The Whole World Is Waiting for Me and My Ex-Girlfriend to Remarry (Entertainment Industry) - Chapter 40

Emotions weave a net.

Zhong Qing and Dong Huaci never hid their relationship from their teammates.

They ate late-night snacks together and squeezed into the same seat in the dressing room. They wore each other’s clothes and went to dance class hand-in-hand. If you found one of them, you were guaranteed to see the other not far away. Eventually, the two became so clingy that they were like each other’s shadows.

The bubbles of the honeymoon phase floated around them constantly, though they did have occasional quarrels. In Dong Huaci’s memory, the content of their arguments was quite childish. For instance, if Zhong Qing liked a certain piece of clothing that Dong Huaci didn’t, Zhong Qing would tell her she had no taste. If Dong Huaci liked a particular plush toy and Zhong Qing called it immature, Dong Huaci would fire back that Zhong Qing lacked a “maiden’s heart.”

Zhong Qing would then shamelessly retort: “Mm-hmm, that’s because I have the heart of a mature ‘Yu-jie’ (cool older sister type).”

At the time, “Yu-jie” was Zhong Qing’s official persona.

However, Dong Huaci felt that Zhong Qing was not someone who could be summarized by a simple label like “Yu-jie.”

During one of their late-night heart-to-hearts, Zhong Qing spoke about fragments of her childhood. She spoke of them shallowly, but Dong Huaci could sense that her family had its own share of brokenness.

“The relationship between me and my parents isn’t good. They actually strongly opposed me coming out to work in the entertainment industry,” Zhong Qing said calmly that day during a dormitory chat, lying on her bed in the T-shirt she loved to use as pajamas. “To people of their generation, great wealth and status have absolutely nothing to do with showing your face in public. To them, if you have to show your face for a living, it proves your family is failing. They always wanted me to study hard and eventually help manage the family business.”

Dong Huaci rolled over on her bed to face her: “So, is that why you dropped out of your previous university?”

“Actually, I haven’t fully dropped out yet; it’s more like a leave of absence. But in the end, I’ll have to withdraw. It’s just a matter of time,” Zhong Qing added precisely.

At the time, Dong Huaci comforted her: “But this is your dream!”

Yes, a dream. Before it is realized, it is far too alluring—like a bright red apple coated in the frosting of ambition and desire, tempting a person to risk their best years for it. However, Dong Huaci never imagined that the harshest fall she would take on this path would be her mother’s critical illness.

She remembered it very clearly. Her mother told her she wasn’t feeling well two months and three days after Dong Huaci joined the company. By the time her mother passed away, Dong Huaci had only been with the company for three months. During those nightmare-inducing twenty days, Dong Huaci had to bring her mother to Shanghai for treatment while preparing for an important performance. In the end, she messed up her steps during the show, nearly tripping her teammate. Although that teammate was Huanhuan, He Xizi’s good friend, who didn’t blame her at all, Dong Huaci’s negative press exploded. This was because Huanhuan already had a base of fans, and Dong Huaci’s own popularity had been steadily rising—people had even labeled her the “Sweet Goddess” among the newcomers.

The malice found under the posts of marketing accounts—those specifically dedicated to industry gossip and controversy—was particularly unrestrained because everyone was shielded by the anonymity of the internet. At the time, the tone of the comments regarding Dong Huaci looked like this:

“Isn’t she just a pure, talentless ‘vase’? Sweat drop emoji.”

“Her mother just passed away; let’s have some decency and accumulate some karma.”

“Is she even that pretty? Honestly, she’s not as good as a full-time streamer. If you like her, why not just watch a streamer?”

“You can slack off on dancing, but you can’t go around sabotaging others.”

Dong Huaci’s emotional state was extremely unstable then. Although illness is a natural disaster beyond human control, and Zhong Qing had been constantly helping with her mother’s accommodation and hospital arrangements, Dong Huaci felt as if she had suddenly fallen into a thick fog.

“I don’t know…” Two days after the public outcry, while the shadows still lingered, Dong Huaci sat in the spot on the rooftop where Zhong Qing often sat, her eyes clouded with a hazy mist. “I actually don’t know what I should do. It’s just that I don’t love dancing as much as some other people do, but it’s not that I’m unwilling to work hard.”

“Can I work hard in a different field?”

Zhong Qing, sitting beside her, suddenly didn’t know what to say.

After all, at this very moment, Zhong Qing had her own pressures. Although Dong Huaci desperately needed someone to share her pain, because they were in the same situation and their work overlapped, the stronger the empathy was, the more it only resulted in a clearer sense of powerlessness.

Zhong Qing understood perfectly that Dong Huaci didn’t need her to teach her how to dance or to stand up for her. What she needed most right now was a practical, viable way out—something Zhong Qing could not provide at that moment.

“Which field do you want to switch to?” Zhong Qing could only ask cautiously and tactfully. She was also in pain. Sometimes, the weakness of a human being in the face of natural disasters and human tragedies is something that even material wealth cannot remedy.

“I don’t know,” Dong Huaci murmured.

The thought of not wanting to be an idol had been quietly planted in her heart during her first year as a trainee.

At this moment, she hadn’t fully figured it out yet. She thought she just wanted to do something else, rather than specifically not wanting to pursue a singing and dancing career. In her current life plan, the goal was still how to succeed in this career, because this was her first company and she wanted to be grateful; Zhong Qing was her beloved partner, and she wanted to stay by her side.

Right now, before their eyes, was the same vast expanse of layered clouds. They overlapped, merged, and dissipated, rolling and flying across the sun. Eventually, Dong Huaci could no longer find the specific cloud she had first started staring at, and a sudden sense of melancholy washed over her.

In the few seconds of silence while Zhong Qing didn’t respond, Dong Huaci spoke again: “Life is like the clouds, forever without a place to belong.”

Is it truly worth it to trade privacy and peace for the possibility of wealth and glory?

Zhong Qing’s capacity for empathy was not weak; in fact, it was incredibly strong. Therefore, she completely understood Dong Huaci’s current state of mind.

“It’s actually good that my mother died,” Dong Huaci said with a serious attitude, uttering words that sounded incredibly shocking and illogical. “That way, she won’t have the chance to see those comments attacking me on the internet.”

Zhong Qing slowly took a sharp breath.

Dong Huaci rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ve been crying all the time lately. Actually, I’m a bit embarrassed to tell you—you’re my lover, not my doctor, yet you have to be responsible for my emotions.”

Faced with this situation, the nineteen-year-old Zhong Qing was also a bit lost and helpless.

At this moment, all she could do was hug her, just as Dong Huaci had proactively hugged her countless times before.

Zhong Qing knew that for an eighteen-year-old girl, the death of a family member combined with malicious comments could completely crush her for a period of time. The problem was that she was also very young. Consequently, she could only stay behind the scenes, constantly buying Dong Huaci food, drinks, and perfume. Sometimes Dong Huaci would be very happy, and sometimes she would be unhappy.

When Dong Huaci finished a performance and everyone was praising her, she would blink her eyes and ask Zhong Qing: “Do they hate me? I saw the comments online…”

After this, Dong Huaci’s emotional state grew even more unstable.

She began to purge; she hoped to become even thinner.

The day Zhong Qing first discovered this, she was bordering on rage. Yes, rage. It was an uncontrollable fire, but she knew deep down that she could not—and should not—direct this anger toward Dong Huaci. So, when she pulled Dong Huaci out of the bathroom and settled her onto the bed, she didn’t know how to organize her own emotions.

Instead, she kissed Dong Huaci forcefully.

Dong Huaci hit her. In the end, they were both exhausted, but neither said a bad word about the other. Dong Huaci simply buried her head in Zhong Qing’s shoulder again, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. Sweat fell in layers, appearing as if the cocoon of a butterfly was falling away piece by piece, but the wings were broken, leaving behind a certain redundant skeletal frame that had been reborn into a human shape.

Dong Huaci said in a very fragile voice: “Zhong Qing, you can’t just leave me be.”

Sometimes Zhong Qing felt that turning this helpless emotion into another form of “violence” against Dong Huaci was unacceptable, so she would go to the empty dance studio alone and practice in silence. Miraculously, her dancing actually improved the more she practiced. However, on one occasion when she locked the door, she saw Dong Huaci squatting on the floor outside waiting for her. Her already small face was obscured by layers of frizzy, permed hair, and Zhong Qing felt that Dong Huaci was truly pitiable. Dong Huaci didn’t say a word, but her entire facial expression screamed: Are you finally tired of me? Are you going to stop taking care of me?

The door opened. Dong Huaci stood up, gave Zhong Qing a nudge—a weak push—and ran away.

Zhong Qing chased after her. As Dong Huaci ran, she began to cry again. When she couldn’t stop crying, the only thing that could make her feel better was for Zhong Qing to kiss her. Afterward, Dong Huaci would sometimes beg Zhong Qing to drive her back. The motive was self-evident: certain patterns that had evolved into expressions of love became outlets for emotional venting. The next day, when the two practiced dancing, neither dared to wear a camisole.

Sometimes He Xizi felt truly caught in the middle. Although people say one shouldn’t interfere in the affairs of a young couple, anyone who spent enough time with them could tell that the dynamic of this relationship was off. Yet, if one were truly to leave the other, He Xizi was genuinely afraid they would both collapse. At this point, Dong Huaci seemed parasitic to Zhong Qing. He Xizi sometimes wanted to advise Zhong Qing, but she didn’t know whether to advise a breakup or a reconciliation. She clearly knew that Dong Huaci was being wronged, but also that Dong Huaci was the more unreasonable one. However, seeing Dong Huaci’s “about to shatter” state, combined with her family background, He Xizi could only remain silent, occasionally going to the convenience store with Zhong Qing to buy drinks.

Zhong Qing was a truly interesting person.

When she went to the convenience store with He Xizi, Zhong Qing could finally drop her mask and couldn’t help but complain a bit about Dong Huaci’s situation. She would complain about the bad things, yet she never hesitated to spend money on her. The “bad things” she mentioned were things like Dong Huaci having a stomachache again, not daring to say much else, and then she would start resenting the world. He Xizi knew she didn’t dare show resentment toward Dong Huaci in front of outsiders, but emotions do not simply disappear. Consequently, Zhong Qing had a sudden surge of inspiration for songwriting during that time. When Dong Huaci smiled at her and turned back into that “sweet little tree” from before, the songs she wrote were exceptionally sweet. But when there were stomachaches and hitting, the lyrics turned into a sea of resentment and bitter love. Strangely enough, it was those songs of bitter fate and resentful love that sold the best. Fate is truly mysterious and fair—it always favors the most genuine expressions of raw emotion.