After Becoming a Film Queen, She Dumped Her Financial Sponsor - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: People Like That Deserve to Be Lonely Forever!

Three hours had passed, and Qiao Sijin still couldn’t sleep. Agitated, she kicked off the blanket and pulled off her sleep mask.

“It’s all Xu You’s fault, dragging Fu Qingyun into the conversation earlier… Now I can’t fall asleep at all!”

Her calves lay on top of the blanket as Fu Qingyun’s face loomed again and again in her mind—so annoyingly persistent.

“Damn it… Fu Qingyun, can you stop showing up in my dreams?”

“Not even in my imagination, please.”

Trying to chase the image from her mind, Qiao Sijin sighed, gave up on sleep entirely, and grabbed her phone. In the pitch-black room, a white glow lit up her cheek.

There were many red notification dots.

But none that she cared about. Her fingers absentmindedly swiped through the apps. This was her private account—aside from some relatives and close contacts, it was mostly empty.

Well, except for one person.

Fu Qingyun.

Dammit, why was she thinking about Fu Qingyun again? It was getting ridiculous.

She turned the screen off and tossed the phone back onto her pillow. Reaching up to pat her cheeks, she tried to shake herself out of it.

“Maybe I’ll count sheep.”

“Maybe that’ll help me fall asleep.”

Talking to herself, she finally put the phone down for good. And in the quiet repetition of numbers, she slowly drifted off.

…

Meanwhile, Fu Qingyun had been in a terrible state for the past few days. On impulse, she gave the entire company an early dismissal.

She needed to reset, to sort out her messed-up state of mind.

Leaning against the windowsill, her phone buzzed non-stop. Fu Qingyun stared at the night view for a while before lazily picking it up.

Only two people ever spammed her phone like this.

The first was Qiao Sijin back in college. The second was Shen Ran.

If it were Shen Dai, she’d have already hired a locksmith to break into her place.

Sure enough, the message was from Shen Ran.

“AAAAHHHHHHH!!”

“Sis, go check your Moments RIGHT NOW!”

Fu Qingyun frowned. She hadn’t posted on her social feed in ages. She couldn’t even remember the last time.

“I haven’t posted anything. What are you talking about?”

“Don’t make a fuss.”

Still, she knew Shen Ran wasn’t the type to freak out over nothing. If she was spamming like this, something had to be up.

So Fu Qingyun tapped into her WeChat Moments.

Her profile picture was just a white blank square—she had uploaded it because the default one looked ugly to her.

There was a red dot notification.

Qiao Sijin had liked her post.

Even though things between them were over, Fu Qingyun had never deleted Qiao Sijin’s contact. And apparently, Qiao Sijin hadn’t removed her either.

Maybe Qiao had just been too busy lately—so busy she didn’t even have time to delete her.

Fu Qingyun stared at the old photo they took together, dazed. It must’ve been from a long time ago. Probably when Qiao Sijin was still in college.

Back then, she still had the courage to pull out her phone and take pictures of Fu Qingyun.

The setting sun cast golden light on the beach campsite. Coconut trees swayed in the wind, and the grass lay flat from the breeze. Fu Qingyun was wearing a mint green outfit with intricate floral patterns.

Her long black hair draped over her shoulders. She lounged lazily on a camping chair, holding a bottle of golden beer.

Her fingers touched the black label, with sunglasses tucked at her collar. Her beautiful eyes stared straight into the camera, lips curled into a faint smile.

Qiao Sijin had picked out that outfit for her—begging for an entire evening before Fu Qingyun finally agreed to wear it.

Truthfully, she would’ve worn it anyway. She just liked hearing Qiao Sijin’s soft, pleading voice.

Back then, even the way Qiao Sijin spoke to her was soft and sweet—always calling her “Jiejie” this, “Jiejie” that.

“See? I told you. Qingyun, you’ve still got a shot.”

“Keep trying!”

Fu Qingyun was puzzled. A simple “like” didn’t mean much. Besides, Qiao Sijin had already liked that post once before. Why had it shown up again?

Had she unliked everything after the contract ended, then angrily re-liked it all one by one?

Fu Qingyun considered it. Yeah… that sounded like something Qiao Sijin would do.

“It’s just a like. She’s been mad at me this whole time and hasn’t sent me a single message.”

Shen Ran nearly exploded reading that. She rolled her eyes so hard it hurt and started furiously typing back.

“She didn’t block you! That means you still have a chance! If she won’t message you first, why can’t you take the initiative?!”

“No wonder you’re single!”

“President Fu, are your fingers made of gold?”

“How hard is it to send one message?!”

Alright, that was enough.

If she scolded her any more, Shen Ran figured Fu Qingyun might actually beat her up. Time to stop.

If this woman still couldn’t understand what she was trying to say…

Then clearly, Fu Qingyun had nothing to do with the word “love.”

People like that deserve to be lonely forever!

Fu Qingyun stared at Shen Ran’s dramatic emoji rant and finally cracked a smile. Her mood, gloomy for days, lifted just a little.

Maybe… Qiao Sijin was starting to forgive her.

Why else would she like that old post again?

“I get it. I’ll message her first.”

At least that part, Shen Ran wasn’t wrong about. Fu Qingyun had been too silent. It was only making things worse.

But… it was already late at night.

She’d wait until morning to avoid disturbing her.

…

The next morning, Qiao Sijin was still groggy when she heard a notification ding beside her.

It was probably Li Ke, reminding her to get up.

She had a flight tonight—couldn’t be late!

Reaching blindly for her phone, she rubbed her sleepy eyes and saw a familiar ID, with a blank white profile picture.

“Fu… Qingyun?”

“Am I still dreaming? Why would I dream of… Fu Qingyun? Hahahaha, ridiculous. It has to be a dream.”

Mumbling to herself, Qiao Sijin turned off the screen and tried to go back to sleep.

But just a few seconds later, she jolted upright in bed.

Her fingers trembled as she reached again for her phone.

“That must’ve been a dream. It had to be a dream!”