Everyone in the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Flirty Diva [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 14

Faced with this obvious smear campaign orchestrated by rivals, Chu Xi was so furious she felt a pang in her kidneys. Fu Bai, upon seeing it, outright cursed.

What’s wrong with a 200-yuan dress? Did it steal anyone’s rice?

The two of them had already started worrying about how to handle the inevitable mockery, but when they checked Weibo again, the comments had completely shifted:

[Holy shit, this dress is only 200 yuan?! I’d believe it if you said 200,000!]

[It looks so good, nothing like a 200-yuan dress at all.]

[Chu Xi is amazing!]

Chu Xi: “?”

Fu Bai: “Looks like we don’t need PR anymore ￢_￢”

Chu Xi: “………………”

Who would have thought that a paid promotional post meant to smear her would end up turning out like this?

Which foolish rival had come to deliver themselves as cannon fodder?

This was clearly an ally in disguise.

Chu Xi’s first attempt at a sexy-style gown had already been stunning, but the fact that the dress she wore—which looked like it cost 200,000 yuan—actually only cost 200 yuan left everyone utterly bewildered. Her red carpet photos went viral across the internet, becoming one of the biggest highlights of this year’s Golden Feather Awards aside from the Best Actor and Actress winners.

Some criticized Chu Xi for wearing a 200-yuan dress on the red carpet, calling it “low,” but surprisingly, most people disagreed. Perhaps the public had grown weary of being bombarded with news about actresses wearing outrageously expensive gowns—daily headlines about who wore which haute couture piece worth hundreds of thousands, or which fans were furious that their idol’s dress was “too cheap” and tearing into the management team. Suddenly, a 200-yuan dress unexpectedly won people over.

What was wrong with that? It wasn’t a knockoff or vulgar and revealing—it was a proper, modest little domestic dress. With policies everywhere advocating frugality, and considering that red carpet gowns are typically one-time wear, wasn’t a 200-yuan dress perfectly aligned with the call for thriftiness? What was there to mock?

Besides, being able to make a 200-yuan dress look that good was a skill in itself.

In the end, even official media outlets reposted Chu Xi’s red carpet photos, praising her for embodying the virtue of frugality in the otherwise extravagant and flashy entertainment industry.

The 198-yuan strapless dress she wore—which had only sold a handful of units before being exposed—immediately sold out on Taobao. Even though countless fashion bloggers warned that without Chu Xi’s figure, the dress would be a disaster, nothing could stop girls from trying it out for themselves.

Almost predictably, though Chu Xi only made a cameo appearance when the Best Actress award was announced, she ended up winning the Golden Feather Awards’ Best Red Carpet Look of the year.

That night, Chu Xi’s fan group chat was suddenly flooded with join requests:

“Can I join? I’m a fan of Chu Xi’s face and body ()”

——

The awards ceremony ended around 10 p.m., and Chu Xi took the organizer’s arranged car back to her hotel.

The Golden Feather Awards organizers had made thorough arrangements for their guests. A few artists who lived in Haishi went straight home after the ceremony, while the majority were booked into the five-star Baojiali Hotel, located in downtown Haishi, not far from the venue.

After the awards ceremony, media attention had largely shifted to the new Best Actor and Actress winners. The hashtag #ChuXi’s200DollarDress gradually slipped down the trending list.

Chu Xi had her earbuds in, listening to music, when Fu Bai suddenly turned around excitedly to tell her she now had a fan group.

“What?” Chu Xi removed her earbuds.

Fu Bai: “A fan group! Your fan group! It’s called the ‘Brick Squad,’ with several hundred members now.”

Chu Xi: “………………”

She put her earbuds back in.

What female celebrity would have fans calling themselves “bricks”? Fu Bai was lying to her again.

Besides, how could she possibly have real fans? All her previous followers had been bought by Gu Mingjing’s team, just for appearances. Chu Xi never expected Fu Bai to adopt this tactic too, now purchasing followers for her.

If he was going to buy fans, at least pick a decent name. Chu Xi yawned, too tired to bother.

The car pulled up at the hotel entrance. Chu Xi still wore her evening gown from earlier, though now with a jacket over it. As she stepped out, the night breeze made her shiver and instinctively hug her arms.

Fu Bai fished their room cards from his bag—they’d checked in earlier that day and had their hair and makeup done in the hotel room. They headed toward the elevator to return to their rooms.

…

Assistant Gao appeared in the hotel lobby with the newly purchased phone for President Gu when he spotted a familiar figure in the distance.

That woman’s silhouette… didn’t it look remarkably like Miss Chu Xi?

Assistant Gao hesitated about whether to approach when his gaze fell on the man beside her. His steps faltered.

Late at night. Five-star hotel. A man and a woman together.

Assistant Gao suddenly sensed trouble. He stealthily trailed the pair, watching them enter the elevator before ducking into a corner like a thief.

As the elevator doors slowly closed, the couple turned around, allowing Assistant Gao to clearly see the woman’s face.

Short hair, red lips—a stark contrast to her previous image beside President Gu, but he’d recognize her anywhere.

Chu Xi, President Gu’s former mistress!

Since being scolded by Gu Mingjing last time, Assistant Gao had stopped following Chu Xi’s news. Nearing forty, he’d never paid much attention to the flashy entertainment industry anyway—his previous interest had solely been for President Gu’s sake. Now that the boss no longer cared, he hadn’t even known Chu Xi attended tonight’s Golden Feather Awards.

Recalling how Chu Xi and that man had been chatting intimately before entering the elevator, Assistant Gao’s mind raced.

It wasn’t uncommon for actresses to have sponsors—sometimes even male celebrities did too. Moving from one sponsor to another after a relationship ended wasn’t particularly scandalous.

Suddenly, things clicked into place for Assistant Gao. No wonder Miss Chu Xi had so decisively left President Gu after her contract expired. No wonder she’d refused all those designer bags and jewelry President Gu offered—she must have already secured her next arrangement.

Had she lined up this new sponsor while still with President Gu? Assistant Gao felt a surge of indignation, as if his boss had been made a cuckold. Was President Gu not handsome enough or wealthy enough? That ordinary-looking man couldn’t hold a candle to him.

This was outrageous!

So when Gu Mingjing received his new phone, he noticed his assistant seemed even more upset than he was.

“What is it? Go ahead,” Gu Mingjing said indifferently, lighting a cigarette.

He had initially wanted to call the company to have all of Chu Xi’s red carpet photos scrubbed clean from the internet. He had even considered storming the venue to drag her away, throw some clothes on her, and demand to know what she thought she was doing dressed like that. But then it suddenly hit him—Chu Xi was nothing more than an ex-lover, a fling that had already ended. Why should he care? Their relationship had been contractual, a mutual exchange of pleasure with no strings attached. He had no real feelings for her.

She was just a past fling. What did it matter if she wore a sexy dress? Even if she went to a hotel with someone else, it wouldn’t faze him.

Gu Mingjing repeated this to himself as he quietly smoked two cigarettes.

He wasn’t a frequent smoker, indulging only occasionally, and even less so in recent years. When he first got together with Chu Xi, she had coughed a couple of times after catching a whiff of tobacco on him, so he had refrained from smoking around her after that.

Assistant Gao hadn’t expected the CEO to immediately sense that something was weighing on him. Glancing at Gu Mingjing, he recounted what he had witnessed in the hotel lobby—though with a bit of embellishment. He mentioned seeing Miss Chu in the lobby, arm in arm with a man as they stepped into the elevator, chatting and laughing, clearly on their way to a room together.

By the time Assistant Gao finished, Gu Mingjing’s hand trembled slightly, causing ash to scatter onto his clothes.

——

In the hotel suite, Chu Xi removed her makeup, took a shower, and stepped out wrapped in a towel.

Fu Bai was in another suite and had just called to recommend the spa services at the Bvlgari Hotel, asking if she wanted to book one.

Chu Xi winced at the price when she checked, initially declining—until Fu Bai informed her that the Golden Feather Awards organizers covered all hotel expenses for attending artists. Only then did she agree.

The military training had slimmed her down considerably over the past few weeks, and while showering, she had noticed the small, firm muscles that had developed on her body.

She was flying back to City B tomorrow, then returning to the training camp the day after. A little relaxation tonight wouldn’t hurt.

Just as she stepped out of the bathroom, there was a knock at the door—hasty, unlike the refined service expected of a five-star hotel.

But Chu Xi didn’t think much of it, assuming it was the spa therapist. “Coming,” she called out, shuffling over in her slippers to open the door.

She greeted the door with a smile, but the moment she saw who stood outside, her expression froze, and she instinctively took a step back.

As soon as the door opened, Gu Mingjing’s eyes darted past her, scanning the room as if searching for someone else.

A hotel. A woman in a towel. A cold-faced man arriving late at night.

For some reason, Chu Xi couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being caught in an affair by her former sugar daddy.

The spa technician arrived at that moment, pushing a small cart and seeing the man and woman in a standoff at the door. “Is this the service Miss Chu requested?”

“No need,” Gu Mingjing said as he stepped inside, slamming the door shut with a bang.