The Whole World Is Waiting for Me and My Ex-Girlfriend to Remarry (Entertainment Industry) - Chapter 18

Give a rose and let it wither.

“No, I don’t want this project.”

Fu Hong had worked at Xingtu for many years and had long since developed a keen sense for the market. Ever since Guan Feili’s invitation had been urgently delivered to Xingtu, she had energetically completed a background investigation on Guan Feili’s status in Beijing. At this moment—the day before the performance—her advice to Zhong Qing was: “Guan Feili was a competitor for that film crew you were in. It’s best if we don’t involve ourselves with that circle anymore. Zhong Qing, what do you think?”

This conversation took place in Zhong Qing’s home.

Calling it a home wasn’t entirely accurate; it felt more like a large-scale studio. A vast portion of the space was occupied by various musical instruments. Zhong Qing was currently a minor celebrity, but even before her fame, her background allowed her to afford the rent for this sprawling flat. The living room was empty. She sat cross-legged on a soft, white soap-shaped sofa, wearing plush, touchable pajamas. She strummed a guitar, playing a soft, mellow tune as if she were truly listening to Fu Hong’s words. However, in Fu Hong’s eyes, Zhong Qing’s expression was cold and rigid. The thoughts reflected in her eyes already signaled a path diametrically opposed to the reason Fu Hong had come here.

Zhong Qing stopped her hands. The music ceased, and the silence in the room became equally rigid. The interruption of a melody never brings pleasure to the heart. She asked, “Is it because it doesn’t make money?”

Fu Hong’s expression soured. “Zhong Qing, you have to look at the long term. No matter how much you charge for a performance, I don’t take a single cent in commission. But I must admit, I become more successful as a manager because of your excellence.”

Even late at night, Fu Hong remained dressed in a business suit, creating a stark contrast with Zhong Qing’s current attire. She wore glasses, and though Zhong Qing kept telling her to sit, she insisted on standing, maintaining a distance of several paces.

Zhong Qing set the guitar down, looking disinterested. “It’s no big deal. If I turn this down, it’ll make it look like I actually care. She didn’t even mind that I won that bit part over her.”

“That role was yours to begin with! The entertainment industry isn’t a meritocracy based on acting skills. If acting were king, those veterans and traditional opera performers in the drama academies would have been superstars long ago. Zhong Qing, are you still a child?” Fu Hong’s string of intense words managed to make Zhong Qing look up. “You’re just annoyed that last time I used your album release schedule to force you into a play you didn’t want to do.” Toward the end, her voice softened appropriately. “Zhong Qing, don’t throw a tantrum. We are a team.”

Was she annoyed? Actually, she wasn’t that annoyed anymore.

The two of them continued to talk past each other; the argument was meaningless. Zhong Qing had already made up her mind because of the private WeChat messages Guan Feili had sent her.

Guan Feili: Teacher Dong Huaci asked me to give something to you.

Guan Feili: Looking forward to Teacher Zhong Qing’s arrival to give women more confident energy.

The second half was just official PR talk, but that talk provided her with enough of an excuse. Doing it for free made her seem even more sincere. Zhong Qing struggled to control her expression. Over the years, she and Fu Hong had survived countless public relations crises together. After Dong Huaci left the group, Zhong Qing made a judgment based on the company’s standpoint. If she herself became irrelevant, Fu Hong would discard her like an old shoe; if Fu Hong lost her value, Zhong Qing would suggest the company replace her manager. Because they had stripped away emotion, they had maintained this delicate balance of a relationship for years.

Finally, she simply said, “Help me create some buzz then. If I’m doing a good deed, I want people to hear it.” As she spoke, Zhong Qing opened the fridge and took out a bottle of ice-cold mineral water to boost her metabolism. “I didn’t take a cent for Guan Feili’s event. By rushing there for a performance, the rumors of discord over that stolen role will be dispelled.”

Fu Hong tilted her head, noting something down. “For activities within the scope of company authorization during your free time that are non-profit, you have the final say. Zhong Qing, I’m just giving you a friendly reminder.” Her expression turned slightly somber as she finished. “Sometimes, being too strong-willed can be very exhausting, Zhong Qing.”

But Zhong Qing’s mind had long since wandered elsewhere. The moment the ice-cold water touched her, her mind flashed back to that night in the hotel with Dong Huaci—the way she tilted her head back while drinking water, the curve of her neck, the light reflecting off her chin, and… that kiss.

After finishing the water, she felt even thirstier.

Perhaps there was another reason she agreed to this performance.

She was still a bit bothered by the fact that on the first night—no, in the middle of the night—at the Phoenix Decree set, Guan Feili had personally escorted Dong Huaci back to the hotel. If she hadn’t run into them and asked the front desk to take over, everything might have happened…

Actually, nothing happened.

Actually, she was just a bit bothered. Not a bit—very bothered.

What did they eat? What did they say? Why was it so late? Even though Guan Feili had two ex-boyfriends and had even had a messy public breakup with one of them, Zhong Qing was still bothered. Dong Huaci used to find this trait of hers unbearable. To use a nice, common term, it was called “possessiveness.” If one wanted a harsher term, one could simply read the complaints written by Dong Huaci’s fans about Zhong Qing.

But here was the question: In what capacity was she bothered now?

Harboring these chaotic thoughts, she arrived the next day to see Guan Feili. During the rehearsal, they were unexpectedly polite and harmonious. Zhong Qing didn’t walk away empty-handed; her reputation improved, and she performed the lead single from her new album, Single-Minded Devotion. It was a guitar performance with no choreography, so the on-site difficulty was low. Furthermore, there was a gentle Q&A session arranged with the audience afterward. To be precise, these were “audience members” rather than fans, as most of Zhong Qing’s hardcore fans hadn’t known about this sudden schedule. Consequently, she gained a wave of positive, non-scandalous publicity.

Everything went smoothly.

Fu Hong didn’t show up today. Zhong Qing remained patient, acting as if she hadn’t received Guan Feili’s message. She never asked what the item was, intending to wait until after the show. Guan Feili was even more amusing; she kept calling her “Sister Zhong Qing” and brought up various topics—including self-deprecating jokes about the failed screen test—but didn’t mention a word about Dong Huaci’s item, as if she had amnesia.

After several guests finished their turns, Zhong Qing took the stage as the “mystery guest” amidst a cacophony of screams, holding her guitar.

Dong Huaci was sitting in the very first row, wearing a black mask, large sunglasses, and a black wide-brimmed hat. She was dressed entirely in black—forget flamboyant jewelry, she didn’t even have a single shiny accessory.

She still loves singing so much.

Dong Huaci unconsciously sat up straighter in the audience. She was tall with long limbs, and the theater seats were actually quite cramped for her, but the moment Zhong Qing started to sing, Dong Huaci’s messy thoughts vanished instantly.

Zhong Qing looked into the camera, her naturally cold aura melting away bit by bit. She looked into the lens with affection, as if the camera were her lover. While this was a basic skill in the entertainment industry—the ability to make someone feel like they are the only one loved—how could it not be a form of poison! Dong Huaci had been drinking this poison for years and hadn’t fully detoxed. Watching her from the perspective of an audience member made her feel even more insignificant, making her want to pry into Zhong Qing’s emotions even more, which in turn made her even more uneasy.

Dong Huaci couldn’t even understand it anymore. Zhong Qing’s willingness to come surely meant she couldn’t forget either. But sometimes—specifically, at times like this—a person becomes a total fool. She took her own formerly dark thoughts and projected them all onto the current Zhong Qing. Is she just playing with me, so she’s still interacting? Is she just reminiscing about her youth? Is her career success more important than anything, and I’ll eventually just be a regret and a silhouette of her past? No, no, no, it must not be like that. Hate her, but don’t forget her; be angry, but don’t be calm; flee, but don’t be polite.

The song and its lyrics added another layer of deep affection, making her thoughts even harder to bear.

“Girl, girl, who are you waiting for to return? Single-minded devotion can change with the times. Preserved flowers do not decay, so they make the roses of youth irreplaceable. Girl, girl, don’t dwell on past arguments. Rather than single-minded devotion, why not act like a star? Give a rose and let it wither, only then is that reckless kiss and the surging tide of the heart not in vain.”

The gaze she held at the end was too lingering; Dong Huaci couldn’t help but catch her breath.

The show finally ended.

Due to Guan Feili’s arrangements, the dressing room happened to be in the innermost area. Holding a staff pass, Dong Huaci had a green light all the way. Her black sneakers hurried along, but her pace grew slower as she went, her breath becoming more hurried and shallow. Finally, when she reached the door to knock, she hesitated.

How did it come to this?

Once again, she was the uninvited guest, knocking on this door.

Dong Huaci had almost forgotten how she and Guan Feili had boldly come up with this plan of “replacing the beam with a pillar”—no, “crossing the sea under a camouflage”—actually, whatever it was, it was a reckless plan with no practical benefit. Her hand was still faster than her brain. She entered the room, expecting to face Zhong Qing’s interrogation, but the scene was not what she anticipated.

The Zhong Qing before her didn’t even show a hint of surprise that the visitor was Dong Huaci herself rather than Guan Feili. She was still wearing her stage makeup, which included a special facial design to fit the event’s theme of confidence and anti-violence, as well as her new lyrics. Overall, today’s look was unique: a gorgeous rose was painted on her porcelain-white face, its thorns extending down to her neck. She was tilting her head back to drink from a freshly opened bottle of mineral water, looking elegant and composed. She looked up, her eyes meeting Dong Huaci’s beautiful eyes—the only part of her face currently visible.

“I noticed you a long time ago. Right at the beginning, when I stepped onto the stage.”