After Becoming a Film Queen, She Dumped Her Financial Sponsor - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Why Don’t You Just Install a Camera Under My Bed with Fu Qingyun?

Admiring her freshly manicured nails, Qiao Sijin found herself increasingly satisfied with her own hands.

“Sijin, aren’t you afraid Fu always retaliates? What if she comes after you for embarrassing her?”

Turning in her office chair, Tao Yi sighed helplessly. When she first took over as Qiao Sijin’s agent, she had assumed the girl had used backdoor connections. In this industry, she had seen more than her fair share of schemers and climbers.

But unlike those other gold-digging canaries who only chased fame and high-profile projects, Qiao Sijin never blindly pursued big productions. In fact, she often rejected high-grossing, sentimental IPs that many would fight over.

If it were any other investor, they’d have dumped her ages ago. But Qiao Sijin had backing—she was supported by the CEO of Nanshan Group: Fu Qingyun. And Fu, with all her temper, still indulged Sijin’s pickiness.

“What’s there to be afraid of? Besides… I know she’s not that kind of person.”

Their contract had clearly stated: once it expired, they’d go their separate ways. Fu Qingyun had always honored her promises.

In her past life, Fu Qingyun had been just as heartless—when Qiao Sijin died, she didn’t even spare a backward glance. Their story had begun one sweltering summer on set, when Sijin was at her most desperate. And it ended… when she was desperate again.

To Sijin, there was nothing worth clinging to.

“You really are…”

Tao Yi tried to say something more but ended up holding back—it was Sijin’s private matter, after all.

“Forget it. Here are a few new offers you’ve received recently. I haven’t responded yet—take a look for yourself.”

Since Qiao Sijin’s meteoric rise, her inbox had been flooding nonstop with offers.

“Got it. Thanks, Sister Tao.”

Taking the scripts, Qiao Sijin began flipping through them. Still, she planned to keep the second half of the year free—she needed to take her film abroad to the international festival circuit. If she had a shot at an international award, it would catapult her career even higher.

“Night Sky?”

“A film by Director Zheng?”

As she flipped through the stack, a particular script with a simple cover caught her attention. Excited, she quickly turned to the first page.

The story was about a city-dwelling office worker who, after hearing of her grandmother’s death, returns to her remote countryside hometown. Raised in the city, the protagonist had never experienced rural life. There, she meets a woman who changes her life—a painter who had originally come to the village for inspiration, but stayed to teach after seeing how poor the local kids were. Once the government assigned official teachers to the village, she planned to leave.

Their first meeting? In the misty rain, in green hills and wet rice fields. The protagonist’s glasses fogged up with rain, and she couldn’t see—until they bumped right into each other.

“How is it? I saved it just for you.”

“Knew you’d like it.”

To them, reputation mattered more than money right now.

This script was a classic art-house film—a delicate, emotional story between two women. Beautifully written, but not built for box office success.

It would win praise, not profits.

In this fast-paced world, few had the patience to appreciate it.

“I knew it, Sister Tao, you treat me the best!”

Qiao Sijin blew a kiss, zipped open her bag, and slipped the Night Sky script inside.

At that moment, her phone’s notification light started flashing rapidly inside her bag. It had been vibrating earlier, but she hadn’t noticed.

Pulling it out, she found a barrage of messages filling her screen to the brim.

….

Group Chat:

@Jin: “So it’s really over between you two?”

“Then let’s go celebrate! Eat something good!”

“Congrats to our little Jin for finally ditching that emotionless woman. 😂”

“+1”

“+10086!”

….

Qiao Sijin sighed. While she did find Fu Qingyun annoying now, it was true: the two of them were truly done.

….

@Jin: “Okay okay, I’m not exactly a saint either. That Fu Qingyun witch isn’t getting off easy.”

….

Tapping her screen, Qiao Sijin replied to her group chat. These were her close friends from university—one had become a paparazzi, and the other was still acting, often starring in moral-heavy dramas popular with middle-aged viewers.

….

@Jin: “Jin, tell me how you broke up! I’ll give you ten yuan! 😏”
(accompanied by a sneaky cat meme)

….

Seeing that sneaky white cat emoji made Qiao Sijin chuckle helplessly. Xu You, the one who became a paparazzo, always acted like this—her occupational instincts always kicked in.

….

@DumpsterDog: “You’re that curious? Why not just install a camera under the bed I shared with Fu Qingyun?”

“Then you can watch whatever you want~”

….

@Jin @DumpsterDog: “You two are disgusting. This chat is filth now. I’m cleansing it!”
(floods chat with spammy gifs)

….

That dinner they’d planned had actually been Qiao Sijin’s idea—a mini celebration to mark her total freedom from Fu Qingyun. Free at last.

And to celebrate winning the most prestigious Best Actress award in the country—at just 25.

By the time she arrived at the restaurant, Xu You looked even more incognito than Qiao or Qiu Zhirou. Sunglasses, a baseball cap, and a black mask—she was one step away from looking like a ninja rice dumpling.

“Oh my god, Xu You, you’re so over the top. Anyone would think you just won Best Actress.”

Qiu Zhirou rubbed her eyes. As a B-list actress herself, even she wasn’t as dramatic as Xu You.

“Shh! You don’t get it! Tons of celebrities eat here. If someone sees me, I’m dead meat!”

Putting her finger to her lips, Xu You took off her sunglasses and peeked around like a suspicious raccoon.

“Stop it. It’s just the three of us.”

This hot pot place had private booths—besides the servers, no one else would interrupt them.

“Sigh, you don’t know… I just exposed a popular pretty boy actor for secretly having a child. Now I’m on their hit list.”

Seeing that even the walking scandal-magnet Qiao Sijin could relax, Xu You finally slumped back against her chair, stretching out like a tired cat.