She Got Revenge on Her Ex-Girlfriend Through a Kiss Scene - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

20:00 Beijing Time

The official Weibo account for @MovieEchoes took the lead:

【She is Zhou Yin. @LouNingyu special appearance in #MovieEchoes#】

Attached image: A silhouette of Lou Ningyu. The caption consisted of only two words: “Coming.”

Ten seconds later, @LouNingyu reposted:

“Zhou Yin. I’m here. @MovieEchoes”

The internet exploded.

#LouNingyuDowngrades# rocketed to the top of the trending list at light speed, followed by a deep red “EXPLOSIVE” tag.

The trending list was like a lake after a massive boulder had been dropped in, ripples spreading violently:

#LouNingyuDowngrades# (Explosive)

#LouNingyuXiJishengCollaboration# (Hot)

#EchoesDualFemaleLeads# (New)

#TwoQueensBrokenIce# (Hot)

#CenturyReconciliation# (New)

The real-time Weibo feeds were flooded with raw emotion:

@JadeCarvedPerfection: “The studio is dead! Making Ningyu play second fiddle to a washed-up peer? Who took this job?!” (32k Reposts, 18k Comments)

@VoiceShadowFollower: “Focus on the work. Looking forward to Teacher Xi’s Shen Su. Please do not compare or drag.”

@AllMyShipsAreBE: “??? My dead ship is coming back to life? ‘I’m here’ is such a loaded phrase…”

@EntertainmentCommittee: “I don’t understand this move. What does Lou Ningyu gain? Anything Xi Jisheng can give her, she already has.”

@IndustryDataAnalyst: “Commercially, this is highly unwise. Partnering with Xi Jisheng offers zero traffic boost, and the subject matter is sensitive. The only explanation—she’s desperate for an award, or…” (The rest of the sentence was censored).

WeChat was even louder:

“Entertainment Gossip Group” (500 people)

Casting Director Sister Li: “Holy crap! It’s official! They’re actually working together!”

Producer Mr. Wang: “How big is Peng Ke’s ego to think he can put these two in the same frame?”

Gossip Xiao Ba: “@Everyone, who has the inside scoop? What is the actual relationship between them?”

Anonymous A: “I heard Lou Ningyu requested it. Specifically named Xi Jisheng.”

Anonymous B: “Role-stealing seven years ago, second fiddle seven years later? What kind of angst-filled script is this?”

…

The center of this tsunami was currently in a gym in Beijing, having just finished a set of strength training.

Xi Jisheng was lying on a bench press, preparing for her final set. Sweat soaked her sports top, outlining clear muscle definition. At twenty-nine, she maintained a strict fitness regimen—the discipline of a professional actor.

Her phone on the nearby shelf vibrated frantically. Once, twice, three times… like an emergency alarm.

Her personal trainer, Xiao Yang, noted, “Teacher Xi, your phone…”

Xi Jisheng finished her last rep, sat up, wiped her sweat with a towel, and finally picked up the phone. She unlocked it to see the Weibo notification:

“@LouNingyu: Zhou Yin. I’m here. @MovieEchoes”

She stared at those words for five full seconds without breathing. Her palms broke into a cold sweat. She gripped the phone so hard her knuckles turned white.

Nearby, people were whispering.

“No way! Lou Ningyu and Xi Jisheng are collaborating?” a young girl on the leg press exclaimed.

Her companion leaned over to see. “For real? I thought they were sworn enemies.”

“Marketing stunt, surely. The production team must have forced it.”

“What’s in it for Lou Ningyu? Charity work?”

“Maybe she wants to pivot to art films. She’s thirty, after all…”

Every word was like a needle pricking Xi Jisheng’s eardrums. She felt a wave of dizziness and had to steady herself against a weight rack.

Seven years.

She thought she had built high enough walls to face any news about Lou Ningyu with composure. But now that the name had crashed back into her life, she realized the wall was as fragile as paper.

She tapped into Weibo. The “Explosive” tag next to #LouNingyuDowngrades burned her eyes like fire.

Her fingers trembling, she opened WeChat and found the avatar that hadn’t seen a message in seven years. The story still ended with Lou Ningyu’s: “At least tell me why.”

Her fingertip hovered over the input box.

She typed: “Why?” — Deleted.

She typed: “Do you know what this means?” — Deleted.

Ultimately, she sent nothing. She locked the screen, seeing her own pale reflection in the dark glass.

“Teacher Xi, are you okay?” Xiao Yang asked. “You look quite pale.”

“I’m fine,” Xi Jisheng’s voice was raspy. “Probably overtrained. I’m heading out.”

She practically bolted to the locker room, locked the door, and slid down the cold metal to sit on the floor. Under the harsh white lights, she buried her face in her arms, her shoulders beginning to shake uncontrollably.

…

The phone vibrated again. This time, it was a call from Lin Wenxun.

Xi Jisheng took several deep breaths, forced herself to calm down, and answered. “Sister Lin.”

“Seen the news?” Lin Wenxun’s voice was urgent. “Where are you?”

“Gym. About to head home.”

“Stay put. I’m coming to you. Twenty minutes.”

By the time Lin Wenxun arrived, Xi Jisheng had showered and changed into clean clothes, sitting in a corner of the lounge area with an electrolyte drink. Her face was still pale, but she had regained a surface level of calm.

“Drink this.” Lin Wenxun handed her a hot Americano and sat opposite her. “Lou Ningyu’s team just sent the final version of the contract’s supplementary clauses. Take a look.”

Xi Jisheng took the iPad. Her eyes stopped on Articles 38 and 39:

Article 38: The production side is prohibited from hyping the private relationship of the two leads in any form…

Article 39: If one party causes the other to suffer online harassment or reputational damage… the responsible party must publicly apologize and provide compensation…

She looked up, puzzled. “These terms… They’re so strict. It’s almost tying everyone’s hands.”

“Exactly.” Lin Wenxun leaned back, rubbing her temples. “But do you know why she added them?”

Xi Jisheng shook her head.

“She’s protecting you,” Lin Wenxun said, emphasizing every word.

“What?” Xi Jisheng froze.

“Think about it,” Lin Wenxun leaned in, lowering her voice. “If the public finds out you actually dated and now she’s ‘downgrading’ to act with you, how will the media write it? ‘Top Movie Queen can’t forget old flame, humbly begs for reconciliation’? ‘Xi Jisheng relies on ex’s charity for resources’? You would be roasted alive.”

Xi Jisheng’s fingers tightened, deforming the paper cup slightly.

“By adding these terms, she takes all the PR pressure onto herself,” Lin Wenxun continued. “She becomes the ‘willful’ one, the one ‘sacrificing everything for art.’ You remain the passive colleague just accepting a job. If anyone gets criticized, it’s her for ‘clinging,’ not you for being ‘calculating’ or ‘climbing’.”

The steam from the coffee blurred Xi Jisheng’s vision. “Why would she… why go this far?”

Lin Wenxun looked at her with a complex gaze. “Jisheng, it’s been seven years. Do you still not understand her?”

Xi Jisheng looked up.

“Everything she does—on the surface it’s career, but underneath, it’s all emotion,” Lin Wenxun sighed. “Seven years ago you pushed her away. She didn’t pester you, but she didn’t go far either. She just found a different way to keep loving you in a place you couldn’t see.”

A tear finally fell into the coffee, creating a small ripple.

Xi Jisheng remembered the note in the wooden box: “Jisheng, be brave.” She remembered Teacher Ai saying, “I’ve been waiting for a chance to look back.” She remembered those three words on the trending list: “I’m here.”

It turned out that over these years, she wasn’t the only one in pain. Lou Ningyu had been waiting too. In her own stubborn, silent way, she had waited for seven years.

“So now…” Xi Jisheng wiped her eyes. “What do I do?”

“Do your job,” Lin Wenxun patted her hand. “Play Shen Su well, cooperate with the promotion, but in public, keep your distance. That protects her, and it protects you.”

“Keep my distance?”

“Yes.” Lin Wenxun’s expression was solemn. “In front of everyone, you must maintain the appearance of ‘discord’ or at least ‘strangers.’ Those are the rules of the game, and it’s the final protection she can give you.”

…

On the ride home, Xi Jisheng scrolled through her phone. The fans were fighting, “CP fans” were excavating old interactions from seven years ago, and “solo fans” were desperately trying to control the comments.

She opened the Weibo compose page. What should she post? Following the official announcement, she hadn’t said anything.

Lin Wenxun’s advice: “Post something polite, a photo of the script, no emotion.”

Looking out at the passing neon lights, Xi Jisheng remembered their first student film together. They were both nobodies, pulling all-nighters in a tiny editing room. Lou Ningyu had fallen asleep on her shoulder, still clutching the storyboard. Back then, they thought the future was infinite.

She found a photo of the script’s title page. On it, she had written a note: “Shen Su—her loneliness isn’t a choice, it’s a habit.”

She typed and deleted, finally leaving one line:

“Shen Su, please guide me. @MovieEchoes”

Almost the moment she posted, her heart began to race. What was she expecting? What was she afraid of?

Two minutes later, a notification: @LouNingyu commented on your Weibo.

Xi Jisheng tapped it.

“Looking forward to a pleasant collaboration. //@XiJisheng: Shen Su, please guide me.”

No emojis. No extra words. Just two colleagues exchanging professional pleasantries. But Xi Jisheng stared at those words for a long time.

Pleasant collaboration.

From now on, they were collaborators. They were Shen Su and Zhou Yin; they were Xi Jisheng and Lou Ningyu; they were a reunion after seven years. It was a story in a script, and a “to be continued” in reality.

The elevator climbed, the numbers flickering. Xi Jisheng whispered to herself in the confined space:

“Lou Ningyu, what exactly… What do you want to do?”

But in her heart, she knew the real answer: She is waiting for you. After seven years, she finally found a legitimate way to walk toward you.

The elevator doors opened. A new day was about to begin. And their story, after seven years of silence, had finally turned to Chapter Two.