Chapter 7

Chapter 7: 007 – Another Day of Telling Beauty Qiao to Quit

That afternoon, the online discussion about the “casting couch scandal” took another dramatic turn.

“Solid proof: the one with the director last night wasn’t that Xu-surnamed young actress. It was a washed-up Q-surnamed actress.”

“Photos and truth.”

“A washed-up Q-surnamed celebrity, desperate to get famous, climbed into bed as a third party and tried to break up someone’s family.”

Photos. Chat logs. “Evidence” stacked like bricks, thrown at the same target until it became a wall.

Netizens, thrilled to find a place to vent, turned their rage in a single direction.

“I knew it. Director Liu has a wife and kids. He definitely wouldn’t do something like that. Turns out he was set up.”

“Poor Jing Jing. She got dragged in for nothing just because she looks like her.”

“I hope that Qiao person knows her place and quits already. Stop hanging around and harming people.”

“I think she’ll do anything just to get famous. Strongly demand the film judging panel re-examine this. Someone with bad character shouldn’t even qualify.”

“Exactly. Don’t think you can buy everyone over with some public-service short film from four or five years ago. With character like that, what right do you have to shoot a public-service film? It’s an insult.”

“Strong condemnation…”

Someone who’d attended the same dinner posted anonymously, claiming that a certain Q-surnamed actress had flirted at the directors’ table more than once, then used drunkenness as an excuse to leave early.

In an instant, the two people involved in the hotel scandal were washed clean.

The director became the victim who’d been set up.

Xu Shu Jing became the innocent bystander, dragged in because of a resemblance.

And Qiao Qing Yan—the one the entire internet screamed at to quit—became the villain who would do anything.

Even the public-service short film nominated for that night’s award caught fire by association.

In the hotel’s glittering restaurant, beside a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, a breathtaking beauty sat with lazy composure.

A white phone rested in her hand. Red nails tapped softly against the case, the rhythm almost musical.

“Miss Qiao,” a voice said through the line, careful, strained. “If the online matter has nothing to do with you, we hope you can post a clarification. Otherwise… it may affect the judging panel’s decision.”

Qiao Qing Yan didn’t raise her voice.

“If that’s the case,” she said, crisp and clear, “then what’s the meaning of an award?”

Her tone was like jade struck against stone—bright, ringing, impossible to ignore.

“If the truth or lies of rumors require the person involved to clarify before your judges can decide, then why give awards at all?”

Silence.

By the time the call ended, whoever sat on the other end still didn’t dare breathe too loudly.

“You’re getting more and more reckless.” A man’s voice drifted in, soft and deliberately dramatic.

A man in a frilly shirt slid into the chair across from Qiao Qing Yan, wrist bent in an exaggerated pose. He was pretty in a sharp, theatrical way, his movements all flourish.

“Do you know what you just said might make your award disappear tonight?” he demanded, eyes wide with irritation. “Why couldn’t you just endure it? Everyone’s not blind—those photos are ‘solid proof.'”

Qiao Qing Yan looked at him without much interest.

The moment she lifted her head, he let out a startled, disgusted sound. “Ugh—You…”

He pointed at the corner of her eye. “Didn’t you say that red mole was bad for you? Messed with your luck? You even paid a huge price to get it removed. Why did you stick a fake one on today?”

Qiao Qing Yan lifted a hand, brushed the teardrop beauty mark beneath her eye, and smiled faintly.

“Don’t you think it looks better this way?”

He scoffed, but the words slipped out with grudging appreciation anyway. “Like an enchantress who can seduce hearts.”

Then he stood, threw his hands up, and waved like he was dismissing the entire world. “I’m leaving. I’m done serving this damn entertainment industry.”

He stalked out with dramatic hips and an even more dramatic attitude.

A moment later, Qiao Qing Yan’s assistant hurried in—a clumsy-looking girl with glasses, cheeks flushed from searching.

“Sister Yan, so you’re here. I’ve been looking everywhere for you…”

She glanced toward the exit, eyes widening. “Wasn’t that Brother Ji? I heard he fell out with his company. He’s leaving the Capital to go back to Cloud City.”

Qiao Qing Yan offered a noncommittal hum.

The assistant quickly swallowed her gossip and got to the point.

“Sister Yan, let’s go. The company’s car is waiting downstairs.”

The award ceremony started at five-thirty. The red carpet alone would run for nearly two hours.

Someone like Qiao Qing Yan—a washed-up actress—was scheduled far back, near the end where cameras grew impatient and attention thinned.

With her current reputation, she shouldn’t have been invited to an event like this at all.

In the past few years, she’d had no film or TV work, only notoriety.

The only reason she still existed in the industry was because she kept riding other people’s hype—and collecting hate.

This time, though, the company needed her.

To push Xu Shu Jing, they planned to use Qiao Qing Yan as the stepping stone. They’d even used a few tricks to shove an old public-service short film—one that had never been announced for reasons years ago—into the judging panel.

Qiao Qing Yan reached for the van’s door handle.

Then she paused.