Her Rose on Camera - chapter 7
Chapter 7: Scheming
After yelling at Su Qian, Tang Tang’s anger finally subsided a bit.
She pricked up her ears to listen to any noise on Su Qian’s side, and once she confirmed she probably wasn’t at a work site, she nervously pulled her ear away from the receiver.
Why had she lost her temper with Su Qian? She should’ve talked things out properly.
Was she mad?
The thought made Tang Tang’s beautiful brows furrow. Her fingers gripped the hem of her silk nightdress so tightly that the fabric snagged under her nails.
“All done?” came a soft laugh from the phone, followed by Su Qian’s familiar lazy voice. She sounded hoarse, like she had a cold. “So, what kind of response are you expecting from me?”
Her tone and words were just like back when they lived together and Su Qian would always say yes to anything she asked. Tang Tang hesitated, her earlier aggression suddenly gone.
Deep down, she still believed Su Qian would always tolerate her temper, would always be ready to absorb every bit of her negativity.
And for the past three years after they broke up, Su Qian had indeed been like that.
But now…
Tang Tang suddenly realized maybe she had been too selfishly dependent on Su Qian—and maybe Su Qian was tired of it.
“I didn’t mean to…” Tang Tang bit her lip, her voice low, as if it took her great effort to make up her mind. “Su Qian, if you think I’m being annoying, you can just hang up.”
Su Qian paused for a moment, not quite following how Tang Tang had arrived at that conclusion. She shook her head helplessly, chalking it up to Tang Tang still being stuck in her teen years.
“It’s late. I’ll hang up then.”
She paused again, and just as she heard Tang Tang’s breath catch, she added gently, “Happy New Year, silly girl.”
Her assistant had been waiting nearby with a contract the entire time. After hearing the call, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Su Qian-jie, why didn’t you just explain? That green tea clearly called the paparazzi—”
Before she could finish, Su Qian shut her up with a sharp glare. She then double-checked that she had indeed hung up the phone before speaking, “Xiao Li, don’t you think my current stance of neither admitting nor denying is the best move right now?”
The assistant froze. Just as she was about to ask more, Su Qian raised a finger to her lips, signaling silence.
That’s when the assistant noticed the faded ring mark on Su Qian’s ring finger. It looked like it came from a ring that didn’t fit, worn for too long—leaving behind a scar of pigment.
“Sugar & Su,” it read, if one looked closely at the necklace now resting against Su Qian’s throat. She absentmindedly toyed with the silver ring strung on it.
“Tang Tang’s childish, and she’s known Tian Qingqing for years. Plus, she knows I’m the jealous type.”
She smiled as she spoke, like a hunter waiting patiently in the shadows, eyes gleaming with certainty.
“She’d never believe me if I told her Qingqing was shady. She’d just think I was jealous and hated her out of spite. But if I say nothing, and one day Tian Qingqing gets exposed after using Tang Tang, she’ll only feel guilty—and make it up to me tenfold.”
Su Qian smiled as she said this. To her, Tang Tang wasn’t just someone she wanted to protect—she was prey, and Su Qian was waiting to make the kill.
“Su Qian-jie, what do we do now?”
Outside, snow had started to fall. The presidential suite in this foreign city felt chilly and desolate. Su Qian threw a shawl over her shoulders and opened her laptop. She pointed at the screen filled with Weibo profiles. “Have legal and PR screenshot everything. You know the drill.”
The assistant nodded, glancing at the many sneak photos of Tang Tang from different angles—clearly taken by Tian Qingqing’s alt accounts. Her scalp tingled.
Going up against Su Qian… was like kicking a steel wall.
…
Meanwhile, Tang Tang stared blankly at her phone, now showing the call had been disconnected.
Su Qian had actually hung up on her—for the first time since their breakup three years ago.
The phone flew in an arc and landed among plush toys on the sofa. Tang Tang huffed and buried herself in the blankets, unable to sleep.
That Su Qian! She had already sent her a New Year’s greeting and made peace, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Tian Qingqing a hundred times before. Why blow her top over a fake trending topic?
The more Tang Tang thought about it, the angrier she got. She flipped over and wrapped herself up like a cocoon.
She couldn’t even define her relationship with Su Qian anymore—and that frustrated her deeply.
If she wants to be jealous, fine, but why be so obvious about it and embarrass her like this?
Thinking about the trending topic Su Qian had liked exposing Qingqing’s dirt, Tang Tang felt another wave of frustration.
She wasn’t saying Su Qian couldn’t be jealous—but did she have to make it so public?
She pulled the blanket over her head like an ostrich hiding from her problems. She’d have to face Qingqing again soon and explain Su Qian’s actions—because, no matter what, Su Qian was still “her person,” right?
That phrase lifted her spirits slightly. These past three years, it wasn’t like she refused to forgive Su Qian—it’s just that Su Qian was as stubborn as a mule and never apologized.
Maybe she wasn’t as charming as when they first met anymore. Maybe Su Qian only liked her younger, more naive self?
Just as she was getting lost in thought, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Tian Qingqing.
“Tang Tang, I’m sorry. If this is making you uncomfortable, I’ll post a clarification in the morning.”
It sounded heartfelt. Tang Tang curled her lips in disdain and tossed the phone aside.
If she really meant it, she would’ve posted it already—not waited until now.
…
New Year’s night passed in chaos. On January 2nd, the variety show Traveling with My Bestie began announcing its guest list.
Tang Tang didn’t care much—she’d confirmed her participation long ago, and the storm that had come with it was already old news.
Lounging on her sofa, she munched a melon while watching the show’s Weibo account post guest announcements from minor celebs to rising internet stars.
The show’s concept focused on traditional culture, so many of the so-called “amateurs” were inheritors of various crafts.
Then came the influencers and C-list celebrities.
She scrolled lazily—until she saw Tian Qingqing’s name.
Suddenly, the melon wasn’t so sweet.
So she’s riding the same wave of hype, huh? This traffic better not only bleed her dry!
Just as she was about to tweet something cheeky, Tian Qingqing sent her a private message:
“Tang Tang, you don’t mind, right?”
Mind what? Tang Tang raised an eyebrow, finding it hard to respond. She pretended not to see it and focused on retweeting her own official promo—until another message popped up.
“Your “Special Attention” on Weibo shows you’re online. You once said you manage your own account.”
So obvious she wanted to talk—basically forcing her to reply.
Tang Tang frowned. In that moment, she realized just how much three years could change a person.
“What’s done is done. No point thinking about the consequences now. Good luck.”
Her reply was distant and cold, hoping Qingqing would take the hint and back off.
But then came the typing bubble, followed by a long message. Tang Tang skimmed it quickly, her attention landing on the last sentence:
“Tang Tang, you’re all I have left.”
The first time she heard that, she’d felt pity and wanted to help. Now… she was immune.
True friends helped each other, not took advantage without even a heads-up.
With a frown, Tang Tang stared at the keyboard, fingers hesitating—then sent a single message:
“This is Su Qian.”
The other side went quiet for a long time. Eventually, a new message came in:
“Sorry for bothering you. And… please tell Tang Tang I’m sorry.”
…
Meanwhile, in her van, Su Qian stared at Tian Qingqing’s Weibo with a sneer. “How’d she get on the show? She negotiated herself?”
“Yeah,” said her assistant. “She went to the director, saying her presence would add drama and unexpected storylines with you and Tang Tang.”
Su Qian laughed coldly, tapping her pink fingernails against the tablet. “Drama? She really thinks she’s not a joke already? Tell the studio to keep all records—and send me the location for filming. I swear I’ll teach her what happens when you touch something you shouldn’t.”