After the Agreement, the Aloof Movie Queen is Chasing Me All Over the Internet - Chapter 57

Jing Ping’s name had originally been the utterly mundane “Ping,” meaning “flat” or “ordinary,” according to the family genealogy. However, the older generation of her family was quite superstitious, believing that a name dictated one’s destiny, so they changed it to the “Ping” from the idiom “drifting like duckweed” (Ping shui xiang feng).

As it turned out, the change was a double-edged sword. It directly led to her “drifting into” the life of a certain Miss Shen Qing.

Jing Ping was no ordinary agent. She hailed from a fashion dynasty; both of her mothers were high-ranking PR directors for legacy luxury brands in the Asia-Pacific region. Jing Ping had practically grown up backstage at fashion shows, yet her interests lay in the inner workings of the entertainment industry.

Firstly, she loved the fast-paced lifestyle and found the repetitive nature of runway shows dull. Secondly, she had fallen for the “School Beauty” of a neighbouring university a girl who was reportedly interested in the industry and had a particular fondness for sea-salt lattes.

Jing Ping was two years senior to this girl and had started her own business and team two years earlier than her. What she hadn’t expected was for the then-A-list star, Shen Qing, to approach her personally.

Sitting behind her desk, Jing Ping’s eyes had been full of curiosity. “We’ve had a great chat, but before we sign, there’s one thing I’d like to… well, discuss frankly? Why did you and your previous independent agent part ways? I heard you worked together for many years.”

Shen Qing’s former agent was incredibly capable, the one who had essentially crafted Shen Qing’s image as the “Nation’s Film Queen.”

Shen Qing had replied flatly: “My girlfriend didn’t like her. So I sacked her.”

Was this ‘Ice Queen’ actually a hopeless romantic? Jing Ping had immediately held up a hand to count off a fee, intending to demand a figure so astronomical it would scare her off.

“Fine,” Shen Qing had said, looking up coldly. “Add another zero to that.”

Instead of scaring Shen Qing away, Jing Ping had nearly been frightened off by the sheer amount of money the woman was offering. Shen Qing was a woman of few words; to avoid being fired herself, Jing Ping had tried every conversation starter under the sun. She found that Shen Qing only responded when the topic turned to her girlfriend.

At the time, Shen Qing had warned: “Don’t mention her outside of this room.”

Jing Ping was savvy enough not to ask again. Secret lovers were a dime a dozen in the industry.

Gong Lin poured herself another glass of wine. “And… then what?”

“Then she went through a breakup. For a whole year, she was like the walking dead, she needed three sleeping pills a night just to drift off. No matter how I tried to comfort her, she wouldn’t snap out of it.”

Jing Ping’s cheeks were flushed with a drunken glow, her voice trembling with a hint of a sob. “So, I started telling her stories. I told her my life was more tragic. I joined a group chat for the neighbouring university and found a girl with the handle ‘GL’. I thought she was into girls, too. I did some digging and found out she was a top student and the school beauty a lovely person. I’d had a crush on her for a year and a half. When I finally plucked up the courage to message her, I called her ‘Lao Gong’ (Hubby/Old Gong) to get close… and she blocked me instantly!”

“Jing Ping… don’t think just because I’m drunk… I can’t tell you’re talking about me…” Gong Lin rested her head in her hand, her head throbbing from the alcohol. “Did it never occur to you why I blocked you?”

Gong Lin sighed. “That was just the initials of my name.”

Jing Ping: She didn’t need to fake crying anymore; the tears were real.

“Now I’m even more miserable… Stop drinking, it’s my turn.” Furious and teary-eyed, Jing Ping snatched the glass from Gong Lin and began chugging.

Gong Lin had no choice but to tell her the drunken truth: she didn’t feel anything when it came to dating; she was essentially asexual.

“You’re so kind,” Jing Ping said, feeling oddly comforted as she wiped her nose. “Did you explain that specifically for me?”

Gong Lin shook her head. “No. It’s because you’re lying on my lap and I can’t move.”

Ah. Gong Lin was a total block of wood. But it was all Shen Qing’s fault!

The two of them had been utterly wasted, but they sobered up quickly. By the next day, Jing Ping was back to her efficient self, managing her team while fiddling with her car keys.

“Don’t worry,” Jing Ping said, patting Yaozhi’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Leave it to me.”

“Get some rest, stop staying up late, and for heaven’s sake, drink less.” Jing Ping leaned against the car door. She had dressed for business in a sharp black suit, sleeves rolled up to her forearms. She was busy replying to messages even as she lectured.

Gong Lin blinked, her brow furrowing. “Have you taken the wrong medicine? Why the sudden concern?”

Jing Ping replied seriously: “I’m just worried about your ‘condition’.”

Gong Lin: Could she please focus on the Fashion Gala instead?

Jing Ping was busy and needed to move fast. She opened the car door and waved a hand in front of Gong Lin’s eyes. “I’m off.”

“Remember to tell our Zhizhi not to worry too much.” Her voice trailed off as she drove away.

Despite Jing Ping’s assurances, Gong Lin remained uneasy. The suggestion Du Yaozhi had made yesterday was far too explosive. Terrifyingly so.

Yaozhi explained it again that morning. “Since she wants it so badly, why not give it to her?”

“Leak my gown choice to her.”

Gong Lin: Are you joking?

It was a nightmare; she had worked so hard to secure the deal and keep it under wraps, only to be told to leak the info to their rival. But Yaozhi was perfectly serious, telling her it was the best way to “toy with the child.” Gong Lin had no choice but to comply.

Gong Lin was clever about it. She didn’t approach Xu Wanxin’s team directly. Instead, she chose a third-party stylist known for being close to Xu Wanxin and for “boasting about their connections,” and dropped a few hints. Then, as Yaozhi requested, she switched Yaozhi’s outfit to a much simpler, understated alternative.

Yaozhi stood by the window, an unlit cigarette between her fingers. “The original gown was already striking enough. If Xu Wanxin wants to pull a ‘who-wore-it-better’ stunt to outshine me, she’ll do everything in her power to grab a more flamboyant, top-tier version of it. She’ll play with fire and get burnt.”

“Will it work?” Gong Lin asked.

Yaozhi flicked her lighter and lit the cigarette slowly. “Don’t underestimate her. She’s the heiress of Huasheng; whatever resources she wants can be delivered to her in a heartbeat.”

Yaozhi’s features were soft, with a natural, slight droop to the corners of her eyes. She tilted her head, and a thin veil of smoke drifted along her jawline, blurring the beauty mark beneath her eye.

“I was talking about you,” Gong Lin sighed, watching Yaozhi’s back. She hadn’t met many celebrities with such a unique personality yet; she wasn’t used to it.

“Me?” Yaozhi flicked the ash from her cigarette, moved it away, and winked at her. “I’m just toying with a child.”

The night of the Fashion Gala was a scene of chaotic luxury backstage.

Xu Wanxin had already changed into the exquisite gown she had fought so hard to obtain. She wore a coat over it to hide the bodice. The massive skirt took up almost the entire private dressing room. She stared at her jewel-encrusted reflection, trying to suppress the irritation caused by the lack of progress with An Dongling.

“Is that bitch An Dongling behaving yet?” Xu Wanxin asked coldly.

Qin Qian replied cautiously, “We’ve pressured her as you ordered. She wouldn’t dare disobey. It’s just… she’s a coward with a stubborn streak, so…”

“Useless!” Xu Wanxin grabbed a powder brush from the table and hurled it at the hairstylist who was working on her hair. “Too slow! You’re taking ages with a simple hairstyle!”

“Ow!” The stylist was hit hard but didn’t dare speak up.

Xu Wanxin took a deep breath, adjusting her expression in the mirror. Her tone was venomous. “Tell her if she dares to ruin my plans, her mother in the hospital can forget about getting the best medicine.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Qin Qian nodded quickly, then offered a sycophantic smile. “Don’t waste your breath on a small fry like her. Tonight is your moment to shine. Once Director Wang switches the cameras and the public sees the comparison, we’ll start the hype. With Du Yaozhi looking that pathetic, her failing drama might even tank with her!”

“As long as you understand that.” Xu Wanxin sneered, her arrogance returning as she completely ignored the pained hairstylist. “The Fashion Gala may be a small event, but I want Du Yaozhi to lose face completely here! Do you hear me?!”

There was a knock on the door, but the person didn’t wait for an answer. Assuming the room was empty because no one replied, Yaozhi walked in, dressed in her casual clothes.

She immediately locked eyes with her nemesis, Xu Wanxin. Yaozhi’s gaze went cold. “Apologies. Wrong room.”

She was about to shut the door and leave when a sickly sweet voice rang out.

“Well, well.” Xu Wanxin hid her sinister expression and forced a smile. “Old friend. Still looking as penniless as ever. I do hope your look for tonight isn’t as ‘cheap’ as you are—that would be quite the embarrassment.”

Yaozhi looked at the massive skirt, knowing her plan had likely succeeded. A smirk played on her lips. “Don’t trouble yourself, Miss Xu. A gown should be well-fitted and appropriate. For someone of your… ‘weighty’ stature, it must be quite the struggle.”

Xu Wanxin’s face stiffened at the insinuation. Du Yaozhi has a foul mouth. This dress was something Yaozhi couldn’t afford if she saved for eight lifetimes. Still, Xu Wanxin thought herself clever for wearing a coat to hide her outfit. She didn’t want Yaozhi to realize she was planning to clash with her.

Deciding to go for the jugular to drive Yaozhi away, Xu Wanxin sneered: “True. After all, I didn’t grow up with a mother who ran off or a family buried in debt, being chased down the street by thugs.”

Gong Lin’s face dropped instantly. She stepped forward. “What did you say?”

Behind her, Shu Yuanxiang blurted out, “Don’t you talk about Sister Yaozhi like that!”

Yaozhi held them back, her grip firm yet calm. She shook her head.

“Miss Xu is certainly well-informed, digging up old accounts from over a decade ago.” Yaozhi’s voice was slow and clear. “However, instead of worrying about my past, you might want to fret over your own future. After all, jewellery stolen through your family’s falsified accounts might shine brightly, but one should always fear a knock at the door in the middle of the night.”

Xu Wanxin was speechless, her face turning various shades of livid. Yaozhi didn’t give her a second glance, leading Gong Lin and Yuanxiang away with perfect composure.

Xu Wanxin’s chest heaved with rage. She hissed at Qin Qian, “Go! Tell Director Wang to keep the cameras on her! I want every awkward expression she makes after we clash to be broadcast to the entire world!”

The event began. Director Wang sat in the broadcast van, barking into his walkie-talkie. He followed his instructions to keep the lens on Xu Wanxin, directing the host on the floor: “Quick! Get a close-up of Miss Xu!!”

“Look at that craftsmanship! The feathers, the crystals… how grand. This is what respect for a gala looks like!!”

“Good. Switch now.”

Xu Wanxin did her best to show off on the red carpet. The skirt was cumbersome, but her smile was triumphant. She was waiting for the disastrous comparison when Yaozhi appeared.

Director Wang was watching. According to the order, the next person was the actress his benefactor had targeted for the “clash.” The benefactor had banked on Yaozhi’s label of “no money, no background.”

It wasn’t just about who looked better. Once they clashed, no matter what Yaozhi wore, the benefactor would use paid trolls to flood the internet with headlines like “Du Yaozhi tries to copy Xu Wanxin” and “Heiress crushes penniless actress.” Then they’d bring up her family’s downfall to destroy both her image and her reputation.

A brilliant move, Wang thought. He’d taken the money and was happy to play along. He’d use a long shot to capture both of them in the same frame, let the internet do its work, and watch Yaozhi be drowned in vitriol.

A black luxury car pulled up at the end of the red carpet. The door opened, and a pair of long, pale legs stepped out.

“And now, a very special guest, due to a unique scheduling arrangement, she has adjusted her time specifically to join us!”

Director Wang perked up, sitting straight and preparing his commands. Here comes Du Yaozhi. He could practically see the topic exploding across the web.

However, the host’s next words hit him like a violent slap to the face.

“Please give a warm welcome to”

“MISS SHEN QING!!!”

Wait.

Wang’s head thrummed. He nearly slid off his chair. He lunged at the monitor, his eyes bulging.

What in the name of… Shen Qing?

Clashing outfits with a top-tier Film Queen?

This wasn’t a joke, this was a disaster!

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