Always Chasing My White Moonlight Omega - Chapter 23
“No, it’s not like that.”
Ruan Yang’s voice was hoarse as she tried to explain to Xu Zhiyi: “It’s not like that.”
She never meant it that way.
No one in this world hated seeing Xu Zhiyi upset more than she did.
“Then what is it like?” Xu Zhiyi opened her eyes. “Do you think that by shielding me from that cat, I’d go easy on you about your birthday party?
“Ruan Yang, what a clever plan.”
The coldness in Xu Zhiyi’s eyes stung Ruan Yang’s own, making them burn.
Back when she was seventeen, just after arriving at the Xu household, Xu Zhiyi had looked at her with that same expression.
Unconsciously, Ruan Yang took a step forward, and Xu Zhiyi stepped back.
“Enough,” Xu Zhiyi said. “Enough, Ruan Yang. Stop your hypocritical pandering.”
Xu Zhiyi wanted to say more she had a temper, after all but even as threats rose to the tip of her tongue, she found herself unable to voice them when she saw the look in Ruan Yang’s eyes.
What right did Ruan Yang have to be upset?
Wearing that expression as if she were the one who should be hurting.
“You’d better hope your mother doesn’t actually marry into this family,” Xu Zhiyi said. “Before, I tolerated you both because I knew my father wouldn’t marry your mother. But it’s different now, Ruan Yang. If you really become my sister,
“I’ll make sure your future ends right here.”
With that, Xu Zhiyi turned and walked away.
Ruan Yang remained where she stood, watching Xu Zhiyi’s retreating figure grow smaller and smaller.
Just like countless times before.
She never wanted to be Xu Zhiyi’s sister.
–
In the days that followed, someone leaked online that the Golden Tree Award, which Zheng Tang had won, had actually been taken from Xu Zhiyi.
The whistleblower’s post was assertive and detailed, sounding so much like an industry insider that it immediately captured the attention of most netizens.
The article claimed that the award had been determined by online public voting, with Xu Zhiyi leading by a significant margin.
Xunguang, Xu Zhiyi’s agency, had initially never considered interfering with the award. But recently, something unexpected happened.
Xu Zhiyi was terminating her contract with Xunguang.
The termination process was messy, and Xunguang wasn’t willing to let their cash cow walk away with the award. So, they decided to buy it and give it to Zheng Tang, another artist under their label who had recently gained some popularity.
The earlier scandal between Zheng Tang and Xu Zhiyi had also been orchestrated by Xunguang to squeeze the last bit of value out of Xu Zhiyi tying her to Zheng Tang to boost the latter’s fame.
It was obvious that Xunguang had been pushing Zheng Tang lately. Zheng Tang herself knew the award had been bought. Rumor had it she had recently gotten involved with some powerful figure.
After the massive scandal broke, this figure had covered for her, spending lavishly to whitewash Zheng Tang’s image. In the end, they even pressured Zheng Tang’s ex-girlfriend into issuing a statement retracting her previous claims.
She was just an ordinary ex-girlfriend, she said. Everything had been fabricated out of revenge stemming from her unrequited love for Zheng Tang.
The apology letter was filled with remorse toward Zheng Tang but made no mention of Xu Zhiyi, whose reputation had suffered far greater damage from the false accusations.
As soon as the article was posted, hordes of spectators flocked to the scene.
Some had already speculated that Xu Zhiyi’s award had been stolen by Zheng Tang otherwise, why would she have shed that tear during the live broadcast of the awards ceremony?
This article was clearly posted by an industry insider. The netizens who had guessed correctly were thrilled, joining Xu Zhiyi’s fans in fervently dissing Zheng Tang on the public forums.
At the same time, many dismissed the article as baseless, pointing out the lack of key evidence and calling only fools gullible enough to believe it.
The two factions clashed fiercely, though the majority of netizens remained on the fence, arguing that such an article alone shouldn’t be enough to draw conclusions about who stole whose award.
But their rationality didn’t last long.
Not long after, Xu Zhiyi’s studio posted on Weibo.
As if to confirm the article’s credibility, the studio announced that due to “minor disagreements with her former company regarding future development plans,” Xu Zhiyi would not be renewing her contract with Xunguang Entertainment.
What kind of disagreements?
Imaginative netizens began speculating wildly, digging deeper and uncovering how Xu Zhiyi had been exploited when she first joined Xunguang.
The more they dug, the more they realized Xunguang was a company notorious for squeezing its artists dry countless aspiring actors had their dreams crushed after signing with them.
Only after Xu Zhiyi rose to fame and gained influence did Xunguang stop pushing her around as they once had.
But nothing stays hidden forever. Once Xunguang’s misdeeds came to light, many former artists who had suffered under them stepped forward to share their stories.
The internet was ablaze with heated debates. Ruan Yang silently scrolled through her phone, thinking to herself that Xu Zhiyi had won this round.
She turned off her phone and walked forward, only to find Zheng Tang arguing with the assistant director again.
Likely affected by the online backlash, Zheng Tang’s expression was dark, fury burning in her eyes.
She jabbed a finger at the assistant director and snapped, “Why did the director call Qu Lingxuan here?! Is he planning to replace me? Did he even get my approval? We have a contract!”
Anyone could see Zheng Tang was in an unstable state of mind.
Her assistant rushed over to calm her. “No, Tang-jie, Director just invited Lingxuan-jie for a cameo role. It’s not what you think.”
“What I think?” Zheng Tang shoved the assistant to the ground. “Did you see the way Qu Lingxuan carried herself earlier? Did that look like a cameo? She was so arrogant, she’s clearly here to take my place!”
She screamed, “Where’s the director? I want to see the director!”
Ruan Yang stood to the side, quietly observing. Only one thing caught her attention, the name “Qu Lingxuan.”
Why was Qu Lingxuan here?
She turned and headed toward the director’s lounge.
Just as she arrived, Director Wu walked out, followed by Xu Zhiyi and Qu Lingxuan.
Qu Lingxuan smiled at Xu Zhiyi before nodding at the director and extending her hand. “Well then, Director Wu, looking forward to working together.”
Wu Jun returned the handshake with a grin. “Looking forward to it.”
As they parted, he received a call from the assistant director about Zheng Tang’s outburst. Frowning, he muttered, “This Zheng Tang, really…”
“I have some urgent matters to attend to,” he said to Xu Zhiyi. “Zhiyi, could you help me entertain Lingxuan for a bit? You two have worked together before catch up.”
Xu Zhiyi nodded.
Wu Jun quickly left the area.
Not wanting to be noticed, Ruan Yang hid behind a nearby pillar the moment Wu Jun turned away.
After a brief silence between Xu Zhiyi and Qu Lingxuan not far away, Xu Zhiyi suddenly said, “Want to grab a meal? That same restaurant from last time.”
Ruan Yang’s breath hitched for a second.
Her mind flashed back to the night of the crew dinner, when she had asked Xu Zhiyi if she would continue being with Qu Lingxuan.
And Xu Zhiyi, standing beneath the parasol tree, had tossed aside a leaf and lazily replied, “Who knows?”
Qu Lingxuan agreed. “Let’s go then. It feels like it’s been ages since we last ate together.”
Something about those words struck a nerve in Ruan Yang, as if a string in her mind had suddenly snapped. She abruptly stepped out from behind the pillar and strode toward Xu Zhiyi.
She stopped right in front of her, gaze blazing, emotions surging like a stormy sea.
Every word she spoke struck Xu Zhiyi’s heart like a hammer.
She said, “Xu Zhiyi, you’re not allowed to go.”
I forbid you to go.