How To Deal With Being Transmigrated As The Scumbag Ex-Wife - Chapter 29

29: Heaven’s Favorite Daughter, Confirmed

When the Look Up crew attended the award ceremony, domestic netizens were already in a frenzy.

The reason? Some troublemakers online claimed that if a “trash film” like February 19th could win a Special Attention Award, it would’ve easily made the Main Competition shortlist. By that logic, Look Up’s quality must be mediocre too.

Netizens who supported Look Up to bash February 19th felt insulted. They irrationally pinned their hopes on Look Up winning awards to prove they were right about February 19th. If Look Up won, it validated their stance; if it didn’t, they’d feel slapped in the face, and their frustration would turn on Yu Qingjia.

A few rational netizens tried to argue that such claims were illogical, making the shortlist was already a huge affirmation of Look Up, award or not. But netizens were easily swayed, and most, caught up in the heat, ignored reason.

Many, intentionally or not, placed Yu Qingjia on a pedestal. If Look Up left the festival empty-handed, she’d crash hard.

This gave Xinghui’s PR team a headache. They worked overtime to guide public opinion, but the opposing voices were too loud, and most netizens, whipped into a frenzy, wouldn’t listen.

Meanwhile, at the Kyoto International Film Festival—

Yu Qingjia walked the red carpet with Pan Xing and male lead Ke Shi. Ke Shi, delayed by family matters, hadn’t flown with them, arriving at the hotel the previous night and getting styled early that morning.

The red carpet was lined with reporters, media, and fans. When Yu Qingjia and her team appeared, cameras flashed wildly, capturing their every move.

“It’s the Look Up crew!”

“Pan Xing! It’s Xiao Xing!”

“Is that gorgeous woman in front the director? She’s so pretty!”

“The director of Look Up is such a young woman? She also made the Star Making Plan, so talented!”

“Pan Xing’s dress is stunning, she’s like a fairy!”

Foreign voices mixed with some halting Chinese. Yu Qingjia took a moment to realize they were shouting her and Pan Xing’s names.

Pan Xing, who’d been so nervous her hands shook earlier, now faced the cameras with poise. Ke Shi, however, looked pale with nerves.

Once a star, Ke Shi had faded after marriage. Landing a role in Look Up was a rare chance, and attending an international festival was overwhelming, he hadn’t faced such attention in years.

“Director Yu, over here!”

A clear Mandarin voice cut through the noise, catching Yu Qingjia’s attention. She adjusted her expression and saw a film channel reporter snapping photos.

Smiling at the camera, she asked casually, “How long have you been waiting here?”

“Not long—since the ceremony started,” the reporter replied.

A-list festivals kept things straightforward, with no flashy extras and a concise flow.

The red carpet was brief. After a few photos, the next crew was up. The reporter asked, “Can we book an exclusive interview with you after the ceremony?”

Yu Qingjia nodded, smiling. “No problem.”

The reporter offered sincere wishes. “Then I’ll catch you after. For now, I’m wishing Look Up a big win!”

Inside the venue, Yu Qingjia’s team sat in the second row by the aisle. Amusingly, River Reflection’s crew was in front, and Mother’s crew was across the aisle.

Director Takeshi Furushiro, a young director in his thirties who’d studied at Beijing Film Academy and knew Chinese cinema well, spoke fluent Mandarin. When Yu Qingjia’s team sat, he excitedly said, “Are you the Look Up crew?”

Yu Qingjia smiled politely, and Furushiro’s face lit up. “I watched your film, your lens interpretation is incredible!”

As they chatted, Pan Xing whispered to Ke Shi, “Notice how that director’s looking at Director Yu? Kinda weird, right?”

Ke Shi glanced over and shrugged. “Seems normal. Director Yu’s young and talented. But I think he looks like he wants to apprentice under her.”

Pan Xing raised an eyebrow, about to respond, when Yu Qingjia said, “What are you two whispering about?”

The shortlisted crews had all entered, and the host was introducing the jury, three of whom Yu Qingjia recognized as renowned directors from Japan and Korea.

“Nothing.” Pan Xing said, shaking her head. “Director Yu, say something—I’m nervous.”

Yu Qingjia gave her an odd look. “Alright, wishing you Best Actress.”

Pan Xing froze, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “I wouldn’t dare dream that big. Say something else.”

This was an international festival, and several nominated actresses were acclaimed international stars—she didn’t think she measured up.

Ke Shi chimed in, “I heard February 19th got a Special Attention Award. What’s that?”

February 19th won something?

Yu Qingjia hadn’t noticed but wasn’t surprised. February 19th wasn’t terrible; it had Zhou Jin’s distinct style, and its editor covered his flaws. Winning wasn’t shocking.

“It’s an award for recognizing progress and encouraging further growth,” she said. “Basically a consolation prize, not a big deal.”

Ke Shi wanted to say more, but the festival chair took the stage to announce awards.

As the chair stepped up, the venue hushed. He opened the winner’s list and said concisely, “The 21st Kyoto International Film Festival Audience Award goes to—”

“River Reflection!”

Thunderous applause erupted. Yu Qingjia had expected this, River Reflection topped audience votes. Many viewers didn’t care about depth; they craved sensory thrills, and River Reflection was a tailor-made industrial film, naturally popular.

Though Yu Qingjia stayed composed, Pan Xing couldn’t hide her disappointment. With only seven major awards, each miss lowered their chances. Even knowing they might win nothing, who didn’t dream of a trophy?

Next was the Best Artistic Contribution Award, won by an East Asian crew.

While clapping, Yu Qingjia noticed Pan Xing’s clenched fist and whispered, “Relax, Best Actress is yours.”

Pan Xing’s nerves eased slightly, and she half-joked, “If I don’t get it, you owe me one.”

She said it lightly, not expecting much against such strong competition. Being invited was already a huge affirmation.

Yu Qingjia smiled. “Deal. I’ll make you a custom trophy, Best Jia Girl.”

As they chatted, the presenter announced the Best Actress Award:

“The Best Actress Award goes to—”

“Pan Xing from the Look Up crew!”

“Pan Xing!”

“Pan Xing won!”

Hearing her name, Pan Xing froze, her mind blank. She turned to Yu Qingjia, seeing everyone staring at her.

Yu Qingjia nudged her. “Go on, what’re you sitting there for?”

Snapping back, Pan Xing hurried to the stage, nearly tripping but caught by a quick hand.

The film channel was live-streaming the ceremony. When Pan Xing was announced as Best Actress, the chat briefly lagged, then exploded—

“Xiao Xing is the best!!! She’s an international star now!”

“Why am I crying? It’s like watching my daughter grow up!”

“Pan Xing got Best Actress! Look Up rocks! Pan Xing rocks!”

“Look Up won! Haters can suck it!”

“She was so excited she almost fell lol.”

Some bashed Yu Qingjia, but their comments were quickly buried.

Sitting below, Yu Qingjia sighed in relief. With this award, Pan Xing’s career would soar—a fitting compensation.

“I’m honored to receive this award. Thank you to the committee for recognizing me, to the Look Up crew, and our director, Yu Qingjia…”

Pan Xing’s eyes reddened as she spoke, holding back tears. She kissed the trophy and walked off, holding her dress.

Seeing her trophy, Yu Qingjia congratulated her, and Ke Shi leaned in, teasing, “Director Yu, you think I’ve got a shot?”

Yu Qingjia nodded boldly. “Sure. If you don’t win, I’ll get you one.”

But the Best Actor winner wasn’t Ke Shi.

Everyone knew Look Up’s male lead had limited screen time, leaving little room to shine.

Ke Shi sighed regretfully. “Dang, no luck. You promised me one, Director Yu.”

“No problem, I’ll deliver,” she said.

Winning Best Actress boosted Pan Xing’s confidence in Look Up. She felt it could snag more, like Best Director…

“The Best Director Award goes to—”

“Takeshi Furushiro!”

As the announcement came, cameras had already zoomed in on Yu Qingjia, who, unaware, showed no reaction, calmly clapping for Furushiro with genuine congratulations.

“Aw, a bit disappointing, but it’s already great—Best Actress is huge!”

“Two awards left. Slim chance, but what if luck strikes?”

“Let’s go, they already got one—greedy for more? Dream on.”

“I’ll wait. The second princess is uncanny, impossible things happen to her. What if she wins?”

The ceremony neared its end, with only the Sakura Award and a Special Award, which went to River Reflection. As the chair opened the final list, the room fell silent, all eyes on the top prize.

Even Pan Xing clenched her jaw, while Yu Qingjia absently toyed with her trophy.

She was hungry. To avoid any mishaps at the ceremony, she hadn’t eaten, and now she was starving.

“The 21st Kyoto International Film Festival Sakura Award goes to—”

“Director Yu Qingjia’s Look Up!”

“Director Yu! We won! Get up there!”

“I knew you could do it!”

Furushiro, hearing the result, was more excited than for his own win. “As expected of Director Yu, this award belongs to you!”

At the mention of Look Up, surprise flashed across Yu Qingjia’s face. She quickly composed herself, smiled gracefully, and walked to the stage.

Taking the trophy from the chair, she held it up, took a deep breath, and said, “I didn’t expect the committee to award the Sakura Award to Look Up. I’m deeply honored. Thank you for your recognition, and thanks to Pan Xing and Ke Shi for their performances. I know some think I’m too inexperienced, unworthy of this award. But prejudice is fleeting. I’ll prove myself with my work.”

“Thank you!”

Amid thunderous applause, the Kyoto Film Festival concluded.

…

News of Look Up winning the Sakura Award and Best Actress sparked heated domestic discussion. Those waiting for Yu Qingjia to flop were stunned—she’d not only held her ground but soared, making their attacks a ladder for her success.

“First film grossed 1.7 billion, second film won an A-list festival’s top award. Third-rate novels wouldn’t dare write this.”

“Whoa, is Yu Qingjia really a genius?”

“Did the committee get bought off? Yu Qingjia won the Sakura Award?”

“Heaven’s favorite daughter, confirmed. This stuff only happens to her. I’m just an emotionless NPC. /tears”

Most celebrated passionately. They didn’t know Yu Qingjia’s journey, but that didn’t stop their joy. A Chinese film winning an international festival’s top award, wasn’t that worth celebrating?

As Look Up dominated discussions, some netizens noticed Zhou Jin deleted his earlier Weibo posts, prompting mockery:

“Wow, one slap wasn’t enough—he needed more. Now deleting posts to play dumb?”

“Second Princess said ‘we’ll see.’ Did you see, Ning? Like the result?”

“Hahahaha, Zhou Dog’s dumbfounded. Second Princess is just that good!”

When netizens rushed over, Zhou Jin had closed his comment section. Furious, they started a #February19thAward hashtag, mocking and @-ing him. Though the topic was quickly deleted, netizens felt satisfied.

…

“I’m sure many viewers are curious, why did you switch from acting to directing? Can you share the reason and story?”

Yu Qingjia chose her words carefully. “Mainly, the company needed directors, and I thought, why not me? So I switched.”

The reporter froze, his expression odd. That sounded too casual. If the three defecting directors heard this, they’d be livid—their departure had birthed such a genius.

Her debut raked in 1.7 billion, and within a year, her second film won an A-list festival’s top award. If that wasn’t genius, what was?

The reporter’s professionalism kicked in, and he adjusted. “Many say your filming techniques are mature, unlike a newcomer’s. What do you think of that?”

Yu Qingjia didn’t flinch, smiling faintly. “A director’s most important skill is aesthetic sense. Filming techniques? That’s the cinematographer’s job. I just express my vision and let them execute. How many directors shoot with the camera themselves?”

The reporter faltered, knowing she was dodging but unable to press further. He switched questions.

After several more, he asked, “With Look Up winning the Sakura Award, what are your plans for your next project?”

“No clear plans yet. I’ll rest for a bit.” Yu Qingjia said bluntly. “Maybe start a new project next year.”

After the interview, the reporter took a group photo of the Look Up crew with their trophies.

Post-interview, the crew held a celebration banquet. No one expected Look Up to win the top award, a thrill surpassing high box office. Though unreleased, with the Sakura Award and Best Actress, its box office was guaranteed to soar.

The banquet ended near 1 a.m., and Yu Qingjia returned to her hotel room, waking at noon to her phone ringing.

Per the original plan, the crew would return home post-festival, but with the Sakura Award, Yu Qingjia decided to stay in Kyoto for two more days—partly to dodge domestic media and partly because the awards reduced her promotional workload back home.

Struggling to open her eyes, she saw Ming Yin’s name on the screen. Burying herself in the pillow, she swiped to answer, holding the phone to her ear.

A soft, childish voice came through, carefully controlled. “Xiao Yu, are you up?”

Her sleepiness vanished. Yu Qingjia sat up, her voice still husky from sleep. “Yup, I’m up.”

“Have you eaten?” Xiao Lizhi’s voice brightened. “Can we eat together?”

Unable to refuse such an eager invitation, Yu Qingjia hung up, heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

Knock knock knock—

Dressed and ready, Yu Qingjia opened the door to a small figure hugging her leg. “Xiao Yu!”

Ming Yin stood outside, her dark hair and fair skin striking. She wore a light-colored dress, accentuating her slim waist, softer and gentler than her sharp CEO persona.

This Ming Yin felt unfamiliar yet intriguing to Yu Qingjia. She paused, then looked down at Xiao Lizhi, noticing her matching dress.

Parent-child outfits.

Before Yu Qingjia could speak, Ming Yin frowned. “You didn’t rest well?”

“Hm?” Yu Qingjia took a moment. “I’m fine, just slept late last night.”

Xiao Lizhi looked up, her grape-like eyes full of concern. “Oh, do you need to sleep more?”

Yu Qingjia grinned, ruffling her hair. “Nope, I’m good.”

“Then let’s go eat! I’m so hungry!”

…

After lunch, Ming Yin held Xiao Lizhi’s hand as they strolled, with Yu Qingjia beside them. Suddenly, a soft little hand slipped into her palm.

Before she could react, Xiao Lizhi grabbed half her hand. Yu Qingjia instinctively squeezed back, and the girl bounced happily, like a little rabbit.

Her cuteness brought a smile to Yu Qingjia’s face, but it froze when she glanced at Ming Yin.

They looked like two adults with a child, a family of three.

Yu Qingjia opened her mouth to speak, but Ming Yin cut in, warning Xiao Lizhi, “Don’t hop around. Watch your step, or you’ll fall.”

Sure enough, Xiao Lizhi stopped bouncing, but her smile shone brighter than the sun.

Yu Qingjia hesitated, catching Ming Yin’s puzzled look. “Something to say?”

“Um…” Yu Qingjia pursed her lips. “Nothing.” She looked away, missing Ming Yin’s slight smile.

Xiao Lizhi just wanted to hold her hand. Ming Yin probably didn’t think twice about it. Pointing it out would seem like overthinking.

Yu Qingjia pushed the odd thoughts aside, focusing on holding Xiao Lizhi’s hand.

A reporter captured the moment, and it spread back home.

As netizens celebrated Look Up’s win, an entertainment article quietly hit the hot search—

“Yu Qingjia’s New Romance? Spotted Strolling in Kyoto with Lover and Daughter”