Jiang Song’ai watched as Jiang Ya turned around.
Noticing the gaze from her newly acquired, budget-friendly daughter, Jiang娅 (Jiang Ya) quickly reined in her exposed emotions, pressed a finger against the screen, and locked her phone.
She stood up, smoothed the cuffs of her silk shirt with a casual motion, and resumed her usual brisk tone: Since your identity issue has been sorted out and your agent has already booked the tickets, we can head out now.
I’ll go pack my things right away! Jiang Song’ai nodded, turned, and headed upstairs.
Stepping into the guest room, she smoothed and folded the bedspread she had slept on, then neatly packed her few pieces of clothing, temporarily bought for her by Jiang Ya, into the suitcase.
Once everything was packed, she carried the suitcase downstairs and waited quietly near the inner entrance of the villa.
Jiang Ya quickly gathered her own personal belongings as well.
As she came down the stairs, the chartered car she had booked pulled up right on time.
The driver got out and silently loaded both suitcases into the trunk.
After doing a final check of the doors and windows and exchanging a few quiet words with the property manager handling the handover, Jiang Ya turned to Jiang Song’ai by the doorway and said, Let’s go. Get in the car; we’re heading back to the country.
Jiang Song’ai let out a soft Mm, but her gaze fell upon Jiang Ya’s naturally hanging hand. That hand was fair and slender, with nails trimmed into neat, rounded shapes.
The moment Jiang Ya took a step toward the car, Jiang Song’ai almost involuntarily raised her own hand, reaching out hesitantly toward the hand slightly larger than hers.
Before she could make contact or grasp it, however, Jiang Ya had already walked a few paces ahead.
Jiang Song’ai’s arm froze in mid-air, then dropped listlessly back to her side, her fingers curling slightly against the denim fabric of her trousers, her eyelashes lowering to conceal a flash of bleakness in her eyes.
She sniffed hard, swallowing the sudden inexplicable sourness in her throat, but her curled fingers only gripped the folds of her pants tighter.
It’s fine, she told herself internally, fiercely rubbing the slightly stinging corners of her eyes with her fingertips. For now… it’s still early. There will always be a chance in the future to hold Mom’s hand.
Walking ahead, Jiang Ya remained completely unaware of the brief emotional turmoil playing out behind her. She had already pulled open the car door, bent down to climb inside, and was about to pull the door shut when she realized Jiang Song’ai was still standing in place.
Jiang Ya leaned out, the pale golden afternoon sunlight catching her delicate profile as she furrowed her brow slightly: Aren’t you getting in?
…Coming. Jiang Song’ai rapidly regulated her breathing to ensure her voice sounded entirely normal, then repeated clearly, Coming now.
She hurried forward, pulled open the door on the opposite side, and climbed inside.
The van pulled smoothly away from the villa complex, merging into the traffic of the main city thoroughfare. Outside the window, foreign streetscapes and architecture began to sweep backward like a rewinding roll of film.
Before this scenery-filled film reel finished playing, Jiang Ya’s attention had already snapped back to her phone.
Unlocking her screen, she located the irritating video from moments earlier and clicked on it once more.
Despite having already seen it once, seeing those glaring words and notification tags flood her vision again made her emit a soft tch, revealing a hint of impatience and annoyance.
Sitting right beside her, Jiang Song’ai was close enough to clearly catch that soft click of the tongue.
She couldn’t help glancing sideways, wanting to see what was troubling her mother.
Unfortunately, Jiang Ya’s phone was fitted with a heavy-duty anti-spy screen protector; from the girl’s angle, it was pitch black, revealing nothing.
At that moment, Jiang Ya was entirely consumed by the content on her screen, leaving no room to notice the subtle movements of the person beside her.
Her slender fingers absentmindedly plunged into the smooth black hair framing her forehead, raking it backward, her fair, almost translucent knuckles coming and going amidst the dark strands.
These people… what on earth is going on inside their heads? she muttered under her breath, nearly talking to herself.
Jiang Song’ai only saw her lips part slightly, missing the specific words.
Jiang Ya took a deep breath, forcing herself to carefully reread that video and the endless stream of comments beneath it.
To build anticipation and hype, the production team of the romance reality show she was about to join had already leaked the news through affiliated marketing accounts.
At first, under the influence of paid commentators swaying public opinion, the comment section seemed filled with anticipation and applause.
However, from some unknown point onward, the tone began to veer off course.
Did none of you notice a strange detail?
One netizen, who seemed quite familiar with the account @DedicateMyLifeToHatingYou, posted this comment:
@DedicateMyLifeToHatingYou has always been the most vicious in bashing Song Wanyi. As for Jiang Ya, there are only a handful of instances, so perfunctory it felt like completing a chore. Is there a possibility, just maybe, that @DedicateMyLifeToHatingYou is actually a fan of Jiang Ya, and only bashes Song Wanyi because she’s Jiang Ya’s rival, as collateral damage?
Numerous netizens replied, expressing that she had hit the nail on the head. Consequently, more rubberneckers looking for a thrill flooded in, collectively tagging a specific ID:
@DedicateMyLifeToHatingYou, come out! That female celebrity you love the most just announced she’s going on a romance show to find a partner!
@DedicateMyLifeToHatingYou Hahahaha, I honestly feel so sorry for you. You spent years bashing her, exhausting your life’s hatred reserves just to finally catch your goddess’s attention, only for your goddess to turn around and go on a blind date. Truly, love runs so deep it becomes ‘hate,’ and hatred to the extreme leaves you with nothing!
Staring at the ID being repeatedly brought up, Jiang Ya froze.
The name was intimately familiar to her, it was precisely her own alternate account on a certain short-form video platform.
As a celebrity exposed to high visibility, her public social media accounts were, without exception, entirely composed of commercial endorsements, promotional work, and meticulously polished promotional photos, leaving no room for raw personal emotions or a genuine daily life.
Thus, like many of her peers, Jiang Ya privately owned several secret alternate accounts.
To distinguish them from her main account and with a touch of dark humor, she uniformly gave these accounts pitch-black profile pictures and straightforward IDs dedicated to bashing certain individuals.
Almost every platform had an alternate account like this.
She had created this particular account on a whim when she first turned of age. Having used it for twelve years, she simply couldn’t be bothered to make major changes.
The @DedicateMyLifeToHatingYou currently being watched and heckled by everyone was precisely one of her alternate accounts on the short-form video app.
When did I ever like myself? Jiang Ya stared at the speculative comment, stunned for a moment before her fingertips swiftly tapped across the phone screen.
Soon, the netizen who raised the question received a new reply.
I Dedicate My Life To Hating You: Is your family lacking cough drops?
The netizen, still online, happened to see this glaring and inexplicable reply among the sea of comments.
Not paying attention to the commenter’s ID name: What?
DedicateMyLifeToHatingYou: Nothing. I just noticed your talent for talking nonsense is so formidable, I was worried you might strain your throat.
It took the netizen three seconds to process that this person was insulting her. Being passive-aggressively mocked out of nowhere would provoke anyone into fighting back.
However, she had a habit: before launching into insults as an internet keyboard warrior, she would first check the opponent’s profile page to figure out the right approach.
Upon clicking in and seeing a follower count in the tens of thousands, her gaze slowly drifted upward to inspect the ID name clearly.
Good grief, she had run right into the real deal!
Yet, refusing to admit defeat, she immediately replied: Are you implying what I said was wrong? Then I understand. You don’t like Jiang Ya, which flipped around means… you like Song Wanyi?
Arriving at the airport, Jiang Ya walked along while glaring at the reply on her screen, suddenly feeling a sense of helplessness.
Rather than the facts themselves, these people seemed far more enthusiastic about indulging in their own wild imaginations.
Jiang Ya’s fingertips hovered over the keyboard, wishing to type something else, when a clear boarding announcement chimed in the distance.
Never mind, I’ll drop it for now. She abruptly snapped out of it, took a deep breath, and locked her phone screen.
Leading Jiang Song’ai, Jiang Ya turned and headed toward the VIP channel.
After having their tickets verified, they walked down the boarding bridge toward the cabin door.
Locating her first-class seat, Jiang Ya once again pulled out her phone, her fingertip poised to toggle off airplane mode, when the screen abruptly flashed with notification prompts for multiple likes on Weibo.
Her movements paused slightly, her brow instinctively furrowing as her gaze swept across the fleeting pop-up banner.
H-Hello. Having been notified in advance that a major celebrity would be flying on this flight, an air hostess, upon spotting Jiang Ya’s figure, slanted her torso slightly forward with suppressed excitement and interrupted Jiang Ya’s train of thought: May we take a photo together?
Sure. Jiang Ya nodded slightly. Without further hesitation this time, she decisively tapped airplane mode, cutting off all connections with the outside world.
The account DedicateMyLifeToHatingYou seemed to possess a magnetic pull for controversy. Within the few hours it took Jiang Ya to fly from abroad back to the home country, those few lines of conversation had reaped thousands of likes, climbing all the way to the top of the video’s trending comments.
By the time Jiang Ya landed and disabled airplane mode, the sudden influx of Weibo notifications made her palms tingle.
Upon opening the app, she saw that the marketing account’s video had gained substantial traction, pulling that trending comment up right along with it.
Fortunately, nobody had discovered that she, Jiang Ya herself, was the person behind this anti-Song Wanyi alternate account.
Staring at her phone in silence, she quietly switched Weibo back to her main account before walking out of the airport.
Finishing this, Jiang Ya turned her head and caught sight of Jiang Song’ai, who stood a head shorter than her, peering down at her phone and tapping away.
The profile picture displayed on the screen looked somewhat familiar, she seemed to have seen it very recently.
Retrieving her own phone, Jiang Ya slid open WeChat and scrolled down, quickly locating the user squeezed into the lower-middle section of her contact list.
Song Wanyi.
This little one… is she chatting with Song Wanyi?
What on earth could they possibly have to talk about?
Jiang Ya curled her lips downward, a trace of dissatisfaction welling up in the depths of her heart.
She still felt convinced that Jiang Song’ai was a spy dispatched by Song Wanyi.
Saying nothing, Jiang Ya simply reached out, straightened Jiang Song’ai’s crooked hat brim, and pressed her fingertips downward to adjust it, concealing the girl’s small face even more thoroughly.
This child’s appearance shouldn’t be photographed by outsiders.
Startled by her action, Jiang Song’ai paused before swiftly extinguishing her phone screen, hiding the chat window with Song Wanyi.
It wasn’t until she settled into the car that she pulled her phone out again and secretly unlocked it.
In the chat window labeled with the memo name Mommy, a message sat quietly: Alright, I understand. Welcome home.
Jiang Song’ai bit her lip, the corners of her mouth twitching upward in a smile, and replied with an animated cat sticker wagging its tail.
Almost simultaneously, Jiang Ya’s phone buzzed lightly.
Glancing down at it briefly, she typed out a short reply, turned her face to the girl beside her, and said, We won’t go straight home for now; I’m taking you to meet some people first.