"Bai Nianchen…"
Bai Chenxi's fingers brushed lightly over the three characters written neatly inside the household registration booklet. Her lips moved, repeating the name under her breath, almost reverently.
Nianchen.
The sound stirred something strange and tender deep inside her heart, as though this name carried a hidden meaning she could not yet grasp.
In her arms, the little boy seemed to perk up at the sound of his name. He lifted his small head, blinking those wide, glassy eyes, and answered timidly in a soft voice:"Mm?"
Chenxi's heart melted instantly into a pool of warmth.
She carried him to the edge of the bed and sat down, placing him carefully on her lap. She studied him intently.
The boy was beautiful—delicate brows, pale skin, and a faint trace of her own features stamped across his face. Yet there was something else, another outline of familiarity in his bone structure… one she couldn't quite place.
"You're called Bai Nianchen?" she asked gently.
The child nodded, then added in his childish lilt, "Nian Nian… Mommy calls me Nian Nian."
Chenxi's lips curved into the softest smile. She followed his lead. "Alright then, Nian Nian. Tell Mommy, how old are you?"
The boy tilted his little head, thinking hard. Finally, he stuck out three chubby fingers and declared proudly, "Nian Nian is three!"
Three years old…
Chenxi's mind raced. She had been reborn five years into the past. If the child was three, then he would have been born around the time her career had plummeted and the company had pushed her aside.
Those days were a haze of depression and isolation. She had buried herself away, avoiding the spotlight, refusing contact with the outside world. Now, in hindsight, it all made sense.
Pregnancy. Birth.
But with who? Who was the man who had left his shadow on her life—and why had her memories around that period been so deliberately blurred?
Was it an accident? Or another carefully laid trap?
"Mommy…"
The child's small hand tugged gently at her sleeve, pulling her out of her thoughts. His round belly grumbled as he whispered plaintively, "Hungry."
Those innocent eyes—pure, trusting, utterly reliant on her—shattered the darkness gathering in her chest.
Whatever the past had been, this little boy was her present and her future. He was the one thing she must guard with her life in this second chance.
"Alright," she said firmly, lifting him into her arms. "Mommy will make you something to eat."
The apartment's tiny kitchen offered little comfort. She opened the refrigerator and found only scraps—an egg carton, a bundle of noodles, a half-wilted vegetable or two.
She pulled out what she could and set to work, deciding on something simple: egg noodles.
Throughout the process, Nian Nian trailed her like a small, faithful shadow, wide eyes glued to her every movement. He clutched the hem of her clothes as though terrified she might disappear if he let go for even a second.
That silent dependence made Chenxi's throat ache. Yet, it also steeled her resolve.
She must pull herself together. She must rise again. For this child—for Nian Nian—she needed to earn money, take back her career, and change their fate.
Soon, a steaming bowl of noodles sat on the table.
Chenxi carefully blew on each spoonful, cooling it before feeding it to him. The boy ate with relish, cheeks puffed out adorably as he chewed. His eyes narrowed into crescents, glowing with satisfaction. Every few bites, he chirped in his tender voice:
"Mommy's noodles… yummy!"
Chenxi gazed at his innocent smile, and for the first time in years, a sense of peace and purpose filled her chest.
In her previous life, she had chased illusions—fame, fortune, love—only to end up shattered. But perhaps, in this life, this child was her true redemption.
When Nian Nian was finally full, she set him down with a set of toy blocks to occupy him. Then she reached for the battered old phone.
Her thumb hesitated for a long moment over the keypad, before finally pressing a number she had almost erased from her memory—her former manager, Hong Jie.
The phone rang several times before a brisk, weary voice answered:"Hello? Who is this?"
Chenxi swallowed, then spoke steadily. "Hong Jie, it's me. Bai Chenxi."
There was silence on the other end. Then a laugh, bitter and sharp."Well, well. Bai Chenxi. I never thought you'd still remember my number. What's the matter? Didn't your 'dear best friend,' the great Agent Zhao, already pave your golden road to success?"
The sarcasm cut like glass.
Chenxi gripped the phone tightly, her voice low but firm. "Hong Jie, I was blind. I trusted the wrong people. I don't want the shortcuts anymore—I just want to act. Any role, any script. As long as I can work… will you take me back?"
Another long silence followed. Then a sigh drifted down the line."I don't manage artists anymore. That part of my life is done… But I do have a friend at a small production house. They're casting for a minor supporting role in a low-budget web drama. The part isn't big, but the character has some bite to it. The audition is tomorrow afternoon. Do you dare show up?"