She Said: A Passionate Kiss [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 3
Danmaku (live chat comments) swarmed the screen like tens of thousands of ants crawling across it—some viewers even experienced lag on their phones.
Qiang Huai’s fans flooded the chat:
Huai Huai Fall Into My Arms: “That’s right, Qiang Huai had a crush on me in high school!”
Qiang Huai’s Personal Sweater: “Yep! We even hung out in high school!”
…
But black hatters (haters) were also typing furiously in the comment section:
No More Pills Please: “Hah, wasn’t Qiang Huai a full-on delinquent in high school?”
Sleeps Too Well: “Her? Qiang Huai? She went to high school? Isn’t she one of the stragglers who slipped through the cracks of the nine-year compulsory education?”
…
Still, Qiang Huai faced the camera with a calm smile. “Not everything you hear is true. But to me, she was an unfulfilled first love.”
Host Xiao Ba covered his mouth in mock shock, his expression exaggerated like he had just stuffed an air fryer into it.
In the past, Qiang Huai’s team always tried to scrub away any gossip about her high school years. But after seeing Gu Pingwan again yesterday, she suddenly felt like… it didn’t matter anymore.
Maybe… too much time had passed?
At that moment, the internet exploded. The hashtag #QiangHuaiHighSchoolFirstLove rocketed to the top of trending searches.
“Miss Qiang?”
“Qiang Huai?” Xiao Ba called out twice.
“You used to avoid this topic, but today you spoke about it openly during a live broadcast. What made you change your stance?” he asked cautiously. Qiang Huai stayed silent for a moment, and Xiao Ba thought she might be upset—if so, it would make for top-tier drama.
Qiang Huai came back to herself and replied, “Because… I just saw her yesterday.”
“Wah—so sparks are flying again?” Xiao Ba’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Can you tell us how far things have gone? Are you two… back together?”
“Currently pursuing again,” Qiang Huai’s lips curled into a small smile. “I’ll report back once she says yes.”
The live comment feed exploded in question marks.
“WTF, Qiang Huai???”
“This woman really dares to say anything.”
“Domestic C-entertainment needs chaos agents like her LOL.”
“Wait, did she say he or she?”
…
Outside the studio, Xiao Yu nearly spilled the coffee she was holding when she heard that line. Sister Qin (Qin-jie), who had been watching the stream closely out of fear Qiang Huai might say something wild, immediately contacted PR to contain the damage.
Meanwhile, Qiang Huai’s high school class group chat was on fire.
Flying Bear: “@QiangHuai, what the hell did you just say on live???”
DouDou: “What? What happened??”
LinlinNoTears: “Why are y’all yelling first thing in the morning?”
One second later—
LinlinNoTears: “HOLY SH*T! Damn girl! Qiang Huai, who did you like in high school?! I don’t remember this!”
Flying Bear: “Are you crazy? What kind of female celebrity says stuff like this? @QiangHuai”
QunQun: “Wow. Qiang Huai you’ve got real main character energy. @QiangHuai You’re the No.1 simp queen in all of domestic entertainment.”
QunQun wasn’t too shocked when she saw the news. After all, Qiang Huai had never held back when speaking privately.
…
Inside the studio, time seemed frozen. Xiao Ba, ever the professional, continued asking prewritten questions from his cue cards. The livestream ended soon after.
Now all the top bloggers and marketing accounts had their headlines. Qiang Huai’s fans flooded Weibo defending her, while haters photoshopped her into memes of obsessive lovers and slapped on labels like:
#LoveBeggingGirl
#SimpQueen
Qiang Huai exited the studio. The way people looked at her had changed—they now seemed to regard her with a mixture of awe and disbelief, as if she’d just returned from a victorious battle. She flicked her hair off her shoulder, strutted over to Xiao Yu, and took the coffee from her hand.
“Qiang-jie,” Xiao Yu said nervously, “Qin-jie wants us to go back to the office immediately.”
“Mm.” Qiang Huai took a sip of coffee, put on a mask and hat, threw on her coat, and got into the van.
By the time they reached the company building, there was already a swarm of paparazzi outside. Luckily, they had a back entrance for emergencies, and Qiang Huai managed to slip in.
Qin-jie was furiously typing on her keyboard. Phones were ringing off the hook throughout the office—mostly from media requesting interviews.
Back in the day, Qiang Huai and Qin-jie had started their own company in Jincheng. With guts and cash, they’d bought an entire office tower in the CBD. The top floor was for them; the other floors were assigned to their artists based on fame level—the higher the floor, the bigger the star.
“Qin-jie, I’m back.” Qiang Huai pushed open the door to her office like nothing had happened.
Qin-jie stopped typing and said, “My dear Miss Qiang, were your gossip KPI targets not met this quarter?!”
Qiang Huai spread her hands. “Sorry, it just slipped out. Got carried away in the moment.”
Qin-jie immediately sensed something was off. She turned to Xiao Yu, who was trembling by the wall. “Who did she see last night?”
Xiao Yu stepped forward, her gaze flitting nervously between them.
“…Gu Pingwan,” Qiang Huai replied, pulling out a chair to sit. “I just feel like there’s no need to keep hiding anymore. I’ve been in the industry for so many years—I can’t keep pretending to be some pure and innocent fairy, right?”
Qin-jie took a deep breath. “Sis… my dear goddess… do you know what the haters are calling you now?”
“Love-Begging Girl! Simp Queen! What other female celeb gets called that?!”
Qiang Huai burst out laughing. Xiao Yu bit her lower lip, barely containing her own.
Qin-jie let out a laugh of disbelief. “You’re seriously laughing right now?”
“But seriously,” Qin-jie pressed, “what if Gu Pingwan says something damaging? That’s the real risk.”
In the past, Qiang Huai would’ve been nervous. After all, so many years had passed—they lived in completely different worlds now.
But after seeing Gu Pingwan again, those clear eyes, unchanged by time or filth, still reminded her of the girl from high school.
Qiang Huai pressed her lips together. “Don’t worry. She won’t.”
…
Meanwhile, things were calm on Gu Pingwan’s side.
She sat in a cubicle, typing away at her keyboard. Around her were the rhythmic clacks of fingers flying across keys.
After leaving the “Space-Based Research Lab of the Software Institute of the Chinese Academy of Sciences,” she had taken up a senior engineering role on a 3D satellite-based emergency positioning project in Jincheng—partly to take care of her sick mom, and partly because the pay was good.
She absentmindedly picked up her coffee, only to realize the cup was empty.
In the breakroom, the coffee machine whirred as she leaned tiredly against the counter, rubbing her temples and staring at the ceiling—only to find Qiang Huai’s face appearing there like a hallucination.
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.
On her way back to her desk, she overheard a group of female colleagues chatting excitedly. Normally she wouldn’t care about gossip, but the name Qiang Huai caught her ear.
“No way! She actually said that?” one girl gasped, sipping bubble tea.
“Totally! So bold! I could never!”
“I wonder how good-looking that person must be? Even Qiang Huai wants to pursue them again!”
The bubble tea girl spotted Gu Pingwan walking by and waved excitedly. “Chief Gu! Come check this out!”
Gu Pingwan found herself inexplicably drawn to their screen. There, plastered on Weibo’s trending list, were headlines like:
#QiangHuaiConfessesToChasingFirstLoveAgain
#WhoIsQiangHuai’sFirstLove
“What happened to her?” Gu Pingwan asked quietly.
“You haven’t been online all day, Chief Gu?” the bubble tea girl asked, shocked.
Gu Pingwan shook her head. She rarely followed celebrity news.
The girl clicked on the trending post, and Gu Pingwan bent down to watch the video.
On-screen, Qiang Huai smiled at the camera and said:
“I just saw her yesterday… I’m planning to pursue her again…”
Gu Pingwan’s face turned crimson instantly. She felt dizzy—not sure if it was the air conditioning or too much caffeine.
“Chief Gu?” a coworker waved a hand in front of her face. “You okay? Your face is all red.”
“Yeah! Do you have a fever? Want to get tested?”
Gu Pingwan stood upright and shook her head. “I’m fine.”
She returned to her seat, but her mind kept replaying what Qiang Huai had said. Could it really be her she was talking about? Was she overthinking it?
Her coworkers watched her walk off, dreamy-eyed.
“Our Chief Gu is so gorgeous, seriously! Way prettier than most celebs!”
“I know right?! Look at her cute little blushing face! I’d simp too! Qiang Huai’s company better sign her fast—I’d pay big money for her photocard!”
…
Of course, Gu Pingwan didn’t hear any of this. She quietly plugged in her headphones and replayed Qiang Huai’s interview, watching her every smile, every glance, like she was speaking directly to her.
She mulled over several possibilities. Maybe Qiang Huai had met other high school classmates? It probably wasn’t her.
That thought calmed her heart a little.
At that exact moment, Qiang Huai lay curled up on her office sofa, replying to a bombardment of WeChat messages.
QunQun: “Say it! SAY IT! Are you seriously going to chase Gu Pingwan again??”
QunQun: “Do you still want a career in entertainment??”
QunQun: “Are you okay in the head???”
QunQun: “Bro.”
QunQun: “If you don’t reply, I’m posting your ugliest pics!”
Qiang Huai rubbed her forehead and replied:
Qiang Huai: “Help me find out what Gu Pingwan’s been up to these past few years.”
QunQun: “You’re serious, huh?”
Qiang Huai: “Mm.”
QunQun: “Our high school group chat is in shambles. Watch out for those who didn’t like you back then—especially Yu Lele, that guy always smelled weird and had a mouth like a public toilet.”
QunQun: “Watch your back, he might spill some dirt.”
Qiang Huai frowned slightly. She’d nearly forgotten Yu Lele existed. Thank god for QunQun’s reminder.
…
After replying to everything, it was already late. The guard downstairs called to say only a few paparazzi remained, so Qiang Huai packed up and prepared to leave.
She took the elevator to the underground garage. It had started raining again.
Wrapped up like a mummy, she drove out of the parking lot. Rain poured down, and office workers who’d just finished overtime were clustered under the buildings trying to hail rides.
As she neared a convenience store, she spotted a familiar umbrella. Though it had faded with time, it still stood out.
Qiang Huai pulled up near the store to get a closer look. Sure enough, it was Gu Pingwan, shivering in the wind.
Gu Pingwan was trying to call a ride, but 20 people were still ahead of her in line. When a white Porsche stopped in front of her, she instinctively stepped back—only to realize the driver looked like a walking mummy.
“High school classmate,” Qiang Huai rolled down the window. “Need a ride?”
The voice was unmistakably hers.
“I’m ordering a car, no need—” Gu Pingwan held up her phone to show her screen. But just as she spoke, the rain-soaked device blinked twice and went black.
Qiang Huai smirked under her mask. “Hop in. After all, we were once high school classmates, right?”