Stealing My Ex's White Moonlight - Chapter 12

Backstage at the variety show, in the dressing room, Song Wei was pointing her finger at the makeup artist’s nose, berating her. Everyone else was busy with their own tasks, too afraid to speak up.

“Do you have Parkinson’s or something? You poked the eyeliner into my eye! Can’t you do your job properly? If you can’t, then get the hell out!”

With that, Song Wei kicked a nearby stool flying.

The makeup artist bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes, her voice trembling, “I’ll redo it.”

She reached for a cotton pad to wipe away Song Wei’s eyeliner, but Song Wei slapped her hand away.

“Get out! You’re bad luck.”

The makeup artist silently gathered her things and left. Seeing this, the other makeup artists rushed to comfort her. “Xiao Yu, don’t be upset. Song Wei’s temper is notoriously awful. How hasn’t she been canceled yet?!”

The makeup artist wiped her tears. “I’m fine. You guys should go back inside before she yells at you too.”

One of them muttered darkly, “Zhang Xing posted on Weibo that he’ll reveal something big on Friday. Today’s Friday. I wonder what bombshell he’s dropping. I really hope it’s about Song Wei.”

Zhang Xing, the entertainment industry’s top paparazzi, was also known as the “Entertainment Industry’s Anti-Corruption Commission.”

Even a minor scandal from him could shake the entire industry to its core, forcing celebrities to walk on eggshells, terrified of being caught in the crossfire.

They knew it was unlikely. Song Wei’s father was a wealthy businessman; even if a major scandal broke, he could probably buy his way out of it.

“Quick, check Weibo!”

Lounge.

Song Wei swiped through the photos, each one showing her and a female model on vacation three years ago. The images depicted them playing in the hotel pool, embracing, and kissing in highly indecent poses.

The online comments were even more vulgar.

Her face darkened as she screamed into her phone, “Didn’t you bribe Zhang Xing to keep quiet? What kind of PR team are you running?! Get these posts taken down immediately!”

Her manager, Yang Liu, was frantic. Before Zhang Xing’s exposé, she had already contacted Brother Xu to inquire about the situation. He had assured her that Song Wei wasn’t involved.

Yet, the moment Zhang Xing released the information, the bribe money was returned untouched.

After five or six years of collaboration, Brother Xu had suddenly turned against her.

“Don’t panic,” Yang Liu said. “Our PR team is working overtime on damage control. We’ve even paid some writers to whitewash your image.”

“But let’s be realistic—this scandal is likely beyond containment. The other side came prepared and has practically bought up half the internet’s traffic.”

Song Wei gritted her teeth. “I don’t want excuses! I want results! Why did this get leaked? How do we make it stop?!”

After a moment, Yang Liu replied, “Have you offended someone recently?”

Offended someone?

Song Wei immediately thought of Jiang You. Rationally, she knew Jiang You lacked the money and influence to orchestrate such a massive scandal. Yet her gut told her Jiang You was behind it all.

“And… Zhang Xing’s team is planning a second wave of leaks.”

“Damn it! Damn it!”

Song Wei frantically clawed at her hair, then swept the bottles and jars off her vanity table in a fit of rage.

Her assistant subtly shifted position to avoid being hit by the flying debris.

“The entertainment reporters know you’re doing a live broadcast at the TV station. They’re all waiting outside. Stay there for now. I’ll come pick you up later.”

“Oh, right. Did anything go wrong during the broadcast?”

Song Wei’s eyes burned with venom, her mind consumed by Jiang You.

Zhang Xing’s team had thrown out a little bait, and the entertainment bloggers and content creators had taken the bait, refusing to let go.

In an instant, negative news about Song Wei’s diva-like behavior on set, assaulting staff, and insulting fans became the ultimate clickbait for entertainment bloggers.

Soon after, Song Wei’s studio Weibo account issued a statement declaring the allegations baseless and threatening legal action against the influential figures spreading the rumors.

A new wave of netizens emerged online, fiercely defending Song Wei and attempting to clear her name.

“The photo is so blurry! I could easily claim it’s someone else.”

“What a joke! ‘Entertainment Industry Discipline Committee’? Why don’t they release a high-resolution photo?”

“Even elementary school kids are online now. They’re so young and easily influenced—they just believe whatever they’re told.”

“Song Wei is a genuine and straightforward person. People are just taking things out of context! They don’t even bother to look at the full story before accusing her of being a diva, assaulting staff, and insulting fans!”

Song Wei’s fan club, feeling vindicated, armed themselves with keyboards and joined the online battle.

The fans were convinced that Song Wei had been wronged, fueling their righteous fury as they hurled insults with renewed fervor.

The internet had become polarized: one side condemning Song Wei, the other condemning those who condemned her.

“Why hasn’t Zhang Xing deleted his Weibo post yet?!”

In just a few days, Zhang Xing’s Weibo post about Song Wei had amassed over 50,000 comments and a staggering 200,000 shares.

Yang Liu hadn’t slept in two days. No matter how enticing her offers, Zhang Xing’s team refused to budge.

Her own artists’ relentless questioning, outbursts, and accusations only deepened her exhaustion.

She understood that as long as Zhang Xing’s Weibo post remained online, the public outcry would not subside. No matter how many paid trolls she hired, she couldn’t control the narrative.

“Deleting Zhang Xing’s Weibo isn’t about money,” Yang Liu said, her face weary. “Weiwei, don’t you get it? This is a deliberate attempt to ruin you.”

“The only way to defuse this crisis is to bury it under an even bigger scandal.”

“I’ll keep brainstorming solutions. You stay home for now—don’t go out. The paparazzi are everywhere.”

“Ah—!”

Song Wei trashed her home, leaving it in utter chaos, as if it had been ransacked.

Her eyes bloodshot, she paced barefoot, her feet bleeding from shards of porcelain and glass scattered across the floor. Yet she felt no pain.

Her assistant couldn’t bear to watch. “Sister Wei, your feet…”

“Get out!” Song Wei grabbed the nearest object and hurled it at her. “That b1tch Jiang You is probably laughing at me right now. I won’t let her win. Sister Cheng… yes, Sister Cheng will help me.”

Song Wei’s scandal had become a massive online sensation, yet within the entertainment industry, few dared to discuss it.

No one could guarantee they wouldn’t be the next Song Wei. Indulging in a moment’s gossip and offending the wrong person simply wasn’t worth the risk.

Shi Mi had no time for gossip. She remained diligently focused on filming Youth Chronicle.

During a break, she reclined in a rocking chair, resting, when she received a message from Lin Wanqing: she was expected to attend a cocktail party that evening.

Before filming wrapped for the day, Lin Wanqing’s luxury van pulled up to the set. Sharp-eyed crew members immediately recognized it, sparking speculation about why the star had appeared.

Lin Wanqing’s fans were even more excited, itching to rush over for autographs and photos.

A junior production assistant whipped out her phone, snapping photos frantically. “Ahhh! Wanqing, my goddess! I’ve dreamed of getting her autograph!”

Shi Mi glanced over, thinking, Lin Wanqing’s still in the van. What’s the point of taking pictures?

Just then, a woman emerged from the van. After a moment’s thought, Shi Mi realized it was Feng Zhimei, Lin Wanqing’s manager.

Feng Zhimei approached Shi Mi. “Are you done filming? Wanqing is waiting for you.”

“I was just about to head over.”

Shi Mi had initially planned to leave immediately, but the production assistant kept giving her pleading looks.

“You want an autograph, right?”

The assistant nodded eagerly, like a chick pecking at grain. “Yes!”

After a moment, Feng Zhimei returned with the signed photo. The assistant hugged Shi Mi in delight. “Thank you, Sister Jiang! You’re the best! Waaah, from today on, you’re my favorite!”

Once the excitement subsided, the assistant’s curiosity resurfaced. “Sister Jiang, what’s your relationship with Sister Wanqing? I’ve never heard anything about you two…”

Shi Mi leaned in close, and the assistant strained to hear.

With a mysterious smile, Shi Mi whispered four words: “I won’t tell you.”