Qiao Qi was so annoyed by Liang Yan that she simply didn’t reply to his messages, tossed her phone aside, and went to shower. By the time she got back, the whole atmosphere of the work group chat had changed completely.
Aide Shi: Ah.
Aide Shi: Qiao Qi and Mr. Liang are trending.
Wu Shuang: I saw it!!!
Wu Shuang: The comment section’s all saying how sweet and well-matched you two are!
Qiao Qi paused, about to switch over to Weibo to check what exactly was trending, when a message popped up in the group.
Ming Yan: Am I dead or something?
Ming Yan: What rumors are you people spreading here?
Ming Yan: I don’t care about my reputation, but Teacher Qiao does!
Qiao Qi: “…”
Whether you actually care about your reputation, or you’re just trying to distance yourself, only you know for sure.
Too lazy to keep watching this group, Qiao Qi switched over to Weibo instead, and sure enough, spotted two related trending topics on the list — #Yanyun Manor Set Photos# and #Qiao Qi Liang Yan Sweet#.
Qiao Qi tapped straight into the second one and found a very blurry video — she couldn’t quite make out either of their makeup, hair, or costume details clearly, but she could see the movements and gestures between the two of them.
—In it, Qiao Qi lay on a lounge chair, with Liang Yan bent over beside her, seemingly saying something to her, then placing something on her stomach.
Ordinarily, this clip wouldn’t have amounted to much — but precisely because it was so blurry, it left plenty of room for imagination.
So the comment section was full of things like:
【AHHHHHHHH did I actually live to see Mr. Liang playing gentleman toward a fellow actress on set?!】
[Sis, I also went AHHH, but this isn’t playing gentleman, isn’t this just basic courtesy?]
[Something wrong up there? Go watch a few clips on the streaming site and then come back and call Mr. Liang a gentleman.]
[…Sorry, I’m back, Mr. Liang’s such a jerk! I love it!]
【Giao! How are they this well-matched!!】
【Shipping it, shipping it, thank you thank you, may you live a long and healthy life】
【Inside info, apparently Qiao 7 was on her period, and Mr. Liang specifically got her a hot water bag】
[Didn’t tell her to drink more hot water? Mr. Liang’s really come a long way!]
[Hahahahahaha, PTSD from that one variety show]
[What variety show? What variety show?]
【Variety show explainer: a fellow actress happened to be on her period, but the game rules required dumping cold water on people; it was Mr. Liang’s turn to dump it, so he dumped it and then asked: want something hot to drink? He kept asking until the actress got fed up, and Mr. Liang, in full survival-instinct mode, added: or should we swap out the game’s cold water for hot water instead? Hahahahahaha I’m dying laughing!】
[? How rude, I don’t see what’s funny about it, you’re a woman too, don’t you know how awful period pain is?]
[???]
[What’s going on up there?]
【Variety show fact-check update: the actress herself is the liar here, she’d always played up a tough-as-nails image in interviews, swearing she never gets period cramps at all. And! On that particular episode, the actress clung to Mr. Liang the entire time, one minute complaining of a headache, the next minute a stomachache. Mr. Liang tried at first to convince her to rest — she was the one who refused to rest, all for the sake of screen time 🙂】
[That’s right, that’s right, I watched that episode! The day it aired the whole internet ran coordinated press releases dragging Mr. Liang into it, made me want to throw up]
And after that… the comment section was entirely taken over by these kinds of discussions.
As for Qiao Qi herself, it was as if she’d only been briefly showered with love before all the attention shifted entirely onto Liang Yan.
And then… Liang Yan ended up trending, under the full topic name: #Liang Yan Disrespects Women#.
Qiao Qi: “…”
That was quite the pot to be handed.
She immediately switched over to the WeChat group, and sure enough, the mood there had shifted too.
Guo Lingling: Um.
Guo Lingling: Even though Mr. Liang’s usually not that serious, he definitely doesn’t mean any disrespect toward women!
Guo Lingling: I can vouch for that!
Xu Ruou: Me too, me too! Mr. Liang’s really a gentleman! That day coming back from the KTV he specifically had the front desk send us hangover soup!
Guo Lingling: That’s right! When we ordered crawfish that other day, he specifically ordered both spicy and five-spice, because I can’t handle spicy food!
Wu Shuang: …That day when I was drunk and out of control, Mr. Liang made a point of avoiding my waist while steadying me, because I was wearing a crop top that day.
Qiao Qi read through all of it and suddenly realized every single thing they said was true. Liang Yan might seem careless every day, with no filter at all on what he said, but his actual conduct really was hard to find fault with.
He never crossed the line between men and women, and never used his looks to take advantage of anyone. His face alone was the kind that could get him forgiven for nearly anything, yet he never let things stay ambiguous with anyone.
He even seemed to enjoy using his careless manner to disguise this quiet, careful seriousness underneath.
He looked like he had no idea what he was doing, but really, he understood exactly what he was doing.
Thinking this over, Qiao Qi once again felt that subtle sense of pride and smugness rising in her chest.
…Truly subtle.
So she blinked, pushed down these inexplicable and hard-to-admit feelings, and went back into the group a second time to join in on the Liang Yan discussion.
Cheng Yanyun: True.
Cheng Yanyun: Not only did he bring me a hot water bag, he even poured me hot water.
Cheng Yanyun: And used a disposable cup, too.
Cheng Yanyun: He was very respectful toward me.
Cheng Yanyun: Thanks.
Whenever someone else praised Liang Yan, he’d reply with things like: I only sent the hangover soup because I was afraid you’d all collectively go on strike the next day and the director would come yell at me.
Ming Yan: Huh? There’s a spicy and a five-spice version? Didn’t know that, I just told the shop owner to send some of everything, he probably split it up himself.
Ming Yan: Kids don’t have waists to speak of.
But when it came to Qiao Qi, all he sent was a long string of enlarged ellipses.
Ming Yan: ……
Cheng Yanyun: [laugh]
Ming Yan: …Just a small effort.
Ming Yan: I would’ve done the same for anyone else in the crew.
Ming Yan: Teacher Qiao, please don’t read too much into it.
Before Qiao Qi could even respond, the group exploded with a rapid string of messages.
Xu Ruou: Mr. Liang, next week I’m on my period.
Guo Lingling: Mine’s the week after.
Wu Shuang: I… mine’s next month.
[System notice: Ming Yan has left the group]
Xu Ruou: …
Guo Lingling: …
Wu Shuang: …
Qiao Qi: “…”
That was quite the survival instinct on display.
So, in the spirit of watching a good show unfold, Qiao Qi used her secondary account to go bother her friend Li’ang.
7: Your idol’s trending, babe.
Liangou: Saw it.
Liangou: I’m not blind.
7: Wow.
7: Such an attitude?
7: Not happy about it?
Liangou: No.
Liangou: He hasn’t been in the industry long, but he’s already weathered plenty of storms.
Liangou: Right when he debuted, wasn’t he already accused of getting there through family connections?
Liangou: Not long ago he got called rude over some interview, people spreading rumors that his degree must be fake — how could someone who actually studied abroad be so rude?
Liangou: Oh.
Liangou: And there are people saying he’s got a bad temper, too arrogant, thinks he’s above everyone else!
Qiao Qi: “…”
Reading between the lines, it sounded like there wasn’t really a “not happy” about it in the first place.
Qiao Qi, who’d originally planned on teasing him a little more, suddenly found herself unable to say anything. She recalled that night she’d found out Li’ang was Liang Yan, how disbelief and shock had kept her up half the night, until she’d finally just pulled up her phone and started scrolling videos, and ended up scrolling straight through Liang Yan’s entire three years in the spotlight.
Three years — in just three years, Liang Yan had gone from a completely fresh newcomer to someone at the top with both fame and genuine skill.
In this country, there’s a strange and puzzling phenomenon — everyone looks down on “traffic” stars.
As if being a traffic star is itself a sin, as if traffic equals shallow, as if traffic just means a vase propped up by fans’ spending money.
These “vases” are pretty, beautiful, but fragile.
And good for nothing else.
No one pays attention to the hard work and effort these stars put in along the way — the public only sees the flowers and applause that come with their overnight fame, never the inspiring struggle stacked up beneath it, and so they throw hat after hat of “unworthy of the position” at them.
Liang Yan had gone through that phase too. But unlike those flash-in-the-pan stars who really did live up to what everyone said about traffic stars, Liang Yan seemed to have broken through those obstacles fairly quickly — he didn’t have many works to his name, but every single one won awards, and he climbed higher, step by step.
Finally becoming what everyone now called a genuinely skilled actor.
But it’s lonely at the top — being in a high position means every move gets picked apart under a magnifying glass.
After all, the one thing everyone in this world is best at is holding everyone but themselves to impossibly high standards.
…Sigh.
Looking at the chat window, an entire page full of messages sent from the other side, Qiao Qi quietly reached up and covered her own chest.
It was nothing.
Just — for some reason, her chest suddenly felt a little tight.
She lowered her eyes, pressing her lips together over and over, wondering whether she should say something nice to cheer him up. But before she could figure out exactly what to say, she saw another string of messages come in.
Liangou: Your idol’s going to go through all this too, someday.
Liangou: Given her background and her looks, it’ll probably be even worse for her than it was for Liang Yan.
Liangou: Condolences in advance.
Qiao Qi: “…………”
Who’s worried about you, my ass!
7: Never mind the background — what’s wrong with her looks??
7: If you don’t explain yourself clearly today, we’re headed straight to the doghouse.
Liangou: …Would you look at yourself.
Liangou: Not composed at all.
7: You’re one to talk about composure, weren’t you just rambling nonstop a second ago?
7: Did you really think the internet has no memory?
7: [screenshot]
7: [screenshot]
Liangou: …
Liangou: Has Qiao Qi ever actually paid you anything?
Liangou: How much?
7: Sorry.
7: All her money’s with me.
Liangou: ?
Liangou: Definitely not more than mine.
Liangou: [location]
Liangou: Come find me right now, and it’s all yours.
Qiao Qi glanced at the location, a cold smile crossing her face.
She’d almost thought he’d actually sent her his real location — turns out it was the nearest police station.
7: …So petty.
Liangou: Yeah, I’m petty.
Liangou: Our first meeting, I’m definitely setting it at a police station.
Liangou: Hmph!
Qiao Qi couldn’t help imagining Liang Yan right now, curled up in bed, his face lit by the cold glow of his phone, letting out that “hmph,” and couldn’t stop herself from bursting out laughing.
Only after she finished laughing did she realize she’d just found Liang Yan adorable.
…Found a man adorable.
Qiao Qi went quiet for a moment, suddenly not sure what to say.
But to show she was still there, all she could manage was a string of ellipses.
Which only earned her an even more smug, petulant response from the other side.
Liangou: Can’t find the words?
Liangou: Feeling guilty?
Liangou: Hmph!
7: …………….
What’s there to hmph about.
Acting like a pig.
Qiao Qi laughed again, then finally asked seriously.
7: Enough with the “hmph,” hurry up and explain what’s wrong with Qiao Qi’s looks.
The other side shot back five characters without any hesitation.
Liangou: Too much firepower.
Oh.
7: You mean she’s so beautiful it’s infuriating?
Liangou: …Yes, yes, yes.
Liangou: Your idol’s the most beautiful.
Liangou: So beautiful that men and women across the entire universe would fall for her.
Liangou: Not counting me.
Liangou: I only fall for you.
Qiao Qi: “…”
Looks like he really wasn’t upset after all.
Since that was the case, then they might as well wish each other goodnight, peacefully and amicably.
—
This was the first time Liang Yan had ever received a call from Liang Xumo at such a late hour. Probably about the trending topic. Liang Yan glanced at the caller ID, didn’t pick up right away, and instead sent a voice message to his pinned “Student Number 7” on his personal WeChat first — goodnight, get some rest early — before tossing that phone aside and turning to take the family call.
The moment he answered, though, what came through wasn’t his sister’s usual gentle, soft voice, but his father’s booming, quick-to-explode roar.
“What’s going on! Something like this actually made it to the trending topics? Everything I taught you growing up about manners and decorum, did you feed it all to the dogs?”
“I’ve told you eight hundred times, what kind of business is the entertainment industry? Besides quick cash, what else could you possibly want out of it?”
“Just want a bunch of little girls fawning over how handsome you are, day after day? Even if you’re handsome, whose face did you get it from — mine, that’s whose!”
Hearing this, Young Master Liang gave a not entirely agreeing “tsk.” “Actually, that one has more to do with Mom, if we’re being honest.”
Father Liang’s booming voice launched into another round of ranting about this and that — words Liang Yan had heard plenty of times ever since his first day stepping into the entertainment industry, and by now he could let them go in one ear and out the other completely. Once his arm got tired holding the phone, he just put it on speaker on the desk and went about his own business.
By the time the voice on the other end finally switched to Liang Xumo’s, Liang Yan let out a sigh. “Impressive lung capacity.”
Liang Xumo laughed, then asked a couple of things too. “I saw the trending topic. You and Qiao Qi seem quite close?”
“Not really.” Not sure why, but ever since he’d vaguely started to suspect something, Qiao Qi seemed to be everywhere around him lately, impossible to avoid no matter how hard he tried.
“Well, close or not, this project’s about to wrap anyway.” Liang Xumo, for some reason, suddenly seemed interested in the entertainment world today, the conversation circling back to it again and again. “You’re about to wrap soon, right? This show’s probably going to blow up, isn’t it? Qiao Qi’s likely to gain a lot from it — by then, with your status roughly matched, it might be hard for you two to work together again.”
“What do you mean, roughly matched status? How many projects have I done compared to her?” Liang Yan found this strange. “Why does everyone seem so bullish on her?”
“Hmm? Someone else said something similar?” But Liang Xumo didn’t seem particularly interested in who that “someone else” was; she just laughed. “It’s not that I’m bullish on her, just curious, asking a couple extra questions. Look at you — who could possibly out-shine our little young master, anyway?”
Liang Yan wasn’t in the mood for that kind of talk today, and simply told his sister, seriously, that he was fine, no need to worry, and that their father shouldn’t worry either that he’d end up unable to land work or make money because of all this gossip and be forced to slink home with his tail between his legs to take over the company.
After hanging up, Liang Xumo sighed helplessly toward Father Liang. “Actually, Yan’s doing really well right now.”
Father Liang scoffed. “Then all that finance and management he studied for twenty years, was that just for nothing? If it doesn’t line up with his career, isn’t that basically the same as wasting twenty years of his life?”
Liang Xumo stiffened for a moment, then smiled, somewhat unnaturally.
Only then did Father Liang realize that Liang Xumo herself hadn’t actually studied finance and management either — not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she hadn’t managed to get into that program back then, and had ended up settling for something finance-adjacent instead: accounting.
The fact that she could manage the company so competently now was, naturally, quite unexpected — and of course, that had taken a great deal of hard work behind the scenes too.
“Xiao Mo, I didn’t mean anything by that just now.” Father Liang looked a little awkward.
Liang Xumo smiled. “Of course not. If it weren’t for you, Dad, I have no idea where I’d be right now. Forget the company, forget school — even just eating and staying alive would’ve been a struggle.”
Father Liang frowned. “Don’t talk like that.”
Liang Xumo smiled again. “Okay, okay, I know you don’t like hearing that kind of thing.”
Only then did Father Liang reach out and pat Liang Xumo’s head. “Good, as long as you know. Xiao Mo, you can’t keep dwelling on the past like this. You’re our daughter, the Liang family’s daughter, no question about it, you hear me?”
Liang Xumo nodded firmly. “I know!”
Father Liang sighed again. “And come to think of it, it really has been hard on you, a young girl running yourself ragged handling all the company’s affairs day in and day out. And that brat of a son of mine — I have no idea what good fortune he racked up in a past life to end up with such a good big sister — and he doesn’t even know how to appreciate it, honestly, it makes me so angry!”
Seeing that Father Liang could work himself up into a fury over just a few sentences, Liang Xumo found it funny. “Okay, Dad, he’s a grown man now, just leave him be.”
“And who ends up dealing with everything if you don’t manage him? Sooner or later I’m going to drag him back here — once he’s actually running things himself, he’ll finally understand how hard you’ve had it managing everything on his behalf all this time.”
Hearing this, Liang Xumo only smiled, no significant change in her expression.
Having said his piece, Father Liang stood up. “All right, it’s a rare weekend, I won’t keep you from resting. Go to sleep early, all right?”
“Mm, okay. Goodnight, Dad.”
After seeing Father Liang off, Liang Xumo slowly sat back down on her sofa. She wasn’t in a hurry to change or wash up — instead, she sat in silence, her fingers picking at the edge of the sofa cushion again and again, until her nail cracked and a wave of pain shot through her, and she abruptly pulled her hand back and stuck it into her mouth.
The metallic scent of blood filled her nose, so strong it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
Yet to Liang Xumo, this scent felt like a long-lost, all-too-familiar sensation, as if it had instantly pulled her back over a decade, to that scar-covered past.
After a long while, she gently pulled out her hand, the bleeding already stopped, stared at her fingertip as if greeting an old friend, and finally, using her injured hand, picked up her phone and sent Cheng Yueming a message.
[Let me know when you all wrap up — I’ll come by the set to see you.]
[I want to bring you all a wrap gift.]
Author’s Note: Awkward timing, but I’ve got things going on tomorrow too, so if the update isn’t on time, don’t wait up for it. I’ll try to make it up (maybe) in the middle of the night.