How To Deal With Being Transmigrated As The Scumbag Ex-Wife - Chapter 32

32: Shen Yiruo’s Meme

With Xiao Shao’s help, Yu Qingjia quickly arranged reliable bodyguards for Pan Xing.

If Shen Ru was really stalking Pan Xing, wasn’t she too idle? Maybe it was time to tip off Yu Qingyi and Ming Yin, Shen Ru couldn’t be left free to harm others.

When word of the bodyguards reached Madam Yu, she thought her youngest daughter was in trouble again. She grilled Yu Qingjia until she was sure nothing was wrong, finally relaxing.

Confirming her daughter was safe, Madam Yu’s worried expression turned to a smile. “I haven’t seen Zhizhi in ages. Why don’t you invite her over to play?”

“Come on, the more you say that, the less I dare to,” Yu Qingjia said, pursing her lips. It was Madam Yu who had Xiao Lizhi call her “grandma,” and even Old Yu kept asking when she’d bring the girl over so he could hear her call him “grandpa.”

What a mess. She was trying hard to keep her distance, but her family seemed eager to ship her off to Ming Yin’s house.

Madam Yu huffed. “What did I do? You overthink things. Zhizhi likes me, what’s that got to do with you?”

Sensing a lecture coming, Yu Qingjia quickly surrendered. “Yes yes, who wouldn’t want a grandma like you? Can I go now?”

Madam Yu snorted, displeased. “Go, go, hurry up. You’re so inconsiderate.”

Yu Qingjia: “…”

Not daring to linger, she skipped coaxing her mother and bolted out the door.

Elders at this age were impossible to reason with when they got serious. She understood their concern, but explaining herself was exhausting.

…

Unlike the universal praise for Star Making Plan, most critics who saw Look Up seemed to have agreed not to share their thoughts.

A netizen messaged the blogger “Big Talk Movies,” who responded:

“@BigTalkMoviesV: I wrote my Look Up review after the premiere, but it’s too full of insights to post without spoiling it. I can only say it deserves its awards. Go see it in theaters to support its box office. I’m in awe of @DirectorYuQingjia’s talent.”

This piqued netizens’ curiosity, and they eagerly awaited Look Up’s nationwide release on August 2 to support it in theaters.

After winning the Sakura Award, Yu Qingjia wasn’t worried about Look Up’s box office. The film was made to win awards, and with that achieved, breaking even with a small profit was enough. August’s lineup lacked big-budget films, featuring mostly comedies and romances, with Look Up leading the buzz. It might not top the box office, but it would earn its share.

Thanks to the award, Chen Ruo booked Yu Qingjia for numerous magazine interviews and talk shows, keeping her busy until the release day.

Within half a day of its release, Look Up’s reputation exploded. Curious netizens finally understood why the media doubted its box office: they’d rewatched Star Making Plan multiple times in theaters, but not Look Up, which was better suited for quiet, solitary viewing on a weekend night.

“Look Up is freaking awesome. The opening shots nail that oppressive, gloomy vibe. Director Yu’s color palette and cinematography are flawless, and the transitions between flashbacks and reality—I’m blown away!”

“I thought Look Up would be warm and uplifting, but it’s so cold and desperate. It resonated deeply, but I won’t watch it again. (Can’t keep crying in theaters—I’m a grown man, I’ve got pride.)”

“Lin Rui’s entrance was stunning. The grit in her eyes, Pan Xing’s beauty and aura are unmatched!”

“After watching, I get why the media’s skeptical. Look Up surpasses Star Making Plan in every way, but its box office won’t match. People go to theaters for fun, so it’s a bit sad.”

Beyond box office talk, the most discussed character wasn’t the protagonist Lin Rui or the male lead He Zheng, but the third female character, Shen Yiruo:

#TalkAboutTheShenYiruoInYourLife

Seeing this topic, Yu Qingjia was pleasantly surprised—it emerged faster than expected.

“This is the first time I’ve seen people curse during a movie, and I didn’t mind—I wanted to join in. The character of Shen Yiruo’s so real; her jealousy of Lin Rui is chilling. My best friend dealt with someone like that…”

“I’ve met a Shen Yiruo type. I thought the name was cool, but she’s a vile scumbag—ugh!”

“Add me to the cursing club! My husband and I saw it, and he was ranting about Shen Yiruo nonstop after, no repeats. /facepalm”

“Shen Yiruo’s disgusting, but the actor’s performance was great. I checked her Weibo, some people are attacking her. Please separate the character from the actor!”

…

Reading these discussions, Yu Qingjia couldn’t stop laughing. She knew it would happen. If it affected the real Shen Yiruo—

Perfect. That’s what she got for being so petty.

With “Shen Yiruo” going viral, Look Up’s opening day results came in.

Boosted by the Sakura Award and Star Making Plan’s success, Look Up grossed 63 million on its first day, the highest in August, outpacing the runner-up by 30 million.

It also scored 9.9 on Maomi ratings. Even Douzi, who often criticized Yu Qingjia’s commercialism, gave Look Up an 8.9, a stark shift from their earlier attacks, now praising her as if she’d “awakened” to film as art.

Such comments were laughable. Netizens didn’t bother discerning their sincerity—before release, some gave Look Up one-star reviews, only retracting after its festival nomination. Who’d take those seriously?

Three days post-release, Look Up’s total box office broke 200 million, with discussions heating up across forums. A Shen Yiruo meme set went viral, spreading even to those who hadn’t seen the film, cementing her as a despicable figure and turning her name into a meme.

Si Lingyou, who played Shen Yiruo, saw the memes flooding her Weibo and regretted provoking Yu Qingjia, though she couldn’t help giggling.

If the real Shen Yiruo saw this, she’d be furious.

…

“Pleasure doing business.”

Shen Yiruo smiled, shaking hands with Director Zhang before parting.

She’d traded partial shares to secure Director Zhang’s help against Shen Wen. Greedy as he was, he had the means—she’d see how long Shen Wen could stay smug.

In a great mood, Shen Yiruo thought of the aloof model who kept rejecting her. Time to toy with that cold beauty again. Opening her phone, she was surprised to see a WeChat message from her.

Playing hard to get, huh? Time to find a new target—maybe that flight attendant from last time.

Distracted, Shen Yiruo opened the message, expecting a hotel address, but instead saw a panda-head meme with a mocking expression, captioned: “Don’t be too Shen Yiruo.”

Shen Yiruo froze. Even an idiot could see the mockery. Annoyed and confused, she tried calling to demand an explanation, but after three or four failed attempts, she realized she’d been blocked.

With her stunning looks and privileged background, Shen Yiruo was a romantic conqueror—failure was a first, both infuriating and amusing. Trying to message back, she got another from the model:

“President Shen, better soothe your old flames. Your backyard’s on fire, it’s about to burn the house down.”

Baffled, Shen Yiruo replied, “What does that mean?” only to find she’d been deleted.

Growing more confused and angry, she checked her exes’ WeChat Moments, finding weird memes with captions like “Don’t be too Shen Yiruo,” “Yiruo’s sneaky glance,” and “So you’re a Shen Yiruo,” dripping with insinuation.

Shen Yiruo was lost. She’d just finished a work deal, how had the world changed?

Frustrated, she contacted some superficial friends, who were shocked she didn’t know and sent her a Weibo link.

Though their gleeful tone irked her, she ignored it and clicked, landing on a post by “MemeGod”:

“@MemeGodV: Watched Look Up with friends and was pissed off by Shen Yiruo. The worst part? I’ve met people like her! I made some memes to share, take what you want. P.S. Director Yu is amazing, and totally deserves the Sakura Award!”

The post nearly gave Shen Yiruo a heart attack, especially seeing “Director Yu” and “Sakura Award.” Her gut sank. Searching Look Up, the top result was its film entry:

“Look Up, directed by Yu Qingjia, starring Pan Xing and Ke Shi, won the 21st Kyoto International Film Festival’s Sakura Award and Best Actress, released nationwide on August 2…”

Seeing Yu Qingjia’s name, realization hit, and fury surged from her chest to her brain.

She hadn’t expected Yu Qingjia to stoop so low, vilifying her in a film. Despicable!

Did she think this would make her give up that child? Dream on!

Shen Yiruo’s face was icy as she called her assistant. “Book a ticket to City A. I’m going tomorrow.”

As Look Up heated up, Si Lingyou, who played Shen Yiruo, entered the public eye.

To avoid irrational hate, she interacted with Pan Xing on Weibo, declaring herself a fan and expressing honor at working with her idol, attaching a selfie of them together.

Her desperate bid for survival amused netizens, who teased her, while some quirky fans started shipping an odd couple:

“I was furious watching the movie, but her Weibo’s kinda cute. Suddenly, I think Lin Rui and Shen Yiruo work! One’s a protagonist seeking light in darkness, the other’s a villain obsessed with dragging her down.”

“OMG, seeing Lingyou and Pan Xing’s Weibo, Lin Rui and Shen Yiruo’s love-hate vibe is kinda cute. /husky”

“What black hole brains dream up this demonic ship? Scariest part? I’m into it. /shiba inu”

A Together into the Abyss Shen-Lin fan edit appeared on AcFun. Some genius editor turned Shen Yiruo’s ugly jealousy into twisted, obsessive love. Netizens who’d seen the film found it gross at first, planning to mock it, but ended up watching it through, instinctively hitting replay.

Realizing they’d looped it three times, Shen Yiruo’s snide glares somehow seemed… less repulsive?

Holy crap, it’s toxic—they couldn’t stop!

Soon, a Weibo topic trended: #AbyssCP

When Pan Xing stumbled across the video, she found it amusing and shared it with Yu Qingjia, praising the editor’s skill for crafting such a piece from just two trailer versions.

Yu Qingjia smiled silently, she had edited it herself. Seeing fans ship Lin Rui and Shen Yiruo online sparked the idea.

Of course, her goal wasn’t to help Si Lingyou chase Pan Xing but to mess with a certain someone.

…

Yunjing Villa No. 3

The study, decorated in black, white, and gray, exuded grandeur. The curtains blocked out the silvery moonlight, leaving the room dim, lit only by the cold glow of a computer screen. It illuminated a stunningly beautiful face, its eyes tinged with gloom and venom, like a poisonous snake coiled in shadows, ready to strike.

She had just watched Look Up in a private theater, searching for any clips about “Lin Rui” to gather info on Pan Xing. Spotting Together into the Abyss at the top of the results, marked “Shen Yiruo x Lin Rui,” her eyes narrowed dangerously, a cold glint flashing in their depths.

…

Nearly half a month after the premiere, Yu Qingjia occasionally thought of Ming Yin and Xiao Lizhi, but only fleetingly. She couldn’t ignore what Xiao Lizhi had written, that would be self-deception. All she could do was keep her distance.

Sighing, she resumed brainstorming her next project.

Though she’d publicly said she’d plan next year, she was already conceptualizing.

Ding dong—

Her phone vibrated. Seeing Ming Yin’s name, she hesitated but answered.

As soon as she picked up, Ming Yin’s urgent voice came through. “I’m heading to Liguo for a business deal this afternoon. Can you watch Zhizhi for a few days?”

Her, watch Xiao Lizhi?

Puzzled as to why Ming Yin wasn’t bringing her, Yu Qingjia heard her impatient tone. “Shen Yiruo’s back in the country, contacting me again. If I take Zhizhi, I’d have to leave her in the hotel, and Shen Yiruo might seize the chance to approach her. I can’t risk it.”

Realizing the gravity, Yu Qingjia said seriously, “Got it. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Xiao Lizhi and keep others away.”

Ming Yin exhaled in relief. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

After speaking, both fell silent, as if by mutual agreement. Even if Ming Yin said to act like nothing happened, Yu Qingjia couldn’t play dumb, and Ming Yin knew it. They tacitly avoided mentioning that day.

After a second or two, Ming Yin said, “Look Up is amazing. Thank you.”

Thinking of the online Shen Yiruo buzz, Yu Qingjia laughed. “She annoyed me, so I changed the character’s name.”

Though she’d suspected Yu Qingjia did it on purpose, hearing it confirmed lifted Ming Yin’s mood. “She deserves it.”

Yu Qingjia’s smile froze as she recalled that day.

Hearing no response, Ming Yin paused for a few seconds.

“Zhizhi misses you. She’ll be thrilled to stay with you.” Ming Yin said, her voice low. “Don’t worry about her writing practice. She’s not fragile, she understands your stance.”

So Xiao Lizhi had noticed her reluctance and told Ming Yin.

Yu Qingjia said, “I’m sorry, I…”

For the first time, she felt tongue-tied. She didn’t know what she was apologizing for, but she couldn’t meet Xiao Lizhi’s expectations, leaving her regretful and guilty.

A soft laugh from the phone cut her off, like a feather brushing her heart, easing her guilt slightly.

“Don’t be silly.” Ming Yin said lightly, with a hint of amusement. “You’re good to Zhizhi because you like her. It’s not your duty, don’t take it to heart.”

Even so, Yu Qingjia couldn’t feel at ease. She felt she owed Xiao Lizhi, but fulfilling her wishes might make her more attached, creating a vicious cycle.

“Did you talk to Xiao Lizhi?” Yu Qingjia asked quietly. “About her ideas?”

Ming Yin’s tone carried a faint weariness. “That night, she told me. Before I could speak, she said she wouldn’t do it again and hoped you wouldn’t be mad.”

Yu Qingjia’s heart swirled with mixed emotions. “How could I be mad?”

“That’s good.” Ming Yin said. “Assistant Lin will bring Zhizhi and her clothes and toys to you soon.”

After a few more words, Ming Yin said goodbye and hung up.

Staring at the “call ended” screen, Yu Qingjia rubbed her temples, head aching.

…

At 6 p.m., Old Yu returned home. Opening the door, he was greeted by his wife’s beaming face, which made him feel flattered—until her expression collapsed.

Old Yu: ???

“Why is it you? I thought Zhizhi was here,” Madam Yu said, not hiding her disdain, leaving Old Yu feeling wronged.

But his attention shifted. “Zhizhi, Ming Yin’s daughter?” He remembered—a pretty, sweet, smiley girl.

Before Madam Yu could reply, the doorbell rang, signaling a visitor at the gate.

“It must be Zhizhi!” Madam Yu’s face lit up again as she hurried to open the villa’s outer gate to greet Xiao Lizhi.

Curious, Old Yu followed.

In the parking area, Assistant Lin had just parked. Seeing the Yu couple approach, she greeted them before opening the back door.

Old Yu saw a little girl in a red dress and shoes hop out, wearing a cute yellow hat and a light backpack. Her big, dark eyes were lively and clear, her delicate features soft and chubby, utterly endearing.

Seeing Madam Yu, Xiao Lizhi called sweetly, “Grand—” She stopped, pursed her lips, and said softly, “Grandma.”

Madam Yu hugged her gently, smiling. “I like ‘Nana’ better, it feels closer.”

Xiao Lizhi glanced at Yu Qingjia, who was approaching, then back at Madam Yu, who whispered, “Let’s not call me that in front of Xiao Yu, okay?”

Puffing her cheeks, Xiao Lizhi giggled and nodded. “Okay, Nana.”

Old Yu, finding her increasingly charming, leaned in. “You’re Zhizhi, right? I’m Xiao Yu’s dad.”

“Hello, Grandpa!” Xiao Lizhi chirped sweetly.

Old Yu: …Didn’t they say she’d call me Yeye too? What happened to the plan?