The Breakup Didn’t Stop Me From Owning the World - Chapter 8

When the driver circled the entrance of Xingyao Entertainment for the third time, Lan Muyu finally couldn’t stand the cold anymore. “Driver, could you please turn off the air conditioning?”

“Xiao Zhang, turn off the air conditioning.”

Upon hearing Li Ruonan’s instruction, the driver turned off the air conditioning.

But after a while, the temperature inside the car rose again. “Driver, could you turn on the air conditioning? Just a low setting?”

Li Ruonan cut in first, “The air conditioning is broken. Xiao Zhang hasn’t had time to get the car repaired today. If you don’t want it turned off, then keep quiet.”

Hearing Li Ruonan’s words, the driver slowed down and pretended to move his hand toward the air conditioning button. “Miss Lan, I’m really sorry. I’ll get the air conditioning fixed right away.”

Lan Muyu: ???

Money really does blind people. Did they think she didn’t notice the driver had deliberately turned it up to the highest setting without any hesitation in between?

She turned her head to size up Li Ruonan, whose arm hairs were standing on end yet remained as steady as a mountain. Lan Muyu couldn’t help but admire her from the bottom of her heart. Was this the self-control of a CEO?

Li Ruonan caught Lan Muyu’s gaze and spread her hands helplessly. “There’s nothing I can do either.”

After a moment of silence, Lan Muyu asked, “Where are we going next?”

“What do you think?”

It was rare for Li Ruonan to ask for her opinion, which showed her mood wasn’t bad. Lan Muyu suggested, “How about going to see a movie?”

“No.”

“The one I won an award for—netizens gave it high praise. Don’t you want to see it?”

Li Ruonan hesitated for a while, but under Lan Muyu’s expectant gaze, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. “Fine. But there are too many people outside, and it wouldn’t look good for you. I’ll have someone buy a copy. We have a home theater.”

The corners of Lan Muyu’s lips quickly curled upward. “Great!”

“But I’m only doing this to assess your value and see if giving you resources is appropriate,” Li Ruonan explained.

“Mm, I get it, I get it.” Lan Muyu was already used to Li Ruonan’s stubborn refusal to admit things and didn’t bother arguing. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the commercial street ahead and called out to the driver, “Stop the car! I want to get out.”

“What are you going to do?”

“There’s a milk tea shop up ahead. How can we watch a movie without drinks?”

Li Ruonan’s gaze swept unabashedly over Lan Muyu’s stomach. “Are the standards for artists these days so low? You just had breakfast and now you want milk tea? No need to watch your figure?”

“The standards aren’t low, but I’m naturally beautiful.” Lan Muyu blinked at her. “I can eat whatever I want without gaining weight. Others can only envy me.”

Li Ruonan scoffed. “Poor digestion and trouble absorbing nutrients—what’s there to be proud of?”

Lan Muyu hadn’t expected Li Ruonan to still remember that. She had always had a weak constitution, with frequent stomach issues and poorer nutrient absorption than most. During her college entrance exam period, her mother, afraid she’d collapse from exhaustion, forced her to drink traditional Chinese medicine daily to regulate her health.

Li Ruonan, who had been the top scorer in Yancheng’s college entrance exams that year, was frequently invited by Lan Muyu’s mother to tutor her during her graduate studies, hoping she could help Lan Muyu with her studies.

A harmonious tutoring session was out of the question. At best, one would grind through exam questions while the other reviewed reports, barely exchanging a few words by the end of the day—already the greatest compromise between them.

Who would have thought that after all these years, Li Ruonan still remembered this detail. Being remembered by someone always brings a touch of warmth, but Lan Muyu didn’t back down. She insisted, “I want to get out of the car.”

As Lan Muyu’s hand reached for the door handle, ready to open it, she finally got Li Ruonan’s concession. “Xiao Zhang, pull over.”

With her goal achieved, Lan Muyu’s lips curled into a smile. She quickly opened the door and dashed out. The sweltering heat outside gradually warmed her body, and the blazing sun felt more comfortable than ever at that moment.

Afraid that Li Ruonan might lose patience and leave her stranded on the roadside, Lan Muyu put on her mask and ran straight to the nearest milk tea shop.

Without even glancing at the menu, she ordered, “Two cups of hot cocoa, seven parts sugar.”

Amid a crowd sipping on refreshing iced drinks, Lan Muyu stood out like a sore thumb, drawing curious glances. Fortunately, the staff worked quickly, and the two cups of hot cocoa were packed and handed to her in minutes.

Carrying the drinks, Lan Muyu hurried back to where the car was parked. Seeing Li Ruonan’s car still there, she let out a small sigh of relief and climbed back in.

Running with a mask on had left her face covered in sweat. Li Ruonan wrinkled her nose and tossed a box of tissues at her. “You’re such a mess. Disgusting.”

Lan Muyu ignored the jab. After setting the drinks aside, she took off her mask and tidied herself up.

About ten minutes into the drive, Lan Muyu began to notice something odd—why hadn’t she cooled down completely yet?

The air conditioning was clearly set to the lowest setting!

Her hand, which had been about to pass the other cup of hot cocoa to Li Ruonan, froze mid-air. “Is the AC broken?”

Li Ruonan’s outstretched hand pretended nothing had happened as she grabbed a newspaper from the back of the passenger seat, replying nonchalantly, “It’s working again now.”

Hah, as if I’d believe that.

Right in front of Li Ruonan, Lan Muyu aggressively tore open two straws, stabbing them into the drinks as if they were Li Ruonan herself. She alternated sips from each cup, deliberately slurping loudly.

By the time the car came to a stop, Lan Muyu let out an ungraceful burp, prompting Li Ruonan to swiftly lean away.

Lan Muyu smirked and quickly caught up to her. “So, does what you said earlier still stand?”

“Of course. The film’s already been sent over.”

Lan Muyu couldn’t help but sigh, “Being rich is really something.”

Li Ruonan scoffed. “Too bad you’re not.”

Lan Muyu: …Why must you state the obvious?

They entered the home theater, where despite the spacious sofa, a full meter separated them. As the opening credits rolled, Lan Muyu’s portrayal of the mute character drew them in, and they were soon engrossed in the story.

When the end credits began to play, Li Ruonan turned her head. Under the dim lighting, Lan Muyu had already fallen asleep on the sofa. Li Ruonan quietly inched closer, moving as stealthily as a secret lover sneaking in at midnight.

She gazed at the sleeping face before her—long lashes fluttering slightly, devoid of its usual feisty demeanor. Worried Lan Muyu might catch a chill, she decided to fetch a thin blanket. But just as she was about to stand, a hand grabbed her arm.

Lan Muyu, who had seemed utterly drained just moments ago, now propped her head up with one hand. The delicate chiffon fabric at her chest had slipped slightly, revealing the smooth curve of her snow-white shoulder. Her long legs were entwined, and the hem of her short skirt invited endless imagination.

The two were extremely close. Lan Muyu’s hand, which had been holding Li Ruonan’s, slid downward, lightly hooking Li Ruonan’s fingertips. Her peach-blossom eyes brimmed with amusement. “President Li… are you plotting something untoward against me?”

Li Ruonan abruptly shook off Lan Muyu’s arm, even stumbling back onto the carpet as she snapped, “Nonsense!”

“Oh? But it was you who kept staring at me while I was asleep.” Lan Muyu stepped off the sofa and crouched before Li Ruonan, her voice laced with an inexplicable allure. “How is that nonsense? Hmm?”

Just then, a phone ringtone shattered Li Ruonan’s embarrassment. She quickly stood up to answer the call. After listening to the other end, she cast a meaningful glance at Lan Muyu and replied, “She’s with me. Proceed with the PR as planned. Lan Muyu will cooperate if needed.”

From Li Ruonan’s expression, Lan Muyu sensed something amiss. The earlier flirtatious atmosphere dissipated. “What’s happened?”

“Someone is smearing you on Weibo. It seems Fu Yao has made a move.”

Lan Muyu swiftly opened Weibo and found her name trending again—only this time, the hashtag read: #LanMuyuGetOutOfTheEntertainmentIndustry.

The incident had to be traced back to its origin.

Initially, a prominent influencer posted a cryptic Weibo hinting at a certain celebrity’s ingratitude and emotional manipulation:

Industry Insider: A certain award-winning rising starlet, immediately after gaining fame, cheated and abandoned her lover. The entertainment industry is truly cutthroat.

Though this account was often criticized by fans of various celebrities, its leaks were known for their credibility. Netizens began speculating about every young actress in the industry. With recent awards ceremonies for TV dramas and films in full swing, it wasn’t an easy guess.

Fans of these actresses, already on edge, skipped self-defense and outright bombarded the ‘Industry Insider’ Weibo post. Scrolling through the comments revealed nothing but accusations of the account profiting from baseless rumors.

The Industry Insider didn’t respond but merely updated with another post half an hour later:

This starlet demanded exorbitant fees to inflate her worth, reneging on an agreed contract and leaving others in the lurch.

This update sent Weibo into another frenzy. What had initially been a private matter of relationships—something netizens treated as gossip—now escalated into a breach of contract. In any industry, last-minute contract cancellations after painstaking negotiations could render everyone’s efforts futile. Empathizing with this, netizens grew indignant.

From the starlet’s contract violation to their own workplace grievances, the outrage snowballed into a storm of vitriol across the internet.

Those who had previously attacked the Industry Insider now clamored to uncover the starlet’s identity. Meanwhile, the online backlash against the unnamed actress intensified:

“Who is this person anyway? Winning an award doesn’t give her the right to break contracts and act like a diva!”

“Cheating? I despise cheaters! Both the cheater and the homewrecker deserve to be blacklisted!”

“So who in the entertainment industry has contracts expiring soon?”

“Thankfully my wife’s contract still has several years left.”

“You guys scared me into checking with the fan club right away. Luckily my idol just renewed his contract early this year.”

“…”

On Weibo, fans of various celebrities were busy clarifying the situation. But the more fans tried to distance their idols from the rumors, the more curious the casual observers became.

Just as netizens were completely clueless, a minor celebrity named Han Feifei reposted and commented on the post, “What goes around comes around—truth can’t stay hidden forever. I saw her flirting left and right on set, indiscriminate about gender, while maintaining that pure, inspirational image publicly. Tsk.”

Though Han Feifei had few followers, sharp-eyed fans noticed and shared her post. Her feud with Lan Muyu was no secret among fans, making it obvious who the industry insider was referring to.

Fu Yao had already hired internet trolls to gradually guide fans toward the truth, but Han Feifei unexpectedly jumped in, saving a lot of effort. The trolls quickly joined in, working with Han Feifei to push the topic straight to the trending list.

Within minutes, old rumors resurfaced—about Lan Muyu being difficult on set during the filming of Whispering Love in My Heart, accepting shady deals, and having a messy personal life. Some even outright claimed her awards were undeserved.

The entertainment industry was always a mix of truth and lies. Fans who had just begun to adore this rising star through her movie were now told it was all fake—a harder pill to swallow for them than for casual observers.

Weibo exploded with comments, most mocking and criticizing Lan Muyu, while the few dissenting voices were drowned out by the trolls.

In no time, netizens were calling for a boycott, with public opinion overwhelmingly demanding Lan Muyu’s exit from the entertainment industry.