The Whole World Is Waiting for Me and My Ex-Girlfriend to Remarry (Entertainment Industry) - Chapter 17

Is there a rule saying that the “thing” you give someone can’t be a living person?

Dong Huaci stared at the phone—Zhong Qing’s phone—falling into a strange sort of standstill.

Zhong Qing had already changed her phone. This wasn’t to say that the phone she used back when she and Dong Huaci were teammates in a girl group wasn’t good. In fact, Zhong Qing always used the latest models, just like the one in Dong Huaci’s hand now: the newest version, with memory so large it could download ten games at once, and a matching designer phone case from the same series that was inexplicably expensive. She called it “good tactile feel”—everything had to be a matching set, the best of the best.

Once upon a time—when was it? Oh, back when Zhong Qing was just an unknown leader of a “nugu” girl group, before Dong Huaci had left the group, Zhong Qing had told her: “If you’re going to do something, do it the best. If you’re going to be something, be number one. If you’re going to use something, use the one you love most.”

Then, she would glance at Dong Huaci with an expression that was far too complex for Dong Huaci to decipher: “That way, you’ll never waste time envying others or caring about them.”

In contrast, Dong Huaci had taken a completely different path regarding phones, much like the diverging roads their lives took after she left the group. If she had a brand endorsement, she used that brand’s phone. Rather than the phone itself, Dong Huaci preferred gaudy cases and colorful charms, changing them weekly. Sometimes they were sent by the boxful by brands; sometimes she bought them herself as a form of stress relief. They were never repeated, never fixed, never certain.

Just like Dong Huaci’s own heart. She wanted more and more things, and so she drifted further and further from the shadow of her original self. A shadow’s coverage never fears the strength of the sun or the height of its master; what a shadow fears most is the overlapping of countless other shadows.

Seeing Dong Huaci frozen while holding the phone, Zhong Qing grew confused instead. She stood up and asked, “Can’t find the WeChat app?”

In fact, after unlocking the phone, the WeChat app was right in the center of Zhong Qing’s solid black wallpaper.

It was as if she were afraid Dong Huaci would get lost in her phone; she wasn’t being attentive enough. “I usually note down industry contacts by their profession and full name.”

Dong Huaci let out an “Ah” with a somewhat forced, natural cuteness, but she knew very well that Zhong Qing fell for this act—just as a mother never tires of a sixty-year-old daughter acting like a spoiled child. “Why do I have to be the one to delete it? Can’t you do it yourself?”

Zhong Qing was already sitting on the floor packing her luggage. She lifted the bottles and jars in her hand, the light reflecting off their edges making it hard for Dong Huaci to see her expression. “I don’t even know who she is. If I delete her, doesn’t it make me look like I’m trying too hard?”

So, fueled by a spark of irritation—which felt like it had status, yet lacked any official standing—Dong Huaci tapped away at the nine-key keyboard, searching directly for the name “Zhao Xuanxuan.”

Seeing that this “uninvited guest” who had appeared twice didn’t answer, Zhong Qing wasn’t impatient. Instead, a subtle sense of satisfaction rose in her heart; she realized she wasn’t the only one having emotional fluctuations. She slammed her suitcase shut and, unfazed, continued the conversation with herself: “Are you going to leave her a message? Using my phone.”

Dong Huaci continued typing, muttering under her breath, “I say, Zhong Qing, what does it have to do with you!”

Zhong Qing: “I recall this being my phone and my WeChat account?”

Dong Huaci found a sudden burst of courage and gave a fake smile. “I won’t. The most outrageous thing I’d do is use your account to transfer money to myself. What’s the daily limit now? Twenty thousand?”

Zhong Qing couldn’t help but laugh again. Dong Huaci always had a unique knack for making her exceptionally happy in the strangest ways. “Transfer it if you want. The company won’t audit my WeChat transfers. You know the password anyway.”

Dong Huaci played dumb. “I don’t know it.” She placed the phone back on the stand, suddenly sinking back into a sense of emptiness. “I’ve finished deleting. Don’t worry, I didn’t look at anything else.”

Zhong Qing stood up and took the phone, still in that cool, triumphant, and happy state. “I’m glad I could be of a little help to soothe the temper of my co-star. But could you tell me what the last thing you sent before deleting her was? I saw you typing for a while.”

“Added by mistake. Clearing list. Sorry.”

Dong Huaci spat out the three short phrases one by one. Seeing that soft face say such blunt words was almost amusing to Zhong Qing.

Zhong Qing nodded appreciatively. “Anything else? If you stay here any longer, I’ll start thinking you were very satisfied with my kissing skills that night and want another round.”

The ambiguous atmosphere was terminated by Dong Huaci’s next few words. She remained standing a few paces away from Zhong Qing, maintaining the same distance they kept on set. She said, “Zhong Qing, don’t be sad. I mean… about the times in the crew.”

Zhong Qing took a sharp, quiet breath.

As expected, she was still the same—extremely sensitive to her emotions.

Dong Huaci stood there, watching Zhong Qing’s back for nearly a minute. Seeing that Zhong Qing truly had no further movement, a sense of melancholy began to spread through the late night. Humans always go to extremes to avoid partings. She left a quiet “Rest early” and, like a fully matured adult, gently closed the door and left—as if the person who had rushed down to throw a tantrum and delete a contact wasn’t Dong Huaci at all.

Dong Huaci thought that her behavior tonight was perhaps just a human instinct. Humans instinctively want to believe in having one best friend, one perfect lover, and walking one brightest path. For Dong Huaci, she once thought her mother was her most important relative, that her friends from high school and the girl group would always stand by her side, and that Zhong Qing would be the love of her life. She thought she would one day find her place in the entertainment industry, achieve her own career, and gain beautiful fame. This thought was like Judas’s apple—the problem wasn’t whether she should take it, but discovering that no one was handing it to her. In the end, time causes humans to forget, waver, and drown their original dreams, even distorting them into improper obsessions or immature delusions, while elevating the “apple” as the highest trophy and most impeccable morality, for which humans should pay any price.

After Zhong Qing left this filming site, Dong Huaci spent two peaceful days focused on makeup, filming, sleeping, and memorizing lines. This peace didn’t last long because two days later, she received an invitation for a small gathering. The gathering was headed by Guan Feili, apparently for some program. The program was of a decent caliber, and her relationship with Guan Feili had grown much closer since the last time. After reporting to Shi Xiaonan and deciding it was fine, Dong Huaci didn’t even bring Qiao Yi along. That afternoon, Guan Feili’s car came to the remote set to pick her up and take her to the destination.

It was during the journey that things went awry.

The makeup box was in the drawer. Since the journey to the city was long, Dong Huaci had planned to wear a face mask and gossip with Guan Feili—specifically about that Zhao Xuanxuan. Unexpectedly, Guan Feili, scrolling through her phone, suddenly raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Xiaoshu? Do you know about this? Though I don’t know if you want to know.”

Dong Huaci was very considerate. “It’s okay. Since you said that, I know it’s about Zhong Qing. Tell me, are her fans scolding me again? Which old grudge is it this time?”

Guan Feili frowned. “I don’t know if saying this will make you happy or not. It’s not you being scolded, it’s Zhong Qing—she was hit with malicious fan comments to her face at a music festival. It just hit the trending searches, so I guess you don’t know yet.”

“Scolded? For what? It’s just a normal music festival activity, how could it be related to The Phoenix Decree?”

In the backseat of the car, Dong Huaci immediately tore off her mask, forgot about sleeping, and sat up straight. Guan Feili, sitting beside her, gave her the rundown like a seasoned pro: “The performance went well, but something went wrong with the fan screening for the interview segment at the end. An arranged fan—supposedly a fan of Zhong Qing—didn’t follow the script and asked her: ‘How does it feel to be overshadowed by your ex-girlfriend in a drama? Isn’t it a bit too late to come back now and start dancing to please fans?’ Even though the fan was quickly removed and the livestream replay deleted that part, it was still recorded. Looking at this video, Zhong Qing’s face went dark immediately.”

Dong Huaci reached out without a second thought, and Guan Feili obediently handed her the phone. She stared at Guan Feili’s screen for a moment, then gave it back. She murmured, “If only I could see her. At times like this, even as an old friend, I feel so powerless.”

“I can help you two out. I’ll cover for you so you can meet,” Guan Feili said decisively. “It’s my birthday soon, and there’s a special event performance I’m hosting. I can use that as an excuse to talk to the organizing company and invite Zhong Qing for a small performance. You’ll be in the audience as a mysterious guest, staying out of sight—actually, I was planning to talk to you about this today anyway. I wanted you to give a few words of blessing; you just have to stand there looking pretty and say a few things. I could even help you with your makeup—though looking at it now, I guess I won’t be doing your makeup.” At the end, Guan Feili seemed genuinely regretful.

Dong Huaci understood completely. “So I become a truly mysterious guest, a regular audience member. And Zhong Qing becomes the performer.”

“Yes, but you don’t need to buy a ticket; you’ll use the special passage.” Guan Feili winked. “I’ll take you backstage to see her. How about it? Since you’re so worried about her, I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

Dong Huaci sat up seriously and patted Guan Feili’s hand. Their shared secrets and experiences had deepened their friendship, even changing the way she addressed her. “Feili, this is too big a favor. To be honest… I never thought things would turn out like this.” Her eyes suddenly grew lonely, making her look exceptionally pitiable. “And, unlike the rumors among the fans outside, and perhaps different from what you think—Zhong Qing and I haven’t reconciled. We aren’t even really ordinary friends… I’m just… I just feel a bit guilty.”

She released Guan Feili’s hand and sighed sincerely. “One rises by them, and one falls by them. Zhong Qing and I gained a life that ordinary people shouldn’t have access to because of fans; similarly, because of fans, we seem to be paying a price we shouldn’t have to pay… I know it sounds cheesy. But Feili, believe it or not, sometimes fame and public opinion mixed together are a terrifying weapon. If I weren’t in the The Phoenix Decree crew, if Dong Huaci had nothing to do with this script, then Zhong Qing wouldn’t have to go through this or take this hit. She did nothing wrong!”

Because of her career as a Western-style makeup blogger, Guan Feili looked very “chivalrous” and even confidently intimidating, but her gaze was gentle now, appearing truly sympathetic to Dong Huaci. “But, Cici, you didn’t do anything wrong either.” She even avoided the name “Xiaoshu” and switched to another nickname. When a girl is attentive, every detail shines.

“But she just did nothing wrong, Feili, you don’t understand.” Dong Huaci seemed to have crawled into a dead end because of the video. She ruffled her hair and leaned back against Guan Feili with hope. “Feili, I’ll have to count on you. My next break from filming is in three days. When is your program?”

Guan Feili, for some reason, started laughing heartily. “Cici, I feel like I’m back in high school, helping my seatmate pass love letters. As it happens, it’s also the day after tomorrow. How could it be so perfect? Maybe heaven wants you to go.”

Affected by this mood, Dong Huaci sighed again. “But can Zhong Qing go? Doesn’t your company have to audit the guest budget?”

Guan Feili winked. “What if Zhong Qing is willing to do it for free? It’s a charity-oriented program, roughly promoting a dermatology medical company and linked to cosmetics brands. Essentially, it’s about helping women who have been disfigured by burns or accidents rebuild their confidence, and it’s tied to anti-domestic violence and disaster relief… On the ‘high moral value’ side, there’s no problem. Even if it’s free, it’s a good reason for Zhong Qing to repair her image. Her company shouldn’t refuse.”

Dong Huaci’s face was still scrunched up like a wilted flower. “The company might not refuse, but will she? Besides, that company only cares about money; I don’t believe values or artist image would make them agree. I know Xingtu too well—they’re living devils.”

“It’s simple. I’ll go give Zhong Qing a heads-up.”

Dong Huaci stared wide-eyed at Guan Feili.

“What do you mean ‘give a heads-up’?” Dong Huaci froze. “You’ll tell her our plan? She’ll be even less likely to agree. I know her, she… she’s also a good person. You might not believe it, but she’d refuse to come for my sake. She knows the fans hate the news of us being together, and she knows my fans hate it too. Yes, no matter what that ‘together’ is—even if a gust of wind blows past the two of us, our fans will scold the wind, and the CP fans will crown that wind.”

“Oh… it doesn’t have to be that complicated. I’ll just tell Zhong Qing that after the performance, I’ll bring her something belonging to Dong Huaci. If she doesn’t come, she won’t get the chance. I can’t mail it to her company, and I have no other time to see her—I’m very ‘high-cold,’ you know.” Guan Feili made a comical “cold and aloof” expression, looking very pleased with herself. “Besides, no one ever said the ‘thing’ couldn’t be a living person, right?”