Hi, Wifey! [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 1

Fu Xia truly couldn’t understand why her simple exam well-wishes had ended up trending.

Even more baffling was how Cheng Wanyu’s exam blessings had also gone viral. Scrolling through her phone, Fu Xia stared at their two hashtags sitting side by side, feeling nothing but discomfort.

Cheng Wanyu’s Gaokao Blessings
Fu Xia’s Identical Gaokao Blessings

Clicking on the latest Weibo notification, Fu Xia reread her own post:
“Wishing everyone knows what’s tested, guesses what’s right, aces every question, and passes every exam! (🌸✨😉)”
She couldn’t pinpoint what had gone wrong—it was just a generic blessing she’d copied online to engage with fans. Yet somehow, she’d ended up echoing Cheng Wanyu.

Cheng Wanyu’s latest post read:
“Wishing everyone knows what’s tested and passes every exam.”
Even the tiny period at the end was as composed as Cheng Wanyu herself—unlike Fu Xia’s emoji-laden mess.

Soon, Fu Xia’s comment section was flooded. A quick scroll revealed nothing but vitriol:
“‘Guesses what’s right’? Couldn’t you say something nicer? Are you implying we’ve studied for years just to wing our exams?”
“Our success comes from hard work! Stop spewing nonsense!”
“Copying Wanyu? More like a talentless hack trying to mimic a legend. Stick to being a pretty face.”

A few of Fu Xia’s fans tried damage control:
“It’s just a common blessing. Why the outrage?”
“Xia was being kind! Name one other celeb who’d bother encouraging brats like you.”
“Too much free time. Their teachers should assign more homework to shut them up.”

Fu Xia skimmed a few more before tossing her phone onto the coffee table and collapsing onto the couch.

All she’d wanted was to cheer students up during exam season. How had encouragement turned into backlash?

Just then, her assistant walked in, frowning at her deflated state. “What’s wrong? You look miserable.”

Fu Xia stared blankly at the ceiling. “Posted on Weibo. Got roasted again.”

The assistant scanned the comments and patted her shoulder. “Happens to every celeb. Besides, not all of it’s hate—some are compliments.”

Fu Xia sighed. “They said I sound awful.”
Assistant: “Only because your words can’t match your singing.”
Fu Xia: “They said I’m ‘spewing nonsense.'”
Assistant: “That just means you’re warm, profound, and refreshingly real—unlike all those fake flatterers.”
Fu Xia: “…They called me a talentless hack.”
Assistant slapped her thigh: “That’s code for ‘gorgeous with a killer figure.’ How is any of this hate? They’re practically worshipping you!”

Fu Xia found it unbelievable: “You’re right. So, they really were complimenting me.”

The assistant quickly pulled her up and said to Fu Xia, “So you misunderstood. Your fans love you dearly. Look, they’re praising your singing, saying how beautiful you are. Shouldn’t you get up and get back to work now?”

Comforted by these words, Fu Xia’s mood instantly brightened. She reached out for her phone, saying, “Let me see what else they’re praising me for!”

The assistant swiftly grabbed the phone and stuffed it into her pocket, pointing at Fu Xia. “Don’t get too caught up in comparisons—just focus on being yourself! Go get your makeup done right now. We have to attend the opening ceremony soon and can’t miss it.”

“But I want to see more of their compliments.”

“Go get your makeup done first. I’ll stand by and read them to you, okay?”

“Fine, then I’ll trouble you with that!”

“No problem at all!”

During the makeup session, the assistant showered Fu Xia with exaggerated praise from the comments, tactfully rephrasing the harsher ones. Fu Xia listened with delight, while the makeup artist couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene before continuing her work.

From her debut as a child star at six to now, Fu Xia had spent fifteen years in the industry. She had taken on all kinds of projects—TV dramas, movies, commercials, even albums—yet she remained neither particularly popular nor obscure.

Though the entertainment industry didn’t emphasize academic credentials, Fu Xia was often criticized for her roles in poorly received films, labeled as a “pretty face” or “airhead.” The kinder nicknames weren’t much better—”Queen of Bad Movies,” for instance. She didn’t take it too much to heart; it was true her acting wasn’t stellar, and she had starred in quite a few flops recently. It was only natural audiences and fans weren’t impressed.

Fu Xia couldn’t help but think of Cheng Wanyu, who had debuted just three years ago. The two shared some similarities—both fair-skinned, with long black hair and tall, striking figures. Standing silently, they could both pass as stunning beauties.

But the moment they spoke, the difference became clear. Cheng Wanyu was eloquent and well-read, winning awards within three years of her debut. In contrast, Fu Xia, after fifteen years, had only a handful of accolades to her name—even mocked that if there were an award for worst films, she’d surely have a place.

As a result, their fans often clashed, sometimes even physically. It pained Fu Xia deeply.

Why couldn’t they just enjoy the beauty of these actresses instead of being so vicious?

Why was it so hard for the world to embrace harmony, for people to coexist peacefully and contentedly…

With a long sigh, Fu Xia propped her chin on her hand, gazing out the car window. But the tinted privacy film made everything outside appear hazy, which only worsened her mood.

They were currently en route to the opening ceremony. The assistant was busy managing schedules on her tablet when she noticed Fu Xia leaning against the window again. She rapped her knuckles against the car frame as a warning. “Don’t press against the window. What if someone sees you?”

Resting her chin on her hand, Fu Xia murmured, “It’s sealed so tight—who could possibly see?”

The driver chimed in, “Xiaxia, listen to Assistant Zhou. If you sit so close to the window, you might bump into it if I brake suddenly.”

Seeing both the driver and the assistant insist, Fu Xia reluctantly moved away from the car window and sat in the middle of the back seat, idly playing with her hair. Watching Fu Xia pout obediently, the assistant sighed and said, “Xiaxia, during the opening ceremony later, you’ll be standing next to the director to offer incense and pray. Make sure you don’t stand in the wrong spot.”

Fu Xia gave a small “Mm” in response while twirling her curly hair, signaling her agreement.

The journey from their accommodation to the temple where the opening ceremony was held took over an hour. The temple was bustling with worshippers, and the crew had reserved the noon slot, currently clearing out unrelated visitors.

As the female lead, Fu Xia carried no airs of a celebrity—if anything, she was somewhat laid-back. Since not everyone had arrived yet, she stayed in the car to avoid unnecessary greetings, which suited her assistant just fine.

Rumors had it that the film’s investor was incredibly generous, pouring several hundred million into the project. Yet, aside from the director, no one had ever seen the investor’s face, sparking quiet speculation.

Meanwhile, Fu Xia curled up in the car with her phone, scrolling through the morning’s comments. Whether due to moderation or not, her Weibo comments were overwhelmingly positive, filled with praise for her kindness and sincerity. The blessed students were encouraged to study hard, strive for excellence, and jointly create a new era of socialist glory!

The flood of celebratory well-wishes in the comments section, as if marking a grand occasion, eased Fu Xia’s mind.

Just then, she noticed a comment with over two thousand likes rising to the top:

ChengFu shippers rejoice!

The term piqued her curiosity. Clicking in, she found the replies just as warm and harmonious.

Chengcheng and Xiaxia’s relationship is so beautiful—so tolerant and understanding. It’s because of people like you that we students can focus on our studies without worries!

Xiaxia’s gentleness and Chengcheng’s calmness make this scorching summer feel less harsh. June skies may be hot, but the world is blessed with ChengFu!

True warmth exists in this world, and it touches every heart! With Chengcheng and Xiaxia blessing us in turn, we’ll surely live up to your expectations!

Seeing that someone finally understood her blessings, Fu Xia was overjoyed. She immediately liked the ChengFu shippers rejoice! comment and even left a reply: Study hard!

Putting her phone down, she felt her mood lift entirely. It was because of these lovely people supporting her that she could keep going on this path for so long. Though… Fu Xia glanced at her phone, musing—what exactly was this “ChengFu party”?

But she didn’t have time to ponder further. Her assistant pulled her out of the car to meet the director before the ceremony began.

Following the director, Fu Xia listened as her assistant rattled off reminders under the shade of an umbrella. The heat made her fan herself with a small hand fan, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed another person walking nearby, also shielded by an umbrella.

Tall and dressed in a plain white T-shirt with jeans and white sneakers, the other lead of the film—Cheng Wanyu—walked gracefully beside her.

Fu Xia couldn’t help but glance at her white sneakers, then slowly lowered her gaze to look at her own pair of white shoes.

Oh no, they were wearing the same shoes.

Fu Xia sighed deeply—it seemed she’d soon be facing another round of criticism from Cheng Wanyu’s fans.