After Reuniting with My Aloof Movie Queen Childhood Friend - Chapter 4

Things were progressing much more smoothly than Ji Youyi had imagined. Once inside the car, she reviewed the scene in her mind and decided that her mouthful of blood had been a stroke of genius.

Soothing her aching throat, she held onto the back of the passenger seat and asked the person in the driver’s seat in a sweet voice, “Sister, how should I address you?”

Fang Ruohan fastened her seatbelt while setting the GPS. “My last name is Fang.”

“Wonderful, Sister Fang!”

Through the rearview mirror, Fang Ruohan saw Ji Youyi smiling at her with crinkled eyes. That, combined with a voice so sweet it made her heart melt, caused the corners of her mouth to lift uncontrollably.

Having handled the easy one, Ji Youyi didn’t forget the “high-difficulty” individual sitting beside her.

The woman had removed her mask after getting into the car. Without the covering, her exquisite features were fully revealed, intensifying the cold, sharp aura surrounding her.

Ji Youyi unlocked her phone and pulled up her electronic ID.

“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself properly just now.” She proactively held her phone out for the person on her left to see. “My name is Ji Youyi. You can just call me Xiao Ji.”

Meng Xingshu looked at the screen.

S City native, 23 years old, born January 1st.

Ji Youyi hadn’t expected the other woman to stare at those few short lines for several seconds. Since she was the one asking for a favor, she couldn’t abruptly pull the screen away. Instead, she leaned sideways, tilting her head to squeeze her own face into the woman’s line of sight, blinking her eyes. “And you, Sister? Is it convenient to tell me your name?”

The air went silent for two seconds.

In the front seat, Fang Ruohan felt as if she’d been struck by lightning. Her fingers froze on the navigation screen, and her smile stiffened.

She actually liked Ji Youyi quite a bit, the girl was pretty, well-spoken, and had a pitiful background. But this pick-up line was just too much!

How could anyone in the industry pretend not to recognize Meng Xingshu?

She debuted at sixteen and became an instant hit. Three years later, she swept the “Big Three” Chinese film awards. Though she kept a low profile, her talent was anything but. For over a decade, she had been the undisputed “White Moonlight” of the entertainment world. Countless people were desperate for even a fraction of her prestige, how could Ji Youyi not know her?

Could it be she was trying to act “uniquely detached” to build a persona?

Meng Xingshu, however, had no reaction. She simply replied, “My surname is Meng. Meng as in ‘child’ over ‘vessel’.”

“Oh, Sister Meng!” A smile blossomed on Ji Youyi’s face.

Her pronunciation was clear and sweet, possessing a magical quality that made people happy just by listening to her. Hearing it, the tension in Fang Ruohan’s face gradually relaxed again.

Utterly unaware of the inner turmoil of those around her, Ji Youyi continued with a smile, “Sister Meng, you’re so beautiful. You look just like a big movie star.”

Meng Xingshu said calmly, “I am not a star.” Just an ordinary actor.

That’s good then, she’s likely just an ordinary wealthy person, Ji Youyi thought, feeling relieved.

“That’s a pity,” she said in a regretful tone before switching apps on her phone. “Sister, let’s add each other on WeChat. I’ll scan you.”

She opened the QR scanner. The green line slid up and down repeatedly, like her smile, it was a gesture of “patient waiting” that felt like a silent pressure, leaving the other person no room to refuse.

Meng Xingshu gazed back at her silently for two seconds before taking out her phone and opening her QR code.

The scan completed and the interface jumped. Ji Youyi immediately saw the other woman’s profile picture: a lake surface under moonlight, shimmering with ripples.

The name was a foreign one, [Ersilia]. The signature was blank, and the Moments feed didn’t even have a background cover.

Uh oh. The type of person who is impossible to find a conversation topic with even after adding them.

Without changing her expression, Ji Youyi typed out a sugary friend request right in front of Meng Xingshu and changed Meng’s alias to [My Dearest, Dearest, Dearest Sister Meng~].

After adding Meng Xingshu, Ji Youyi reached forward to add Fang Ruohan as well.

Social activities concluded for the moment. Ji Youyi sank into the comfortable seat and focused on her phone.

She’d have to haggle with her boss once they reached the company. Since she knew very little about “Little Ji,” she needed to cram right now.

First, she opened Weibo.

Reposts, comments, and private messages had exploded. Ji Youyi scanned them briefly, they were filled with insults. She wondered how long Little Ji had endured such days.

She clicked on her profile and skimmed through the posts to trace Little Ji’s life path.

Little Ji’s resources were terrible. Since her debut, she had only played supporting roles in web dramas and movies. Though the roles and her acting weren’t outstanding, she had gained a small following based on her looks.

However, the company didn’t want her to develop further. They treated her as a “disposable product” to make quick cash, forcing her into variety shows with “clown” scripts or making her appear in various livestreams.

Then, at the beginning of this year, Little Ji with her bottom-tier resources, suddenly appeared on a variety show with the top-tier idol, Zhou Wenchen. At the time, Zhou Wenchen was rumored to be dating the daughter of the real estate tycoon Meng Yuting.

On the show, Zhou Wenchen, usually known for his “warm guy” image, atypically acted cold and aloof, seemingly confirming the dating rumors. Little Ji, meanwhile, was given the “lick spittle” persona, following Zhou Wenchen around and trying to please him in every way. This incensed netizens, who branded her a “vixen.”

The show became a massive hit. All the guests leveled up in fame except for Little Ji, the sacrificial lamb. Her personal Weibo became a battlefield, a landfill for people to vent their negative emotions.

And she herself, after being squeezed dry of value, was tossed into the trash alongside the comments.

Ji Youyi switched to the trending page. The hot searches from top to bottom were:

• #Miss Meng Spends 800 Million on Love Nest
• #Who Doesn’t Want to Be the Changfeng Son-in-Law
• #Resorting to Suicide Because of Unrequited Love?
• #How Happy are Zhou Wenchen’s Fans
• #Yu Jinhui Says Zhou Wenchen has Great Character

After five consecutive fluff pieces, the sixth one was directly related to her: #Ji Youyi Suicide.

It didn’t mention a single word about the orchestrated cyberbullying.

This world was much like the one Ji Youyi came from entertainment news was merely a game of capital. Just by looking at the keywords, she could guess which factions were involved and what their motives were.

They wanted fame, money, traffic, fans, resources, status, and power. They wanted everything except a conscience or a sense of shame.

Ji Youyi clicked into the hashtag about herself, her finger scrolling rapidly.

【Didn’t she fail to die? Let me know when she actually dies. I’ll go kick the grave instead of offering incense.】

【Fake as hell. A selfish person like her wouldn’t actually want to die. It’s just a stunt!】

【Worthless except for her face, and she constantly tries to morally kidnap netizens. I wouldn’t even bother insulting her if she wasn’t such a bitch.】

【Her face isn’t even that good. She’s not just plain, she’s ugly. Seeing her makes me want to [Vomit]】

As Ji Youyi scrolled, she suddenly heard the person to her left speak: “How do you plan to negotiate the termination?”

Ji Youyi looked over. Meng Xingshu was watching her, half of her face in the shadows, her expression unreadable.

“Just… talk, I guess.” Ji Youyi couldn’t be too specific. “I’ll find the boss, we’ll talk and then we’ll terminate. Like that.”

“And the liquidated damages?”

Ji Youyi sniffled and said weakly, “If he insists I pay… then I’ll just have to pay…” Pay him my foot! Not a chance!

Meng Xingshu’s voice was low and cool, falling like running water into Ji Youyi’s ear:

“I suggest you bring a lawyer. You aren’t good at negotiating, they will lead you by the nose. If they demand compensation, you can refuse because the one in breach of contract is the company, not you.”

“First, their accusation that you damaged the company’s reputation is baseless. Respecting a senior colleague is a sign of your good upbringing, triggering public discourse is a professional requirement and choosing to end your life was your only way out under the high-pressure exploitation of the company.”

“Second, you can countersue the company for breach of contract. A company has duties and obligations toward its artists, including but not limited to taking public relations measures to protect your reputation when you suffer from cyberbullying. They clearly failed to do this, causing extreme harm to your physical and mental health.”

“Third, regarding financial obligations, payment of acting fees, and career planning, it is very likely the company has committed breaches. You should collect as much evidence as possible to be in a better position during negotiations. Going there in such a rush today might not be a wise choice.”

“Furthermore, if they insist on compensation, I suggest going through legal proceedings. On one hand, if your contract’s rights and obligations are truly lopsided, the court can void it. On the other hand, even if you have to pay, the amount will be relatively small, and the litigation cycle is long, giving you more time to raise funds. Think about it.”

Ji Youyi was stunned by this long speech.

She didn’t know what this “Sister” did for a living, but she was surprisingly well-versed in these matters. Moreover, her articulation was perfect and her pace was steady, her delivery was so good it would be a waste if she didn’t act.

After her surprise faded, Ji Youyi pretended not to understand and gave a troubled smile. “Sister Meng, thank you, but… never mind. That’s too difficult for me.”

Too difficult? Meng Xingshu looked at Ji Youyi.

“I have a simpler path,” Ji Youyi blinked.

Too difficult, so she wants a simple path.

Meng Xingshu thought of something. She nodded slightly and said no more.

She caught a glimpse of that slender, exposed ankle, which had been pale from the cold since they entered the car and turned the AC up by two degrees.

Silence returned to the cabin, save for the constant flow of warm air. The temperature rose, but for some reason, the atmosphere felt colder than before.

Ji Youyi’s curled-up body relaxed. She exited Weibo and opened WeChat.

Little Ji had very few friends, they were all business contacts or superficial acquaintances who rarely reached out before the incident and avoided her like the plague after.

Aside from her manager, Xu Pin’an, and that brain damaged President Zhang, the only person contacting her frequently was someone labeled “President Li.”

A dozen new messages from this morning were all insults and reprimands, long, 60 second voice notes, ending with a text summary: Pay up!

This wasn’t the first time he’d demanded money from Little Ji.

In the past, when he demanded she accompany clients for drinks and she refused, he would find a random excuse a few days later to accuse her of breach of contract and demand massive fines.

The millions of debts the poor girl owed had mostly flowed into President Li’s pockets.

Ji Youyi did a quick search. The founder of Little Ji’s agency, Wantao Entertainment, was named Li Niantao. This must be the “President Li.”

Dealing with these “Toms, Dicks, and Harrys” made Ji Youyi want to block them immediately, but since the contract wasn’t settled, she forced herself to endure for a few more hours.

Pinned at the top was that piece of trash ex. He had been rehearsing scripts with Little Ji in February, but as soon as the variety show ended, he deleted her.

Looking at the rows of red exclamation marks (indicating she was blocked) in the chat, Ji Youyi’s anger flared. Suppressing her temper, she quickly scrolled through five years of chat history. The information was significant.

Little Ji’s original name was Chen Xi. “Ji Youyi” was a name she gave herself after turning eighteen.

She came from a poor family and had spent her childhood cooking, cleaning, and slaving away for her alcoholic, gambling father. She started working before finishing middle school, and her wages were squandered by her parasitic father, leaving her with nothing but hunger and beatings.

At eighteen, she met Zhou Wenchen. He was gentle and handsome, said sweet things, smiled at her, and bought her chicken legs. So, she believed everything he said.

Zhou Wenchen said he was short on money and needed her to take out a loan for him. She did.

Zhou Wenchen said there was fast money in the entertainment industry and told her to sign with Wantao. She did.

Zhou Wenchen said he found his “true love” but was afraid his fans would attack him if he went public, so he needed her help. She helped.

In return, she received a crushing debt of 5.3 million yuan, a profile filled with filth and funeral photos, Zhou Wenchen’s cold indifference in public, and a string of red exclamation marks in private.

Ji Youyi didn’t blame Little Ji.

She had seen many girls like her.

They grew up without love, so when someone showed them even a tiny bit of kindness, they treated that person like a savior. A low sense of self-worth made them easy to control, as long as the other party gave them a little “sweetness” occasionally, they would willingly sacrifice everything.

It wasn’t her fault.

Someone who has lived in the eighteenth level of hell for a long time doesn’t know the surface exists. When she was brought to the seventeenth level, she thought that was happiness. Even if she caught a glimpse of heaven, she wouldn’t dare climb toward it, fearing she’d fall all the way back to the eighteenth level.

Ji Youyi’s eyes turned icy. Her finger moved quickly to unpin the contact and throw him into the blacklist.

Feeling tired from looking at “trash” for too long, she rubbed her eyes and stretched her neck. Her gaze reflexively drifted to the left.

Meng Xingshu was using her phone. From Ji Youyi’s perspective, she could only see her profile. Her cranium was full and well-shaped, and her facial contours were sharp and tight.

Even though Ji Youyi had filmed countless beauties during her days as a director, she couldn’t think of a single head more perfectly structured than this one.

“Director” Ji rested her chin on her hand, planning to admire this exquisite skull properly, when the owner of the skull seemed to sense her gaze and looked back.

A pair of peach-blossom eyes, calm and deep, met hers. Ji Youyi’s breath hitched for a split second, and she instinctively flashed a bright smile.

“Don’t smile like that. It’s fake.” With that cold evaluation, Meng Xingshu looked away.

Ji Youyi’s eyes widened.

She touched the corner of her mouth, disbelieving.

Fake? My smile is clearly everyone’s favorite!