After Encountering My Deceased Wife, I Became the Male Lead's Love Rival - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Trump Card

“Ling-ling, many endorsements have reached out to you recently. I’ve screened some suitable ones; take a look.” On Sunday, as soon as Ling Qiu got her phone back, her manager called to brief her on the work schedule.

“Okay, thank you for your hard work.” Ling Qiu opened the email sent by her manager and saw a dense list of endorsement invitations.

Ling Qiu was somewhat taken aback. “Why are there so many?” Even during her most popular years, she hadn’t had this many top-tier brands seeking her out. Especially the last page it was almost entirely top-tier luxury brands that had never previously sought domestic spokespeople.

“Since you don’t spend much time online, you probably don’t realize how popular Meeting You in the Ordinary has become,” her manager remarked with a sigh. “This show has become a permanent fixture on the trending searches.”

Of course, this was largely thanks to Fang Ziyue; she alone had stirred up a national sensation. Whether it was marketing accounts, hired trolls, or streamers and influencers, everyone had been making a fortune lately by bashing her.

“As for those on the last page, Designer Z arranged all of them for you.”

Designer Z never showed her face. Aside from certain members of foreign royalty, no one knew what Z looked like or what her personality was. People only knew she held a vast amount of resources; unfortunately, many A-list actors and actresses had no way to contact her.

Yet, such a mysterious and powerful entity had suddenly appeared by Ling Qiu’s side, extending a helping hand during her most desolate and difficult time. Even across the ocean, across time zones, without seeing Z’s face or hearing her true voice, Ling Qiu was certain the other party genuinely cared for her and regarded her as a close friend.

Ling Qiu smiled. Perhaps it was a case of hitting rock bottom and bouncing back that allowed her to meet such a wonderful person during her hardest hour.

“Oh, by the way, Ling-ling, remember to post something on Weibo. Many fans are clamoring for it.”

Ling Qiu didn’t like using Weibo; usually, her manager had to nag and remind her to maintain her presence there.

“Alright.” Ling Qiu nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. “Business” posts were quite a headache. To be honest, her daily life was very plain, and she always felt there was nothing worth sharing. As for photos, she didn’t like taking selfies…

Ah, right!

Ling Qiu’s eyes lit up as she suddenly remembered the row of small wooden animal carvings in the house. Fang Ziyue had given them to her, and each one had a name and a story. She could record a video introducing those little animals. By recounting those stories, she wouldn’t have to rack her brain to find things to say.

It was hard to imagine, but in her previous “business” videos, she usually had nothing to say. She would just dryly record the surrounding scenery, say “see you” and “bye-bye,” and end the video. Even then, fans would scream that it wasn’t enough; it seemed they truly loved her. Ling Qiu felt a bit guilty; watching her dry social media presence must be quite a struggle for the fans.

After handling her work, Ling Qiu opened Weibo to see just how popular the show was, but the moment she entered the interface, she was captivated by a single image.

A tall woman in a white shirt looked up to embrace the morning sun, appearing like a transient cloud in the sky that could dissipate into the light at any moment. Carrying the only touch of lonely “negative space” in the wilderness, she seemed to depart quietly, unnoticed by anyone.

Ling Qiu stared fixedly at the image. Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a hand, the throbbing pain making her gasp. She instinctively pressed down on the person in the photo, as if doing so could pull her back from that dead silence grabbing her left wrist to bring her back to the world of the living.

But when her finger touched the screen, the image swiped away, replaced by other advertisements. On the yogurt ad that popped up, two cute characters swayed to the music, but Ling Qiu saw none of it. In the midst of the cheerful music, she clutched her lapel tightly, suppressing the discomfort in her chest.

It was too strange. Clearly… she didn’t like Fang Ziyue. Why did seeing that photo make her feel so uneasy?

It took a long time for Ling Qiu to snap out of it. She pressed her eyes in frustration. Forget it; lunch wasn’t made yet, she had to get busy. As for the phone, she had long since tossed it far away like a hot potato, not daring to even touch it.

Having navigated the industry for so many years, Ling Qiu’s self-regulation ability was strong. She quickly concluded the reason for her loss of composure. A good photographer can endow a photo with powerful vitality; perhaps Fang Ziyue herself wasn’t lonely, but the composition of that specific photo produced such an effect.

Ling Qiu walked to the window and saw the woman making furniture under the shade of a tree. The slight upward curve of her lips indicated she was in a good mood.

That’s good…

Ling Qiu didn’t know why she suddenly felt relieved. As she picked up the spatula to start cooking, she realized with a start that the ingredients she had prepared unconsciously were all things Fang Ziyue liked to eat.

“Ugh…” Ling Qiu covered her forehead with a groan of mental agony, adding a heavy mark against Fang Ziyue’s name in her heart! Why did she have to take photos for no reason? It made one’s mind so unsettled.

“Fine, treat it as a consolation meal for her heartbreak,” Ling Qiu comforted herself. Regardless, she had clearly rejected Fang Ziyue’s confession; whether the other person was sad or dejected had nothing to do with her. You can’t say that just because someone loves you, you have to love them back; that’s not fair.

Especially since the other party was the woman who had once intervened in her marriage. If she were to accept such a “third party” and be with her, Ling Qiu could only say she was pathetic.

Forcibly “whitewashing” the title of “the other woman” was impossible. Ling Qiu wouldn’t accept it, and Fang Ziyue found it even more disgusting.

Fang Ziyue now felt fortunate that the original owner of this body was a cowardly, mentally fragile fool. When Lin Mengyan instructed her to drug the drink, she didn’t dare do it; eventually, a furious Lin Mengyan sent her own people to do it. Lin Mingcheng had also faked his unconsciousness, lying on a waiter’s back to be carried to Lin Mengyan’s room.

Otherwise, given the original owner’s nature, seeing Lin Mingcheng would have been like a hyena seeing meat. How could she have possibly taken Lin Mingcheng to Lin Mengyan’s room and paved the way for someone else? She would have dragged the man home long ago.

But in the end, even though she didn’t dare participate in any of that mess, the label of “the other woman” was still pinned on her. The reason was that Lin Mengyan had once found a good resource for the original owner that “silly white vase.”

The original owner trusted Lin Mengyan so much that she signed the contract without reading it. That contract stipulated that if anything happened, the original owner had to take all the blame, or else pay a breach-of-contract fine of 100 million yuan.

The most treacherous part of Lin Mengyan’s plan was that the recipient of that 100 million fine was listed as Lin Mingcheng. The original owner loved Lin Mingcheng to the point of madness; there was no way she could stand by and watch the man she loved lose money, so she foolishly gritted her teeth and took the fall.

She even moved herself with the thought that she had sacrificed so much for Lin Mingcheng. In the end, Lin Mingcheng’s public statement expressing disgust for her actions became the final straw. The original owner’s “glass heart” shattered, and she committed suicide by slitting her wrists.

Fang Ziyue pressed her slightly aching left wrist. When she first transmigrated, this wrist had been severely slashed. Even though she later sought treatment from many famous doctors abroad, it never fully healed. Whenever it was overcast or rainy, or if she used the left wrist for too long, it would throb with a dull, weak pain.

She pressed the scar on her wrist through the bracelet, her deep gaze fixed on the figure busy in the kitchen.

This injury… was also one of her trump cards in chasing her wife.

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