My Nemesis and My Wife - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: She’s Malignant, Isn’t She?

“Pass it on: Qin Lan insulted Jiang Yan’s entire family as beggars and forced Jiang Yan to eat her leftovers.”

“That damn Jiang Yan, she knows exactly how to gross me out.”

It was early March, the second semester of junior year.

The breathtakingly beautiful woman lay like a corpse in a dormitory room that still smelled faintly of newness.

Many students at this school were rarely actually on campus; for instance, she had just finished a series of promotional events last night and suddenly felt like staying at school for a bit.

She had several close friends: Yu Jintang, who studied directing; Yang Xingji, who studied acting but was set on the idol girl group path; Song Man, a ballroom dancer specializing in Rumba; and Yun Chui, who also danced Rumba. The five of them got along famously. All five were well-known “second-generation” elites in Kyoto whose parents were also close, so they had been sworn sisters since childhood.

Qin Lan continued to lie like a corpse on the bed, waiting for her new phone to arrive.

That morning, on a whim, she went to an 8:00 AM class. On the way, she heard her phone say it wanted to go for a swim in the artificial lake, and in a moment of inattention, she actually agreed. Qin Lan hated trouble; the thought of migrating and logging into various accounts on a new phone irritated her.

She used her backup phone to call her assistant, Xiao Qing, telling her to buy a new one. Consequently, she enjoyed two hours of peace until “The Mountain Lilies Bloom Red and Bright” echoed through the empty dorm.

“Hello? Sister Bai,” Qin Lan answered the phone half-dead, her red lips parting lazily. “The phone went for a dip. I’m still alive.”

Bai Ai: “The phone is quite unlucky following you. You probably haven’t seen the hot search; the new ‘Four Small Flower Dan’ have been selected. Congratulations.”

Qin Lan tutted and laughed wantonly and flippantly: “Who are the others?”

“One is from your Northern Media University, and the other two are from Southern Film Academy.”

“Oh, who are they?” Qin Lan already had an idea. She turned on the speakerphone and lowered her head to log into her Weibo burner account.

“Wei Lin and Xu Yan from Southern Film, and Jiang Yan from your school.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of bad luck then.”

Qin Lan exited the trending topic and browsed the public square. Before long, she scrolled to herself. Delighted, she clicked on the pictures and zoomed in on each one, taking screenshots from various angles. After admiring herself for a while, she triumphantly scrolled to the comment section.

[Dream of Nine Hundred Million Girls]: Too aggressive. Not as gentle and tranquil as our Yanyan.

Qin Lan’s eyes gradually widened.

Secret Crush on the Village Blonde: Respect differences in aesthetics; some people just find this more beautiful. (Attached: A picture of Qin Lan looking angry from a strange angle).

momo: Looking forward to actress Jiang Yan’s new movie “Meteor” Image: Jiang Yan’s poster.

Yanyan Hug Me: Just a passerby. Though both have high-glamour features, I prefer Jiang Yan.

No Save for Final Failures: Just a passerby, at least Jiang Yan’s acting is stronger than Qin Lan’s.

Director Wang of the Mental Hospital: Pointed it out: can Qin Lan still not act in emotional scenes even now?

A large wave of fierce Qin fans quickly surged into the comments, but Qin Lan could no longer bear to read. Seething with rage, she jumped up to check her contacts, only to find that this phone only had Dad, Mom, and Sister Bai. There was also the newly added assistant, Xiao Qing, so she could find her after buying the phone.

“AAAAAAAAHHH!” Qin Lan shrieked. She desperately needed someone to vent to. With nowhere to release her fury, she grabbed her bag, dashed out of the dormitory, and rushed toward the practice rooms.

“I heard Qin Lan is back at school; I really want to see her.

She went to the classroom, but I missed her. I chased after her, searching the supermarket and the cafeteria. But the Qin family is top-tier in the Kyoto circle; Qin Lan wouldn’t go to those places.

What a pity. I specially did a beautiful hairstyle today, but it’s all been messed up by the wind.”

In practice room A109, a girl could be seen through the glass door practicing Rumba.

A sliding step into the center, sunlight pouring down it was a sight to behold.

Song Man raised her hand, her eyes following her fingertips. She turned, changed steps, and moved with slow precision.

A hand appeared on the window frame. At the very moment Song Man’s movement was about to end, this hand caught her, led her in, and rested on the back of Song Man’s neck.

They separated with intense vigor, fingertips held tight, then merged again, swaying slowly with the rhythm.

Yun Chui danced the male lead role, her movements possessing strength within softness, reserved yet passionate. Song Man was led in her palm, held in the curve of her arm, as the two looked forward together. Their positions shifted constantly, skirt hems flying; they were light as swallows, spinning elegantly.

Song Man looked up and saw Yun Chui smiling at her.

She always felt Yun Chui’s eyes were like the azure sea—quiet and beautiful. Only for her would a small storm occasionally stir, spreading a mysterious vortex from within.

Song Man spun three times quickly. Yun Chui caught her. Song Man stood on her tiptoes, her chin lightly brushing against Yun Chui’s cheek.

“Why do I feel like I can never do this move right?” Song Man stared at the giant dance mirror in confusion, feeling that the angle of her hip twist was a bit strange. She stopped the music and practiced on her own for a long time until Yun Chui unscrewed a thermos: “A-Man.”

“What?” Song Man focused intently on her waist in the mirror.

“You’re going to throw your waist out. Have some water and rest.” Yun Chui handed the water over, her fingers as beautiful as carved jade bamboo.

Song Man took the cup unceremoniously and gulped down several mouthfuls of the red date health tea Yun Chui had prepared, leaning against the side to rest. Just then, the door slammed open. Qin Lan marched in aggressively to the sound of the bell ending class, her curls bouncing on her shoulders: “Thank heavens you’re both here!”

“What’s wrong?” Song Man asked, bewildered. Yun Chui glanced at Qin Lan and lowered her head to fiddle with her phone.

“Did you see the hot search! Okay, I know you were practicing so you didn’t, but the ‘Four Small Flower Dan’ are out. Wei Lin and Xu Yan from Southern Film, me, and guess who the last one is? It’s that annoying Jiang Yan!”

Yun Chui’s fingers paused, and she began to type: But she doesn’t seem to welcome you right now.

She thought for a moment and deleted the sentence.

At the top of the chat interface was the name “Jiang Yan.” There was a message from 8:05 AM: I heard Qin Lan went to class.

8:06 AM Jiang Yan: I’m going to school now.

9:55 AM Jiang Yan: I’m late, class is already over.

Yun Chui comforted her: She probably just went back to the dorm. Run faster, maybe you’ll still run into her.

10:10 AM Jiang Yan: Ran all the way, didn’t meet her. I’m going back to the dorm to rest.

11:00 AM Yun Chui: Qin Lan is at the practice room, A109.

Jiang Yan: Give me ten minutes, say a few more words to her.

Yun Chui: Half an hour is enough; she looks like she’s staying for a while.

Jiang Yan, who had spent the whole morning running around without catching a single strand of hair belonging to anyone surnamed Qin, was also lying like a corpse on her bed in dejection. The moment she received Yun Chui’s message, she sat up abruptly and banged her head.

“It’s fine. I have a lot of hair; it won’t show,” Jiang Yan comforted herself. She jumped off the bed to plug in her hair straightener, then fished out a camisole, stripped off her clothes, and hopped on one leg to change into a bodycon skirt.

Dr. Martens on, perfume sprayed. Just as the straightener heated up, she began to redo her hair. The previous style had been ruined by the wind.

Ten minutes later, the exquisite and charming “vixen” Jiang Yan walked out of the dormitory building which was completely at odds with her persona and headed toward Qin Lan in a showy manner.

Qin Lan, completely unaware of this, was still frantically complaining about her fated enemy, Jiang Yan.

In the beginning, she and Jiang Yan didn’t know each other at all—unlike Song Man and Yun Chui, whom she had mixed with since childhood through their parents. Qin Lan learned Jiang Yan’s name during freshman military training. The five of them had performed a street dance during a break that blew the audience away, so people often compared Jiang Yan to them.

For example: “Pity I fell in love with Jiang Yan from Acting Class 5 first, but this girl named Qin is also really good-looking; both are high-glamour types.” “Her nose is a bit higher than Jiang Yan’s. I love this look, but Jiang Yan still feels more like ‘girlfriend material’.”

“I like that freshman Yu Jintang. She looks so sweet, but when she lifts her hair, there’s a row of ear studs; I love that contrast.” “Jiang Yan and Yun Chui actually have similar temperaments; both are on the gentler side.” “Is the one who can dance Rumba called Song Man? She’s like a little swan, so haughty.” “Yang Xingji is also beautiful, such a high-energy look.”

“Jiang Yan fits the public taste better; she feels more approachable. Those five over there look like rich kids; I don’t even dare to ask for a phone number.”

People were always starting threads on the school forum, and the most discussed topic was which of the two top “high-glamour” beauties of Northern Media University was superior. Back then, Qin Lan wasn’t on guard—until her sophomore year, when a role was snatched from her.

The director had a change of heart at the last minute and used Jiang Yan.

Bai Ai, who had been a gold-medal manager at Qin Studios for years, went to demand an explanation. The director dodged for a while before finally confessing that Jiang Yan hadn’t actually come to the audition. The one who contacted him was Jiang Yan’s manager, Wang Zihan; Jiang Yan was a person “placed” by the investors.

Bai Ai had never heard of Jiang Yan, but she knew Wang Zihan—capable, and had managed a movie queen. She investigated further: Jiang Yan’s family background was ordinary; there were no investors behind her.

Bai Ai was well-versed in industry trends and naturally believed Jiang Yan’s role hadn’t been obtained through proper channels, harboring great disdain for the actions of Jiang Yan and her manager. Consequently, the next day, she retaliated by cutting two of Jiang Yan’s endorsements.

As it turned out, that role made Jiang Yan slightly famous. However, Qin Lan’s fans discovered the role was originally supposed to be their “sister’s,” and they were instantly enraged. Jiang Yan knew how to manage her image, and her fanbase grew vigorously; they actually held their ground against the fans of the already famous Qin Lan. Thus, the feud between the two houses was established.

Since her debut, Qin Lan had attracted countless fans; she had many loyalists but also many anti-fans. The anti-fan camp even claimed to be the strongest army in the entertainment industry, primarily attacking Qin Lan’s acting. It wasn’t that she lacked talent, but she truly lacked emotional experience. Every mystery and period drama she starred in was a hit, but she suffered a professional “Waterloo” in the modern romance genre.

After Jiang Yan’s fans joined in, the number of Qin Lan’s anti-fans even surpassed her loyalists. They seized on her shortcoming and publicized it widely, questioning if she was a heartless “acting machine.”

“How can film and television bypass romance? Does someone plan to never act in a love story for their whole life?”

Due to the strong guidance of Jiang Yan’s fans, negative topics about Qin Lan stayed on the hot search for a long time. From then on, whenever one of them had a new drama pending, Qin Lan would be dragged out for cyberbullying. Over time, Qin Lan became synonymous with a “cold machine,” and passersby thought her acting was poor. Qin Lan was thus rated as having the worst acting but the highest “traffic” among the Four Small Flower Dan.

Qin Lan’s anger subsided when she heard Bai Ai had pulled two of Jiang Yan’s endorsements. She even comforted Bai Ai, saying they had never even met, and although this person was annoying, they would just mind their own business from now on.

Fate mocked her. From the moment she said those words, she began to run into Jiang Yan frequently.

Sometimes it was at a brand host’s venue, sometimes at an audition set, but most often it was on campus she could always see Jiang Yan appearing around her.

Bai Ai comforted her: “Maybe you shouldn’t go to school, to avoid getting upset seeing her.”

Qin Lan shouted, her beautiful eyes widening: “I refuse to believe in such bad luck!”

She insisted on going, going every day, and thus ran into Jiang Yan every day.

Qin Lan gritted her teeth and persisted. Jiang Yan also gritted her teeth and attended 8:00 AM classes every day.

Sometimes, if Qin Lan hadn’t seen Jiang Yan for half a day, she felt quite curious and would look for her in the crowd, only to suddenly lock eyes with Jiang Yan.

She never lowered her head, always staring back proudly. Being stared at like this, Jiang Yan remained as calm as a chrysanthemum, her refined figure swaying gently in Qin Lan’s sight.

Until one day, she accidentally crossed paths with Jiang Yan in a stairwell. The usually wide stairs suddenly felt very narrow. She felt she couldn’t pass but didn’t want to give way why should she give way first? Qin Lan’s stubborn streak flared up, and she climbed straight up.

As it happened, that annoying person blocked her way, and Jiang Yan wouldn’t give way either.

“Move,” Qin Lan said crossly, too proud to even budge an inch.

The other woman froze, and a gentle, pleasant voice sounded from above: “Student Qin, I think we have some misunderstandings…”

Qin Lan felt very frustrated; she was standing lower and couldn’t look down on Jiang Yan, nor could she even look at her at eye level. Unwilling to look up, she tilted her head slightly, her expression showing a trace of mockery: “What misunderstanding could there be? Say it then.”

Jiang Yan gave a shy smile: “Actually, I don’t care about that role. I…”

Qin Lan was furious if you don’t care, why snatch it? She threw out a “whatever” and left, squeezing past Jiang Yan’s shoulder to go upstairs. Jiang Yan only heard the crisp clicking of heels on the ground; she reached out, looking a bit lost: “Qin…”

She didn’t even catch a shadow.

That day at noon, Yang Xingji said she wanted to adapt to future crew life early and insisted on dragging her to the cafeteria for a lunch box. The two of them stood in line for a long time to get the last bit of Pineapple Sweet and Sour Pork. Just as she spoke, her voice overlapped with another: “Another portion of Pineapple Sweet and Sour Pork.”

The ladles of the two cafeteria aunties clattered together.

She looked up; there was a row of people between her and Jiang Yan, but the other woman was fixated on her Pineapple Sweet and Sour Pork and wouldn’t let go.

Qin Lan was furious: “Why are you everywhere!”

Jiang Yan smiled gently on the surface, but in reality, she intended to tease her: “What can be done? It seems I said it a bit earlier.”

“Qin Lan, Qin Lan,” Yang Xingji pulled at her.

Qin Lan was enraged by this behavior, and her temper flared even more upon hearing her speak: “You like snatching things, don’t you—”

“Qin Lan, Qin Lan,” Yang Xingji kept dragging her.

Qin Lan shoved her elbow back crossly: “What are you calling me for? Can’t you see I’m in an argument?”

“No, just take a look!” Yang Xingji forcibly turned her head straight: “Look!”

Qin Lan was forced to turn toward the cafeteria counter.

Her serving auntie and Jiang Yan’s serving auntie had started a fight.

Qin Lan’s auntie roared: “You like snatching food so much? Have you never seen food in your life?!”

Jiang Yan’s auntie bellowed: “Snatch, snatch, snatch! You snatched my food last time too!”

“Give back your food? I’m telling you, this is public food!”

“First come, first served! My student called for the food earlier than your student!”

“I’m telling you, I’ve been annoyed with you for a long time!”

“You old hag, you think you’re so great?”

The two aunties tore into each other. When they were finally separated, Qin Lan’s auntie tremblingly held up the rice ladle, which contained that last scoop of golden Pineapple Sweet and Sour Pork: “To get the lunch box… choose the right auntie.”

Qin Lan was dumbfounded; Jiang Yan parted her red lips.

Qin Lan turned her head and rolled her eyes again. See? Jiang Yan was always such a “fake.”

Jiang Yan smiled at Qin Lan and mouthed: I’ll let you have this one.

“It was mine to begin with!” Qin Lan walked away in a fit of rage, without taking the food or paying. Her auntie shouted anxiously: “Girl! Girl! Don’t you want the food?”

Qin Lan roared: “You’re the one who wants food! Your whole family wants food!” (Note: “Wanting food” also means begging for food).

Yang Xingji watched with great interest. She hurriedly fumbled in her bag for her meal card. Behind her, five, six, seven, eight seniors and juniors had already crowded in to pay for Qin Lan, but a card flew through the air and hit the machine before anyone else.

Beep Payment complete.

The auntie picked up the meal card, turned it over, and read the name: “Jiang Yan? Who is Jiang Yan?”

Jiang Yan herself walked over, smiling as she took the card and the food Qin Lan had abandoned: “I’ll just eat this portion.”

The crowd: “Pass it on: Jiang Yan is eating the food Qin Lan didn’t want.” “Pass it on: Jiang Yan is eating Qin Lan’s leftovers.” “Pass it on: Qin Lan threw her leftovers to Jiang Yan.” “Pass it on: Qin Lan forced Jiang Yan to eat her leftovers.” “Pass it on: Qin Lan insulted Jiang Yan’s entire family as beggars and forced Jiang Yan to eat her leftovers.”

Bai Ai numbly took down the hot search. “This is the most absurd hot search you two have ever been on.”

“You’ll see even more absurd ones in the future.” Qin Lan lay like a corpse on the sofa, her messy curls covering one eye. “I believe in bad luck now; it really is this weird. Jiang Yan is definitely my fated arch-enemy.”

Bai Ai began to consider metaphysical options: “Should I hire someone to look at your horoscope? Do an exorcism or something.”

“Go ahead, find a master,” Qin Lan said. “I feel like I’ve been ensnared by a malignant aura.”

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