Her Wild Rose - Chapter 16
Chapter 16: Holding Hands
#CharityShow
#TravelingWithMyBestie
#WhereIsFengxian
#FengxianStoneCarvings #FengxianTravelGuide
#SuQianTangTang #Us
#TripToFengxianTogether
…
Starting from the afternoon, a series of trending hashtags exploded onto the hot search list, nearly crashing Weibo.
Tang Tang stood in the control room with a blank expression, checking the video and audio for the evening show over and over again to make sure there were no glitches. The rest of the production team was adjusting the lights, red and green neon flashing repeatedly across Tang Tang’s face, making her temples throb with pain.
“Why don’t I take over for a while? You can go rest.”
Su Qian walked up to Tang Tang, her usual laziness and nonchalance gone from her tone for the first time. When the other girl didn’t react, she reached out and lightly touched her arm, forcing a slightly sheepish smile.
“Dumb kid, will you at least look at me?”
The production team was taking this charity show unusually seriously. Both Su Qian and Tang Tang’s agencies hoped to use the event to promote their newcomers, so everyone was going all out to make it flawless—everyone except Su Qian, that is.
She was now standing beside Tang Tang like a lifeless husk, forcing a smile as she softly pleaded, “Tang Tang, I was wrong, I really was wrong.”
Tang Tang didn’t respond, but the schedule she held was now crumpled at the edges from how tightly she was gripping it.
This girl really was an expert at being annoyingly persistent.
Though Tang Tang was inwardly exasperated, she had made up her mind not to give Su Qian any reaction.
It wasn’t exactly that she was mad at Su Qian for setting up Tian Qingqing, but more that—for a fleeting moment—she found herself not wanting to see this vengeful version of Su Qian.
The Su Qian she liked should always be that proud, dazzling white peacock—not someone playing petty tricks like a little sparrow.
And even if it was necessary…
Tang Tang was suddenly startled by her own subconscious attempt to excuse Su Qian. She pouted and begrudgingly added to herself:
Even if it was absolutely necessary, why did she have to do it herself? Let someone else do the dirty work.
The terrifying thought made her shake her head vigorously in an attempt to drive it away.
Love-brained? Nope. Not allowed.
“Su Qian, don’t you have anything better to do?” After battling internally for a while, Tang Tang finally looked up and gave Su Qian a disdainful glance. “Have you even memorized your lines? Can you not disturb me while I’m working?”
…?
Wait—so she was being told off for interfering with her work?
For Su Qian, who was practically the industry workaholic, that was… a novel experience. She drifted away from Tang Tang in disbelief, wearing an expression like she’d just seen a ghost.
In all her years in showbiz, this was the first time anyone had dissed her work ethic.
“Well, well, what’s with the sour face? Is ‘bitter gourd makeup’ trending or something now?”
As people started to fill the charity show venue, the backstage area saw a steady stream of industry folks delivering flower baskets. Shen Jia walked up in high heels, carrying a huge bouquet of sunflowers. She gave Su Qian a once-over and teased, “Who else but Red Star Entertainment’s Tang Tang could make our Su Best Actress sulk like this?”
“Don’t pour oil on the fire.”
Su Qian rolled her eyes and jerked her chin toward Tang Tang, who was busy directing the lighting team. “She’s giving me the silent treatment. Can’t talk her out of it.”
Whoa. So there’s something Su Qian can’t handle?
Shen Jia stared at her in amazement, visibly impressed. “Spill. What kind of hornet’s nest did you poke?”
Hornet’s nest?
Yeah… that metaphor actually worked.
A ghost of a smile flickered on Su Qian’s bitter face. Just then, the audience’s chatter began to rise in volume. Su Qian glanced at her phone—it was showtime.
“I’m the finale, duet number. Let’s make this quick.”
Unlike a full-blown concert, the charity show only lasted two hours. Su Qian and Tang Tang’s performance was scheduled as the closing act.
Under Shen Jia’s curious gaze, Su Qian pointed toward seat 32 in the front row and asked with a mysterious tone, “Recognize that seat?”
With Su Qian’s prompt, Shen Jia leaned against the backstage doorframe, squinting at the audience. She counted seat numbers one by one. When she saw who was in seat 32, she recoiled in horror.
“You invited him? Are you out of your mind?!”
Shen Jia nearly forgot to keep her voice down. She grabbed Su Qian’s arm so tightly her fingernails left crescent-shaped marks.
“That’s Tian Shen—that lunatic! Are you trying to blow this place up?!”
“That’s right. Tian Qingqing’s father.” Su Qian crossed her arms and sneered. “You remember how much of a player he was in his younger days. Now isn’t this just the kind of drama the gossip blogs love? One more love child for the industry. It’s year-end KPI season, after all.”
The way Su Qian said it was downright sinister. Shen Jia felt a chill go down her spine. Goosebumps. Everywhere.
Calling her crazy would be flattering.
“Did you even think about what’ll happen once this gets out?” Shen Jia’s voice trembled. “If Tian Shen acknowledges her, all your years of hard work could be reduced to a joke. And if he doesn’t, do you have any idea what Tian Qingqing, with her vindictive personality, would do to you?”
“I just wanted to teach her a lesson. Relax, I’m not actually going to expose her real identity.”
Su Qian gave Shen Jia a reassuring pat. “Besides, look—she didn’t even dare show up tonight.”
God…
Shen Jia was suddenly deeply aware of how dangerous it would be to be Su Qian’s rival.
Thank goodness they were friends.
“So… what did Tang Tang say to you?” Shen Jia couldn’t help asking. She was curious how Tang Tang managed to survive this kind of scheming and not run away screaming.
“She said… she hated me.”
Su Qian was still forcing a wry smile when a staff member walked up to tell her it was time to get ready.
“You go do your thing.” Shen Jia sighed and offered a sincere evaluation: “Su Qian, you really are a jerk.”
“Thanks.”
Su Qian made a heart with her fingers and calmly followed the staff to the stage entrance to meet up with Tang Tang.
Tang Tang stood by the wings in the starry evening gown Su Qian had gifted her for the event, fidgeting nervously with the rhinestones on the hem.
Su Qian stepped forward and took her hand, stopping her from messing with the dress. She slipped into teasing mode again.
“Dumb kid, the diamonds are tiny. Even if you pick them all off, they’re not worth much.”
The familiar tone was like a breeze, soothing Tang Tang’s nerves. She turned her head and saw only Su Qian’s sparkling eyes. In the lighting, her brown irises gleamed brilliantly, and inside them were two tiny reflections—of her.
In that moment, Tang Tang’s heart was beating far too fast.
“Mind your own business!”
She glared at Su Qian and stepped onto the stage as the host announced them.
Their performance was a lyrical Chinese song. To match the theme, the stage design placed each of them on separate, mobile platforms shaped like boats that could glide along tracks.
Soft music began to play. Two lonely spotlights shone down on each of them, standing apart as if destined never to meet.
Fitting, really.
Su Qian looked at the distance between them—like a galaxy—and couldn’t help the sorrow that crept onto her face.
Please don’t secretly tell her…
That on many late nights,
Someone’s been thinking about her…
The lyrics struck a chord. Lost in the music, Su Qian almost forgot to move. She simply stared as Tang Tang’s little boat glided closer and closer until they were side by side. In her eyes, Su Qian saw two tiny flames.
As the music faded amid lingering emotion, they stepped off the boats and onto the center of the stage. A cascade of streamers and confetti fell from above, instantly making them both glitter like stars.
“Tang Tang! Su Qian! Tang Tang! Su Qian!”
The audience’s cheers and applause were thunderous. Tang Tang turned to Su Qian with a radiant smile—her eyes shimmering with joy.
They did it. They did it.
Maybe it was the overwhelming emotion of the moment, but something inside Su Qian snapped. She reached out and grabbed Tang Tang’s hand. Even though Tang Tang struggled to pull away, she wouldn’t let go.
This was her Tang Tang. And for a split second, she wanted the whole world to know.
“Su Qian… what am I to you?”
The other performers began returning to the stage for the curtain call, hugging their teammates and exchanging thanks.
Tang Tang had already removed her mic. She looked at Su Qian with puzzled, stubborn eyes.
“Am I just a pet you summon at will? Or a kid who seems like a good match on the surface but will never truly belong by your side?”
So that’s how she sees herself.
Su Qian suddenly felt a strange sense of clarity. She removed her own mic too and gently pulled Tang Tang toward a quiet corner of the stage.
Neither of them had answers to those questions, but they still held hands—and didn’t let go.
In that moment, it felt like everything was worth the risk.
Su Qian reached out and carefully brushed confetti and glitter from Tang Tang’s hair. Her usually distant eyes now held deep tenderness. She leaned in close and whispered:
“You’re something I lost and found again.”