Her Rose on Camera - Chapter 4
Chapter 4: Argument
Twenty-three years old?
Tang Tang froze for a moment, and couldn’t help recalling that chaotic, confusing afternoon.
She didn’t want to peel back the mess and revisit it. Instead, she shut her eyes in pain.
That period had been too bitter—so bitter that whenever she looked back, all the sweetness between her and Su Qian would instantly be forgotten.
But Tang Tang’s hesitation looked like reminiscence in Su Qian’s eyes. Su Qian sighed, suddenly not understanding why she bothered talking sense to someone younger than herself.
“Forget it. Let’s not talk about it anymore.”
Su Qian sighed, her face rarely showing signs of fatigue. She flicked her hair and then smiled and waved goodbye to Tang Tang. “Bye, silly kid. See you on the show.”
“Su Qian…”
Tang Tang’s lips trembled as she tried to call her back. She wanted Su Qian to give her some kind of signal—maybe an apology or an explanation.
Anything but this—being attentive one moment and then acting like nothing mattered the next.
Su Qian’s car drove away right before Tang Tang’s eyes. The yellow taillights lit up the empty space around her, dust dancing in the beams.
You were the one who abandoned me first…
Tang Tang hugged her arms in the growing darkness, glancing around in panic. She suddenly realized that not letting Dong Yu pick her up had been a mistake.
All these years, she had assumed the grudge between her and Su Qian came from the other’s guilt. Naively, she believed that one day, when Su Qian cooled down, they’d return to how they used to be.
She never thought that, after three years of circling back, Su Qian would also harbor resentment toward her—complicated feelings neither of them could explain.
What should she do now?
Tang Tang panicked. Finally, before she froze to death, she called Dong Yu.
“Dong Yu, can you come pick me up at the venue? I… I can’t get home on my own.” Her voice trembled—whether from Su Qian abandoning her or the freezing cold, she couldn’t tell.
Thankfully, Dong Yu hadn’t gone far. Within minutes, her car pulled up at the venue.
Tang Tang stood barefoot on the freezing pavement, wrapped in a black down coat, her makeup smudged from crying.
“Tang Tang-jie, what happened to you?”
Dong Yu helped her into the car and floored the gas pedal. “Did you get into a fight with Su Qian-jie? Do you want me to contact her agent?”
Usually, if artists clashed privately, their managers would notify each other—not just to keep things professional, but also to manage any PR crisis before it exploded.
“She knows.”
Tang Tang had calmed down a little. She stared silently out the window, her voice distant. “Her manager was watching the whole time. And… we didn’t even argue.”
“Oh…”
Dong Yu nodded but couldn’t help growing more curious about their relationship.
If there wasn’t a fight but Tang Tang ended up this heartbroken, then there was only one explanation—they must’ve dug up old wounds.
They sped through the quiet streets, making it back to Tang Tang’s apartment in half the usual time.
The layout and decor of this apartment were Su Qian’s preferences. Tang Tang had bought it intending to surprise her on her twenty-third birthday.
“We’ll have our own little home, and live quietly together.”
No more cutthroat battles for fame, no more drinking alone in the back of a car after midnight.
That was Tang Tang’s simple definition of a home. But clearly, it wasn’t Su Qian’s.
“Tang Tang-jie, I’ll walk you upstairs.”
Dong Yu unlocked the door with practiced ease, then helped Tang Tang to the sofa. Seeing her still shivering, she went to the kitchen to make her a bowl of ginger soup.
“Drink it while it’s hot. It’ll warm you up.”
She placed the bowl in front of Tang Tang. Dong Yu had seen Tang Tang acting spoiled and proud so many times, but this beaten-down version of her made her sigh a little.
“Forget it.”
The sight of the ginger soup made Tang Tang tear up again. She wiped her eyes, curled up with a stuffed animal, and stared blankly into space.
Back then, every time they came home from an event in the winter, Su Qian would make ginger soup for her. And now, that same person had left her out in the cold for so long without a second thought.
How heartless.
“I’ll turn the lights off now.”
Dong Yu didn’t stay long. The literary awards had just ended, and every agency was scrambling to push PR articles. Everyone was burning the midnight oil to get their artists to the top of the trending charts.
Tang Tang didn’t respond. She watched the room return to darkness, her lifeless eyes fixated on the ceiling.
Memories of her time with Su Qian replayed endlessly in her mind, making her already heavy heart sink even further.
She shouldn’t have asked that question. Tang Tang stared up, reflecting. That incident had been a shared wound—how could she…
She shut her eyes in regret, tears sliding down silently.
In her haze, Tang Tang fell into a vivid dream—The world around her was tinged with the warm yellow of old photographs. Looking at the familiar surroundings, she realized she had returned to the time they first met.
She followed the path forward until she arrived at that familiar bookstore, where twenty-year-old Su Qian stood at the door.
She wore a dark green qipao with golden embroidery, and a soft cream-colored shawl draped over her shoulders—it was early winter, after all. Her figure was graceful and elegant, made even more striking by the fitted qipao. Loose waves cascaded down her shoulders, making her look like a rich girl straight out of a painting.
Su Qian was smiling sweetly, chatting with a few book fans. She wore gold-rimmed glasses, adding a scholarly charm to her otherwise delicate features.
Tang Tang couldn’t help but walk closer. She picked up a book, just about to strike up a conversation, when Su Qian placed her hand over the one Tang Tang was reaching for.
Flicking her hair lazily, she flashed a smile. “Silly kid, are you even old enough? Grown-up books aren’t for children.”
Everything played out just like it had in her memory. Tang Tang held back tears and repeated the same words from their first meeting—after all, even if it was just a dream, she could talk to Su Qian a little longer.
“Of course I’m an adult. Want to see my ID?” Tang Tang proudly took out her brand-new ID card, her face full of playful pride. “You’re just looking at me through tinted glasses!”
Her smile was so bright that Su Qian paused for a second before letting the offense go. She took out a pen and signed her name on the title page of the book Tang Tang bought.
“Then I hope you never become a boring adult like me, okay?”
“Su Qian…” The memory was too beautiful. Tang Tang couldn’t help blurting out her long-suppressed feelings. “Wait for me, okay? Don’t go falling for someone else…”
As she said those words, the dream began to collapse—first the alleyway she’d just walked through, then the bookstore behind them, and finally, the smiling Su Qian in front of her.
And in the very end, she heard Su Qian say:
“No.”
“Su Qian! Su Qian!”
Tang Tang woke up crying, trembling from the lingering fear in her dream.
She was going to lose Su Qian—soon, very soon.
Her phone, charging on the floor, vibrated suddenly. Tang Tang walked over, noticing several missed calls.
They were from an unknown number without a contact name, but the IP address was local. Tang Tang hesitated, then stopped herself from calling back.
What if it was a paparazzo? she worried, her thoughts spinning. She didn’t want to, didn’t dare add any more fuel to the already fragile situation between them.
Sitting back on the sofa, she scrolled aimlessly through Weibo.
On the trending list, her and Su Qian’s names were side by side—separated only by their CP tag.
Bored, she clicked on the hashtag #SuTang#. The top post was a fan-edited video of one of their earliest appearances together.
The title, likely written by an old fan, was poignantly sentimental: That was when we were still young, still believed in forever.
Tang Tang covered her face with her hands. Tears slipped through her fingers and soaked a patch of her clothes. She scrolled through the comments below.
@MySugarTang: This video hit me hard—long-time fan here, crying.
@MoonlightCharmed: After seeing their interaction today, I thought it was already super shippable. But their past… it was even more precious.
@5n: Sigh, tonight’s ceremony really brought back memories. I hope both our girls walk a path full of flowers.
…
The CP fans’ comments made Tang Tang even sadder. At that moment, her phone rang—Tian Qingqing was calling.
“Hello?” Tang Tang picked up weakly. This photographer and old classmate had been working abroad for a long time. Tang Tang wasn’t sure why she was calling now.
“Finally! Took you long enough to pick up, big star.”
Tian Qingqing’s cheerful laugh came through the phone, her tone light and casual, showing no awkwardness despite the time apart. “What’s with your voice? You sound down—are you sick?”
“No.”
Maybe it was because she’d finally found someone she could talk to, but Tang Tang’s voice cracked with emotion. “I’ve just been busy…”
“So… you and Su Qian had a fight?” Tian Qingqing didn’t know about the fallout between them. She’d been overseas the whole time, and Tang Tang had always hidden the bad stuff.
She remembered when she left, it was during the peak of their flirtation. Tang Tang had almost missed Tian’s flight just to send Su Qian off.
If Su Qian had been willing to tolerate the immature Tang Tang back then, surely things wouldn’t be too bad now?
“We didn’t fight.”
Tang Tang thought back carefully over everything that had happened. To her surprise, they hadn’t even argued. They’d just slowly vanished from each other’s lives without leaving a trace.
“Qingqing… Su Qian doesn’t want me anymore. Not ever again.”