Failed to Transmigrate, I’m Back Again - Chapter 2
Sensing the silence on the other end of the line, Shi Shuwu was about to say something to comfort her agent when the call abruptly ended.
Shi Shuwu: “……”
Moments later, her Weibo account was forcibly logged out, and the password was changed to prevent her from logging back in and causing further trouble.
Luo Zhuo had been observing the entire exchange, having been privately instructed by Tan Qingyu to keep an eye on Shi Shuwu.
She murmured, “Well, now you’ve lost your freedom to post on Weibo, all thanks to your shocking statement.”
Shi Shuwu: “It’s fine.”
Shi Shuwu remained unfazed. She had no intention of posting anyway; the mess Tang Wuyun had created was Tang Wuyun’s responsibility to clean up.
She lowered her head and continued scrolling through her phone with her usual composure.
Tang Wuyun had already replied.
A few seconds later, Shi Shuwu’s usually impassive expression completely crumbled.
Noticing Shi Shuwu’s tightly furrowed brow, Luo Zhuo asked, “What’s wrong?”
She was genuinely curious. What could have made her boss, who remained unflappable even when the sky was falling, suddenly lose her composure?
“Did Sister Tan scold you?”
“No,” Shi Shuwu replied stiffly, her face grim.
Tang Wuyun was going mad.
Even Tang Wuyun herself thought she was acting quite insane. She had never engaged so freely in the comments section of Weibo before.
She gazed at the trending topic with satisfaction. With few tomorrows left, her only worry now was preserving her reputation after she was gone.
Tang Wuyun hung up on several calls. Her Weibo frenzy had drawn a flood of attention, with countless people bombarding her with question marks, demanding to know what was happening.
She was too busy replying to comments to pay them any mind—until Shi Shuwu’s name appeared in the sea of question marks.
Shi Shuwu: ?
Without hesitation, Tang Wuyun fired back instantly.
Tang Wuyun: You don’t get to speak.
Tang Wuyun: No need for your sarcastic remarks.
Tang Wuyun: I know exactly what you’re thinking.
Tang Wuyun cut off Shi Shuwu’s impending insults. She would never give her the chance to mock her further.
Tang Wuyun: I know you find me disgusting. You don’t need to say it.
Shi Shuwu, utterly bewildered, had initially intended to follow Tang Wuyun’s instructions and remain silent. But the more she read, the more something felt deeply wrong.
Unable to resist, Shi Shuwu interjected: I didn’t think that way. What’s gotten into you?
Tang Wuyun saw Shi Shuwu’s reply, frowned, and tried to restrain herself, but couldn’t: Don’t pretend. I know exactly what you think of me.
Had those ten times she’d been mocked earlier been for nothing?
You can rest assured now. I’ll never like you again.
Liking you before was my mistake, and your misfortune.
Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.
Tang Wuyun typed out the barrage of messages, took a deep breath, and was about to continue when she saw the “is typing…” notification. She immediately gave up and blocked Shi Shuwu.
Shi Shuwu silently stared at the red exclamation mark on her screen, her gaze lingering on the messages Tang Wuyun had sent, her thoughts in turmoil.
“She said she liked me?”
Sensing the finality in Tang Wuyun’s words, Shi Shuwu finally realized she wasn’t joking.
Hearing her murmur, Luo Zhuo instinctively retorted, “Yeah, she said she doesn’t like you anymore.”
Shi Shuwu paused, lifting her head to meet Luo Zhuo’s gaze with clear, limpid eyes. She opened her mouth, wanting to speak, but hesitated.
Unaware that their boss had already blocked Tang Wuyun, Luo Zhuo sensed Shi Shuwu’s unspoken thoughts and asked directly, “What’s wrong?”
Shi Shuwu showed Luo Zhuo the blocked contact screen.
Her voice, tinged with confusion and a hint of helplessness, said, “She seems to have some misunderstanding about me.”
After speaking, she began to reflect, wondering if she had done something wrong. Why would Tang Wuyun think of her that way?
Luo Zhuo was shocked. Though Shi Shuwu’s assistant, she was also a longtime friend and knew her well. How could Shi Shuwu possibly find Tang Wuyun disgusting?
“Holy crap, this is a massive misunderstanding!”
Now understanding why Shi Shuwu had shown her the chat history, Luo Zhuo quickly unlocked her own phone and offered it to Shi Shuwu. She also had Tang Wuyun’s contact information.
“Wait,” Luo Zhuo suddenly withdrew the phone.
Shi Shuwu looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
Luo Zhuo hissed softly, “How are you planning to explain? And how will you face her after that?”
Shi Shuwu didn’t know how to answer.
The two women remained locked in a tense silence for a long moment.
Shi Shuwu pursed her lips. “I don’t know, but being misunderstood is never good.”
Luo Zhuo thought she had a point. She handed the phone back to Shi Shuwu, casually adding, “Do you like her?”
Shi Shuwu’s fingers paused mid-typing.
“I like her quite a bit. She’s very interesting,” she replied, then resumed typing.
Luo Zhuo narrowed her eyes, studying Shi Shuwu. Something about her answer felt off, ambiguous.
“Is that…” Luo Zhuo started to ask what kind of liking Shi Shuwu meant, but Shi Shuwu cut her off.
“Let’s go,” Shi Shuwu said, handing the phone back to Luo Zhuo. She put on her mask, stood up, and turned to leave.
Luo Zhuo looked bewildered. “Go where?”
She scrambled to her feet, glancing down at her phone.
The message hadn’t sent.
Tang Wuyun had blocked her too.
The situation seemed even more serious than they’d imagined.
“To find Tang Wuyun,” Shi Shuwu replied calmly, her voice betraying no hint of distress.
Luo Zhuo wore a bitter expression.
How could she tell her boss that their flight might not take off today?
Sure enough, after checking the flight information herself, Shi Shuwu discovered there were no available tickets to fly to Tang Wuyun.
Luo Zhuo, who had been silent for a long time, finally couldn’t contain her curiosity and asked Shi Shuwu, “Do you know where she lives?”
Shi Shuwu nodded. “I do.”
She had even ordered takeout for Tang Wuyun many times.
Luo Zhuo cleared her throat and asked quietly as Shi Shuwu tried to buy a high-speed rail ticket, “Do you… like her?”
Otherwise, why would she be so determined to find Tang Wuyun?
Shi Shuwu looked away, glancing down at her phone as she replied calmly, “I just don’t want to lose my gaming partner.”
Hearing Shi Shuwu’s explanation, Luo Zhuo stroked her chin and tilted her head. It was true—Shi Shuwu and Tang Wuyun often played ranked games together.
“But she used to like you… you know, that kind of like. Even if she says she doesn’t anymore, wouldn’t it be awkward to reach out and ask to play games again?”
“It’ll be awkward, right?”
Luo Zhuo didn’t want to hurt Shi Shuwu, but the truth was undeniable.
“Once those feelings are confessed, you’re bound to lose your gaming partner.”
They could never go back to how things were before.
Forced to confront this reality, Shi Shuwu frowned in frustration.
Now she finally understood Tan Qingyu’s perspective from a different angle.
Tang Wuyun’s behavior today had truly gone too far.
After blocking Shi Shuwu, Tang Wuyun opened her phone’s blacklist and deleted Shi Shuwu’s contact information, leaving no trace behind.
Over the next hour, Tang Wuyun repeated this process—blocking and deleting contacts—not just with Shi Shuwu, but with her friends, teammates, and colleagues. She had alienated almost everyone she knew.
With my behavior this atrocious, no one will ever want to befriend me again, Tang Wuyun thought.
She was trying to prevent too many things.
She didn’t want another “Tang Wuyun” to replace her and interact with the people around her.
As for her family, they didn’t matter; she had severed ties with them long ago.
Her contact list still contained the targets the future “Tang Wuyun” would try to seduce.
With a blank expression, Tang Wuyun dragged out the CEO, the movie star, and the top idol, cursed them out, then blocked and deleted them.
The chat pages fell completely silent.
Tang Wuyun stared blankly at her contact list, now reduced to a handful of names. After a moment’s thought, she decided to simply delete the entire account, once and for all.
Finally, Tang Wuyun’s attention fell on the several phone numbers that had called to question her actions. She closed her eyes briefly, then, having come this far, she hesitated no longer. She retrieved a SIM card ejector tool, removed the SIM card, and flushed it down the toilet.
She had been in the industry for nearly a decade. Although she had been ruthlessly frozen out by her agency’s boss after a dispute in her early years, two years meant little to someone who had already reached the pinnacle of stardom.
Yet all her ten years of hard work was about to be destroyed in a single day.
Tang Wuyun suppressed her despair and reopened Weibo. She had been about to post something when she noticed that during the time she had been deleting contacts, several celebrities had left comments in her comment section.
Pei Yinxi V: Why aren’t you answering your phone?
Lu Ya V: Just you wait (smiling emoji)
Tang Wuyun fell silent, almost forgetting that her teammates were not to be trifled with.
She had attended a prestigious drama academy in China. During her freshman year, she signed with a moderately well-known entertainment agency.
Freshly signed, she had envisioned dazzling the entertainment world with her talent. Instead, the agency bundled her into a reality show, and she found herself participating in a talent competition, bewildered and unprepared.
Originally, Tang Wuyun had planned to coast through the competition and get eliminated. But her exceptional beauty unexpectedly propelled her to debut. At eighteen, she stumbled into the idol path by sheer chance.
As part of a five-member group, Tang Wuyun, who had become a sensation, spent two years as an idol. Ultimately, due to certain unspeakable reasons and her original ambition for entering the industry, she insisted on transitioning to acting.
Still a university student, she didn’t want to delay her graduation and harbored a genuine desire to study acting properly.
Tang Wuyun’s transition proved remarkably successful. Blessed with both talent and luck, she steadily accumulated numerous awards, culminating in her crowning as Best Actress at the age of 26.
Then, two years ago, her luck ran out, and the company shelved her.
Tang Wuyun had initially comforted herself, believing that fate had simply thrown her a hurdle after her smooth sailing. She just needed to endure these two years until her contract expired.
But fate had dealt her an insurmountable blow: she was about to be replaced.
Tang Wuyun sighed softly, deleting the comments from her two teammates, completely indifferent to how gossip accounts might twist her actions.
Shi Shuwu also noticed the comments from Tang Wuyun’s team members, realizing that no one seemed able to contact her.
What on earth had happened?
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