As evening approached, the setting sun cast a warm golden halo over the detached villa in the suburbs.
Jiang Ya pushed open the heavy door. A faint trace of Song Wanyi’s Omega pheromone seemed to linger in the entryway.
Jiang Ya sneezed uncomfortably. She always felt that Song Wanyi’s pheromones, just like the woman herself, seemed to target all her most sensitive spots.
Her gaze swept across the slightly messy sofa, which held an open fashion magazine, a half-drank glass of water, and an empty sunglasses case belonging to Song Wanyi sitting right next to the cup.
Frowning, and mindful that Jiang Song’ai was not far away, Jiang Ya lowered her voice, Did she leave this here on purpose, expecting me to return it to her in person?
At that moment, her phone vibrated, and a message from Jiang Xuyin popped up on the screen: The household registration is all sorted out. The process went even smoother than expected.
Jiang Ya looked up to search for Jiang Song’ai’s whereabouts.
Jiang Song’ai was currently curled up on the cashmere rug in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, resting her weight on two fluffy cushions.
The tablet in her hands flickered with light, and her fingers swiped aimlessly across the screen, occasionally giggling at the content she found.
In your world, were you in middle school or the final year of primary school before? Jiang Ya walked over, sat down on the sofa next to Jiang Song’ai, and contacted friends in the country to see if they could help arrange a transfer while asking, I’m not sure if you can keep up with the teaching pace of this world.
Hearing that she still had to study even after time-traveling, Jiang Song’ai instantly wilted. She slumped into the pile of cushions, her fingertips unconsciously swiping across the screen as she dragged out her tone, Can I not go to school?
No. This reaction was entirely within her expectations. Without lifting her head, Jiang Ya spoke in a gentle yet uncompromising tone, I’m not sure if you still have a chance to return to your original world. But if you want to live here long-term, you must learn the things here.
Jiang Song’ai instantly felt her life turn bleak. The romantic plotline between her two mothers had yet to advance, and she had already gotten herself trapped in a sea of academics. If she was locked up at school every day, how was she supposed to act as her mothers’ matchmaker?
Burying her head in a cushion, she replied listlessly, I was in the first year of middle school.
Do you need to drop a grade? After all, it’s a different world, and I’m afraid you won’t be able to keep up, Jiang Ya inquired, her fingers still tapping away on the keyboard.
My purpose in coming here isn’t to study, Jiang Song’ai muttered inwardly, though she replied obediently on the outside, I’ll listen to Mama.
After finishing her chat with Jiang Song’ai, Jiang Ya got up to pour water at the kitchen island.
Jiang Song’ai picked up her tablet again, this time looking at it half-heartedly until an unremarkable update caught her eye.
The publisher was an account with very few followers, bearing an ID containing the phrase Industry Insider Secretes. The caption read: I heard from industry friends at a dinner banquet that a certain J-surnamed top-tier Alpha goddess has recently been actively contacting the production team of ‘You Are My Only’! What kind of rhythm is this? Are even superstars going on dating reality shows to find love while building their careers?
The blogger wasn’t very famous, and the post had only a few perfunctory bot replies and casual banter from passersby.
J-surnamed? Alpha? Actively contacting a dating show?
Several keywords quickly pieced themselves together in her mind. Jiang Song’ai’s heart skipped a beat; her immediate reaction was her own surname, and… her mother.
I’m, completely, doomed!
No matter how mature her mind was, Jiang Song’ai was still just a brat of middle school age. She secretly glanced at Jiang Ya, who was deeply engrossed in chatting with someone, and quietly opened the chat window with Song Wanyi.
Mommy!! Something terrible has happened!! Mama is going behind our backs to date someone else!!!!!!!!
As soon as she arrived at the departure hall of Huaxia International Airport and bid farewell to a few fans on the same flight, Song Wanyi deftly propped her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose, pulled her mask up high, and finally lowered the brim of her hat to conceal her highly recognizable face completely.
Then, turning off her phone’s airplane mode, a cascade of notification chimes instantly flooded out. However, when she saw the notification from her pinned contact, her forward stride faltered for a moment.
The display name was Utility Person, and the avatar was a stick-figure drawing of a family of three. The drawing skill was quite good; common friends or other acquaintances could easily guess that the adults in the stick figures were her and Jiang Ya.
Song Wanyi tapped it open, and the first things that met her eyes were a string of complaints filled with exclamation marks and a bunch of sticker emojis that practically wanted to leap out of the phone interface.
Song-jie? The assistant pushing the luggage cart beside her keenly noticed her hesitation and asked with concern, Did you leave something behind on the plane? I’ll go contact ground control.
It’s nothing, Song Wanyi’s voice came through her mask, sounding slightly deep. Her attention was already focused on replying to the message, her fingertips tapping rapidly across the screen.
Jiang Song’ai quickly received a reply from the contact named Song Mommy.
Be good. Don’t worry, Mommy will find a way.
Jiang Song’ai trusted Song Wanyi the most. Seeing these words, she instantly relaxed by more than half and cheerfully replied with a dynamic, exaggerated cat-rolling sticker that took up almost half the screen, accompanied by large bolded characters reading, I believe in you, you’re the best!
Song Wanyi could almost picture the huffing yet trusting look on Jiang Song’ai’s face on the other end of the screen.
The assistant had already safely placed the luggage into the trunk. Song Wanyi bent down and climbed into the back seat of the black commercial car arranged by the company. The assistant followed closely, sitting down beside her.
In the front passenger seat, the manager nodded at Song Wanyi as a greeting and handed over a tablet containing an organized schedule and public sentiment briefing.
The moment the assistant sat down, her gaze inadvertently swept over Song Wanyi’s phone screen, which had not yet gone to sleep; that huge, carefree emoji was still lingering at the very bottom of the chat box.
The assistant was a young beta who had graduated not long ago. After spending some time with Song Wanyi, she discovered that the actress was not as difficult to get along with as rumors online suggested, so she couldn’t help teasing, Song-jie, is there a romance situation brewing?
With a flick of her wrist, Song Wanyi turned the screen inward, naturally placing her phone face down on the leather seat beside her as she replied with a flat and calm tone, A kid from a relative’s family, just acting up.
She took the tablet, her gaze scanning the information on the screen rapidly, instantly switching back to work mode.
Sitting in the front passenger seat, manager Zeng Xin turned her head upon hearing this. She was in her early thirties, dressed in casual attire, with a sharp look, though she appeared somewhat unapproachable. Hearing this, she adjusted the frame of her glasses, first shooting the assistant a warning look that said ask fewer questions, and then sidelong-glanced at Song Wanyi: Pay attention to your boundaries when chatting too, don’t leave people with leverage.
Zeng Xin’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried her habitual admonishing tone: Especially at a critical juncture like this, how many pairs of eyes are watching you? Screenshots, screen recordings, there’s no guarding against them. Private conversations, even with a kid from your relative’s family, don’t reveal too much about the industry. You know how some star-chasing kids are…
There was no need to finish the rest of the sentence. Song Wanyi wasn’t a rookie stepping into the entertainment industry for the first time; she knew what she should do.
Having offered that routine reminder of caution, Zeng Xin turned the topic to official business: You mentioned before that you want to take on that dating reality show ‘You Are My Only’, are you serious?
She recalled how Song Wanyi had just entered a rest period a few days ago, only to suddenly and proactively request work arrangements, her tone carrying inquiry.
Yes. Song Wanyi answered without a shred of hesitation.
Zeng Xin seriously looked her over. She had managed Song Wanyi since she was young and understood her character all too well: a workaholic who had carved ambition and self-discipline into her very bones. But she hadn’t expected that in order to out-compete Jiang Ya, she would even resort to following the trend and joining a dating show.
Actually, I don’t think it’s necessary. I know you hold yourself to high standards and always want to try different fields. But live-streaming reality shows, you know their nature and PR risks better than anyone.
Precisely because she understood too well, Zeng Xin found it even more baffling and tried to dissuade her, Those old grievances between the two of you, were they really from over a decade ago? It’s really not worth holding a grudge until now. Do you know what people online are saying about you these days? ‘Jiang Ya’s shadow’, whatever genre Jiang Ya acts in and hits big with, you’re guaranteed to have a boutique production of the exact same genre launched the following year; she wins an award, and next time you aim for a higher one. And now you’re even trying to go on a dating show with her… You have no idea, some of Jiang Ya’s core fandom have cursed you out with all sorts of nasty things.
Zeng Xin sighed, her tone complicated: Given the two of you’s bizarre state of affairs, there’s actually still a small fraction of people shipping your CP, stubbornly hallucinating a grand drama where you two are in ‘extreme tension’ and ‘expecting rivals to turn into lovers’.
Song Wanyi listened in silence, her expression giving nothing away to let anyone fathom her true thoughts. Only her manicured nails resting on the edge of the tablet were rubbing back and forth along the corner of the device.
Zeng Xin spoke for a bit, paused, checked Song Wanyi’s expression, and grew even more puzzled. At times, she felt that Song Wanyi perhaps harbored unspeakable secrets and feelings toward Jiang Ya; otherwise, she wouldn’t show such attention that surpassed mere competition, bordering almost on obsession. But at other times, it completely looked like a case of tit-for-tat animosity.
Her artist was indeed famous for playing unhinged villains, but surely she wasn’t this unfathomable in real life.
Zeng Xin pursed her lips and returned to reality: Let’s talk about the CP fans, shall we? Although there aren’t many, they sure make a lot of noise. Jiang Ya’s studio, if I recall correctly, has always maintained a zero-tolerance policy toward these kinds of shipped-CP fan communities, sniping every single one they see with thunderous methods. Why is it that on our end… you seem to have no reaction at all this time?
With that, she took out her phone, logged into a Weibo sock-puppet account, and tapped on a special account in her following list.
Look, I’m sharing someone with you. Zeng Xin turned her phone screen toward Song Wanyi. I’ve been following this account for years; they’re a fairly well-known anti-fan. To say they exclusively bash you isn’t entirely true, sometimes they also post mocking Jiang Ya, their stance is pretty fickle. But their most active record of combat is fighting everywhere against the CP fans who ship you and Jiang Ya. Their combat power is fierce, their logic novel, and sometimes, because they don’t understand fresh internet slang, they end up causing huge bloopers. One of those blooper incidents was even picked up and reposted as a joke on major platforms by marketing accounts earlier.
Zeng Xin scrolled through the account’s most recent updates, all of which were sharp, sarcastic remarks directed at video edits made by certain CP fans.
This person is actually a pretty good gun to use against the opposing CP fans. Should I go contact them, or just have people take down those main CP supers-topics? It’s an eyesore and saves us from future trouble.
Song Wanyi’s gaze finally shifted from the void and landed on Zeng Xin’s phone screen.
Just when Zeng Xin expected her to nod in swift, decisive agreement as she usually did when handling similar situations, Song Wanyi spoke slowly.
No need. She picked up the phone that had been placed face down on the seat again, paused for a moment, and continued, This time, let’s keep it around for a while.