After The Web Novel Great God Transmigrated As A Scummy Online Dating Top - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Y Guild Discussion Group Voice Acting Guild

PR – Little Fu: This Mu Qianshan is such a joke. She played a tiny supporting role and now she acts like she’s some big shot. PR – Little Fu: She obviously never intended to sign, but she let me talk forever before rejecting me. Isn’t that just playing with people? PR – Little Fu: I’m so mad! This person is truly awful! GIF of a chibi character kneeling and crying

The group, usually quiet during the workday, suddenly came alive.

CV – Cui Yu: What’s wrong, Little Fu? Who bullied you? There, there, don’t be mad~ Artist – Roasted Uncle: What happened? Don’t cry, sister. Tell me and I’ll settle the score for you! CV – Torrential Rain: Mu Qianshan? She’s always been like that in the circle—arrogant as hell for no reason. Why did our guild even want to sign her?

Little Fu was technically just a PR assistant—basically a receptionist—but because she had a “special relationship” with the Guild Leader, she was a privileged figure. In a small guild where everyone scrambled for commercial gigs to make ends meet beyond the tiny signing bonus, sucking up to the Leader’s “pillow talker” was a survival skill.

Satisfied by the wave of sympathy, Little Fu began to embellish. The actual phone call had lasted barely two minutes, with her doing 98% of the talking. Mu Qianshan had spoken for maybe ten seconds.

But Little Fu was jealous that the Leader had personally listened to To Climb the Heavenly Ladder and decided he must have Mu Qianshan. Furthermore, being pampered in the guild had made her thin-skinned. To her, a bit-part actress should have been groveling for an invitation. Instead, she got a cold rejection and was hung up on.

By the time she finished her story in the chat, her lies had convinced even herself that she was a victim of heinous bullying. While most sucked up to her, a few veteran members simply muted the group, annoyed by the noise.

…

The Neighborhood Encounter

After her uncle’s rowdy friends finally left at 6:00 PM—having turned a lunch into a six-hour marathon of drinking and bragging—Lin Muxue took the trash and a bag of empty beer cans to the alley entrance.

The sunset painted the sky in shades of orange. As she debated whether to go back to writing or take a walk, a voice called out from behind her.

“Muxue? Is that really you?”

She turned to see Zhang Zhaoguang, the “precious grandson” of the neighbor next door.

Are we close in this timeline? she wondered.

“Hello,” she said, her tone cool and polite.

Zhang Zhaoguang’s brows twitched. He scanned her from head to toe, then stepped closer, reaching out as if to pat her shoulder. “Why the sudden change in style? You looked fine before.”

Lin Muxue stepped aside, effectively dodging his hand while appearing to give him room to pass. “Thank you.”

She didn’t engage further. “I have something to do. Goodbye.”

She decided to take that walk. If she went home now, she’d have to walk with him, and her “gut feeling” about this man was decidedly negative.

Zhang Zhaoguang watched her walk away, utterly baffled. He was certain the girl next door had a crush on him; he’d flirted with her plenty, and he knew she used a recording of him singing as her ringtone.

Sure, she was “dumb and easy to fool,” but she had a great body. His only gripe was her height. He was barely 172cm (5’8″), and while he was decent-looking with filters, standing next to a 175cm (5’9″) girl with legs for days made him look like a short-legged toad.

Is she playing hard to get? he mused, stroking his chin. New hair, new clothes, new “cool goddess” persona… purely to get my attention, obviously.

He walked toward his own cramped, dark courtyard, dreaming of the day they might get “demolition compensation.” If he married the only niece of that old drunkard Zhong, the spacious Zhong family yard would eventually be his.

…

The Social Media Miss

Lin Muxue walked along the cobblestone alleys, enjoying the peace. She took a few high-angle photos of the mossy stones under the setting sun and posted them to her “Moments” (朋友圈). It wasn’t to show off; it was just her habit of recording life.

Meanwhile, Chu Meng—bored and scrolling through her phone—saw the update. She sat up straight.

The octopus monster is going for the “artistic” vibe today?

Chu Meng quickly searched Baidu for some deep, melancholic poetry, copied a few lines, added some vague, soulful words of her own, and posted an update visible only to Lin Muxue. She waited gleefully for a reaction.

She, of course, did not know that Lin Muxue was the type of person who could calmly ignore a mountain of unread notification dots for years.