So Thirsty
“Haha”
In the midst of such a tense atmosphere, Ren Hui glanced at the bullet comments in the livestream and couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
In an instant, the sound of “shua-shua-shua—” followed as four pairs of eyes snapped toward her simultaneously.
Ren Hui took a deep breath, trying her best to suppress her smile. She used as calm a tone as possible to read that specific comment: “A precious video of three unemployed women in the same frame as a world-class supermodel.”
Mo Li turned her head away, struggling to hide the twitching corners of her mouth from the camera.
To a certain extent, that comment wasn’t wrong. The only incorrect part was: “This is work right now, isn’t it?”
Lin Que took a sip of water to help the fried rice go down. Looking seriously at the camera, she said, “The three of us are recording a show and livestreaming with everyone, aren’t we?”
Xie Qizhi beamed. Ren Hui stepped into the frame, pressing her palms together in agreement. “Our NEXT is a legitimate program too, everyone.”
Amidst the general laughter, Lin Que leaned forward slightly, her eyes squinting as she looked at the screen of the livestream device. Lu Ling moved around her and scrolled up through the comments: “Can the three unemployed personnel talk more about the experience of how they fired their bosses?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Lu Ling’s breath hitched.
She had said the wrong thing.
Others might not know, but the reason for Lin Que’s “unemployment” was something everyone was well aware of. As for the other two, even if this was an unintentional slip of the tongue on Lu Ling’s part, as a production staff member reading it aloud, it would look like she was intentionally stirring up trouble to anyone watching.
Ren Hui stood up and gently patted Lu Ling’s shoulder.
Lu Ling turned around. Ren Hui smiled at her with gentle eyes, as if saying a silent “it’s okay.”
“I probably don’t need to say anything more, right?”
Lin Que breathed a sigh of relief. She propped her elbow on the coffee table, resting her hand against her temple. With a relaxed expression, she squinted at Chu Man and Xie Qizhi, teasingly asking, “You two seniors, would you like to describe how you—”
The living room suddenly went silent.
The image froze.
Lu Ling reacted instantly, immediately cutting off the livestream—【It lagged—】
Yes, it lagged.
“Phew—”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Lu Ling, especially, let out a long breath. Simultaneously, she didn’t forget to use the corner of her eye to cautiously watch the four women. Having made a mistake, she was prepared to be scolded, but—
“Is the livestream off?” Mo Li asked.
“It’s off,” Ren Hui said, taking off her hat and mask. “Teachers, you’ve worked hard today. Let’s stop here for now.”
Mo Li asked, “Isn’t this segment not finished yet?”
“The segment broadcast as a livestream is a ‘bonus’ for the show,” Ren Hui explained. “Our production budget is tight. This was the most effective marketing method we could think of to amplify everyone’s celebrity effect—we can’t have everyone recording until the end only for it to result in zero splash, right?”
Xie Qizhi raised a hand in an “OK” gesture, signaling her understanding.
The effect of this method was indeed remarkable. So far, during the two livestreams, the NEXT program has dominated the livestreaming time slots and the weekly trending topics.
Xie Qizhi stretched. Her gaze swept over the other three people; she interlaced her fingers and then let go.
Lu Ling, who was tidying up the equipment, suddenly felt as if her neck had been stung by something—
“Ahem,” Xie Qizhi cleared her throat. As if talking to herself, she murmured, “My last project at the original platform was Wild Berries Growing.”
Lu Ling froze. Lin Que also turned her head to look at Xie Qizhi.
“It was the lowest-rated, least-resonant show of my career,” Xie Qizhi said. “At the same time, it was the first show where my name appeared in the end credits as a Producer.”
“After that, I didn’t have any work. When my contract with them expired at the beginning of the month and wasn’t renewed, it was a relief.”
Xie Qizhi had entered the original platform right after graduation. From behind the scenes to the front of the camera, from script assistant to head screenwriter, from star host to a seat at the producer’s table—she had spent her entire youth there.
But like a carp that had successfully leaped over the Dragon Gate, she thought she would become a “true dragon” with the power of discourse. In reality, she was still just a dish on the table for those already seated at the banquet.
She was a beautiful dish, a practical and versatile tool.
She could be used to highlight their achievements—Look, she’s a woman I promoted.
She was also used to demonstrate their open-mindedness and progressiveness—Look, she’s a woman I promoted.
Woman: What a magnificent identity. Woman: What an insignificant identity.
“…And then?”
By the time Xie Qizhi finished the rehearsal for the second public performance and rushed to the contestant training camp, everything had already been settled.
Chu Xiao stood with her arms crossed, chatting and laughing with the other mentors. Her assistant summarized what had just happened in a single sentence: A band had challenged Chu Xiao, and they had now withdrawn.
That band? FEVER.
She had an impression of them—a deep one. On the proposed list of contestants for the project, in the black-and-white printed photos, she had noticed Lu Ling at a single glance. Because of that, she had even gone to see a live performance by FEVER. Afterward, she told Ren Hui that no matter what method was used, they had to get them to participate in the show.
And Chu Xiao had just kicked them out like that? What did that count for? And what did she count for?
Chu Xiao squinted at her, her chin tilted slightly upward. She very politely did not interrupt Xie Qizhi’s speech. After Xie Qizhi finished, she merely gave a dismissive, cold sneer. Without saying a word, she bypassed her and walked out of the training camp.
Afterward, a post “revealing” the unknown secrets of a certain famous “nice-persona” host began to spread like a virus across the internet. The platform’s attitude toward it was merely perfunctory and stalling. She contacted lawyers, issued statements time and again, reported to the police, and so on, to defend her rights.
She tried to have a dialogue with them, tried to fight for herself, but she failed. They didn’t even give her the chance to see them.
After dealing with the last batch of rumor-mongering accounts, Xie Qizhi had an epiphany.
Chu Man looked at Xie Qizhi, suddenly realizing, “So, you organized this show?”
Mo Li didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she was kind enough not to speak. She still felt that Chu Man was very mysterious; despite having been in the industry for many years, she always possessed an incongruous and jumpy aura.
Xie Qizhi smiled, neither confirming nor denying.
Regardless, at their table, she would always be on the periphery. They sat, while she was just a beautiful vase standing by the table. When needed, they would stick expensive, beautiful flowers in her and display her in the center; when not needed, she was discarded like a weed. Since that was the case, why should she continue to degrade herself?
If you won’t let me sit at the table, fine. This lady isn’t playing anymore. They can eat those leftovers themselves!
Chu Man nodded thoughtfully. While a sense of inexplicable melancholy rose in her heart, her peripheral vision caught sight of Lin Que.
She had become famous at the age of eight. She had been soaking in film crews since before she could speak clearly. She had seen most, if not all, of the “monsters and demons” in this circle. She was an actress; she only knew how to act, and she was only willing to act.
For a long time, colleagues who were incompetent but extremely good at putting on airs could trigger a physiological disgust in her, which was also the reason Chu Man stopped filming.
“There are no good scripts, and there are even fewer actors who can speak like human beings. What’s the point of filming?” “Working with this group of scum is a defilement of my life!”
After experiencing the entire crew waiting for one person for the umpteenth time, Chu Man could no longer bear it. And the rumors of Lin Que’s workplace bullying had reached her ears at that time.
Before NEXT, she had never met Lin Que. But she wasn’t completely ignorant of her—in this era, as long as you went online, you would more or less be familiar with Lin Que. Lin Que appeared on the trending searches for twenty-six out of twenty-four hours a day, and the various rumors about her unfortunately landed right on this “old artist’s” nerves.
But those were always rumors. It wasn’t until this show that she actually met the person that is Lin Que.
Chu Man looked at the person now sitting in front of her. Her gaze was so direct that even Mo Li, who had been spacing out, noticed and looked over—Lin Que, of course, noticed as well. She let Chu Man stare at her, continuing to eat the fried rice in her bowl one mouthful at a time.
It didn’t match. It didn’t match at all.
Had she… done something wrong? Regarding Lin Que.
Chu Man lowered her eyes and leaned back into the sofa cushion again.
“Is it good?” Chu Man asked, looking at Lin Que.
Lin Que hummed in response. She finished the remaining rice in a few quick bites, took a fresh bowl, filled it, and handed it to Chu Man. “Give it a try.”
Chu Man hesitated for a moment, then slid down from the sofa as well, sitting cross-legged next to Lin Que.
Lin Que pushed the bowl in front of her.
“I think it’s pretty delicious.” Lin Que arched her eyebrows and glanced at Xie Qizhi. “Produced by Teacher Xie, five-star recommendation.”
Chu Man looked at the rice in front of her. She was at the table, and the chopsticks were in her hand. How she chose to act was her absolute right.
Eat. She had to eat.
Chu Man picked up the bowl and ate mouthful by mouthful. She ate faster and faster. Mo Li frowned and advised, “Eat slowly, no one is fighting you for it.”
—There were. There were people. Too many people.
Those people were in the light and in the dark, appearing like shadows, or like annoying black dogs. Behind her, behind all of them, their saliva stretched into extremely thin lines, dripping continuously, eventually becoming a river—
They were all sacrifices that, after being dismantled and devoured, were then submerged.
—No, they weren’t completely submerged yet.
Mo Li also stood up from the sofa. She took the water Lu Ling handed over, unscrewed it, sat down opposite, and handed it to her. “Have some water.”
Gulp, gulp— “Ha—”
Chu Man’s chest heaved. She looked at them. After a long while, her gaze fixed on Xie Qizhi. Her crimson lips moved, but before she could speak, Xie Qizhi already understood and gently patted her shoulder.
Finally, her gaze settled on Lin Que.
Lin Que was beautiful. Even knowing this fact beforehand, looking at her face again, the primary feeling in one’s heart was still that sentence.
Chu Man looked at her, her lips opening and closing. In the end, she turned her gaze away and, in a voice only the two of them could hear, very quickly spat out the apology she ought to say—before knowing the truth, the blog post she had made primarily to vent her dissatisfaction had undoubtedly become one of the pieces of “hard evidence” hammering Lin Que down today.
“I’m sorry.”
Then, she pursed her lips tightly, her peripheral vision carefully observing Lin Que.
Lin Que didn’t seem to hear her. She looked around, and finally, her gaze landed on the staff member who had just handed Mo Li the water—that was her assistant.
“Cameraman,” Lin Que tilted her head slightly, the charm beneath the black bow peeking out.
“What should I do? I’m so thirsty too.”