The Whole World Is Waiting for Me and My Ex-Girlfriend to Remarry (Entertainment Industry) - Chapter 6

A moment of inexplicable guidance, an irrepressible instinct.

The night before officially joining the cast, Dong Huaci found time to keep her appointment with Guan Feili.

On the surface, this dinner was supposed to be the “apology meal” Guan Feili had mentioned—a way to make amends for her poor performance last time, which had nearly dragged Dong Huaci down with her. In the world of entertainment, where emotions are often a mix of truth and fiction, Dong Huaci couldn’t help but be moved by such a gesture. It wasn’t as if the fault lay solely with Guan Feili. Dong Huaci arrived at the rendezvous wearing a mask and no makeup.

This was actually a bit risky. If Guan Feili had brought a reporter or a friend along for the sake of trending, Dong Huaci’s photos the next day would have been disastrous.

However, when she arrived at the agreed-upon hotpot restaurant and found that Guan Feili had paid the minimum spend for a private room just so the two of them could meet alone, Dong Huaci’s first reaction was one of lament: Well, she really is a former internet celebrity, wealthy and imposing. How much wasted money is this? Why did she ever feel the need to join a girl group in the first place?

She blurted out quite unceremoniously, “Baby, this must have cost a lot of money, right?”

Guan Feili had originally been quite nervous. She was having a two-person hotpot session in full makeup and formal attire, hosting a small banquet for fear that Dong Huaci truly held a grudge over their last encounter. But Dong Huaci’s down-to-earth remark made Guan Feili burst into laughter. She naturally possessed a handsome, Westernized look, and with that laugh, any potential tension between them vanished instantly. She teased, “Xiao Shu, you’re just here to eat. Why worry about the price? It’s not like the bill is going to your company for reimbursement anyway.”

Dong Huaci laughed along with her.

A single hotpot meal made the two feel like old friends. Although Guan Feili was no longer involved in The Phoenix’s Decree, that was the nature of the entertainment industry—it was small, and having an extra friend always meant having an extra path forward. While Guan Feili’s short-video persona was loud and fiery, in reality, she was a normal, bright person. Dong Huaci found it unexpectedly comfortable to associate with someone like her.

The lens always distorts a person’s character.

Since she had to film the next day, she was watching her diet today; the two of them didn’t even order a spicy broth. By the end of the meal, after several rounds of drinks, they were sharing embarrassing memories from the set, laughing so hard they nearly tumbled into each other’s arms.

“Liu Miao, that Liu Miao… so fierce! What’s he so fierce for? His crew was the one who sent me the invitation!” Guan Feili slammed the table. “I turned down another livestream to come here. Seriously, who knew he’d be so mean? I’m going back to my comfort zone in short dramas.”

As a fellow actress from a non-professional background, Dong Huaci couldn’t help but nod with a bitter smile.

The filming location for the next day was quite far from there. Dong Huaci had been dropped off by her assistant, while Guan Feili had driven herself. Guan Feili insisted on finding a designated driver to take the equally tipsy Dong Huaci back to the production hotel, saying it would help avoid reporters and was on the way.

The “on the way” part was a lie; the filming site was on the edge of the city. But Dong Huaci didn’t refuse much, continuing to bond with Guan Feili in the backseat, half-crying and half-cursing: “I’m saying… they just… they don’t know that people like us… just… have to endure so much abuse just to get by… Ugh, it’s all about money, so annoying! Money! Money can buy people’s dreams! It’s hateful! Hateful!”

Dong Huaci’s cursing became increasingly chuunibyou-like. Guan Feili couldn’t imagine such a gorgeous, flower-like face uttering such indignant words. Luckily, the driver was an old acquaintance of hers, but he was still startled enough to sober up a bit. In the back seat, she was now coaxing and tricking Dong Huaci into calming down, promising to take her out to eat again next time—saying that no matter how down-and-out or insulted she was, Guan Feili could always afford a meal!

Whatever point she hit, Dong Huaci started crying immediately, weeping piteously before falling asleep in the car. But the moment she stepped out of the vehicle, it was as if a switch had been flipped; she woke up automatically. Fortunately, she could still walk. Guan Feili supported her as they got out and asked, “Cici, Cici, we’ve reached the address you gave me. I’ll have the front desk take you up, okay?”

Guan Feili’s car waited in place. Behind them was another vehicle—a black camper van. It was past one in the morning, and Guan Feili thought to herself how many famous people were still out and about.

The person who stepped out was also wearing a baseball cap and a black mask—the standard celebrity uniform. The small team didn’t stop for a second, appearing even more desperate to avoid the cameras than they were. Guan Feili hesitated; she wasn’t famous enough to dare ask for help, but she was at her wit’s end, unsure how to support Dong Huaci while going inside to find the front desk—she didn’t dare leave Dong Huaci alone in this state.

As it turned out, luck was on their side. Within five minutes, two female staff members stepped out and proactively asked about the situation. Recognizing Dong Huaci, they took the burden off Guan Feili, repeatedly promising her safety before taking Dong Huaci back to her room.

Of course, all of this was a bit of a blackout for Dong Huaci. Fortunately, while she was still lucid, she had set her alarm. When it rang for the third time at ten o’clock, she saw the time and practically lunged out of bed to go downstairs, remembering to put on a facial mask along the way. In that moment, the people sitting in the makeup room didn’t even allow her to react; she froze for a long time, realizing everyone was looking at her before she noticed who else was present.

Today, only her assistant Qiao Yi had come. She was shrinking helplessly into a corner, and seeing Dong Huaci was like seeing a savior: “Teacher Dong, over here, waiting for you.” Not forgetting to smooth things over, she said with genuine emotion, “Even with so little time, you didn’t forget your skincare. You’re so professional, Teacher Dong.”

Dong Huaci followed suit, walking past the group surrounding Zhong Qing. She acted as if nothing had happened, casual and natural: “I woke up late. Yesterday… I really should have picked a different time. It was a last-minute appointment. First come, first served; we’ll wait. Qiao Yi, are we just going to stare blankly?”

Qiao Yi whispered, “Teacher Dong, we really are just staring blankly.”

Yes, their mechanical dialogue was only because Zhong Qing… was also in this room.

At the moment, her back was to Dong Huaci and Qiao Yi, but she was facing a makeup mirror, so being back-to-face was essentially the same as being face-to-face. Dong Huaci was certain she had seen her disheveled entrance with the facial mask. Zhong Qing’s hair was already finished—a high ponytail with hair extensions to make the shape look full and more heroic. The production makeup artist was applying a thick layer of foundation, so her eyes were closed.

At this time, Dong Huaci couldn’t help but steal a few guilty glances at her.

She seemed to have lost a lot of weight.

However, Zhong Qing’s brows and eyes had barely changed from the version in Dong Huaci’s memory.

Back when they were together, Dong Huaci had taken many photos of her and loved using them as her phone wallpaper; she could almost draw Zhong Qing’s features from memory.

Zhong Qing also liked taking photos of Dong Huaci. But she wasn’t as enthusiastic as Dong Huaci; she never made them public, never posted them, and never printed them. Sometimes she was even stingy and reluctant to send them to Dong Huaci. Her photography seemed to return to the original purpose of the craft: to record beauty.

Just as Dong Huaci’s mind was wandering, Zhong Qing opened her eyes.

Today’s Zhong Qing was different from the last few times; she met Dong Huaci’s dazed gaze directly.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, yet Dong Huaci had already stood up and was walking toward her.

Zhong Qing’s expression showed no shock; instead, it was a complex mix of “wait and see” and “look at you, getting capable.” To the surprise of everyone present, including Zhong Qing, Dong Huaci had no intention of speaking to her. Instead, she spoke to the makeup artist at Zhong Qing’s side:

“Sister, I couldn’t help but watch for a bit. Don’t blame me for being talkative, but this eyeshadow color and technique makes her look a bit dark.”

Dong Huaci was standing extremely close to Zhong Qing now, yet it was as if an invisible layer of glass separated them—unreachable and unbreakable.

Zhong Qing withdrew her gaze, lowering her eyes slightly to stare at the floor, listening as Dong Huaci described the details to the makeup artist: “Your touch on the inner corners of the eyes is too heavy. It needs to be a bit lighter…”

This strange scene was interrupted by Zhong Qing’s manager, Fu Hong. She stepped forward, her expression the pinnacle of a “fake smile”: “Teacher Dong, let the professionals do the professional work. Why don’t you stop worrying about our artist? Our team has its own aesthetic judgment.”

Dong Huaci let out an “Ah,” as if waking from a dream. “But…”

Fu Hong shot another glare at the young girl, who clearly looked like an apprentice who had just been promoted. The makeup artist, caught in the crossfire, was visibly exhausted despite her age. She ignored Fu Hong’s overbearing manner and spoke kindly to Dong Huaci: “I’ll try your suggestions in a moment, Teacher Dong. We also have to consult with the artist’s team here. Please wait a bit longer, and I’ll do your makeup next.”

“It’s fine. Just do the eye makeup according to what she said.”

Zhong Qing suddenly spoke up.

Immediately, the central figure—who had remained silent until now—ignored Sister Hong’s darkening face. Instead, her eyes swept over Dong Huaci quite obviously, as if she hadn’t just spoken up for her, but rather as if they shared a deep-seated hatred. It was as if she simply didn’t want someone clinging to her or wasting time arguing.

…

She remembered now; they really did seem to have some deep-seated hatred.

This was their first time interacting so calmly in a semi-public setting since they lost contact.

Dong Huaci felt an inexplicable sense of guilt under Zhong Qing’s wolf-like, scrutinizing gaze. She had truly acted on a whim, simply unable to stand the makeup artist giving Zhong Qing an unsuitable look—perhaps she also wanted to repay Zhong Qing for not letting personal grudges stop her from helping during the awards ceremony. Or perhaps, it was a kind of… instinct?

She felt a responsibility toward Zhong Qing’s matters… an instinct?

In this irrational situation, she somehow gained a bit of momentum. Dong Huaci let out a long sigh, tilted her head, and said quite openly, “Teacher Zhong, is there something wrong with you looking at me like that?”

In her heart, Dong Huaci thought: You act tough, I’ll act innocent. That should work.

“Senior Dong Huaci.” Zhong Qing gave a light smile, her coldness softening by thirty percent, replaced by a genuine politeness. “On the road of acting, I still must call Teacher Dong a senior. Thank you for the makeup advice.”

It was a perfectly respectful sentence, yet she voiced it in a very strange way. Even so, when Zhong Qing feigned respect, she could pull it off. Her “changing faces” on stage had always been praised; she could act fierce one second and smile with pure relief the next. She could perform through extreme pain and shed a single tear, and the next day’s headlines would be full of Zhong Qing’s “exquisite fragility.”

Have we finally reached the point where we need to be overtly polite?

Dong Huaci fled from this conclusion, and even more from the fact that she was half responsible for it. She didn’t give a very dignified reply. Under the gaze of the crowd, she returned to Qiao Yi’s side like a fish that couldn’t be caught, leaving behind only the light flutter of a black hem.