiarism and #MicrofilmCompetitionFirstPlace had already shot to the top of the trending topics.
[??????]
[Plagiarizing a famous director’s script? Are you trying to get canceled faster?]
[@FengZhi @FengZhi @FengZhi @FengZhi @FengZhi]
[Plagiarized?! I want my tears back!]
Chen Die scrolled through the posts, then messaged Ye Chuqing again:
[Chen Die: So what’s your organizing team going to do about it?]
[Ye Chuqing: As the sister of the organizer, what do you think we should do?]
Chen Die: “……”
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