Chapter 1

When Zhou Siyou climbed into the Bentley, it was like a gust of wind sweeping through the car.

The driver up front shot her a glance and twisted the cap onto her thermos a little tighter. “Sister Siyou, the film festival’s over?”

Zhou Siyou gave a vague grunt.

The driver knew her artist hadn’t won an award tonight and was in a foul mood, so she didn’t press further.

“Then, Sister Siyou, where should we head to now…?”

Before the word “to” could even land, a violent crash erupted from the front of the car.

Screeeech.

An impressively technical sideswipe. On a purely physical level, the two cars had missed each other, but the squeeze of compressed air between their bodies produced a noise that rang out loud and clear.

A sound impossible to ignore.

A Cullinan had braked hard right in front of them, cutting off their path.

A woman pushed open the Cullinan’s passenger door and stepped out, unhurried and graceful.

A pristine white gown, a radiant smile, long black hair falling in soft curls.

Yu Ning.

Zhou Siyou wasn’t close with this woman, but they were bitter rivals for the same resources.

They were the same age, and their careers kept colliding. After enough collisions, their fans went to war, and the two of them grew to despise each other too.

Colloquially known as “rivals.”

At this very moment, even at the outermost edge of the festival venue, even with the Golden Hundred Film Festival already concluded, Yu Ning still had to fulfill her duty as a “rival” and block her way.

To provoke her.

Couldn’t be helped, really. After all, in the fight for awards at tonight’s festival, Yu Ning was the one who had won in the end, wasn’t she?

This was the opening shot of Yu Ning’s comeback after marriage, and she needed someone to make an example of.

She’d picked Zhou Siyou.

Inside the car, Zhou Siyou glanced at Yu Ning, swept a hand through her hair, and without another word stepped out.

White flashes burst around her, and camera shutters clattered away in her ears without pause.

“Zhou Siyou, you left so quickly just now…” Yu Ning frowned, her tone mild but her expression blatantly smug. “I didn’t even get a chance to chat with you.”

She raised her hand with a smile, offering a friendly handshake.

“So you slunk off early because you were just there to fill a seat?” Only as they drew close did a mocking barb slip past those red lips. The diamond-studded nail deliberately dragged across the back of Zhou Siyou’s hand. “Another year as a runner-up. How does it feel?”

Yes, this was the second year Zhou Siyou had gone home empty-handed.

No Best Newcomer last year, and she hadn’t even touched Best Supporting Role this year.

This rookie actress, hyped by her fans as “the entertainment industry’s dark horse,” had no actual trophies to her name.

So the moment she walked out of the festival hall, she was trending again under the mocking hashtag #AlwaysTheBridesmaid.

But the person being mocked didn’t seem to care much.

At Yu Ning’s words, she only said flatly, “If you hadn’t mentioned it, I’d have forgotten.”

The ceremony had ended minutes ago, and she claimed to have forgotten? Who would believe that?

Yu Ning gave a low snort. “Because you’re used to losing, is that it?”

“Ah, not quite.” Zhou Siyou shook her head indifferently. “I just don’t care.”

Yu Ning arched an eyebrow and delivered her verdict. “Putting on an act.”

She crossed her arms, tilted her chin up arrogantly, and lowered her voice. “Zhou Siyou, when I stepped back from the industry to get married, you happened to debut. You trailed behind me, scooping up the resources I dropped, quietly competing with me at every turn. And now we’re finally facing off in the open—”

“Oh, let me ask you something.” Yu Ning smiled. “How does it feel, losing to me?”

She looked at Zhou Siyou with a smile.

But the other woman seemed entirely immune to the provocation, smiling back with complete ease.

“Finished?” Zhou Siyou asked, eyes curving.

The next second, the conversation took a sharp turn.

“So, Yu Ning. You blocked my car just to say all this worthless nonsense?”

Yu Ning’s eyes went wide, a flicker of stunned disbelief in their depths.

“What does your marriage have to do with me? What does you losing resources have to do with me? What does your comeback have to do with me? What does you winning an award have to do with me?”

Zhou Siyou didn’t give her a chance to respond, firing off four questions in rapid succession, her tone biting. “Am I your [bleep] or your [bleep], that I have to [bleep] your [bleep]? People are off the clock and you still [bleep] a pile of [bleep], don’t you think you’re being [bleep]?…”

Zhou Siyou had a bit of a knack for arguments. While Yu Ning was still reeling, she unilaterally ended the battle with a parting shot.

“You’re the one who crashed into me begging for it. Haha, that came out a bit harsh. Don’t take it personally, okay?”

Before returning to her car, she pointed a finger at the Cullinan. “Oh, and move your car.”

“Or I’ll ram right into it.”

With that, Zhou Siyou climbed back into her seat.

The Bentley’s high beams and low beams flashed in orderly alternation, blinding every reporter and paparazzo near the venue, along with Yu Ning’s eyes.

Under the “Golden Hundred Film Festival” trending topic, the fan threads were blowing up.

#ZhouSiyou: The Entertainment Industry’s #1 Cocky Runner-Up

#BREAKING: ZhouSiyou Got Into A FIGHT Again!!!

“Whoa, that moment when Zhou Siyou and Yu Ning shook hands took me right back to the era of celebrity feuds…”

“These two crash into each other over resources online and literally crash cars offline. Iconic.”

“Come, come, listen to the audio the paparazzi posted.”

“What does your marriage have to do with me? What does you losing resources have to do with me? What does your comeback have to do with me? What does you winning an award have to do with me?… Am I your [bleep] or your [bleep], that I have to [bleep] your [bleep]? People are off the clock and you still [bleep] a pile of [bleep], don’t you think you’re being [bleep]?…”

“…”

“…………..”

“I can feel the verbal beating through my screen…”

“Yu Ning was totally shell-shocked. My heart goes out to our Little White Flower.”

“What is Zhou Siyou even good at besides running her mouth?… Oh right, she’s good at losing. Hahaha…”

“Zhou Siyou, that mouth of yours!!” The Bentley rolled smoothly down the road, and in the passenger seat, her talent agent was fuming beyond words, jabbing a finger at Zhou Siyou with the look of someone utterly done with her potential.

“Ancestor, we didn’t even win an award today. We’ve got zero footing to stand on. Can you not have an episode right now?”

Zhou Siyou showed not the slightest awareness of having done anything wrong, and only shot back, “Head Agent Fang, you were right there at the scene. Why were you hiding in the crowd, saying nothing? Your artist gets into an argument in public, and you don’t even try to stop it?”

After a few seconds of buck-passing, she muttered, “Whatever. Even if you had tried to stop me, I’d have argued anyway. She’s the one who came crashing in. Only an idiot passes up a fight she’s handed.”

The agent: “…”

The agent sighed. “Like I care who crashed into whom first. Yu Ning’s paparazzi are all over the place, so naturally the leaks will spin things her way. Paparazzi are masters at twisting words out of context, and you know that better than anyone.”

“To everyone else, it looks like Yu Ning just wanted a friendly handshake, and you unloaded a whole tirade on her and suffocated the poor woman.”

Zhou Siyou fell silent.

It was late now. The colored lights along the roadside flowed across her face. The streets were bright after the rain had cleared; the autumn leaves in the puddles had lost their deep red, leaving only black.

Agent Fang Ming asked abruptly, “Zhou Siyou, I know losing again must have stung. About today, actually…”

“Hm? It didn’t.”

To her surprise, Zhou Siyou lifted her head, blinking, and denied it outright. “I’m in a great mood today.”

Fang Ming: “…?”

Zhou Siyou gave a fake little cough, propped her chin on her hand, and turned toward the window.

“Really, I’m in a great mood. A really great one,” she murmured.

Zhou Siyou would swear this was the best day she’d had since her debut.

Because just a few hours ago, on the Golden Hundred Film Festival’s red carpet, she had seen someone she’d thought she’d never lay eyes on again in this lifetime.

The instant the thought surfaced, Zhou Siyou could almost hear it again: the thunderous, earth-shaking clatter of shutters on that red carpet.

Amid the storm of camera flashes, a young woman in a pale blue gown glided past, her makeup faint, her expression fainter still.

Such a clean, unadorned face. Such a gentle pair of eyes.

Her features were serene, her demeanor distant, hopelessly out of place amid the dazzling glamour of the red carpet.

“Zhong Qing.”

That was what the reporters called her, over the deafening roar of shutters.

Zhou Siyou looked over, feeling faintly dazed.

Among the guests, she hadn’t yet taken her seat, and like everyone else in that hall, her gaze had inevitably, unfailingly landed on Zhong Qing.

Zhong Qing did not look her way.

From beginning to end, she cast her gaze at no one.

The red carpet bloomed with competing splendor, and the woman in the pale blue gown passed through the riot of color like a colorless breeze skimming over the flowers.

As she passed Zhou Siyou, the indifference on her face never wavered.

One brief moment. Then she was gone.