The Whole World Is Waiting for Me and My Ex-Girlfriend to Remarry (Entertainment Industry) - Chapter 35

“I don’t know how to undo the seatbelt. Help me.”

Subsequently, Zhong Qing watched helplessly as the status 【Typing…】 reverted back to a plain remark—a tree emoji. It remained motionless; this tree was deathly still yet vibrantly green, forever fresh at the very top of Zhong Qing’s chat list.

In other words, caught between calling her a psychopath and worrying about her stress levels, Dong Huaci chose to play dead.

Zhong Qing opened her contacts and scrolled for a long while before realizing she couldn’t find Dong Huaci’s name. She suddenly remembered that Dong Huaci had blacklisted her contact info ages ago.

She really had to thank Dong Huaci for having the mercy to add her back in the dressing room of The Phoenix Decree.

A WeChat voice call.

Dong Huaci picked up instantly.

But both of them seemed to have their own peculiar issues—the kind of issues that synchronized perfectly. It was their old habit: pick up the phone, don’t hang up, but don’t say a word either.

This time, Dong Huaci spoke first: “Zhong Qing.”

The habit of calling out the other person’s full name when undecided—Dong Huaci paused after speaking. Where did she pick that up from?

Zhong Qing said, “I know you saw the message. Where are you?”

Dong Huaci, clearly unwilling to show weakness, countered: “Where are you?”

Zhong Qing gave a rare, direct answer: “I’m in the basement. I want to kiss you.”

“Haha.” Surprisingly, she heard Dong Huaci let out two laughs. Zhong Qing thought it was incredible that she could laugh in this situation. “If you’re in the car, I bet you’re pulling down the rearview mirror to look at your face and practice your smile.”

Zhong Qing’s hand, currently propping up the rearview mirror, stiffened. Indeed, while on the phone with Dong Huaci, she had unconsciously started admiring her makeup for the day; she hadn’t removed it yet.

“How is your stomach?” Zhong Qing changed the subject.

“Are you worried about me? Knowing I’m about to be blacklisted, with no business deals left, so I’m very free, right?” Dong Huaci’s voice sounded as if she were drunk.

Zhong Qing knew Dong Huaci’s stress tolerance like the back of her hand. Zhong Qing was the type to die for the sake of appearances and suffer for it, while Dong Huaci was the type to live for appearances and suffer unto death.

“So you still haven’t told me where you are,” Zhong Qing said as a statement of fact.

“Sigh, I’m being a hermit,” Dong Huaci lamented. “I’ve already seen the hot searches. Yesterday’s ‘Hot Flower’ has become today’s wild grass. It really is a case of ‘Most fleeting in the world are the things that cannot stay; the youthful face leaves the mirror, and the flower leaves the tree.’ Hey, how can Zhao Xuanxuan have such a thick skin? She’s just standing there like she’s blind, as immovable as a mountain. Is there some drama she’s about to take off with?”

“Maybe she’s taking the spoiled leftovers you didn’t want.” Zhong Qing didn’t say much, but her tongue was never merciful.

“Don’t say that about her,” Dong Huaci said in a mysterious tone. “After all, she follows the same route as me. If she really takes off because of some drama, maybe I can be pulled up along with her. In the entertainment industry, let a hundred flowers bloom. I’ll just hide away and be an evergreen tree; that’s not impossible either.”

“Dong Huaci.” Zhong Qing used her full name. “You’re quite the optimist.”

After a burst of laughter, the two fell into a strange silence. All the previous topics felt like a mere facade of peace.

“I’ll give you the address of a tea room; most people don’t know it. Just give them the name Nie Qing,” Zhong Qing said. “They have things there that are good for the stomach, and there won’t be any fans. I’ll head over there in a bit too.”

“Do I have to go?” A subtle sense of grievance and a tug-of-war. “Is it always going to be like this—I have to go wherever you say?”

“See you in half an hour, if you still want a new script.” Zhong Qing hung up and restarted the car.

Knowing the lethality of that last sentence to Dong Huaci, Zhong Qing arrived at the tea room in a nearly leisurely mood. This was a private establishment with wooden steps and drifting incense. Zhong Qing’s makeup and hair were still intact, though she had changed into private clothes; the evening in this season was suitable for a trench coat. She pushed the door open, giving what she considered a very stylish entrance, only to find Dong Huaci already pale-faced. Wrapped in a black fur coat while sitting in the air conditioning, she was sipping hot tea from a cup.

The artistic lights above and the calligraphy behind Dong Huaci seemed to sprawl wildly, yet at this moment, Dong Huaci looked as if she had retracted all her thorns, leaving only a seemingly obedient face.

Zhong Qing placed a takeout bag on the wooden table. From Dong Huaci’s perspective, she first saw the exposed half-segment of white leg, then the high boots, and finally, she dropped her gaze to the takeout bag.

“I know you haven’t eaten.” Zhong Qing seemed very satisfied with Dong Huaci’s reaction to her outfit. “I had already driven out, but then I thought about it, went home to change, and warmed up some food to bring over.”

Like a cat, Dong Huaci let the words hop out softly, one by one: “Thank you.”

The lights were quiet.

Dong Huaci ate in small bites, and Zhong Qing watched her eat.

Perhaps feeling that the atmosphere was becoming too charged with emotion, Zhong Qing felt a sense of “homesick anxiety” and instead started looking at the hot searches on her phone: “Actually, I looked at today’s hot searches; they’re not that bad. You even have a solo hashtag for your outfit.”

Dong Huaci waved her hand. “Don’t mention it. Speaking of that makes me angry. There’s a hashtag for you too. I clicked on it, and it said a certain someone’s new album is infinitely glorious, firmly holding the solo C-position signature of a rookie singer, while a certain someone else is a ‘vase’ who took shortcuts and offended people, her luck has run out—the difference between clouds and mud.”

Zhong Qing replied with a very serious attitude: “That’s not true at all. It’s just normal promotion, the rest is just people stirring up trouble. If you don’t believe me, we can look at our fan forum together.”

Our fan forum—that could only mean one thing.

“Is it okay for us to secretly look at that ‘Secret Garden’? Is that the name? Something about a tree-planting garden… it’s not good, is it?” Dong Huaci put on a show of hesitation again. “Last time on set, weren’t you the one who showed it to me?”

“Was it?” Zhong Qing really couldn’t remember. She always felt it was Dong Huaci who showed it to her, but since Dong Huaci said so, she would just default to that. “Maybe they won’t mind; they might even be very happy.”

Fine. Dong Huaci nodded. In truth, she really wanted to look too, and she wanted to look with Zhong Qing. For the past six years, she would usually think about Zhong Qing’s reaction in her dreams. She often wanted to throw a line at her: If I had known our CP fans were so capable, it would have been better to break up early and fly our separate ways.

Of course, that was just a dream.

Seeing that she didn’t object, Zhong Qing took the opportunity to read to her:

【A detailed analysis of the sugar points and timeline of The Phoenix Decree.】

Dong Huaci almost couldn’t swallow her tea.

【”So they are in the same hotel, right?”】 The sentence Zhong Qing read out sounded airy.

【”Reliable gossip (Moderator’s Pick): Expected to appear in the same show together.”】

【”Today’s show photos; can be kept private or shared.”】

The more Dong Huaci heard, the more her mindset stabilized: “They didn’t dig out our meeting though.”

Which meeting? Zhong Qing, seeing that she had finished eating, stood up in high spirits, pretending not to know.

“That charity guest appearance, the one you didn’t take a single penny for.”

Dong Huaci said this as she put down her teacup.

She thought, Well, there is a predestined reason for falling in love with someone. From the person one loves, one can often glimpse the version of oneself they want to become—or the version of yourself you think you should have been if you had chosen your own life.

Dong Huaci looked up, gazing at Zhong Qing’s face which was habituated to looking down at her, a face glowing with beauty under the light. She thought in her heart: Zhong Qing, if I were you, would I have fallen in love with a girl from a poor family with terrible skills, who still ignorantly wasted her youth on trial and error and dreams during our trainee days?

Which point, which side of her, was it that made Zhong Qing remain so devoted in the entertainment industry, just like her name?

Zhong Qing said, “Stop looking—come with me, back to my place. You haven’t been there yet, have you? To my villa.”

What else could Dong Huaci say? She had indeed relied on her care today. Zhong Qing also knew that if she hadn’t come, Dong Huaci would likely have given up on herself, skipped dinner, and spent the middle of the night crying in the hotel. So, she threw on her coat, put on her mask, leaving only two eyes visible, and followed Zhong Qing downstairs and into the car very quietly.

“By the way, I wanted to ask, who is Nie Qing?”

On the way, sitting in the passenger seat, Dong Huaci spoke up suddenly.

Zhong Qing glanced at the rearview mirror: “Guess.”

And so, as if out of spite, they didn’t say another word.

Only when they arrived did Dong Huaci ask a strange question: “Is this your private underground garage?”

Zhong Qing laughed. For some reason, her emotional swings were always particularly large when facing Dong Huaci—if it wasn’t deep sorrow, it was wild joy, or it was hard ice. At this moment, it felt more like all three were being roasted over a fire together. Her tone was bittersweet: “You say that as if you’ve never been in a basement before.”

Dong Huaci looked at the reflection of her own face in the black car window and whispered, “Yeah, I’ve never sat in someone else’s passenger seat and entered their home’s basement one-on-one.”

Zhong Qing turned off the engine. After a long delay, she finally said: “Nie Qing is my mother.”

After saying that, the two were in perfect sync—neither of them got out of the car, letting the scent of the car perfume linger in the air.

Zhong Qing didn’t open the door either. She took a sip of water, her tone trembling slightly: “Aren’t you getting out?”

Dong Huaci was extra delicate today, very relaxed. Her answer was even more lazy, used to hide the embarrassment of forgetting Zhong Qing’s mother’s name and accidentally getting jealous over it: “To be honest, I’m a bit confused.” She said softly, “What exactly did I come to your house for in the middle of the night?”

Zhong Qing answered with an irrelevant question: “So, I’ll ask again: are you in a relationship?”

It was Dong Huaci’s turn to laugh softly: “I am, but I don’t have the divine power to hide it from my fans—I’m very busy, on set every day, and I even have sasaeng fans confessing to me.”

Zhong Qing put down the water; she always drank water when she was nervous: “Then…”

Dong Huaci blinked, using that innocent tone again, intentionally teasing her: “Weren’t you the one who sent me the message? Why is it your turn to be nervous? You dare to send it but don’t dare to admit it.”

In the rearview mirror, Zhong Qing looked in Dong Huaci’s direction. When Dong Huaci looked back, Zhong Qing couldn’t help but look down. She thought for a moment, then restarted the car and began playing music. Her new album.

Dong Huaci laughed loudly: “Zhong Qing, is this a special solo concert? It’s quite romantic.”

As she laughed, she seemed to get tired. She turned on the dome light. Dong Huaci’s makeup today was exceptionally glamorous; under the dome light, the crimson gold flakes were still so enchanting. But what Zhong Qing saw at this moment was the eighteen-year-old Dong Huaci in the dance studio, panting, with sweat dripping from her bare face as if it cost nothing.

The lyrics became more and more hazy. Dong Huaci naturally didn’t know what was on Zhong Qing’s mind; she had completely immersed herself in another matter.

Dong Huaci narrowed her eyes. Instead of staring at the car window, she turned her head and looked straight at Zhong Qing.

Using a theatrical, deliberate tone, she said: “Zhong Qing, I forgot how to undo the seatbelt. Help me undo it.”

Zhong Qing was nailed to the spot.

Five seconds after that sentence landed, Zhong Qing only dared to turn her head to look at her.

Ten seconds.

Zhong Qing leaned over. Amidst the melody of a line that sang “Gift her a rose and let her be ruined,” she reached her hand toward the buckle of the seatbelt at Dong Huaci’s waist, while simultaneously pulling Dong Huaci into a very un-pure, deep kiss.