How To Deal With Being Transmigrated As The Scumbag Ex-Wife - Chapter 8

8: Don’t Ask, It’s Just the Second Personality

Yu Qingjia slept until past ten, only waking when Pan Xing’s call interrupted her slumber.

“What’s up?” Yu Qingjia mumbled, rolling over in her soft bedding, yawning lightly with a hint of moisture in her eyes.

Pan Xing’s voice came through the phone, hesitant yet brimming with excitement. “Did you edit that last night?”

Even after witnessing Yu Qingjia’s seasoned, almost veteran-like performance on set, Pan Xing had remained skeptical about her editing skills. Who could be sure of her abilities without seeing the final product? But when she woke up and watched the short film Yu Qingjia sent, she finally believed Yu Qingjia’s confidence in transitioning to directing stemmed from genuine talent.

Yu Qingjia, long past the age of getting cocky over small achievements, picked up on Pan Xing’s excitement but responded calmly, “Yeah, I finished editing around one in the morning. You were probably asleep by then, so I just posted it on Weibo.”

She’d promised to rush the edit to shift online attention away from her and Pan Xing’s rumored romance, so she had uploaded it directly.

“I watched it five times. Your editing is incredible!” Pan Xing didn’t even know how to praise her enough. “Your sister will definitely let you make a movie!”

After chatting a bit, Yu Qingjia was fully awake. She sat up, smiling. “That would be perfect.”

Pan Xing got straight to the point. “You promised before, if you get to make a movie, I’m waiting for your casting call!”

Every actor dreams of the big screen, especially someone like Pan Xing, who’d once come close to cinematic success but had since faded from prominence.

Yu Qingjia agreed readily. She already felt guilty toward Pan Xing, and with Pan Xing’s face and presence perfect for the camera’s scrutiny, she was willing to help her become an international star as compensation for losing her former lover.

After hanging up with Pan Xing, Yu Qingjia received a call from her agent, Chen Ruo. Only then did she realize she was trending again.

Chen Ruo said, “The PR team’s been working since early morning to suppress the trend, and Lu Huaqiu and the others are helping clarify things, but it’s not dying down easily. Someone’s stirring the pot to smear you. Don’t get upset, and don’t bother with Li Quan. That guy’s got a foul temper and is stubborn as hell, don’t argue with him.”

Yu Qingjia was browsing Weibo on her tablet. Hearing Chen Ruo mention Li Quan, she recalled the name.

The original Yu Qingjia wouldn’t have known such an obscure director, but during her time holed up in the villa watching films, Yu Qingjia had studied various directors’ techniques, compositions, and lighting, including Li Quan’s work.

Li Quan’s films focused on rural backwardness and ignorance, harshly critiquing human ugliness. They weren’t Yu Qingjia’s taste, so she’d only skimmed them.

As she scrolled through Li Quan’s heated exchange with her fans, she couldn’t help but marvel. His cinematography and compositions were average, but his verbal sparring was sharp and biting. If his films matched his fiery personality, they might actually be interesting.

Li Quan had praised the short film’s composition, camera work, and pacing extensively before asserting it couldn’t be Yu Qingjia’s work, claiming it must be a ghost director’s and condemning Tianyue for suppressing such talent.

The toxic comment section gave Yu Qingjia a headache. With Chen Ruo’s explanation, she pieced together the situation.

Her early morning Weibo post had caught the attention of industry insiders, who believed she couldn’t have made the film. Li Quan was the most vocal, prompting her fans to defend her. Many immature fans resorted to personal insults, with Li Quan taking the brunt. His fiery temper led to escalating arguments, from reasonable points to direct attacks on Tianyue, fueling a growing online firestorm.

Seeing the malicious personal attacks from opportunists, Yu Qingjia remained unfazed. As an internationally acclaimed director who’d once faced near-blacklisting by the industry, this online criticism was barely a drizzle.

But the fans tirelessly defending her, even resorting to insults, gave her a headache. She was grateful for their support, but wasn’t this a waste of time? Wouldn’t they rather sleep or rest?

“Got it.” Yu Qingjia replied briskly. She was planning to meet Yu Qingyi to propose a film project, why waste time arguing online?

After hanging up with Chen Ruo, she popped into her fan group to say a few words:

[Yu Qingjia: Thank you all for what you’ve done, but it’s not necessary. I’ll prove them wrong with my work.]

[Cigarette Butt: Oh my gosh, it’s Xiao Yu!!!]

[A City Fish Food Supplier: Xiao Yu, you’ve got this! We believe in you! You’re amazing!]

[Koi Fish: Everyone, stop wasting time with those people. A lot of them are jumping in to attack Xiao Yu. We can’t add to her troubles!]

[Yu Qingjia: I hope no one faces verbal attacks, and I hope you all won’t hurt others with words either, okay?]

[Soft Cotton: Okay!]

[Cigarette Butt: Got it!]

…

The fan group was managed by her top supporters. Seeing their promises not to drag her down, Yu Qingjia reminded them to rest and avoid staying up late. After a brief chat, she left the group.

Her top fans proved their management skills. Those still arguing with her fans found themselves ignored or blocked, effectively halting the feud. Meanwhile, Li Quan stubbornly posted another Weibo, declaring he was ready for more and daring her fans to keep coming.

Yu Qingjia found it amusing but didn’t respond. After confirming her fans had stopped engaging, she closed her tablet, got up, washed, and headed to Xinghui Media.

Xinghui Media President’s Office

Yu Qingyi was no less shocked than others. Not because of online gossip—that was the PR department’s job, and as the head of an entertainment company, she had no time for it. Her shock came from the email her sister sent: a video titled Love at First Sight.

Honestly, when she received the short film, Yu Qingyi was surprised.

The production speed was astonishing. She’d only just lent her sister the filming crew, and by the next morning, Yu Qingjia had sent the finished product.

This rapid turnaround lowered Yu Qingyi’s expectations, so she was stunned after watching it.

Yu Qingyi didn’t understand composition or cinematography, nor could she judge a director’s talent. She only knew the short film was captivating, with evocative emotions, comfortable visuals, and strong performances. After one viewing, she wanted to watch it again, tasting the sweetness and bitterness of love through the lens.

Even a fool could see the filmmaker was exceptionally talented, worth nurturing.

This made Yu Qingyi suspicious.

She summoned Chen Ruo and asked, “What exactly happened on set yesterday?”

Chen Ruo earnestly described Yu Qingjia’s surprisingly adept performance, and Yu Qingyi raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying Xiao Yu was as skilled as a director who’s been on set for years?”

“If you don’t believe me, ask Teacher Lu and the others. They won’t lie.” Chen Ruo said, referring to the crew Yu Qingjia borrowed.

Yu Qingyi thought for a moment. “Alright, you can go.”

After Chen Ruo left, Yu Qingyi indeed called in the crew members one by one. Their expressions and tones were full of admiration and praise for Yu Qingjia, and she even got hold of some set footage.

With multiple pieces of evidence, Yu Qingyi realized her sister was extraordinary. Who develops a whole new skill set after a split personality?

When Yu Qingjia arrived at the office, eager for approval, she found her sister eyeing her suspiciously.

Yu Qingyi: “Who are you, really?”

Yu Qingjia wasn’t surprised by the question. It’d be odd if Yu Qingyi believed her outright. Having prepared herself mentally, she boldly declared, “I told you, I’m the second personality. Who else could I be?”

Yu Qingyi herself dismissed ideas like possession, what era was this to believe such things? Unable to explain how her sister woke up as a seasoned director, she could only console herself that the split personality had developed early, and the second personality loved filmmaking, secretly honing related skills.

Don’t ask— it’s just the second personality, even if the symptoms don’t match.

Yu Qingjia didn’t give her time to dwell, saying, “You’ve seen my work. I’m planning to make a movie. What do you think?”

Seeing Yu Qingyi’s odd expression, she added, “Mom and Dad already gave me twenty million yuan. If you don’t agree, I can go straight to Tianyue. I’m sure their production department would love to work with me.”

“Fine, fine, you’re throwing it in my face. How can I say no?” Yu Qingyi said with a headache. “Alright, coordinate with Manager Zhang from the production department and follow the process.”

That’s what she was waiting for!

Elated, Yu Qingjia showered Yu Qingyi with flattery. Since her sister agreed to support her, a few compliments wouldn’t hurt.

Unable to stand her saccharine tone, Yu Qingyi shooed her out. Yu Qingjia didn’t linger, she was eager to write her script and start the project.

…

Mingyue Building President’s Office

“This morning, Miss Yu posted on Weibo, and Shenji Entertainment stirred the pot, pushing her to the center of controversy.” Assistant Lin said, adjusting her glasses with a serious expression. “Xinghui’s PR team tried to suppress it multiple times, but it’s not going away.”

It was obvious who was behind it, none other than Shen Ru.

The key was that Xinghui’s PR department was tied to Tianyue, a veteran entertainment giant with unshakable influence. Yet Shenji Entertainment, a newcomer, managed to pull this off. Yu Qingjia’s poor reputation was one factor, but it also showed Shenji’s cunning.

Ming Yin gazed calmly at her computer screen, displaying Yu Qingjia’s early morning Weibo post. A thoughtful glint passed through her dark eyes.

Why would Shen Ru bother with this? What was she planning?

“What happened to Xiao Yu?” Hearing the familiar name, Zhizhi, who’d been quietly playing with a bear toy on the sofa, hopped down and scurried over on short legs, only to trip and nearly fall flat.

Ming Yin swiftly grabbed Zhizhi’s collar, steadying her before letting go, her tone slightly stern. “Watch your step. Don’t run around.”

What had Yu Qingjia done to make Zhizhi like her so much?

Zhizhi clung to her leg, her chubby chin resting on Ming Yin’s knee, flashing a coaxing smile. “I won’t do it again.”

Seeing Zhizhi’s smile, Ming Yin softened. Taking advantage, Zhizhi asked, “What’s wrong with Xiao Yu?”

Ming Yin raised an eyebrow, a barely audible sigh in her voice. “She’s doing fine. You like her that much?”

Assistant Lin’s brow twitched—

Listen to that tone, thick with jealousy.

“Xiao Yu’s pretty!” Zhizhi said confidently.

Ming Yin raised an eyebrow. “Prettier than Mommy?”

Zhizhi instantly caught on, her little face turning serious. “Mommy’s the prettiest, Zhizhi’s second, Xiao Yu’s third.”

Her childish response made Ming Yin laugh. She bent down, hugged Zhizhi, and kissed her forehead. “Zhizhi’s so sweet.”

This eased Ming Yin’s heart. Zhizhi loved her most, after all. As for Yu Qingjia—

She’d decide whether to let Zhizhi keep interacting with her after researching split personality symptoms.