The Cold Queen is My Exclusive Little Snack - Chapter 23

#Chu Shiyin Zuo Xingning Bloodsucking

#When Will Newcomers Learn to Stand on Their Own?

Two trending topics: one explicitly naming names to surge to the top, the other dragging four or five obscure figures with related “scandals” along as fodder, all to emphasize the central figure.

Yu Siya had only shown her partial screenshots. The topic explicitly mentioning Chu Shiyin had already been suppressed, but the one without a direct name remained stubbornly resilient, its ranking fluctuating but never dropping below the top fifteen.

As Zuo Xingning scrolled through the tablet, her vision darkened with each passing moment.

The topic implying she couldn’t stand on her own also included the hashtag for Escape to Freedom. Last night was Saturday, the day the full episode of Escape to Freedom aired, and the preview for the next episode—the one featuring Chu Shiyin—had been released.

Many casual viewers with slower internet speeds were still unaware of Chu Shiyin’s appearance on the variety show. The moment the preview dropped, it instantly dominated the homepages of various video platforms.

Discussion around Escape to Freedom reached unprecedented levels. Marketing accounts swarmed in, some reminiscing about past episodes, others gushing over the assembled beauties, and still others carving out their own niche with analytical essays.

The latter group was led by a marketing account with millions of followers. Whether it had even ten thousand active followers was debatable, but its analytical article had undoubtedly purchased at least ten thousand bot accounts to amplify its reach.

Zuo Xingning remained the central target.

The article claimed that Zuo Xingning’s apology to the eliminated Chu Shiyin in the trailer likely stemmed from her drawing the monster role. Driven by ruthless ambition, she had allegedly eliminated the senior who had brought her onto the show.

This blogger, a master of subtle insinuation and self-promotion, quietly hid the Weibo post after it had been shared wildly for two hours. He then began posting vague, cryptic messages, attempting to portray himself as a victim silenced by powerful interests.

More and more marketing accounts piled on, ignoring the truth in pursuit of clicks. They recycled the same screenshots and churned out nearly identical videos.

The images, passed from hand to hand, grew increasingly pixelated, while the narrative grew increasingly “real.”

Zuo Xingning was now branded with the hashtags #BloodSucker and #UngratefulWolf.

After scouring the internet, Zuo Xingning was stunned. “They can analyze it like this?”

Yu Siya, driving ahead, scoffed. “Why not? Didn’t you say ‘I’m sorry’?”

Zuo Xingning paused. “I did.”

“Was that after Shiyin was eliminated?”

“Yes.”

“Why apologize to her if you didn’t eliminate her?”

Zuo Xingning choked, “That’s ridiculous! The live broadcast recorded everything! It wasn’t me!”

“Most people didn’t watch the live broadcast,” Yu Siya said with a mocking smile. “Online information is a mix of truth and lies. Who has the energy to sort it all out? As long as a rumor sounds plausible, people will believe it.”

Before the full episodes aired, the producers of Escape to Freedom prohibited fans from uploading recordings. Only fragmented clips with little context survived, making verification difficult. But…

“The full episode airs next Saturday. Why would they go to such lengths to spread rumors?” Zuo Xingning asked, puzzled.

“A week is plenty of time. Their real target is the next episode and Shiyin herself.”

“You were chosen as the first target for two reasons: first, you’re relatively unknown, with few die-hard fans, making you easy to manipulate; second, you’re currently the closest person to Shiyin.”

“In a way, you represent Shiyin and Lingyin Studio. By smearing you, they hope to damage Shiyin’s reputation as well.”

Zuo Xingning finally understood. The true target of the mastermind behind the scenes was Chu Shiyin, and she was merely collateral damage—a “fish caught in the crossfire.”

She tentatively asked, “Should I release a statement to clarify things?”

“No need,” Yu Siya replied. “Meng Zhi may seem unassuming, but anyone who’s survived in this industry for so long is not to be trifled with. If someone tries to use her show as a weapon, she won’t stand idly by. As for the rumors about you, I’ve already arranged for public relations to handle them.”

“I’m telling you this because Shiyin has a massive public following. This means anyone associated with her will face heightened scrutiny, even attacks and abuse. Today’s incident is just the beginning—a mere appetizer.”

The traffic light turned red, and Yu Siya stopped the car, her gaze scrutinizing Zuo Xingning.

“Just tell me: are you prepared to endure all of this?”

“Of course,” Zuo Xingning replied with a confident smile.

She wasn’t naive. After realizing her feelings for Chu Shiyin, she had already mentally rehearsed every possible scenario.

Whether it was online abuse or public backlash, there was only one future she couldn’t accept—

A future without Chu Shiyin.

The two fell silent, and before long, they arrived at an ordinary hotel near the airport.

About forty minutes earlier, Yu Siya had just waited for Zuo Xingning to emerge when she received a phone call. Before they could exchange more than a few words, she learned that the third female lead of the Fuyi drama, which had been filming for over a month, had suddenly quit. They urgently needed to find a replacement.

The third female lead was the main action role besides the protagonist. The director’s requirements were simple: young, skilled in martial arts, and capable of delivering a passable performance.

However, finding an actress who met all three criteria proved challenging. The casting director had been searching for days without success and was on the verge of flying to another city to scout for talent.

Upon hearing this, Yu Siya acted decisively. While urging Zuo Xingning to wash up and change, she contacted her network to obtain the director’s contact information, eventually securing a half-hour audition slot.

Without a script, armed only with a single line of character description, Yu Siya watched Zuo Xingning enter the audition room.

Only then did she have time to check the message Lin Fei had sent: four simple words—

Relationship issues.

Due to certain circumstances, Yu Siya had been temporarily staying at Lin Fei’s home recently.

Yu Siya happened to answer Chu Shiyin’s morning call to Lin Fei. Sensing something off in Chu Shiyin’s tone, Yu Siya had coaxed Lin Fei into promising to reveal at least a hint of Chu Shiyin’s condition before she left.

This was Lin Fei’s reply.

Relationship issues?

A month ago, Yu Siya would have dismissed those words as nonsense. But now, she dared not be so dismissive.

Chu Shiyin’s reduced medication frequency was the best evidence. The last time such a change had occurred was after Yu Siya rescued Tuantuan from the rain.

A year earlier, Lin Fei had explained that this was the strength Chu Shiyin gained from feeling needed.

Yu Siya couldn’t be sure if this explanation still held true. The only certainty was that Zuo Xingning had triggered this transformation—it could only be Zuo Xingning.

Who could have imagined? This young woman, so inexperienced in the world, had become the turning point in Chu Shiyin’s condition, potentially even resolving the problem that had plagued Chu Shiyin and Lin Fei for so long.

The Yu Siya of a month ago would never have believed it, and even now, she struggled to fully accept it.

All she could do was secretly pray—pray that Zuo Xingning would firmly capture Chu Shiyin’s heart. Otherwise, Yu Siya would have no explanation to offer either side.

Their progress is truly astonishingly rapid.

Yu Siya opened the window, and the autumn wind instantly swept in, tangling her hair.

Without boasting, she was undoubtedly one of the people who understood Chu Shiyin best in the world.

Unlike Zuo Xingning, who was outgoing and didn’t hide her feelings—someone anyone could easily see through—Chu Shiyin’s heart was like a window locked, nailed shut, and sealed with thick wooden planks.

It was incredibly difficult to make her lower her guard. The fact that Zuo Xingning had broken through so quickly could only mean one thing:

Chu Shiyin had never put up any defenses against her from the start.

This was highly unusual.

The answer might lie in Chu Shiyin’s earlier mention of having “met Zuo Xingning once as children.” That single encounter had given her an unusually high level of trust in Zuo Xingning.

Yu Siya had no desire to pry into others’ private affairs, and Chu Shiyin was certainly not someone she would ever try to pry into.

Therefore, her deduction could only go so far, even though she suspected Chu Shiyin’s therapist probably knew the full story.

The autumn wind chilled her fingertips. Yu Siya closed the window, a faint upward curve tugging at the corners of her lips.

Zuo Xingning, you’re one lucky bastard.

Meanwhile, Lin Fei and Chu Shiyin’s lengthy conversation finally reached its core.

As Yu Siya had warned, Chu Shiyin was a woman with formidable emotional defenses, a trait evident in her reluctance to reveal her true feelings to others.

Pressuring her would only backfire. Lin Fei had to engage in casual conversation while trying to deduce why Chu Shiyin had suddenly requested a “follow-up consultation.”

The answer soon became clear when Lin Fei glanced down and noticed red marks beneath Chu Shiyin’s collar.

Lin Fei discreetly informed Yu Siya, then quietly listened, piecing together useful information from Chu Shiyin’s rambling.

Just as she was beginning to think this was a simple case of helping a “newbie in love” navigate their troubles, Chu Shiyin suddenly uttered a series of unexpected remarks.

“So, let me get this straight,” Lin Fei paused, trying to untangle Chu Shiyin’s convoluted explanation. “You kissed your ‘sister’—a girl you only see as a younger sister—and now you’re confused and think you might be having some kind of episode?”

“Something like that?”

“…” The marks on her neck were far from a simple peck.

Lin Fei nearly lost her composure, her carefully maintained facade of calm cracking. She asked earnestly, “If your relationship is purely sisterly, how did you end up kissing?”

“She was drunk,” Chu Shiyin replied flatly.

“So that’s how it works…” Lin Fei murmured, mentally noting this new piece of information.

She continued, “I assume you were conscious during the kiss.”

“Yes,” Chu Shiyin nodded. “That’s why I want to understand why I accepted her kiss.”

What else could it be? You’ve fallen in love.

If Lin Fei were just Lin Fei, she would have blurted out that answer.

“Your psychology is quite straightforward to analyze.”

Lin Fei gazed into Chu Shiyin’s eyes, their ink-black pupils seemed to absorb all light, concealing the confusion and helplessness hidden deep within.

Chu Shiyin refused to allow herself such moments of vulnerability.

“The answer is—” Lin Fei narrowed her phoenix eyes.

“Chu Shiyin, you’re a pervert.”

Chu Shiyin froze, a rare flicker of genuine emotion crossing her face.

“Did you want me to say that?” Lin Fei leaned back lazily, adopting a completely non-threatening posture.

“Blaming your feelings on some kind of bewitchment allows you to avoid responsibility?”

“Tsk, Xingning really is such a pitiful, lovesick little sister.”

Lin Fei shook her head with a sigh. Chu Shiyin stiffened. “I didn’t say it was her.”

“Did I?” Lin Fei’s lips curled into a smile. “Shiyin, we’ve known each other for so long. You should know by now that when facing a doctor, honesty is essential.”

“But…” Chu Shiyin’s eyes dimmed as she whispered, “…I simply don’t have the capacity to love someone.”

From the moment she first saw Zuo Xingning, Chu Shiyin knew they belonged to different worlds. The same held true now.

The scars of her childhood were deeply etched into her soul, impossible to erase—perhaps forever.

The world loved the dazzling, meticulously crafted image of “Chu Shiyin,” the Best Actress. No one would ever love the real Chu Shiyin, the one covered in scars.

Zuo Xingning was likely the same.

Young love, though sincere and passionate, was also fragile, unable to withstand the slightest storm.

These words had remained locked in her heart, unspoken and perhaps forever unspeakable.

Lin Fei observed everything. She disliked patients who withheld information, but what could she do? She was a doctor.

Closing her notebook without writing anything down, she chuckled softly. “Lacking the capacity to love doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love. I believe you understand that.”

“So, let time take its course. At least give yourself a chance, and give Zuo Xingning some hope.”

“Otherwise, it would be too cruel to her, wouldn’t it?”