After Being Marked by the Top Celebrity Childhood Friend [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 8

Turn around

“Hahahahahahahahahaha…”

“Um?”

Lu Ling stared at Lin Que, who was clutching her stomach with laughter, feeling utterly at a loss.

The moment their eyes met, Lin Que took a deep breath, only to break down into laughter again.

“What is it…?”

Lu Ling pulled up her zipper, half her face tucked into her collar, leaving only a pair of grape-like eyes staring at Lin Que.

Lin Que turned her head and took another deep breath, finally steadying herself this time. “First of all, I don’t particularly like blood. I prefer eating grains and miscellaneous foods.”

“Aren’t you a vampire?” Lu Ling muttered under her breath. “Is it even logical for a vampire not to like drinking blood?”

“Does someone eating a Wife Cake actually expect to eat a wife?” Lin Que countered.

“……”

It felt like a valid point, yet something seemed off.

Lin Que straightened up, propping her hands at her side as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror ahead. “Those boring legends say vampires can’t go a single day without fresh blood,” Lin Que paused, her tone shifting. “Actually, that’s not entirely incorrect.”

Lu Ling: “Huh?”

“In a time long, long ago, that was indeed the case. But back then, vampires weren’t the only ones living off blood,” Lin Que said. “Humans did, too.”

Lu Ling froze. “Did something happen back then? A famine?”

“A war?”

Lin Que didn’t answer immediately.

It was far, far, far too long ago.

But the reasons never strayed far from those possibilities.

“It sounds so exhausting,” Lu Ling said.

Lin Que raised an eyebrow slightly. “Then you should rest—”

“I meant you.”

Lu Ling exhaled, looking at Lin Que with a layer of sorrowful empathy in her eyes. “The wars, diseases, and famines of that time… they must have hit like a chain reaction. It must have been so painful for you to watch those people and those scenes.”

—Painful?

Lin Que couldn’t remember clearly.

It had been a long time since she had felt any so-called “emotions.”

“Will you die?”

Lin Que paused and looked up at her.

She smiled slightly, giving no answer, returning to that nonchalant expression as if the sky falling wouldn’t matter. “What do you think?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I think’…”

Lu Ling sat up straight. In her peripheral vision was Lin Que’s reflection—thin as a blade, wearing only a white cashmere base layer against the blue bedsheets, looking like a spray of foam on a calm sea.

Her heart inexplicably skipped a beat.

“I think you will.”

Lu Ling’s gaze shifted from the mirror to the real person beside her. “We are the same.”

“Mm~” Lin Que looked away, sliding down to hide under the covers, her voice muffled. “I’m really so hungry~~”

“Stay hungry for a bit, let me ask one more—” Lu Ling grabbed the blanket, but Lin Que flipped over and sat up, clutching the other corner. A blanket war broke out without warning.

“Wow, Lu Youyou, listen to yourself. Are you even human? You’re acting less human than I am!”

“Never mind that… just one last—ah!”

In the gap between Lu Ling’s words, Lin Que saw her chance and struck decisively, poking Lu Ling’s elbow. In an instant, Lu Ling’s entire arm went numb—yet Lu Youyou was nothing if not stubborn. Even with a numb arm, she refused to let go. Lin Que pulled slightly, and the blanket, along with Lu Ling, tumbled right into her arms.

For a moment, the atmosphere in the room grew awkward.

—Lin Que, what are you doing?

Under the blanket, Lu Ling bit her lip firmly, her cheeks flushed with a shy crimson.

If she’d known, she wouldn’t have made such a fuss.

And Lin Que?

Lu Ling cautiously tilted her head back, using her index finger to prop up the blanket slightly, then sniffed—a very faint scent of mint mixed with citrus.

The pressure on her waist lifted.

Lu Ling peeked out, and the moment their eyes met, before Lin Que could say a word, Lu Ling suddenly “came to her senses.” She decisively threw off the blanket. “Hungry, right? What do you want to eat? I’ll go buy it now. It’ll probably be closing time soon… no, I mean, the crowds will start gathering, and the lines will be long—”

She tidied herself up, stood by the bed, and looked Lin Que in the eye with burning intensity. “What do you want to eat?”

Lin Que blinked and answered softly, “Noodles?”

“Okay!”

“Just you wait!”

Slam—

Lu Ling left like a whirlwind, sparks flying.

Lin Que snapped out of it and couldn’t help but let out a light laugh—

Like a cow-patterned kitten trying to look fierce.

Just as Lin Que breathed a sigh of relief, the door opened again.

Lu Ling poked her head in, her messy low ponytail draped over her shoulder. “What kind of noodles?”

Lin Que had regained her composure. “Beef noodles, large bowl, double meat.”

Lu Ling frowned. “Can you finish all that?”

Lin Que gave an OK gesture.

Lu Ling remained skeptical. “But last time you just smelled it and ran straight to the bathroom to throw up.”

“Because it smelled too good.” Lin Que lowered her eyes, her expression looking as if she were reminiscing about another life. “Up until that day, I had spent 120 consecutive days eating nothing but lettuce leaves and water. Not having to be on set right now is actually a blessing.”

“I can finally eat.”

“There is nothing in this world more blissful than a full stomach,” Lin Que said seriously. “If there is, it’s eating your favorite food until you’re full.”

Lu Ling nodded solemnly. Before closing the door, she reached back in to give a thumbs up—“Universal truth!”

The two “depended on each other” for a week.

The public opinion, though bizarre, managed to logically link Lin Que to the news of Gu Ming’s death. Correspondingly, a series of detailed, well-crafted lies began to circulate.

Despite the official announcement released the next day stating that Lin Que had nothing to do with Gu Ming’s death and that the “yin-yang scripts” had no connection to her, the rumors persisted.

Gu Ming had committed suicide in his apartment after the dinner party ended. At the time, his wife was vacationing abroad with their daughter. The only “suspect” at the scene was the pet dog.

Statements from the studio and the company couldn’t avoid being over-interpreted.

The online battles continued. Reporters turned into detectives, camping outside the company and hotels. Lu Ling’s basement apartment, which cost nine hundred a month, became the safest sanctuary.

She shouldn’t dream of returning to her hotel anytime soon.

That was the message the company staff brought on behalf of Song He when they delivered her supplies.

Lin Que’s work ground to a total halt. Lu Ling’s newly started “new life” was slowly sliding back into the past—the difference was, this time, Lu Ling was anxious.

Every day she woke up, the first thing she did was open various social media apps. The second thing was to post various clarifications. Because she was so active, she had been promoted to a moderator of Lin Que’s “Super Topic” forum, becoming a “Yellow V” verified user with her original nickname. The final thing was to message Song He.

Song He’s replies were always the same: “Keep calm. Truth will out.”

Those same four words again.

By the time most people believed in Lin Que’s innocence, Lin Que would probably be old enough to retire.

Sitting around waiting for death was absolutely not an option.

Lu Ling thought.

Her first real job could not be declared a failure before it even got on track. Her life could not be a flop of a movie that got booed before it even started.

As a result, Lin Que noticed that Lu Ling seemed to have suddenly developed an internet addiction.

As long as her eyes were open, she stared at her phone. Yet, her routine was extremely disciplined: at eleven every night, she would switch off her phone and fall asleep about ten minutes later.

“Is that so?”

On the other end of the phone, Shen Yuchu also found it a bit unbelievable, though she remained mostly lighthearted. She shifted the topic back from Lu Ling to Lin Que. “So now, do you have any thoughts on this?”

Shen Yuchu didn’t care about Lu Ling’s internet addiction; she only cared about Lin Que’s thoughts. “Don’t want to be a star anymore?”

It was pitch black outside the room. The faint glow of the phone screen illuminated the side of Lin Que’s face.

She only had herself to blame for things turning out this way.

Before the dinner started, after Gu Ming forced the drinks, or at any other point, if she had told Shen Yuchu, it would have all been over.

But she didn’t.

A person surrounded by intense controversy obviously garners more attention than someone who is perfect and flawless.

When she was twenty, she didn’t know what kind of person she would become this time around.

She hadn’t even bothered to think about it.

Faced with the olive branch offered by the talent agency, she wasn’t particularly moved. What actually struck a chord was a desperate speech from Jia Jia: “A woman who is famous and long-active on the screen… no matter when, even when she finally goes into the ground, when people mention her, it will always be her name—not someone’s mother, or someone’s wife.”

“Sister, it’s important that our names exist independently. It’s more important than anything.”

“…It’s not that much trouble if you want to make a comeback. A few directors happened to want to meet me these past few days—” Before Shen Yuchu could finish, Lin Que finally spoke: “Isn’t that just ‘unspoken rules’ (casting couch)?”

Even though she couldn’t see Shen Yuchu’s face, Lin Que could imagine her rolling her eyes.

“Are you sick?”

“Having a fit?”

“Niannian has truly grown up; she can even scold me now.”

Shen Yuchu: “…Acting crazy again.”

Being scolded made Lin Que feel better. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the sleeping Lu Ling. “I still have to film. It wouldn’t be good to let a certain someone lose her job right after she started.”

Shen Yuchu froze.

Lin Que sighed over the phone and seemed to chuckle softly. “Youyou has been quite depressed lately because there’s no work.”

Shen Yuchu’s eyes darkened.

Lin Que mentioned Lu Ling in almost every single phone call.

Even though the person who had been solving her troubles was her.

She shouldn’t have agreed to Lin Que’s request in the first place.

“Zhao Zhao?”

Shen Yuchu snapped back to reality. “The signal was a bit bad just now—Sister.”

“It’ll be a while before I can come back. The work here is quite troublesome,” Shen Yuchu said, her tone softening unconsciously.

Lin Que exhaled, her eyes turning gentle. “Then how about I go there next week to keep you company? I don’t have work anyway.”

“Okay—”

Before Shen Yuchu could even finish the word “okay” in her joy, Lin Que added another sentence: “I’ll bring Lu Youyou along, treat it as a vacation for her—”

“Huh?”

Lin Que looked at her phone screen. “Why did she hang up?”

I shouldn’t have come to Europe.

I should be back home.

Shen Yuchu stood up, having not slept all night, and dialed a number. “—Hello… it’s me… about that bald guy…”

Sister, just you wait.

Only I—and it will only ever be me—can solve every problem that appears around you.

—“AAAAAAAH!”

The next day, Lin Que was jolted awake by Lu Ling’s scream.

“What happened?”

Before she could even regain her senses, the mattress beside her sank.

Lu Ling was so agitated that she didn’t notice their proximity had “evolved” into being “intimate.”

Her shoulder brushed against Lin Que’s arm as she thrust her phone in front of Lin Que’s eyes like she had discovered a new continent.

Lin Que’s eyes were sore and blurry. She rubbed them while instinctively nodding in response, but Lu Ling was completely immersed in excitement:

“Lin Que! We have a chance to turn things around!”