Chapter 28
【No need. Thanks.】 Jiang Zhaolie coldly rejected Xu Chun’s clearly ill-intentioned suggestion, then added with a frown: 【From now on, keep your excessive attention away from my mom.】
Something felt off—as if Xu Chun genuinely had designs on her mother.
Jiang Zhaolie was still pondering Xu Chun’s motives when her phone buzzed again, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced down instinctively and saw the other party had replied with infuriating arrogance: 【Then call the police.】
Jiang Zhaolie’s breath caught. When Qin Yao looked her way, she quickly drew a deep breath of fresh air to keep from being angered to death on the spot by Xu Chun. She ground her teeth hard. She knew it! Xu Chun was definitely up to no good!
Qin Yao’s cool gaze swept over Jiang Zhaolie before she brought up the decision she’d reached after discussing it with Xu Chun’s grandfather. “Once Xu Chun finishes filming over there, you and I will go have a meal with them.”
Jiang Zhaolie looked up blankly. “Why?” What was the point of a meal out of nowhere? They weren’t close with Xu Chun’s grandfather and rarely interacted. In Jiang Zhaolie’s memory, they’d only met once, back when the broken engagement was being discussed.
“Breaking off the engagement.” Qin Yao’s tone was calm, betraying no ripple, yet Jiang Zhaolie’s heart gave an involuntary, violent lurch. Breaking off the engagement?
“Really?” she asked Qin Yao with barely concealed eagerness. After receiving Qin Yao’s emotionless stare, Jiang Zhaolie’s heart leapt into her throat and she immediately regained her composure. “Does that mean after that meal, Xu Chun and I will have nothing to do with each other anymore?”
Qin Yao’s voice remained cool. “Mm.”
Jiang Zhaolie rejoiced inwardly, struggling to suppress the corners of her mouth that threatened to curl upward. Even the complicated, despondent feelings brought on by Yu Sui’an’s hot-and-cold attitude vanished entirely. She was desperate to share this good news with Yu Sui’an, so she immediately made an excuse to leave, planning to call Yu Sui’an and use the chance to clear the air and close the distance between them.
Qin Yao watched her jubilant figure expressionlessly, her stunningly beautiful face unreadable.
Jiang Zhaolie strode back to her office, carefully locked the door, and with a surge of excitement dialed Yu Sui’an’s number. The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up, and Yu Sui’an’s cool-as-ever voice came through the receiver. “What is it, Zhaolie?”
It was as if she’d been struck over the head, or doused with a bucket of cold water. All of Jiang Zhaolie’s excitement and longing evaporated in an instant. The emotional whiplash hit her full force, leaving her dazed for several seconds.
Silence hung on the line. Yu Sui’an pulled the phone away to check, confirmed the call was still connected, and frowned almost imperceptibly. With little patience, she called the other’s name again. “Zhaolie?”
Jiang Zhaolie was drawn back by that call. The euphoria faded, and she was forced back to calm; her voice eventually flattened to match Yu Sui’an’s indifference. “After filming wraps, I’m going to completely end my engagement with Xu Chun.” She paused. “After that, she and I will have nothing to do with each other anymore.”
She pressed her lips together, thought for a moment, and still couldn’t resist lowering her voice to add, “Suisui, once that happens, we can be together openly and legitimately.”
Yu Sui’an’s eyes lit up at that. Her attention was entirely fixed on “Xu Chun is about to completely cut ties with Jiang Zhaolie,” and she didn’t notice the latter half of Jiang Zhaolie’s sentence at all. “When are you planning to settle it?”
“After filming wraps.” Jiang Zhaolie didn’t notice Yu Sui’an’s strangeness either, assuming that upon hearing this news, Yu Sui’an’s lingering resentment toward her had finally faded somewhat. Her tone lightened. “Once filming is done, I’ll take care of it right away.”
Yu Sui’an let out an involuntary breath of relief. “Good.”
Jiang Zhaolie held her phone. Just a “good”? Normally decisive and bold in everything she did, she now found herself at a loss. Did that mean Yu Sui’an had forgiven her?
She wavered internally, and finally just asked outright. “Suisui, are you still angry with me?”
She’d wanted to have a proper talk, but Yu Sui’an’s tone turned cold again. “No.” The voice on the phone paused, then said, “Zhaolie, don’t overthink things. I’m already exhausted from filming every day as it is...”
“Then go be busy.” Jiang Zhaolie cut her off.
A deathly silence suddenly fell on both ends of the line. Jiang Zhaolie’s voice was very low. “Go be busy. I have a meeting to get to as well; I’ll contact you when I’m free.” Without giving Yu Sui’an time to react, she ended the call herself.
Yu Sui’an held her phone for a long while before coming back to herself. She frowned instinctively. This was the first time Jiang Zhaolie had cut her off and hung up on her. A vague displeasure rose in her heart, along with an indescribable discomfort. She lowered her head and stared quietly at the darkened screen for a long time, then finally unlocked it, opened WeChat, and took the initiative to explain herself: “Zhaolie, sorry. I’ve really just been too busy lately.”
Jiang Zhaolie didn’t reply for a long time. She couldn’t tell whether it was a deliberate silence or simply that Jiang Zhaolie was busy and hadn’t seen the message.
Yu Sui’an bit her lower lip lightly, emotions churning violently in her eyes. She felt a flicker of annoyance. Now even Jiang Zhaolie was throwing tantrums and sulking at her?
Lately, things had not been going well for Yu Sui’an. After the last time she’d been blacklisted online, her manager had seemed to lose their mind entirely, stirring up trouble everywhere and offending no small number of people. Now several of Yu Sui’an’s endorsements had been torn away by rivals, and the female lead role that had already been decided as hers had been snatched by someone else.
That incident had been like a signal. Those who had previously eyed her with ill intent but feared her manager’s family influence—no matter how much they itched to act—hadn’t dared to move against her rashly. But ever since the scandal, it seemed everyone could walk all over her, everyone could recklessly snatch her things and carve up her resources at will.
At first Yu Sui’an hadn’t taken those people seriously, but they seemed to have backers even more powerful than her manager, backing them from the shadows—fierce and ruthless toward her, not even sparing a thought for her manager. By now, the resources in her hands had been all but carved up clean, leaving only a pitiful handful.
If the director of her next drama weren’t her manager’s own uncle, she likely wouldn’t even have been able to hold onto her last female lead role.
It had been a long time since Yu Sui’an had experienced such powerlessness, such a situation of being bullied and left at others’ mercy. All of it left her vexed and restless. Add an impulsive, thoroughly unreliable manager to the mix, and now, on top of filming, she had to carve out time to maneuver among those big shots, fighting for resources herself—lest, after *Secret Crush* wrapped, the fig leaf be torn away and all her wretchedness laid bare for everyone to see.
The more she dwelled on it, the more agitated she became. Yu Sui’an had wondered whether someone was deliberately working against her from behind the scenes, but recently she’d offended plenty of people by relying on her manager’s backing. So even though she’d privately compiled a list, she still didn’t know who was actually scheming against her.
Or perhaps... everyone on that list had contributed their own share.
Beyond vexed, she couldn’t resist opening the group chat to check the latest plan her team had drafted. When she discovered that a core staff member—someone who had helped her resolve no small number of troubles—had suddenly handed in their resignation, she could no longer contain the pent-up fury of recent days and violently smashed everything around her.
Even someone who had worked alongside her for so long was going to betray her and leave?
Xu Chun was startled by the sound of smashing beside her. She craned her neck to look, then couldn’t help muttering, “Why’s the female lead suddenly losing her mind?”
The assistant hadn’t caught the first two words, but the latter half came through clearly. At that, the assistant perked right up and explained, “She’s been having a rough time lately. Endorsements torn away, scripts snatched, her manager too busy going crazy to look after her. Right now she’s just a little cabbage nobody loves or pities.”
Then, not forgetting to thoroughly disparage the other, the assistant added, “I say she’s just done too many bad things and karma’s caught up with her.”
After a couple of glances at Xu Chun, the assistant was about to say “Sister Xu, you’d better keep your distance from her,” but then remembered that Xu Chun had been avoiding Yu Sui’an like the plague lately, as if terrified of being associated with her at all. The assistant fell silent, then their eyes suddenly lit up. “Sister Xu, did you predict all along that she’d end up like this?!”
Xu Chun instantly wore the same question-mark expression as Hong Shixian: “?”
“It’s fine, Sister Xu, you don’t need to explain to me.” The assistant spoke with great understanding, then let their imagination fill in the rest. Maybe this whole thing was the work of Sister Xu’s mysterious backer who’d never shown their face. The backer had learned that Sister Xu had suffered so much at Yu Sui’an’s hands before, grown angrier the more they thought about it, and so used all their connections, determined to tear away Yu Sui’an’s facade, leaving her unable to live or die, until everyone despised her, giving Xu Chun a thorough outlet for her grievances.
The assistant couldn’t help staring at Xu Chun excitedly. *So you went and found yourself a backer in secret without telling us—if I weren’t so clever and perceptive, I really might have missed it.*
Xu Chun reflexively stepped back at the eerie light radiating from the assistant’s eyes. “What are you thinking about? Get to work.”
Today’s scene was a major twist. After the melodramatic reveal that the lovers were actually siblings, the gentle third female lead stepped forward and finally exposed the whole farcical misunderstanding. Except the truth didn’t hold for long before the second male lead’s long-cherished, hard-won intended love transformed before his eyes into his own sister-in-law.
Devastated, the second male lead, after a spell of dazed debauchery and drunken revelry, suddenly swore to seize back everything that belonged to him—including the family fortune, including his woman.
The plot that followed included not only forceful, fiery scenes but all manner of bizarre family melodrama, making Jiang Banxia’s brow and temples twitch.
After just a few years apart, what on earth had gotten into Xu Chun’s head?
She knew Xu Chun spent every day huddled with the screenwriter and the original author rewriting the plot. At first she hadn’t paid it much mind, but things had reached this point, and even she—someone just passing through the set—couldn’t help but feel a sliver of worry. Would this drama get banned? Or, once it aired, would her own reputation be tainted by proximity—guilt by association?
After flipping through her own script, Jiang Banxia couldn’t hold back any longer and sought out Xu Chun, trying to persuade her not to write the plot so... she mentally searched for the right word, and could only settle on “ridiculous.”
Upon learning the purpose of the visit, Xu Chun was unconcerned and waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, no big deal.” Jiang Banxia wanted to argue, but heard her say, “Our production team actively upholds core socialist values, so rest assured—anyone in our drama with skewed morals will get their comeuppance.”
“For example, me. In the finale, I’ll be thrown in prison and sentenced to ten years.”
Jiang Banxia: “???”
Even more fucking ridiculous.
Jiang Banxia looked at Xu Chun several times in quick succession, then smiled without warning. “Compared to before, you’re more interesting now.” And harder to figure out.
Xu Chun’s little heart trembled, though she put on a thoroughly modest face. “Not at all, you flatter me, you flatter me.”
After Jiang Banxia mentioned a few thoughts about her own character and left, Xu Chun pulled out her little notebook and jotted down Jiang Banxia’s ideas, planning to discuss revisions with the screenwriter after filming. The original author, upon seeing the message, couldn’t help saying: 【Sister Xu Chun, I have several more works—how about you film them one after another? I think you’re quite suited for it.】
Xu Chun: 【I’ll politely decline. After this drama wraps, I’m going on a variety show first.】
The original author was disappointed but replied: 【No problem, I can wait for you. My other works are still under negotiation anyway; it’ll be a while before the rights are formally sold. By the time you finish the variety show, the timing will be just right.】
So Xu Chun went to check out her other works, and upon seeing the string of titles that would get censored on Jinjiang, “...” Actually, there was really no need to wait for her so devotedly.
Lately Xu Chun’s traffic had been consistently high. No sooner had she finished signing the contract than Director Guo couldn’t wait to spread the news, then quietly hid in the background to watch everyone’s reactions.
Xu Chun’s fans were overjoyed. Their idol’s packed schedule proved that rumors about “Xu Chun is about to be shelved” were false. The truth did not merely contradict the rumors; it was their exact opposite. Some were thrilled; others had their hopes dashed. Yu Sui’an’s fans belonged to the latter group.
Lately they’d been busy running everywhere to clear Yu Sui’an’s name. They had to boost her rankings, crunch data, and personally step into the fray to refute rumors for her. Their schedules were so scrambled that they hardly knew what year it was. Many fans had joined only after Yu Sui’an signed with her new company and rose to fame; when had they ever suffered like this? So some immediately and quietly dropped their fan status and became passersby.
But a considerable portion of fans only grew more devoted the more their idol suffered, their feelings for Yu Sui’an stronger than ever, swearing to protect her, accompany her comeback, and return her to the peak.
The group chat was always lively. While discussing how to help their idol out of her current predicament, Xu Chun, as the ex, was frequently dragged out and bashed.
Xu Wei lurked in the group, not daring to breathe a word about her relationship with Xu Chun, lest she be set upon by the sisters en masse. So every time Xu Chun came up in conversation, she went silent and muted herself, either pretending she wasn’t there or pretending she was busy. In any case, she never participated in related topics.
Although she did harbor some dissatisfaction toward Xu Chun, she hadn’t yet reached the point of hating her enough to curse her out alongside so many outsiders.
But though she didn’t want to get involved, someone took the initiative to @ her: 【Weiwei, isn’t your family quite wealthy? Can’t you think of something—pull some strings or something—to teach Xu Chun a lesson? I get so angry seeing that smug look of hers. Why does she get to live so carefree while our Suisui has to bear all of this and suffer so much?】
【What did Suisui ever do wrong?】
【Exactly, exactly. Weiwei, hurry up and think of something. Suisui only broke up with her because she couldn’t stand Xu Chun’s cheating, yet Xu Chun is relentlessly retaliating against her, dealing such a massive blow to Suisui’s career. I’ve never seen such a petty, vicious, snake-hearted woman.】
【Suisui’s just too naive, that’s why she got fooled so thoroughly by that big bad wolf. Even after the breakup she still can’t forget Xu Chun, and in the end she gets harassed and retaliated against by Xu Chun.】
【Seconded. Right now the only person who has a conflict with Suisui is Xu Chun. Suisui being reduced to this state is all Xu Chun’s fault. And maybe Xu Chun deliberately wants to make Suisui’s life miserable—if Suisui has nowhere left to turn, she’ll have no choice but to go back and beg Xu Chun for help, and then Xu Chun can seize the chance to propose getting back together.】
The discussion was heated, pot after pot of blame flung onto Xu Chun with not a shred of evidence.
Xu Wei frowned instinctively. Though she didn’t like Xu Chun either, she knew better than anyone what kind of person Xu Chun had been since childhood. She was good-natured, upright in her conduct, and the last person who would do something so aggressive and kick someone when they were down.
Xu Wei found it a little hard to accept these trumped-up charges from the fish fans.
Her fingers moved slightly, and Xu Wei typed cautiously: 【I do have connections, it’s just that there’s no evidence proving Xu Chun did these things. I...】
She deliberately left the message unfinished before sending it, expecting the fish fans to respond rationally. Instead, they all replied self-righteously: 【Then we’ll leave this to you, Weiwei. You must give her a proper lesson and let her know Suisui isn’t someone to be messed with!】
Xu Wei’s fingers slowly stopped moving over the keyboard, and that unpleasant feeling rose in her heart once more. They told her to do it, so she just had to do it? Wouldn’t that make her utterly spineless?
More importantly, if she dared use connections to go after Xu Chun, her parents would definitely hear about it immediately and come rushing back overnight just to give her a good old-fashioned mixed doubles beating.
And she’d been tricked out of money by Xu Chun time and again; she’d already developed psychological scars from it. She could guarantee that if Xu Chun found out she’d secretly teamed up with Yu Sui’an’s fans against her, she’d demand an exorbitant sum—at least five million—in emotional damages.
Her brow furrowed tightly. Xu Wei exited the group chat page, no longer willing to wade into these muddy waters.
She’d have to be sick in the head to provoke that money-grubbing lunatic of an older sister.
Xu Wei pursed her lips. She’d spent the last two months busy making money to pay off debts and already had little interest in chasing celebrities. What was the point of spending her free time following Yu Sui’an? Wouldn’t it be nicer to earn some money and buy back the sports car and luxury goods she’d sold?
As a proper daughter of the Xu family, going out without even a sports car would be far too embarrassing.
After thinking it over, Xu Wei quietly left Yu Sui’an’s fan group chat.
...
Xu Chun saw He Qingli for the first time in a while.
At the moment she laid eyes on her, Xu Chun blanked for two seconds, then quickly set down the script in her hands and stood up. “You finished your concert?”
“More or less.” He Qingli nodded, handed the snacks and gifts to the assistant beside Xu Chun, and plopped down into the chair next to Xu Chun, limbs splayed out like a puddle of mud. Xu Chun arched an eyebrow and sat back down in her own seat. “Weren’t you off falling in love? Why do you still look so grim?”
“Don’t even mention it.” He Qingli sighed again and again. “I can’t get in touch with her lately.”
“I went to her house to find her and found nobody there. Her next-door neighbor told me that several different agents had been bringing different people to look at her house for months, and then last week, right when she went missing, the house sold successfully.” He Qingli abruptly sat up straight, both hands clenched into fists. “What the hell does she mean by that?”
“Pulling up her pants and refusing to take responsibility, is that it?”
Xu Chun was immediately intrigued. “You two already slept together that fast?!”
“How could we?!” He Qingli ground her teeth. “I wish we could strip down and fight it out in bed, but!” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes before saying, “Since we met on that show until now, forget kissing—we’ve barely even held hands.”
Xu Chun looked thoroughly shocked. “Have you two made it official?” Seeing He Qingli look at her, she explained, “I mean, has either of you actually confessed, or actively pursued the other to be your girlfriend?”
He Qingli: “......”
“No.”
Xu Chun was instantly all question marks. “?”
“Don’t tell me you two have been in an ambiguous limbo for half a year.”
He Qingli’s face flushed bright red and she said nothing. Xu Chun couldn’t help raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. He Qingli glanced at her. “So have you fallen in love?”
...Not really.
He Qingli immediately pulled a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. “Qin Yao, Jiang Zhaolie, Jiang Banxia, and Yu Sui’an—four single women around you right now. Which one have you made progress with?”
...None of them.
Xu Chun felt she’d been wounded. She argued her case passionately, then emerged covered in bruises. After the two of them poked at each other’s sore spots for ages, He Qingli’s brows locked tight. “What do you think she’s trying to do? I call, she won’t pick up. I message, she won’t reply. Does she plan to hide from me for the rest of her life?”
“Have you had anyone investigate what actually happened with her family?”
He Qingli fell silent for a moment. “I did. All I know now is that her whole family moved abroad. As for where abroad... I’m not too sure. The person I hired doesn’t have that wide a network overseas.”
“Then let me ask around for you.” Xu Chun thought Qin Yao might have the capability, so she volunteered to take on the task. He Qingli’s eyes lit up. “Really?!”
“Babe, if you can help me hunt her down, I’ll gift you ten boxes of novels and hot pin-up magazines.”
Xu Chun: “???” That really wasn’t necessary.
Xu Chun had already sent Qin Yao a message; she hadn’t replied yet. So He Qingli stayed holed up at Xu Chun’s place, rambling on about this and that, chatting in fits and starts. Just when the two were running out of things to say, the equally grim-faced Jiang Zhaolie’s face quietly swam into view.
After much agonizing, Jiang Zhaolie had decided to come to the set and have a proper talk with Yu Sui’an. She cared about their relationship and wanted to keep developing it well, so if there truly was conflict and estrangement between them, she didn’t mind showing weakness and softening, being the one to offer the olive branch.
As long as the end result was good, she didn’t care.
But no sooner had she stepped out of the car than she saw Xu Chun eyeing her with keen interest.
Jiang Zhaolie instinctively turned to walk the other way and keep her distance, but the other called out to stop her. The tone was full of concern. “Zhaolie, why do you look so worried and dispirited?”
She sounded a little emotional. “Have you run into something bad lately? How about I find you a stepmother to ward off the bad luck!”
Jiang Zhaolie came to a dead halt: “............” *Ptooey!* Wolfish ambition.
TL Note:
Hong Shixian (洪世贤) = a notoriously unfaithful character from the Chinese drama *The Temptation to Go Home*; his baffled “?” face is a meme.
Jinjiang (晋江) = a major Chinese web-novel platform known for strict content censorship.
little cabbage nobody loves or pities (没人疼没人爱的小白菜) = a self-pitying phrase from a folk song, meaning someone abandoned and unloved.
find you a stepmother to ward off bad luck (冲喜) = a traditional practice of using a joyous event, like a marriage, to dispel illness or misfortune; here used as a joke.