How To Deal With Being Transmigrated As The Scumbag Ex-Wife - Chapter 48

48: The Film Festival Concludes

The news that Gaspard Roland had become the guest presenter for the Asian New Wave category sent the entire venue into a frenzy.

The highlight of the Starlight Film Festival was undoubtedly the Golden Jade Awards ceremony, and for the Asian New Wave category to invite such a master director—well, this edition of the Starlight Film Festival was shaping up to be extraordinary.

The award presentation for the Asian New Wave category was broadcast live, and when Gaspard Roland took the stage, the online comments exploded:

“I bet a spicy strip that Gaspard Roland is here for Yu Qingjia!”

“Bet, my foot! It’s obvious he’s here for the Second Princess. That blogger was telling the truth!!!”

“Can you stop hyping yourselves up? Chinese cinema has been on the rise lately, and the domestic film market is becoming increasingly important. Maybe Gaspard Roland came because he sees potential in China. Not everything is about Yu Qingjia—have some shame, will you?”

“I’m confused. If he was invited by the festival, why is Gaspard Roland presenting for Asian New Wave instead of the Golden Jade Awards? Can someone tell me who’s presenting for the Golden Jade Awards?”

A blogger claiming to be Gaspard Roland’s student had previously posted some information. While most netizens claimed to believe it, they didn’t take it seriously deep down—they just didn’t want to miss any chance to mock the Golden Flower Awards. But this time, people couldn’t help but believe it was true. Why else would Gaspard Roland show up to present at the Starlight Film Festival, and not even for the main competition category? It was hard not to overthink it.

The audience was roughly divided into three groups: the first believed Gaspard Roland was there for Yu Qingjia, the second thought the first group was delusional and full of themselves, and the third just watched the drama unfold without taking sides.

For a moment, the live comments were so dense they completely covered the screen.

When Gaspard Roland took the stage, he didn’t waste words. He opened the envelope in his hand and announced the winner of the “Most Popular Film Award” for this edition.

The award went to a light comedy from Japan. A few days earlier, Yu Qingjia had specifically taken Ming Yin to see it, worried that other films might not suit Ming Yin’s taste and bore her, so she deliberately chose this light comedy.

Even so, Ming Yin’s attention was still on her. If Yu Qingjia hadn’t glanced over unintentionally and caught Ming Yin staring at her, she wouldn’t have realized that Ming Yin wasn’t even watching the movie—she was watching her the whole time.

Next was the Organizing Committee’s Special Award, which went to a drama film from Iran.

When it came time to announce the Best Director Award, Yu Qingjia noticed Gaspard Roland glance her way before opening the envelope.

After seeing the name on the envelope, Gaspard Roland gave a faint smile and announced:

“The winner of the Asian New Wave Best Director Award is Yu Qingjia!”

As his slightly accented voice rang out, a gentle smile spread across Yu Qingjia’s face. As she stood and walked to the stage, the live comments erupted—

“Congratulations to the Second Princess for winning Best Director!”

“I knew it! I knew it! Go, Second Princess!!!”

“This is an internationally renowned film festival, and the Second Princess finally got the recognition she deserves. Amazing!”

“Go, Second Princess!”

A few comments mocked Yu Qingjia, saying she was only fit for a newcomer award and had the nerve to claim the Golden Flower Awards were rigged. But these were quickly drowned out by the flood of congratulatory comments.

Since the Golden Flower Awards, some haters have emerged online against Yu Qingjia. Whether they were genuine passersby or paid trolls, no one could say for sure.

On stage, Yu Qingjia thanked Gaspard Roland as she accepted the trophy. She heard him say, “Your film is very interesting, and you’re even more interesting than I imagined.”

Yu Qingjia was momentarily stunned, but Gaspard Roland had already stepped back, yielding the stage to her. She tucked away her surprise and confusion and began her acceptance speech.

As a director who had already won numerous awards, a newcomer award was just a new starting point for her. Still, out of respect for the Starlight Film Festival, Yu Qingjia put on a delighted smile and said, “I’m deeply honored to receive this award. I especially want to thank the organizers for inviting Mr. Roland. This is an encouragement for me…”

As she gave her acceptance speech, news of Yu Qingjia winning the Asian New Wave Best Director Award spread across the internet, along with screenshots of the announcement and her reaction. Some felt her response to winning was too calm, as if she knew she’d win, while others thought it showed her confidence and strength. The comment sections were a chaotic mess:

“Am I the only one who thinks Yu Qingjia’s reaction was super calm? Like she knew she’d win.”

“Maybe the committee tipped her off? I heard the Starlight Film Festival has a habit of not giving awards to people who don’t show up.”

“Just say what you mean instead of being shady. Yu Qingjia’s skill and talent are obvious. Is it wrong for her to be confident?”

“Can the haters open their eyes? She deserved this award, okay? This year’s haters are so low-quality, they should be fired and replaced.”

…

When Yu Qingjia returned to her seat with the trophy, Gaspard Roland announced the final award, the Best Film Award—

“The winner of the Asian New Wave Best Film Award is Look Up.”

Hearing that Look Up had won Best Film, Yu Qingjia’s smile grew even brighter. She stood again to accept the award. Luckily, her seat was near the aisle, close to the stage.

Yu Qingjia thought Gaspard Roland might say something to her again, but he only smiled, handed her the trophy, said, “Congratulations on your win,” and stepped aside. Yu Qingjia didn’t press further, gave a radiant smile while holding the trophy, and delivered another acceptance speech.

The live comments were naturally filled with cheers and laughter, congratulating Yu Qingjia on her great achievement.

With Yu Qingjia securing two major awards, the Asian New Wave competition officially concluded.

…

After the Asian New Wave awards ceremony ended, Yu Qingjia asked a staff member and found Gaspard Roland in one of the main venue’s screening rooms.

Gaspard Roland was watching a film nominated for the Golden Jade Awards, Silent Years, directed by Chinese director Chen Zhi. Yu Qingjia had seen it too. Silent Years was the most unique film at this festival, with natural cinematography devoid of artificial design, flowing seamlessly—a rare film of exceptional quality.

Noticing footsteps behind him, Gaspard Roland turned and saw Yu Qingjia enter. He gestured for her to sit beside him. Yu Qingjia took a seat one chair away and heard Gaspard Roland say, “You’re very contradictory. I rarely see young people as contradictory as you.”

The comment caught Yu Qingjia off guard, but she quickly understood what he meant—he was referring to her two films.

Gaspard Roland turned to her, his gaze settling on her face. “Young people are always looking to the future, but you’re reminiscing about the past. You’re very proud. If I were you three years ago, I’d think you were an arrogant genius spoiled by investors.”

Yu Qingjia’s heart skipped a beat. Both films were her past works. Star Making Plan was less mature than Look Up, though she had polished it with her later experience. In some ways, Gaspard Roland was right. And yes, she was proud—ever since film school, she had been surrounded by accolades, never facing setbacks or difficulties.

“But pride isn’t a bad thing,” Gaspard Roland said with a smile, his face looking older than in the photos Yu Qingjia had seen online. “Dwelling on the past, though, isn’t good. As your films show, people need to grow and look forward.”

When she made those two films, she was indeed nostalgic, longing to return home.

Yu Qingjia fell into thought. Before she could respond, Gaspard Roland turned back to the screen and asked, “Have you seen this film?”

“Hm?” Yu Qingjia snapped back to reality. “Yes, I’ve seen it.” She had watched it alone since Ming Yin was busy with work.

Gaspard Roland said, “I really like this work. It’s the most natural film I’ve seen recently, but I’m more interested in you.”

“Films are both commodities and art. Directors need to learn to hide the camera. You don’t need to deliberately show off techniques…”

…

When Yu Qingjia returned to her hotel, she was still mulling over Gaspard Roland’s words, so much so that she stood dazed at her door.

“Is the door more interesting than me?”

A familiar voice came from the side. Before Yu Qingjia looked up, a faint smile already curved her lips.

Turning, she saw Ming Yin leaning against the opposite door in the hallway, her dark, silky hair cascading over her shoulders. Though her tone carried a hint of complaint, her eyes sparkled with amusement.

At this hour, the hotel was mostly empty. Yu Qingjia didn’t mind chatting in the hallway and teased, “I didn’t expect President Ming to be so jealous—even of a door.”

Ming Yin, accused of being a “jealousy monster,” wasn’t annoyed. Her lips curved into a slight smile, and she asked with mock seriousness, “So, am I prettier, or is the door?”

Yu Qingjia hadn’t expected Ming Yin to ask such a question so earnestly. Laughing helplessly, she said, “Of course, President Ming is prettier. No one compares to President Ming.”

Ming Yin stepped toward her, planted a kiss on her lips, then straightened up, satisfied. “President Ming likes your answer. This is your reward.”

Yu Qingjia didn’t mind the world knowing they were dating, but that didn’t mean she wanted intimate kissing photos circulating. She opened the room door, pulled Ming Yin inside, and asked, “Have you had dinner? Did you leave Xiao Lizhi alone in the room again?”

Waiting for Ming Yin’s reply but hearing none, Yu Qingjia turned, puzzled, to see Ming Yin looking at her with a subtle expression. Confused, Yu Qingjia thought for a moment and realized, “Is it really late?”

Ming Yin pursed her lips helplessly. “It’s almost ten.”

Yu Qingjia looked at her in mock shock, a glint of amusement in her eyes, though her face stayed surprised. “Oh, it’s because President Ming is too captivating. I lost track of time.”

Though she knew Yu Qingjia was teasing, Ming Yin couldn’t help but laugh. After a moment, she reined in her smile. “Why are you back so late, staring at the door in a daze, not even noticing me standing here?”

“You were waiting for me?” Yu Qingjia’s smile widened. She explained, “I was talking with Gaspard Roland about films and was still thinking about it on my way back. If I really didn’t see you, that’s my bad.”

Ming Yin’s brows furrowed slightly. “Don’t apologize so casually. I’m not jealous of some old man.”

Yu Qingjia tapped her nose playfully, chuckling. “Who was the jealous monster eating a door’s vinegar just now, and now acting all generous?”

No one had ever tapped Ming Yin’s nose before. She instinctively wanted to dodge but hesitated since it was Yu Qingjia. By the time she reacted, her nose had been lightly tapped, and she inexplicably felt pampered, her cheeks warming.

Ming Yin looked away, changing the subject. “I came to tell you that Zhizhi and I are heading back to A City tomorrow. I’m going to Lan Country to meet a business partner, so I’ll need you to look after Zhizhi.”

“You just told me not to apologize casually, and now you’re saying it’s a hassle to look after Zhizhi.” Yu Qingjia’s smile was radiant. “Shouldn’t President Ming be consistent?”

Ming Yin frowned, slightly annoyed. “I forgot I’m your girlfriend too.”

Yu Qingjia: “…”

Seeing Yu Qingjia’s speechless look, Ming Yin let out a soft laugh. “Take good care of Zhizhi. If you don’t, I’ll punish you when I get back.”

Yu Qingjia’s interest was piqued. “How do you plan to punish me?”

Ming Yin’s lips curved, a hint of blush at the corners of her eyes. “Guess.”

…

Not only Ming Yin and Zhizhi, but Yu Qingjia also didn’t plan to stay for the festival’s closing ceremony. She needed to check on the progress of special effects at Digital Light and Shadow.

After the Asian New Wave category ended, Yu Qingjia returned to A City. Her first task was to visit Digital Light and Shadow to review the special effects progress.

The effects team had revised the previous segments according to her requests, and Yu Qingjia was very satisfied. They began preparing the next set of effects.

She estimated that Eternal Life wouldn’t be ready for review and release until next summer.

Xinghui Company

Since her chance encounter with Mo Lan in the elevator, Yu Qingjia hadn’t gone to see Yu Qingyi. It wasn’t that she felt uneasy or avoided her sister; she was simply too busy with work to hang around Yu Qingyi’s office.

This time, her parents had asked her to fetch Yu Qingyi for a family dinner at home since it was Old Yu’s birthday.

From the moment she entered Xinghui, people greeted her constantly. She responded politely to each one before heading alone to the elevator for the 34th floor.

Things are different now. After Gaspard Roland returned to his home country following the Asian New Wave awards, domestic media buzzed with claims that he had come specifically for Yu Qingjia.

An alleged Starlight Film Festival member leaked that Gaspard Roland’s only condition for accepting the invitation was to present for Asian New Wave. Getting such a master director was a dream for the organizers, whether as a presenter or a judge, so he became the Asian New Wave presenter.

Though the claim sounded far-fetched, the facts seemed to align, making some netizens skeptical yet convinced. This catapulted Yu Qingjia into the spotlight as China’s most promising young director, bar none.

Naturally, everyone wanted to collaborate with her or know when she’d start her next project, hoping for a chance to act in it. But she knew this frenzy would cool off eventually.

Knock knock—

Yu Qingjia tapped the door lightly and pushed it open. She caught Yu Qingyi slipping something into a drawer with an unnatural expression, pretending to be calm as she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Yu Qingjia raised an eyebrow. “It’s Old Yu’s birthday today. Mom and Dad asked me to remind you to come home for dinner. They’re hoping you’ll show up.”

Hearing it was Old Yu’s birthday, a flicker of guilt crossed Yu Qingyi’s face. Yu Qingjia teased, “Forgot, didn’t you? Got a date with someone else?”

Yu Qingyi shot her a glare, her tone icy. “Why are you so nosy? I’ll be there tonight.”

Used to her sister’s sharp tongue, Yu Qingjia shrugged helplessly. “Just showing some sisterly concern.”

Yu Qingyi ignored her, about to resume reading her documents when she remembered something. Looking up, she said, “Eternal Love is set to release soon, probably catching the tail end of the summer season.”

This was the film Shenji Entertainment had invested in for nearly two years, directed by renowned director Han Yan.

Yu Qingjia hadn’t paid much attention to Eternal Love and was surprised when Yu Qingyi brought it up. She recalled how the film’s lead actress, Qiu Jing, had strung them along. If Mo Lan hadn’t been available, Qiu Jing’s actions could’ve wasted the production team’s efforts.

Yu Qingjia said nonchalantly, “Congrats to them for setting a release date. Otherwise, that film’s budget would’ve gone up in smoke.”

Yu Qingyi wasn’t surprised by her reaction. It would’ve been odd if her sister showed worry or mockery. She only mentioned it in passing, then asked, “Are you with Ming Yin now?”

“Yup.” Yu Qingjia admitted openly. “Not even a month yet.”

Yu Qingyi tossed her pen onto the desk, amused. “Didn’t you say you didn’t want to hold her back? Forgot your own words?”

Yu Qingjia didn’t argue, grinning smugly. “I’m happy, so there.”

Yu Qingyi nearly rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to fling her documents at her sister’s face. “Have you told her daughter?”

“Not yet. We’re not planning to tell Xiao Lizhi,” Yu Qingjia said, a bit troubled. “I’m not even sure how long we’ll last. If we break up later, it’d be messy, so we’re keeping it quiet.”

Yu Qingyi nodded in agreement. She’d been worried her sister would dive in headfirst, acting like she and Ming Yin were meant to be forever, ignoring everything else. This wasn’t just about the two of them—Ming Yin had a child, and they had to consider her.

Yu Qingjia considered asking about Mo Lan but swallowed the question. Some things were better left unasked.

Noticing Yu Qingjia’s hesitation, Yu Qingyi spoke up. “What, something to say?”

Yu Qingjia raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, just saw you sneaking something away when I came in—”

“Nonsense. This is my office. Why would I sneak anything?” Yu Qingyi’s cold gaze swept over her, though her flushed cheeks undermined her words.

Yu Qingjia smiled faintly. “Who knows?”

“Get out!”

Kicked out of the office, Yu Qingjia wasn’t upset. Yu Qingyi’s reaction was just her being embarrassed after getting caught. She wasn’t about to hold it against her.

Entering the elevator to head downstairs, the elevator stopped at the 21st floor. Yu Qingjia stepped back as the doors opened, revealing a young, beautiful girl. The girl’s eyes lit up when she saw Yu Qingjia, and she stepped forward, only to trip and fall straight toward her.

Yu Qingjia instinctively reached out to help. The girl grabbed her arm to steady herself but ended up crashing into Yu Qingjia, knocking them both against the elevator wall.

“Hiss—”

Yu Qingjia winced, pain shooting through her head and jaw from the impact. With her help, the girl barely steadied herself, apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry! Really sorry for bumping into you!”

Tasting a faint metallic tang in her mouth, Yu Qingjia steadied herself and frowned. “It’s fine. Watch your step next time.”

The girl’s face was flushed with embarrassment, nodding repeatedly while adjusting her clothes against the reflective elevator wall. Her glances at Yu Qingjia carried a hint of shyness.

Noticing the blush, Yu Qingjia subtly furrowed her brow and stepped back to create distance.

Standing farther apart, Yu Qingjia realized the girl bore a striking resemblance to Pan Xing, especially in her eyes and brows. But this girl’s features were more refined, and she had a rare innocent charm—uncommon even in the entertainment industry.

The discovery set off alarm bells in Yu Qingjia’s mind. She glanced at the elevator panel, seeing they were still far from the first floor. Noticing the girl’s lips part as if to speak, Yu Qingjia casually pulled out her phone, pretending to be busy scrolling.

Seeing the phone, the girl closed her mouth, looking disappointed. Her eyes kept darting to Yu Qingjia, seemingly waiting for a chance to speak, but Yu Qingjia stayed focused on her phone, giving her no opening.

Ding—

The elevator stopped at the first floor, and the doors slid open. Yu Qingjia, still looking at her phone, strode out quickly, leaving the girl hesitating in the elevator.

After a moment’s indecision, the girl called out, “Director Yu!”

But Yu Qingjia didn’t stop, speeding up as if something were chasing her. In a few steps, she passed the lobby and was out the door.

The girl: “…”

Relieved to have dodged a bullet, Yu Qingjia let out a silent sigh. Getting entangled would’ve been trouble.

At the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder:

Was it really just a coincidence that she ran into someone who looked so much like her ex-wife, and an upgraded version at that? Could it really be that coincidental?