Her Rose on Camera - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Broken Promise

But… she really didn’t want to “do the act.”

Tang Tang gritted her teeth, finally forcing out a passable smile under Su Qian’s coercion.
“Yeah, we do communicate in private—quite a bit, actually.”

She blinked as she spoke, not even believing her own words.

If she were being honest, maybe you could say they still “communicated.”
Tang Tang faced the cameras aimed at her like loaded guns and tried to convince herself—At least they still exchanged words… in Mandarin.

Like, how to piss each other off right before the other hangs up the phone.

“Then what about your Weibo posts yesterday? Was that a new marketing tactic?”

Cut off earlier by Su Qian stealing her spotlight, the male host’s ego took a hit.
With a tight, mocking smile, he asked a question that both studios had forbidden:
“Or are all these years of ‘cold war’ rumors between you two just some publicity stunt?”

The audience and media instantly went still. Everyone held their breath, waiting.

The rumors of Tang Tang and Su Qian’s “never in the same room” status had never really died down in the industry.

In the early days, when both were just web novel writers, they got along famously—Fans even created superthreads and fan circles to ship them as a CP (couple pairing).

But then, Su Qian suddenly transitioned into the entertainment industry.
Shortly after, Tang Tang unfollowed her. Su Qian rode her first trending topic to fame.

Tang Tang followed her into the entertainment world soon after, but from then on, they never appeared at the same events. If one had to attend, the other always bailed.

Rumors of a rift only grew worse. Their fanbases bickered endlessly over it.

But the two at the center of the storm?
Never once responded.

“If you’re going to spin it that way, am I allowed to ask you something?”
Su Qian turned toward the host with a faint, cold smile. Her foxlike eyes narrowed.
“Is your obsession with my relationship with Tang Tang also part of your self-marketing strategy?”

“And your tie is crooked. That’s very disrespectful.”

Wait, what?

Did… did he just offend this queen of ice?

The male host scrambled to adjust his tie, not daring to meet her eyes.

Everyone knew Su Qian seemed gentle and friendly.

But they also knew that the last person who dared to mess with her ended up unemployed and scratching his foot at home for months.

“Exactly! Mind your own business, ugly!”

Watching Su Qian smack down the cocky host, Tang Tang’s mood visibly improved.
She turned back and shot the host a fierce glare, then rolled her eyes and strutted off with Su Qian.

Hmph. So what if she was a “nobody”? Try picking on her again now.
Did he not realize who had her back?

The entire awards ceremony was being livestreamed.
Multiple camera angles zoomed in on everyone’s faces—even Tang Tang’s smug little smirk didn’t escape.

The livestream chat exploded.

“Ahhhh this is totally CEO x her soft little wife vibes. Who still thinks they hate each other?”
“What’s with Tang Tang’s smug face? Wait a minute… am I shipping this for real?”
“Omg Tang Tang looks so obedient next to Su Qian! She’s tiny! They match so well!”
“Big Beauty + Cute Bean = Ultimate Yuri fantasy.”
“Someone go bring the marriage registry office over here right now—STAT.”

…

Tang Tang followed behind Su Qian with dainty little steps.
She was terrible in heels, especially the high, thin kind, and walking across the thick carpet made it even worse.

Damn you, Su Qian. You could at least slow down.

Grumbling internally, Tang Tang glared at the woman’s back with eyes half-hidden under her bangs, mentally willing a hole to burn through her.

The walk from the stage to the backstage area was long.
Thanks to the confetti launch earlier, the red carpet was littered with ribbons and paper scraps.

Wobbling in her heels, holding one hand on the railing and the other clutching her heavy skirt, Tang Tang’s heart fizzed with a sour ache, like a shaken bottle of Sprite.

She was the one who made me “play nice” in public— so why, the second we’re off camera, does it feel like we’re total strangers again? Does she really hate me that much?

Her chest tight with frustration, Tang Tang slowed even further.
Finally, she just gave up and squatted by the wall, sulking.

“Shoes hurting?” Su Qian’s familiar voice came from above.
Tang Tang looked up, meeting eyes that hadn’t yet masked their concern.

“If they’re too uncomfortable, switch to flats. Everyone’s seated anyway—no one will see your feet. By the way, is your agent here?”

Su Qian reflexively reached out to check Tang Tang’s ankle for injuries, but caught herself just in time, awkwardly pulling her hand back.

“She left already.” Still squatting, Tang Tang’s voice carried a tinge of grievance.
“I thought it’d just be a quick red carpet. Didn’t know it’d be this long…”

Right. This is her first time at something like this too.

Su Qian sighed silently, silently cursing her friend Shen Jia.
Red Star Entertainment was the second-largest agency in the country—how could they not even assign Tang Tang a proper agent?

“Can you stand? Other guests will be coming through soon.”
Su Qian checked her ankle again. No swelling—relief.

She gestured for her assistant and had her flats delivered.
“Next time, bring a backup pair. Trust me, by the end, it’ll feel like you’re walking on knives.”

“What about you?” Tang Tang sniffled, limping along in the borrowed shoes.
“I took yours—now what do you wear?”

“Me?” Su Qian tossed her hair and strode forward in her heels, each step full of icy queen energy.
“There’s no heel yet that can defeat me.”

Tch. Just keep pretending, why don’t you…

Once all the guests had entered, the ceremony finally reached the awards portion.

Tang Tang wasn’t really interested.
She’d always been the site’s eternal runner-up. Her writing never quite reached Su Qian’s level, and after Su Qian’s entertainment debut, her popularity outpaced Tang Tang’s by miles.

Every year, she’d watched that “Most Influential Author” title slip away.

“Hey, airhead. Try paying attention—it’s the awards ceremony.”

Su Qian leaned closer, teasing, “Think how sad BlueLit City must be right now.”

She was so close, her citrusy perfume drifted into Tang Tang’s nose.

Tang Tang frowned slightly.
She recognized the scent instantly: “Encounter.”
It was the perfume she had gifted Su Qian
when they first met.

Suddenly, her emotions swirled into a storm.

It was like time had frozen
the moment Su Qian walked away.

She still used the same Weibo handle they’d first followed each other with.
Still wore the perfume Tang Tang gave her.
Even Tang Tang herself… still had the same habits.
Like eating vanilla ice cream with hotpot in a room with the heater blasting.

But time frozen couldn’t fix a broken connection.
It was like a faded fresco wall—one touch, and it crumbled to dust.

“Citrus doesn’t suit you anymore.
You’re too old to play innocent little girls.”

For a second, Su Qian’s perfect smile cracked.

Seeing that, Tang Tang couldn’t help but grin, finally scoring a hit.

“And now—let’s reveal this year’s Most Influential Author.”

The host followed the usual script.
Tang Tang tilted her head slightly, already preparing a smile to congratulate Su Qian.

Business is business. I can fake a smile with the best of them.

“This author is quite lowkey. She’s never attended a BlueLit offline event before. She is—Tang Tang.”

Applause erupted. Fellow authors stood to greet her.

Stunned, Tang Tang turned to Su Qian, mind spinning with a single thought—Su Qian’s definitely up to something.

“Go on,” Su Qian whispered beside her, giving her a quick hug.
“You’ve waited years for this. Don’t you want it?”

Does this… really count as “getting what I wanted”?

Tang Tang walked to the stage, dazed.
Even after receiving the trophy, she hadn’t processed it.

Normally, winners were notified in advance.
No message? No award.

Now, holding this hot potato of a trophy,
Tang Tang glanced at Su Qian, sitting calmly in her seat.

The editors wouldn’t mix her up.
Even her team—useless as they were—wouldn’t miss something this big.

Only one explanation remained:

Su Qian gave up the award. On purpose.

But… why?

The question squirmed in her heart like a hundred tiny ants.

She had to ask. Maybe it mattered—for both of them.

After the ceremony, Tang Tang chased Su Qian down as she was about to leave.

“Su Qian, I need to ask you something. Can we just talk this time? No arguing.”

“Huh? You’re looking for me?”

Su Qian raised a brow, clearly surprised.
She tossed her hair, took a coat from her assistant, and led Tang Tang to a quiet corner, barefoot now in her tights.

It was a tight space. They were practically touching.
Warm breath brushed across each other’s cheeks.
Tang Tang, nervous and still, thought she felt a soft pat on her head.

“You’ve grown taller,” Su Qian said softly.
“So? What did you want to ask?”

“That award… Did you give it to me on purpose?”

Tang Tang forced herself to hold her gaze, but those teasing eyes made her doubt she’d ever get a real answer.

“Standing alone at the top gets boring. So I thought I’d find myself a playmate.”

Su Qian’s smile was still lazy, as if the whole thing didn’t matter.

“Anything else, little dummy?”

Of course!

So many things!

Tang Tang frowned, mentally sorting through what to ask.

She wanted to yell:
Why am I your ‘playmate’?
Is it because I’m just famous enough to amuse you?
Or… do I really matter to you?

But she didn’t dare.
She was too scared the answer would leave her no room for denial.

Her pretty brows drooped with frustration, lips pursed, a pitiful little ball of tangled emotion.

Su Qian, seeing it, felt a pang of guilt.
She was cold, but not that cold.

“Su Qian… three years ago…why did you choose her?”

Time passed—long enough for Su Qian’s agent to start peeking at them.

Tang Tang finally bit her lip and asked.

You don’t know… how much it hurt, seeing you with her.

Of course, she didn’t say that part aloud.

“Oh. That?”

Su Qian’s smile returned.
She almost looked like she found the question… childish.

With a snap of her fingers, she said, “I was twenty-three, Tang Tang. I couldn’t keep playing house with a kid like you forever.”

Of course.
All Su Qian ever talked about was “adult choices,” “rational decisions,” cold, logical, emotionless.

Tang Tang turned away, disappointed.
She carefully placed the flats down in front of Su Qian.

“I get it. Here are your shoes. I’ll have my agent send you a new pair tomorrow.”

Su Qian watched her retreating figure.
She leaned back against the white wall, her gaze dark with regret.

“Little dummy…You didn’t come to my birthday either. I turned twenty-three alone.”