The Film Queen Is Cold and Ruthless, Only Sends Money - Chapter 4
Wen Yun didn’t receive Jiang Zhi’s response right away. Following her gaze, she was surprised to find that Jiang Zhi was… chatting?
Even though she had just finished work and looked somewhat tired, her expression was noticeably relaxed.
Jiang Zhi had two social media accounts. Most of her contacts were on her work account, which Wen Yun usually managed and replied to on her behalf.
The other was a private account with very few contacts only Wen Yun, Jiang Zhi’s mother, and a handful of close friends.
So Wen Yun naturally assumed Jiang Zhi was chatting with her mother. “Talking to your mom?”
Jiang Zhi finished typing her message. Recalling that there had been four or five cars parked in the villa area earlier, she figured the keys were probably still there. Among them, there should be a model Su Yun would like.
Hearing Wen Yun’s question, she finally looked up. “No, I was chatting with Su Yun.”
Even though Jiang Zhi was her artist and Su Yun was her artist’s partner, hearing that name from Jiang Zhi’s mouth still felt strangely unfamiliar to Wen Yun.
She was certain she hadn’t developed amnesia or Alzheimer’s so how had Jiang Zhi suddenly started chatting with Su Yun?!
Wen Yun froze for two seconds before asking, “Did she reach out to you again?”
What she really wanted to say was “harass.”
In the past, Su Yun had spammed messages just to get Jiang Zhi’s attention, but Jiang Zhi had never responded.
Eventually, Su Yun seemed to understand Jiang Zhi’s stance, but she still didn’t give up instead, she started bombarding Wen Yun with messages.
Thus, Wen Yun had witnessed an endless stream of cringy pickup lines and forced small talk.
Perhaps Wen Yun’s thoughts were too obvious, because Jiang Zhi shook her head and handed her the phone. “She was just thanking me normally.”
Wen Yun glanced at the chat interface. The messages were simple and straightforward, no fawning, no flattery. In fact, Jiang Zhi had been the one to end the conversation.
After a brief silence, Wen Yun muttered, “Did she have a personality transplant today? This is so normal.”
Jiang Zhi took her phone back, her tone indifferent. “Be civil. Don’t antagonize her.”
Wen Yun raised her hands in surrender. She knew this was Jiang Zhi’s principle: never gossip about others behind their backs, only judge their actions.
“Got it. So, did you talk to her about the variety show and the preview episode?”
As a manager, Wen Yun prioritized her artist’s career above all else. Even if it was just a variety show, she wanted to plan ahead for smoother PR and promotions.
Jiang Zhi paused for a moment before shaking her head. “No need to discuss it in advance. We’ll just interact naturally.”
Wen Yun frowned. “I’m not worried about you. But aren’t you afraid Su Yun might pull something unexpected during filming?”
Jiang Zhi’s perspective was more long-term. “If she really wanted to cause trouble, telling her in advance wouldn’t stop her.”
What she didn’t tell Wen Yun was that this show felt more like an opportunity she was giving Su Yun.
Wen Yun respected Jiang Zhi’s decision. “Alright. Then I’ll touch base with her manager briefly.”
“Mm. Clear your schedule on the day of the preview shoot. We’ll go back to film it.” Jiang Zhi finally answered Wen Yun’s initial question.
–
Dear Them, an all-new sapphic romance variety show exclusively produced by Apple TV, had been a huge hit with audiences for its first two seasons.
The show invited several celebrity couples from the entertainment industry some already married, others still dating.
The variety show revolves around travel as its main theme, adopting a fully live-streamed format. It aims to help participating couples discover the true essence of life through their journeys and daily interactions while deepening their emotional bonds.
Thus, the show’s slogan and tagline is: “Fall in love while traveling, find joy while in love.”
The labels attached to it are: heartwarming, lighthearted, romantic.
It all sounds very wholesome, but when the production team posted the promotional content on Weibo as usual, netizens in the comments section didn’t hold back.
[Production team, do you honestly believe your own tagline?]
[I think the real slogan should be: “Break up on the show, find happiness in the breakup.” doge]
[For those who don’t know, in the first two seasons, five couples broke up, and by the end, some even switched partners.]
[“Dear Them” aka “108 Reasons to Break Up”!]
[The show is indeed popular, but viewers definitely aren’t here for the warmth and relaxation, they’re here for the drama and trainwrecks, LOL!]
[Exactly! The past is the past, now it’s just chaos. So, is Season 3 starting soon? I can’t wait to see the drama unfold!]
The production team hasn’t yet released the list of participants for this season, so netizens are busy speculating about the celebrity lineup.
[The first two seasons had pretty big names, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say Lin Yan!]
[I just saw Jing Zhaozhao repost the Weibo post does that mean she’s confirmed?]
[What about Liu Yangran? She’s a rising star, no less impressive than Jiang Zhi, and she just announced her relationship. Surely she qualifies?]
[Liu Yangran trying to compare herself to Jiang Zhi? How much longer is she gonna ride the “Little Jiang Zhi” marketing train? Maybe check the award records before bragging here?]
[How is Liu Yangran not comparable? Her partner is a well-known singer, at least. Jiang Zhi’s married to Su Yun are they coming to embarrass themselves on the show?]
[Actually, there might be insider info that Jiang Zhi and Su Yun are joining…]
[Don’t they have zero chemistry? This is a romance show are they just gonna awkwardly interact like strangers?]
Su Yun saw Jiang Zhi’s message and asked Aunt Liu, only to learn that five or six cars were parked outside the villa.
The Goddess of Generosity had once again worked her magic.
With a heart full of gratitude, Su Yun opened Weibo, ready to repost the variety show’s promotional post.
But since she hadn’t logged in for a long time during her hospital stay, it took a full five minutes of lagging before she could access her account.
The original owner of the account had a terrible reputation her inbox was flooded with hate messages, and her follower count was pitifully low.
Su Yun ignored all that and searched for the official Weibo account of Dear Them. After skimming the comments, she raised an eyebrow.
This show sounds interesting?
But given her and Jiang Zhi’s relationship, there was no way they’d break up.
Because they were never together in the first place.
The moment Su Yun reposted the show’s Weibo post, her notifications exploded.
Say what you will about the entertainment industry, but sometimes, hate-fame is still fame. Within just one minute of reposting, the comments had already surpassed four digits.
Even some A-list celebrities might not have fans this… enthusiastic.
Liu Yangran was one of the celebrities whose data couldn’t match Su Yun’s.
She debuted under the moniker “Little Jiang Zhi,” as her side profile, when shot from certain angles and with some photo editing, bore a slight resemblance to Jiang Zhi.
Thanks to marketing, her fanbase grew quickly, allowing her to establish a foothold in the entertainment industry. She had already starred in two or three big-budget idol dramas.
But winning awards in the film and television industry required genuine acting skills and talent.
Unable to secure any accolades, she hoped that Dear Them would boost her popularity and help her land better scripts.
The trending topics she had bought just days earlier were suddenly overshadowed by Su Yun’s unexpected rise. Despite Su Yun having no real skills or notable works, her online buzz was inexplicably high. Naturally, Liu Yangran wasn’t happy about it.
Knowing Su Yun would also appear on the variety show, Liu Yangran had preemptively hired an army of fake accounts not only to promote herself but also to drag down both Jiang Zhi and Su Yun.
After the Dear Them production team posted on Weibo, she lurked in the comments section with a burner account. Seeing that netizens disliked Su Yun, a smug smile crept onto her face.
But before she could fully relax, a notification popped up Su Yun had just posted a new Weibo update.
She hurriedly clicked in, only to watch in disbelief as the likes and comments on Su Yun’s post skyrocketed, far surpassing her own metrics.
“Why?!” Liu Yangran gritted her teeth, unable to comprehend it.
If she couldn’t outshine Jiang Zhi, how could she possibly lose to someone like Su Yun?!
Her manager, standing nearby, glanced at Su Yun’s Weibo post. “Some people are just born with a natural magnetism for attention. We can’t compete with that.”
The entertainment industry was crowded, but only a handful truly stood out.
Yet there were always those with an inexplicable aura that drew everyone’s gaze.
The manager had meant to console Liu Yangran, urging her to keep a level head.
After all, harboring resentment while secretly stalking the other person on a burner account was… suspiciously closeted behavior.
But Liu Yangran only grew angrier at the remark.
She scrolled through Su Yun’s comment section, and seeing the flood of negative remarks, her frustration eased slightly.
She shoved her phone in front of her manager. “Su Yun’s comments are full of hate. By the time the show airs, she’ll probably have no buzz left.”
–
While Liu Yangran was busy watching, Su Yun was doing the same, most of the comments were from anti-fans.
In the past, the original owner of this account would have ignored them, but Su Yun was different.
Having spent too long as an overworked employee in her past life, and now reborn, her mindset had shifted dramatically.
Right now, aside from her generous benefactor Jiang Zhi, she refused to tolerate anyone’s nonsense including the original owner’s haters.
So, as she skimmed the comments,
“Why is Su Yun still in the entertainment industry? Couldn’t the show afford anyone better?”
Su Yun replied: “The sky’s clear, the rain’s stopped, do you suddenly think you’re qualified?”
“Day 99 of waiting for Su Yun to quit showbiz.”
Su Yun: “Day 99 of your wish failing. Don’t forget to clock in tomorrow.”
“If the show really invited Su Yun, I’m boycotting everything about it!”
Su Yun: “Some people, once missed, are truly a blessing in disguise.”
“Su Yun’s actually going on a variety show? Can she reflect a little and have some shame?”
Su Yun: “Life’s hard enough, why waste time reflecting?”
Channeling the frustration from her past-life boss, Su Yun clapped back effortlessly, barely even needing to think.
After dealing with her own comment section, she still remembered the fan of Liu Yangran who had been disparaging Jiang Zhi earlier.
Since she had nothing else to do at the moment, she might as well help her “generous bodhisattva” settle this matter.
She searched for Liu Yangran’s Weibo, which had also just reposted the show’s promotional post.
The caption read: “I hide the rose behind my back.”
The accompanying photo was set in a flower shop, showing her and her girlfriend embracing lightly, with a single rose in hand.
The comments below were filled with well-wishes for the couple and excitement for their upcoming variety show.
Compared to Su Yun’s Weibo, the atmosphere here was nothing short of harmonious.
The only comment that stood out was the third most popular one: Isn’t this way better than Su Yun and Jiang Zhi’s pairing?
Under most celebrities’ posts, fans usually control the narrative, making such disparaging remarks rare unless the celebrity tacitly approves of them.
Liu Yangran’s intentions were obvious.
Su Yun chuckled lightly and, amidst the sea of congratulatory comments, posted a reply with her main account: “You hide the rose behind your back, while the florist checks the security footage.”
Within minutes of her comment, the trending list exploded.