I Swear I Don’t Want to Be Everyone’s Favorite - Chapter 3.2

Yu Qing was skeptical of the assistant director’s claim, but with Yu Jingtang as a guaranteed ratings draw, signing on as a regular guest for a season wasn’t a bad deal. Jiang Luoyue had no objections to the outcome, but she didn’t feel much joy either,

In her past life, the regular guests of Hate Me had always been fixed, never changing. The sudden shift put her on high alert.

Even as she boarded the flight to the filming location for the first episode of Hate Me, Jiang Luoyue kept dozing off, her eyes bleary with tears.

Yu Qing grew concerned. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“I just didn’t sleep well last night,” Jiang Luoyue answered honestly. Seeing that Yu Qing didn’t press further, she pulled down her eye mask and exhaled in relief.

After all, anyone who spent a whole night binge watching revenge dramas with lines like, “She’s your birth mother, how could you do this?!” wouldn’t have gotten much quality sleep.

In her past life, Jiang Luoyue had only met the four members of Hate Me once. To prepare for the unexpected, she had spent the past few days frantically catching up on their most notable works.

Last night, it happened to be the turn of Fu Yunqing, the Hong Kong socialite from a wealthy family, often teased by the media with remarks like, “Her debut was just an accident inheriting the family business is her real job.”

Two years ago, Fu Yunqing had agreed to a friend’s request and starred in a shoddily produced short drama.

The series was a chaotic mix of eye-gouging, kidney-swapping, and bone marrow-donating insanity, telling the story of how the two deranged leads, in their obsessive entanglement with each other, ended up killing everyone around them before finally having an epiphany and driving each other off a cliff to seal their fate.

Fu Yunqing played the role of the haughty, malicious female antagonist, who tormented everyone from the leads to random passersby with schemes, traps, and verbal abuse. Thanks to the show’s absurdity, the leads’ painfully bad acting, and the fact that her character was equally cruel to all, paired with her striking beauty Fu Yunqing effortlessly stood out.

Soon, she went viral online, amassing a devoted following. But what should have been a fleeting burst of fame skyrocketed even further when someone dug up her background as the heiress of the Fu family.

In her past life, after Hate Me aired, Fu Yunqing’s popularity reached its peak. Yet, shortly after the show ended, she held a press conference and publicly announced her retirement from the industry, citing, “The entertainment world isn’t as interesting as I imagined.”

That had been Jiang Luoyue’s only encounter with Fu Yunqing. She had always been curious about what exactly the other woman meant by “interesting,” but she never got the chance to ask.

Because not long after her retirement, Fu Yunqing died in a racing accident. At the Fu family’s request, all her works were forcibly removed and taken offline, becoming rare and highly sought-after collector’s items.

When she opened her eyes again, the plane was about to land. In the car, Yu Qing hurriedly briefed Jiang Luoyue about Xiang Fan and Yu Jingtang, but what she said didn’t differ much from what Jiang Luoyue already knew.

Xiang Fan rarely made public appearances. Aside from movie premieres, she never attended any events. Even the most prestigious award ceremonies were handled by her assistant.

But as a director, she couldn’t avoid the constant comings and goings of film crews. Despite her efforts to maintain an air of mystery, incidents like “Xiang Fan publicly berating an actor for their third-rate acting, delaying production” occasionally leaked, making her reputation fluctuate between praise and criticism.

Compared to Xiang Fan, Yu Jingtang’s public presence was even more limited. After her debut, she spent three hundred days a year at home composing, with the remaining two months dedicated to gathering inspiration. Her appearances in the public eye were few and far between.

After finishing, Yu Qing grew even less confident. “I wonder if the other guests will be easy to get along with.”

“If they start arguing, it’s best not to get involved. But you can’t stay completely silent either if you clash with Yu Jingtang, her fans will tear into you.”

Jiang Luoyue smiled gently. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry.”

Yu Qing’s concerns weren’t unfounded. In Hate Me, the cast often bickered over minor conflicts, only to quickly reconcile, all thanks to the final guest, Ning Fuguang.

Ning Fuguang hailed from the Ning family of Jiangcheng, a dynasty built on pharmaceuticals. She studied medicine, and during her time abroad, she contributed to the research of several groundbreaking drugs, driving the Ning family’s profits to unprecedented heights. At twenty-four, after her father’s passing, she solidified her position as the head of the Ning empire.

Frankly, Hate Me wasn’t even worthy of being a footnote in Ning Fuguang’s dazzlingly complex resume.

And yet, Ning Fuguang was the show’s pivotal core. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say the entire program was tailor-made for her after all, she was the only one who had a feud with every other guest.

In one interview, when asked about recent films she’d watched, Ning Fuguang casually mentioned Fu Yunqing, laughing as she remarked that the actress’s acting was so wooden, her fake crying less convincing than her niece’s pretend tears.

The interviewer broke into a cold sweat, scrambling to shift the topic by asking for movie recommendations. Ning Fuguang merely arched a brow and enthusiastically suggested Xiang Fan’s latest work.

When pressed for her reasoning, she sighed that films capable of lulling her into a two-hour nap were rare these days.

After all, she could force herself to endure ten minutes of a movie with a 1.9 rating across all platforms, but something as instantly sleep-inducing as Xiang Fan’s opening shot was a first.

The internet erupted, and the interviewer quit journalism after that gig. According to her, selling pancakes outside the Ning Group’s headquarters was more lucrative and safer than being a reporter.

As for Yu Jingtang, Ning Fuguang didn’t offer any grand critiques, merely remarking offhandedly, “People who love telling bad jokes never seem to realize their humor isn’t just unrealistic it’s also painfully dull.”

Coincidentally, aside from music, Yu Jingtang’s greatest passion in life was telling terrible jokes.

Her fans took it personally, launching a furious crusade. By the time the dust settled, even if there had been no grudge before, there certainly was one now.

These past grievances were dredged up the moment Hate Me premiered. Audiences eagerly anticipated Ning Fuguang locking horns with everyone, only to be disappointed when, in the very first episode, she calmly announced she’d already reconciled with the other three, it had all been a misunderstanding.

No one knew the truth, but with no rebuttals from the parties involved, viewers had no choice but to reluctantly accept it.

Fortunately, throughout the rest of the season, Ning Fuguang proved poised and emotionally stable, shattering public prejudices and winning over countless fans.

On the show, she was always rational and composed, effortlessly navigating even the most tangled relationships and conflicts.

Jiang Luoyue had taken quite a liking to her.

The car arrived at the hotel rented by the production team. The moment they stepped out, Yu Qing gasped after just a few paces. “Is that Yu Jingtang?”

“And the person next to her… is that really Xiang Fan? Who’s the other one?”

“Fu Yunqing?!”

Jiang Luoyue looked up and saw Yu Jingtang standing in the shade not far away, dressed in all black. Clutching her phone, Yu seemed hesitant to speak and out of place amidst the chaos.

In front of Yu Jingtang, a crowd had gathered, trying to mediate between two women locked in a heated argument. A pile of filming equipment lay scattered nearby, a flash of light flickering past.

Fu Yunqing’s fiery red curls bounced as her voice carried clearly even from a distance: “If you look down on me so much, why bother sharing a variety show with me?”

Xiang Fan, clad in full protective gear, only became recognizable to Jiang Luoyue after removing her mask. She scoffed, “If it weren’t for the invitation, do you think I’d ever be in the same place as you?”

Jiang Luoyue didn’t fully grasp the context, but the tension in the air was unmistakable.

“Sister Yu,” she instinctively turned to Yu Qing for guidance, only to find her already dialing Yun Yue’s number, demanding an escalation in PR and media hype.

Just as Jiang Luoyue was about to urge Yu Qing to calm down, a luxury car pulled up in the distance, executing a stylish drift before parking outside the hotel.

The door swung open, and Ning Fuguang stepped out in a shimmering pearl-white gown, rings adorning her ears, neck, and fingers. Compared to Xiang Fan, who had mistaken a travel show for a survival challenge and dressed accordingly, Ning looked as if she were ready for a high-society gala, exuding effortless elegance.

Jiang Luoyue’s eyes brightened with curiosity. She wondered how Ning Fuguang would handle the group’s dynamics off-camera.

Would she mediate gently as she did during livestreams? Or patiently smooth things over? Or perhaps

Before she could consider more possibilities, Ning Fuguang glanced at her wristwatch and flashed a bold smile. “Waiting for me? Thanks for the warm welcome, but I don’t think I’m late.”

Fu Yunqing immediately took several steps back as if avoiding a plague. “What does this have to do with you? Stop flattering yourself.”

“If you weren’t waiting for me, why is everyone gathered here? Sunbathing?” Ning Fuguang tilted her chin slightly, then turned her attention to Yu Jingtang nearby. “Look, poor Miss Yu is practically melting.”

Yu Jingtang stiffened. “I’m not melting.”

“Oh.” Ning Fuguang smiled sweetly. “Right, you’re just wearing all black. I thought maybe after your recent Thai-inspired album, you’d also gotten a tan under that scorching sun. My mistake, sorry.”

Her apology dripped with insincerity, her tone breezy and unrepentant.

Yu Jingtang fell silent, her assistant casting a sympathetic glance, as if their artist were on the verge of shattering.

Ning Fuguang turned away, seemingly satisfied with her verbal jabs, as if this “greeting” had served its purpose.

Xiang Fan, relieved yet irritated to have been spared, suddenly realized Ning was walking straight toward her with deliberate, unapologetic force, she bumped into Xiang’s shoulder

“Isn’t this Guide Xiang?” Before Xiang Fan could react, Ning Fuguang covered her lips in mock surprise. “Dressed the same color as the hedges, I mistook you for a tree. Didn’t see you there my bad.”

Her words were an apology, but her smirk was pure provocation. Xiang Fan’s already frayed patience snapped. “Ning! Fu! Guang!”

Just as one conflict simmered, another flared up. The director stole a glance at the rising viewer count on the screen, torn between delight and despair. As he wiped sweat from his brow, his assistant suddenly brightened. “Miss Jiang? Over here!”

Fu Yunqing looked puzzled and turned to ask the staff beside him. Xiang Fan had heard Jiang Luoyue’s name before but held no favorable impression. Yu Jingtang seemed afraid to meet anyone’s gaze, after a brief glance, he quickly averted his eyes.

In the end, the only one who truly fixed Jiang Luoyue with a deep, steady gaze was Ning Fuguang.

The mockery on her face faded, her brows furrowing slightly as if regretting her earlier actions. But soon, only a faint smile remained on that beautiful face, exuding an air of detachment.

This version of her, in fact, resembled the Ning Fuguang from Jiang Luoyue’s memories even more.

This was the first time in two lifetimes that Jiang Luoyue had formally met her like this.

She had still harbored some shock and unease over her “idol’s collapse,” but seeing that Ning Fuguang seemed even more regretful about her earlier behavior than she was, Jiang Luoyue relaxed instead. She took the initiative to extend her hand:

“Miss Ning, a pleasure to meet you.”