Everyone in the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Flirty Diva [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 4

Such scandalous news always spreads the fastest. In no time, Chu Xi’s name was trending on Weibo.

Chu Xi was almost amused by the absurdity of the news.

So this is how imaginative the media has become—her good deed of helping an elderly man cross the street was twisted into something so vile in the eyes of those with ulterior motives.

Chu Xi opened the comments section, expecting the usual controlled praise from fans or hired commenters, but all she saw were insults like “White Lotus,” “homewrecker,” “slut,” and “disgusting.” In the past, entertainment news about her always had meticulously curated comments, suppressing any slander or abuse. But today, all the negativity came flooding out unchecked.

Chu Xi suddenly realized the truth.

Damn it!

She and Gu Mingjing had broken up, so the annual trending package and comment control he bought for her must have expired.

Chu Xi gritted her teeth.

Gu Mingjing was Gu Mingjing—CEO Gu’s efficiency was terrifying. They had only broken up yesterday afternoon, and by this morning, he had already withdrawn everything, not even leaving her a single hired commenter.

Trembling with anger at the comments, Chu Xi wished she could crawl through the internet and beat up everyone spreading the news and posting insults. Her entire acting career over the past two years had been meticulously managed. Even when she was cyberbullied for being too spoiled on a variety show, her top-tier PR team had handled it smoothly. Now, facing this scandal alone, she had no crisis management skills—the only solution she could think of was posting a clarification on Weibo.

Chu Xi logged into her official account, “Actress Chu Xi,” which was usually managed by her agent, Yao Yu. Thankfully, the account was still hers. Chu Xi rarely posted on this account herself—when she did, Yao Yu carefully selected and polished the images and captions, crafting an image of serene elegance. Now, with no one to vet her PR statement, Chu Xi sat alone on her hotel bed, typing furiously:

“Show some respect! I was helping an elderly man cross the street because he had trouble walking!”

After reviewing the text twice, she hit send.

Despite being falsely accused, she hadn’t cursed or lost her temper. Her straightforward clarification stated the facts without playing the victim or seeking attention—she just wanted to shut these malicious mouths.

After posting, Chu Xi took a deep breath and scrolled through her past Weibo posts.

This blunt, assertive clarification stood out starkly against the carefully curated, poetic, and peaceful posts Yao Yu had crafted for her.

Innocent White Flower Chu Xi, who never even raised her voice, dared to use an exclamation mark in a Weibo post?

Chu Xi didn’t care whether the style matched or not. She just hoped that after her clarification, the matter would finally settle down. She didn’t have long to live anyway—did she really have to carry this stain of slander into the grave six months later?

Her clarification post on Weibo quickly surpassed ten thousand comments.

Chu Xi steadied her emotions, hoping those people would stop their malicious assumptions and, at the very least, apologize. Then she reopened the comment section.

After just a glance, she was stunned.

[What era is this, still helping old men cross the street? Think we haven’t read elementary school essays before? Hahahaha, you take us for fools.]

[This old man looks pretty young, not like he can’t walk on his own.]

[That white lotus Chu Xi can only fool sugar daddies old enough to be her father with her fake innocence and coquettishness. Who else would sleep with her? No real wealthy man would ever look her way.]

[Honestly, I don’t think Chu Xi is that pretty. In the entertainment industry, her face is practically ugly.]

[Ugly +1]

[Ugly +10086]

……

Chu Xi hadn’t expected things to remain like this even after her clarification.

Most celebrities in the industry had two ways of dealing with such situations: either hire paid commenters to suppress the negativity or simply delete the malicious remarks and leave only the positive ones.

The paid commenters Gu Mingjing had arranged were gone now, and it was too late for her to hire new ones. Chu Xi stared at the endless stream of vitriol on the screen, reaching out to delete them.

But there were so many—how could she possibly delete them all?

Before, with the paid commenters keeping things under control, she hadn’t noticed. Only now did she realize that the number of genuine fans defending her was even fewer than the followers on her unfiltered, anonymous side account.

Chu Xi’s nose suddenly stung with unshed tears.

Why was it like this?

She had never done anything truly wicked in her life. The only bad thing she had done in her twenty-some years of existence was—for money—agreeing to be with Gu Mingjing.

During the days she was signing the contract, she couldn’t sleep at all. She kept dreaming of her father, her mother.

In her dreams, her father still wore his uniform, looking exactly as he had in her childhood memories—stern and imposing. When he saw the contract in her hands, he stormed over and slapped her. “How could our Chu family raise a daughter like you? Have you no shame?”

Her mother, tears in her eyes, gazed at her in disappointment. “How could you do this to your father?”

Chu Xi would always wake up from this nightmare in a cold sweat, her pillow soaked with tears. She wanted to call her agency immediately, call Gu Mingjing—she wouldn’t sign the contract, she wouldn’t be his mistress. But when she unlocked her phone, the first thing she saw was notification after notification—hospital bills, demanding payment.

In the end, she still signed.

Yet because of that contract, everyone assumed she had a sugar daddy. Everyone despised her coquettish, camera-friendly persona. No one liked her. Not even Gu Mingjing, the man she had been with for two years, who in the end made sure she knew her place—no delusions allowed.

And now, even Heaven seemed to despise her, leaving her only six months to live.

Six months, one hundred and eighty days.

Chu Xi paused while deleting hate comments.

Only six months left. Why? Why should she continue to endure these insults and slanders silently? Keyboard warriors could tear her apart with just a few taps of their fingers. As a public figure, she wasn’t supposed to retaliate—she had to bear the endless waves of mudslinging.

But Chu Xi didn’t want to swallow her anger and take it to the grave. Now that she feared nothing, she suddenly moved her fingers, determined to vent her frustration.

Soon, those who had left malicious comments received notifications.

Weibo user “Actress Chu Xi” has replied to your comment.

[What era is this, still helping an old man cross the street? Think we’re idiots who’ve never seen elementary school essays? Hahahahaha.]

Actress Chu Xi: [No matter the era, helping the elderly cross the street is a virtue of our Chinese nation. Though I suppose you lack such virtues.]

[This old man looks pretty young, hardly the age where he can’t walk. Chu Xi, do you call him “daddy” every night?]

Actress Chu Xi: [The photo doesn’t show whether the old man can walk, but it’s clear that someone who spews such filth probably never had a father.]

[The fake innocence and coquettish tricks of the “White Lotus Chu” can only fool sugar daddies old enough to be her father. Who else would sleep with her? No real wealthy person would ever look her way.]

Actress Chu Xi: [Whether real wealthy people would look my way is none of your business, but I’m certain they wouldn’t spare you a glance.]

[Honestly, I don’t think Chu Xi is that good-looking. Her face is actually kind of ugly.]

Actress Chu Xi: [I saw the selfies you posted on Weibo. With that pig-like face of yours, how dare you call me ugly? Are you even qualified?]

…

Under that Weibo post, user “Actress Chu Xi” fired back one reply after another.

Those waiting to see Chu Xi play the victim with another PR stunt were caught off guard.

Some refused to believe it—since when did celebrities personally clap back at anti-fans? They assumed it must be a fake account. But upon checking, the user had a verified red V badge and 23 million followers.

What was going on?!

—

After finishing off the top hate comments, Chu Xi put down her phone, feeling an unprecedented sense of relief.

Let them say whatever they wanted. For the first time, she didn’t have to hide behind layers of pretense, fake smiles, or masks. She could just be herself, say what she wanted, and fear nothing.

Several media outlets called, but Chu Xi rejected every one. Ignoring her phone, she packed her luggage, checked out, and took a two-hour taxi ride to a small town on the outskirts of City B, somewhere resembling a rural-urban fringe.

The driver hadn’t expected such a long trip. As the car wound through the narrow roads of the town, his initial impatience faded when the girl in the backseat—pretty as a TV star—leaned forward to guide him. Suppressing his annoyance, he finally stopped in front of a shabby, old single-story house.

The door was open, and the sound of a TV commercial drifted out. Chu Xi wheeled her suitcase to the entrance and smiled into the room. “Grandma.”

The elderly woman watching TV inside turned her head. At the sight of the figure in the doorway, her face lit up with joy. “Nian Nian, you’re back!”

Chu Xi’s name was a homophone for “New Year’s Eve,” which signifies the arrival of the new year, so her childhood nickname was Nian Nian (meaning “year after year”). Hearing her nickname called out by the elderly woman, Chu Xi felt another pang in her heart. She forced a smile to hide her emotions, then brought her suitcase inside and hurried over to sit beside the old woman. She hugged her affectionately, breathing in the familiar scent. “Grandma.”

“You’re always so busy with work. What brings you back to see me?” The old woman smiled as she patted Chu Xi’s head with her right hand. On her left forearm were two pressure bands—one red, one blue—tied after dialysis.

She glanced toward the door again. “Where’s Xiao Gu? Why didn’t he come back with you this time? You two have been together for so long, and your relationship seems fine. Why haven’t you registered your marriage yet? Grandma’s getting impatient.”

“Nian Nian’s back.” Just then, a middle-aged woman in her forties emerged from the kitchen carrying a dish. She set it on the dining table and smiled at Chu Xi. “You didn’t even give us a heads-up. Luckily, I made extra rice today—enough for everyone.”

“Auntie Chen.” Chu Xi greeted her warmly.

Auntie Chen wiped her hands on her apron. “Your grandma just came back from dialysis. We were just having lunch.”

Chu Xi’s heart ached as she looked at the dialysis access points on her grandmother’s arm.

Grandma Chu held her granddaughter’s hand and pressed on. “How are things between you and Xiao Gu lately? You’ve been saying you’d bring him to meet me for ages. Why hasn’t it happened yet?”

Chu Xi rested her head on her grandma’s shoulder, answering as she always did. “He’s busy.”

Grandma Chu sighed. “How can he be so busy? Ask him what’s more important—making money or our Nian Nian?”

“Grandma…” Chu Xi buried her face, hiding her expression.

Grandma Chu patted her head, mistaking her granddaughter’s reaction for shyness and a secret smile.

But Chu Xi kept her face down so her grandmother wouldn’t see her reddened eyes.

Grandma Chu suffered from chronic kidney failure. For years, she had managed with medication, but two years ago, her condition suddenly worsened, landing her in the hospital. The doctors said her kidney failure had triggered high blood pressure, leading to a stroke. She needed surgery, and with her kidney function too weak to sustain her metabolism, she would require ongoing dialysis.

Chu Xi had always relied on her grandmother as her sole family. Seeing the frail old woman lying in the ICU filled her with despair and helplessness.

The cost of the stroke surgery was steep, but even more daunting was the endless expense of dialysis—each session necessary to prolong her life.

At the time, Chu Xi had only been in the entertainment industry for about a year. The agency that had promised she could earn enough to support her family was barely surviving itself. She had made no splash in the industry, not landing a single gig.

Chu Xi borrowed and borrowed, yet she still couldn’t scrape together enough for her grandmother’s surgery. She had already lost hope when, out of nowhere, someone from the talent agency came running to tell her she was in luck—a big shot had taken a liking to her and wanted her to be his girlfriend.

It wasn’t until after reading the contract that Chu Xi realized the term “girlfriend” was just a euphemism. For the first time, she learned that even being a girlfriend required signing a contract.

The hospital issued a critical condition notice for her grandmother.

Chu Xi signed the contract.

After the surgery, her grandmother woke up and asked how much the treatment had cost and where she had gotten the money. “Don’t waste it on me,” her grandmother insisted. “Just let me go.”

With a smile, Chu Xi showed her grandmother a photo of Gu Mingjing by her bedside. “This is my boyfriend,” she said. “The treatment didn’t cost much, and whatever extra I needed, I borrowed from him. Just focus on getting better. Once we’re home, I’ll hire a caregiver to look after you. I’ll pay him back once I start earning money.”

Grandma Chu examined the photo.

It was a picture of her granddaughter and her “boyfriend.” The young, handsome man wasn’t looking at the camera, while her granddaughter flashed a peace sign at the lens. The two looked perfectly matched in the frame.

“Why isn’t he looking at the camera?” Grandma Chu asked.

“He doesn’t like taking photos. He always dodges whenever I try to snap one,” Chu Xi replied with a sweet smile, like a girl deeply in love.

In truth, she had taken the photo secretly when Gu Mingjing wasn’t paying attention—just so she could show her grandmother something convincing.

Grandma Chu nodded. “I see. When will you bring him to meet me?”

Chu Xi tucked her phone away and hugged her grandmother’s arm. “He’s really busy with work. Once he has time, I’ll bring your future grandson-in-law to see you, okay?”

But she would end up breaking that promise. Grandma would never meet the “Xiao Gu” she had talked about for two years.

Chu Xi sighed, feeling exhausted.

She had tried—begged Gu Mingjing to visit her grandmother just once, to play along for the sake of her dying wish, for the two years she had spent by his side.

Gu Mingjing told her not to hope for things she didn’t deserve.