Chapter 38: Offended

The Ex-Girlfriend’s Current Girlfriend

At the same time, Bo Wuxue sent another link. Clicking on any of them at random led to either sexy lingerie or all sorts of exotic finger cots.

Bo Wuxue was incredibly proud: 【Look, these are all my designs. Sales are amazing. Some haven’t even hit the shelves yet—you get to try them first. No one else gets them. I’m a good enough friend to you, right? (SisterlyBond.jpg)】

The Bo Family had groomed Bo Wuxue from a young age. Perfume, jewelry, formal gowns—not one was omitted. Who could have guessed that the designer-in-chief, ostensibly all about luxury and elegance, was also making major waves in sexy lingerie design behind the scenes?

Recently, Bo Wuxue wasn’t satisfied with just that and also set her sights on small toys. She constantly had bizarre, inventive ideas, and every single product sold out.

Xing Yue was genuinely impressed. Under that multi-layered house arrest, Bo Wuxue still managed to secretly open a private factory and grow a business empire.

“Why don’t you try them out with your fiancée? Spice up the relationship a bit,” Xing Yue replied with a voice message.

Since their one brief meeting at the engagement party, Bo Wuxue and her fiancée hadn’t met a second time.

“Ah, well, I heard from others,” Bo Wuxue said, sounding somewhat troubled, unable to hold back a complaint. “She apparently had a childhood sweetheart. I think they might have dated. Being engaged to me now is probably just family pressure. It’s meaningless.”

Their engagement was purely a political alliance between families. There were no feelings to begin with, and after hearing those rumors, Bo Wuxue felt even less inclined to foster any bond.

“Whatever the case, you still need to make things clear. Dragging things out isn’t good.”

Xing Yue advised her for a bit but didn’t push further. After all, they were already engaged. With the Bo Family’s status and position, this wasn’t something Bo Wuxue could annul just because she felt like it.

After chatting for a while, she drove to pick up Tan Xiang’e. She waited at the community entrance briefly, and soon Tan Xiang’e emerged, laden with bags of all sizes.

New Shadow Entertainment’s rules stipulated each person could only bring one personal assistant. Xing Yue was the only candidate the company recommended. New Shadow had also signed other artists, and they were all going to the training camp together.

They would be representing New Shadow Entertainment in the competition.

Xing Yue had to give this assistant slot to Tan Xiang’e; otherwise, she couldn’t get her in.

“I’ve never seen celebrities before. Who else is with you? If I see a big star, can I ask for an autograph?” Tan Xiang’e loaded her things into the trunk, got in the car, looking somewhat excited.

Xing Yue recalled the list she received last night: “Two are actresses, Lan Qianqian and Mi Ning. Another is an internet celebrity, goes by something like Great White Shark.”

The former was once hailed as a natural choice for period dramas, having starred in only two big hits before fading. Now she was just warming up leftovers, hoping for a comeback.

The other was an idol-style, J-pop sweetheart who debuted overseas through a talent show. Since returning to the country, she’d been lukewarm at best. Currently, in domestic entertainment, no female star of this type was a real heavy hitter, so New Shadow would likely push her heavily.

Great White Shark was an internet celebrity, practically the same level as Xing Yue in status, though their natures were different. Xing Yue was a cover singer; Great White Shark got famous through short video cosplay transitions. Mass-market, fast food stuff without many dedicated fans.

Hearing none of her favorites were in the lineup, Tan Xiang’e abandoned the autograph idea but remained excited throughout the journey.

Upon arriving at the destination, someone specifically guided them to their accommodations. The entire building belonged to New Shadow Entertainment, with five middle floors serving as the training facility. Living quarters were on the sixteenth floor.

The four of them were arranged on the same floor. The main room had everything, and the adjacent small room was for the assistant—exceptionally luxurious in design.

Many trainees faced terrible conditions before debut, crammed into a dorm with several others. In comparison, New Shadow’s treatment was generous. No wonder so many aspiring girls fought tooth and nail to get in.

After dropping off her things, Xing Yue was taken to the practice room. Inside, besides the three other artists, there were staff members, an instructor, and a woman who looked like upper management.

“You’re Xing Yue?” Luo Zhi’s eyes swept up and down before checking her documents. “No makeup? You look better than your photos. Why doesn’t the account your studio runs show your face? Sing a few lines a cappella for me.”

Having managed the company for years, Luo Zhi had a keen eye for people. A short interaction was enough for her to pinpoint a person’s strengths and craft their persona, discovering their highlights.

Xing Yue had no original work, so she sang a few lines from a familiar song.

Her breath control was steady, the lyrics on key. Anyone with a trained ear could tell the depth of her skill—it wasn’t just casual singing, but technical singing.

In this era, where trending online covers turned classics into basic pop songs, Xing Yue was a refreshing surprise.

But this voice…

Luo Zhi frowned, bluntly stating: “Your voice sounds different from your videos.”

In Xing Yue’s cover videos, her voice was very captivating—ethereal and magnetic. Why did it sound so rough and hoarse live?

“Cough…” Xing Yue cleared her throat lightly, saying simply, “Caught a chill. A bit of a cold.”

Thinking about how she’d been calling out in bed all night, Xing Yue’s ears burned. In hindsight, last night had truly been too crazy, utterly devoid of restraint.

From the side, Mi Ning let out a snide giggle, purring: “President Luo, you might not know this, but some singers have the nickname ‘Million-Dollar Sound Engineer.’ All that good sound is just machine-edited. Live performance? Of course it sounds different.”

Mi Ning was young and brash, used to being idolized overseas. She found it irritating to represent the company alongside internet celebrities like Xing Yue and Jiang Yue, thinking it degraded her own status.

Even in the training venue, she deliberately sat next to the moderately famous actress, giving Jiang Yue the cold shoulder and throwing sarcastic barbs at Xing Yue.

Hearing those words, everyone in the room unconsciously turned their eyes toward Xing Yue. Even Luo Zhi was curious what Xing Yue would say in rebuttal.

The result? Xing Yue’s eyes remained impassive. It was as if she hadn’t heard a thing, showing zero reaction.

Luo Zhi smoothed things over: “Alright. You’re all artists the company wants to push. The training period isn’t a competition. You need to help and learn from each other.”

Luo Zhi then brought out a box containing several folded slips of paper: “Inside are all songs the company spent money to license. For fairness, you’ll each draw your own track for the competition. Professional instructors will be here in two days to train you. Until then, you can trade tracks among yourselves.”

As for choreography, they had dedicated staff for that, capable of tailoring it each artist.

After explaining this, Luo Zhi left.

Today was just the first day, getting familiar with the environment, listening to staff introduce the competition process, and going over the required script. They had more than enough to keep them busy.

Xing Yue was lucky, drawing a recent massive hit. The original singer was a foreign diva; the company likely paid a fortune for it.

Mi Ning saw this and turned green with envy. She approached Xing Yue: “I feel my song might suit you better. Want to swap?”

Hearing this, Xing Yue glanced over. The song Mi Ning had drawn was a forty-year-old classic, very nostalgic and incredibly niche. Even forty years ago, not many people might have heard it. The original singer was also a foreign artist.

Xing Yue nodded: “Sure.”

Everyone in the room froze. Mi Ning froze too, stunned by how readily Xing Yue agreed. She hadn’t even expected Xing Yue to say yes; she’d only tried on the off chance it might work.

Jiang Yue, who’d been keeping a low profile, suddenly stepped forward: “Teacher Xing, there’s still two days. Why not try it out first before deciding? No rush.”

Jiang Yue had been ostracized and targeted from the moment she arrived. Hearing Xing Yue was also an internet celebrity, she thought they could stick together and had actively tried to befriend her.

These few remarks, however, offended Mi Ning.

“What’s it to you? You’re the most useless one here. Don’t think I don’t know how you got in,” Mi Ning rolled her eyes, speaking arrogantly. She reached out and snatched the slip from Xing Yue’s hand, shoving her own into Xing Yue’s palm.

Being called out in front of so many people, Jiang Yue’s eyes filled with dark shadows, yet her face displayed a gentle smile. Her emotional switch happened so fast it was almost imperceptible: “Sister Xiaoning is right. You’re the dark horse among rookies, the pinnacle of song-and-dance idol groups. I’m a total newbie. I have so many questions I want to ask you. Sorry for the trouble.”

This tactic worked perfectly on Mi Ning, whose ego was being inflated so much her eyes were about to climb to the top of her head.

She didn’t notice Jiang Yue’s icy, venomous gaze at all. Walking to a corner, Jiang Yue sent a WeChat message to a contact in her phone: 【Pretend to be someone named ‘Luo Zhi’ and text this number. Ask her to sneak out and meet at a nearby hotel tonight. Tell her it’s a secret work discussion. Don’t let her make a scene and don’t call back.】

【I’ll help you, but I want to know what you’re planning? You’re about to go on a show. Don’t blow things up.】

Jiang Yue didn’t abandon her plan, continuing to instruct the man on the other end to be her accomplice: 【Nothing serious. Just a small lesson for this bitch. Just lure her out. I have separate arrangements for the rest.】

From this moment on, she would torment Mi Ning until the show ended…

Jiang Yue held grudges. Even a few careless words that displeased her warranted a vicious retaliation, enough to make that person tremble just hearing her name.

Xing Yue walked out of the training room, strolling around the nearby area. She wasn’t keen on hearing Jiang Yue’s voice.

She had overestimated herself. Though her feelings for He Zhiwen were severed, facing her ex-girlfriend’s current girlfriend—she still couldn’t treat it with equanimity. There was a certain level of irritation involved.

Besides, from the looks of it, Jiang Yue seemed completely unaware of her relationship with He Zhiwen.

Speak of the devil. Not far after she walked out, Jiang Yue caught up, even slightly jogging, out of breath.

“Teacher Xing, I believe in you.” She made this comment out of nowhere, her tone firm. “I believe you caught a cold and your throat is affected. You’re definitely not a million-dollar sound engineer. Your singing is beautiful. I’m a fan of your music.”

Xing Yue hadn’t even taken that comment to heart, yet here was Jiang Yue running over to comfort her as if she’d been deeply wounded and lashing out.

Xing Yue felt a moment of speechlessness but still politely nodded: “Thank you.”

Jiang Yue had come to form an alliance. She hadn’t expected that Xing Yue, who looked gentle as water, would be so difficult to approach.

“Why did you give such a great song away? What a shame.” She rubbed the back of her head, putting on the naive innocence of a university student, her eyes full of pity for Xing Yue. She looked completely harmless.

Xing Yue spoke flatly: “No reason.”

Jiang Yue wasn’t deterred by the icy attitude. She seemed dead set on befriending Xing Yue: “Then should we head to the cafeteria together tonight? I’m Jiang Yue. You can call me Yueyue, or Little Shark. They don’t want to hang out with me. If you don’t mind, keep me company. Having someone to look out for each other is good.”

She spoke with sincerity, and like He Zhiwen, she especially loved to smile. When looking at someone while talking, her brows and eyes curved, her facial lines soft and warm.

Before Xing Yue could refuse, she added enthusiastically: “Oh, right. I have some cold medicine in my room. I’ll bring you some. Even if you don’t use it, having it on hand can’t hurt.”

If not for that particular relationship connection, Xing Yue wouldn’t mind making a friend, even if it was just a superficial act. That was just how these circles were.

But with that connection wedged between them, the thought just made her feel disgusted.

At that moment, Luo Zhi suddenly returned, bringing Xing Yue a phone: “Your agent told me to give this to you. Said it fell out when she was gathering your things.”

Qiao Rui probably thought it was Xing Yue’s spare phone and, as a convenience while delivering something, brought the phone along too.

This phone was precisely that old phone of Xing Yue’s, the one with thousands of photos stored in its album. It had been left in the office last time and never taken back, just sitting there all along.

The moment the phone reached Xing Yue’s hand, the screen lit up automatically because the battery was critically low. That intimate photo with He Zhiwen suddenly appeared before both of their eyes.

The two words printed on each of their milk tea cups: “My” “Wife”

At that instant, the very air solidified. It felt as if even the wind had stopped.

Xing Yue tightened her grip on the phone and asked, “Still heading to the cafeteria together tonight?”