The Green Tea Actress Has Too Much After-Show Drama - Chapter 34

Ran Long’s Weibo fans surged by tens of thousands as her name repeatedly topped trending searches.

Her private messages were bombarded with messages, many from Qiu An’s fans demanding to know why she hadn’t followed Qiu An back.

Perhaps mindful of their “Qiu An fan” label, their wording was carefully veiled, asking things like, “Sister, did you forget to follow back?” The underlying message, however, was clear: “You’re really pushing your luck.”

It was understandable. Any Qiu An fan who visited Ran Long’s profile and saw “Qiu An is following her,” then returned to Qiu An’s page to find “Ran Long isn’t following her back,” would inevitably lose their composure.

Bet you didn’t expect this, Ran Long thought smugly. No matter how much you delude yourselves with one-sided fantasies, it won’t change the fact that your “sister” is the one shamelessly chasing after me like a desperate simp.

Ran Long boldly shared the live stream link on Weibo, knowing full well that many would accuse her of being shameless and exploiting the situation to make money.

She didn’t care. After all, what they were saying was true.

Do these people really look down on me for making money through live streaming? Or are they just sour grapes because they can’t do it themselves?

Think about it: has your precious Sister Qiu’an ever been too proud to exploit opportunities for profit?

If you ask Ran Long, Qiu An is no high-minded artist or cultural worker. In the past two years, what money-making scheme hasn’t she exploited? Movies, TV shows, variety programs, live streams, endorsement deals, even starting her own studio to promote newcomers—she’s been cashing in on every industry she touches!

It’s laughable. Being sold out and still counting the money for your betrayer? That’s exactly what Qiu An’s fans are doing.

Do any of them have as much money as Qiu An? Yet they’re always clamoring for everyone to support her “career.” What, does her studio share its profits with you?

Even after steeling herself with such mental defenses, the moment Ran Long’s live stream went live, it was instantly flooded with people who couldn’t stand her. A torrent of hateful comments cascaded down the screen like a waterfall, leaving her utterly exasperated.

Though the viewership was high, the actual donations were pitifully low. The conversion rate was so abysmal that even the Live Streaming Platform considered reporting it to the authorities—a pure waste of server resources.

Amidst the barrage of insults—”No pretense anymore, just straight-up begging for money now,” “Your ugly face makes me sick,” “Did the Super Malevolent Woman beat anyone up on set today?”—Ran Long suddenly saw a figure riding a white horse, radiating golden light, make a dazzling entrance.

Yes, her “True Love Fan” had arrived.

According to the Live Streaming Platform’s rules, each live stream room’s fans were assigned a rank and title based on their donation amount. Streamers could customize these titles, including their text styles and background images.

One day, out of boredom, Ran Long opened the backend settings and configured these features:

For newcomers who hadn’t donated, who typically came to hurl insults, Ran Long named them “Villain,” with the title displayed in red and no background image.

The highest-tier title, reserved for the “Top Big Brother,” was bestowed upon only one person. Ran Long named him “True Love Fan” and casually selected a unicorn frame as the background image, with the text styled in shimmering gold.

However, this “True Love Fan” had always maintained a low profile, concealing his title and using the single-character ID “Huan.”

But today, Boss Huan not only displayed his customized title but also purchased a special typing effect from the platform, causing each character he typed to shimmer with dazzling golden light.

He sent lengthy messages that scrolled across the entire screen like a charged-up ultimate move, clearing out a wave of lesser minions with an area-of-effect attack.

“What’s wrong with making money? Is earning a living shameful? Your parents sacrifice their dignity and exhaust themselves every day just to put food on the table, clothes on your backs, and books in your hands! Yet you’re here online insulting people who work hard? Doesn’t your conscience hurt?”

“If you’re disgusted, don’t watch! Is clicking ‘exit’ that hard? No one cares about your opinion. Stop whining endlessly—are you just here to get insulted? Have you even finished your summer homework? Why are you wasting the streamer’s time with this nonsense? The streamer isn’t broadcasting for you! The world doesn’t revolve around you—is that so hard to understand?”

“Even the most ‘super malevolent woman’ can’t match your level of toxicity! Is cyberbullying not violence? You talk so high and mighty, but you’re just using it as an excuse to bully people. Hiding behind your keyboard to point fingers at strangers—what makes you so righteous?”

Boss Huan’s comments flooded the screen with lightning speed, giving the impression of one person battling a hundred. By the time Ran Long took a sip of water, Boss Huan’s barrage had already filled the chat again, likely thanks to her expert use of voice-to-text software.

Ran Long imagined that even if the two sides engaged in a voice chat flame war, the “True Love Fans” could drown these “Super Malevolent Women” in their spittle alone. The thought made her chuckle.

Of course, it was also deeply satisfying.

Ran Long watched from the sidelines as Boss Huan waged her frenzied verbal war against the masses, punctuated by a donation banner: “Set my permissions to moderator.”

Finally, it was her turn. Ran Long opened the backend, selected Boss Huan, and set her as a moderator. After completing the task, she accidentally clicked again, redirecting her to Boss Huan’s profile page.

Ran Long noticed a pink gender marker next to Boss Huan’s ID. She was a woman.

So, my “Big Brother” is actually a Big Sister. I knew it!

Ran Long had visited Boss Huan’s profile before, but she had never seen this gender marker.

The first time Ran Long suspected Boss Huan was a woman was when her former manager forced her to contact viewers privately and call them “Big Brother.” Boss Huan had firmly refused, saying, “Don’t contact me unless necessary. If you must call me something, ‘Boss’ will do.”

The second time Ran Long suspected Boss Huan was a woman was when her former manager pressured her to do suggestive streams. Boss Huan had intervened just in time, scolding her sternly. She had said, “Just stream what you enjoy, except for suggestive content… unless you genuinely like it.”

Ran Long stared at Boss Huan’s profile for a long time, a ridiculous guess gripping her mind.

Startled, she quickly dismissed the thought, afraid to dwell on it. She hastily gulped down a large glass of cold water to calm her nerves, her fingers trembling as she exited Boss Huan’s profile.

Returning to her live stream room, Ran Long noticed the comment section was suddenly deserted, yet the number of viewers remained unchanged.

At first, she assumed the system had glitched due to anti-fans spamming the chat. But after checking the backend, she discovered over ten thousand new entries on the Blacklist—all banned from commenting!

Good grief, she blacklisted everyone at once?!

Boss Huan’s blacklisting strategy had proven remarkably effective.

Though silenced, the anti-fans retained the ability to send donations. This meant if they wanted to hurl insults, they’d have to do so through donation banners!

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the anti-fans realized this and began spamming donation banners, causing the live stream’s revenue to skyrocket.

What a business genius! If Boss Huan weren’t already wealthy, Ran Long would have insisted on splitting tonight’s earnings with her.

Since people were throwing money at her regardless of whether she spoke, Ran Long decided to ignore the live stream entirely and opened Boss Huan’s private chat.

“I’ve never asked you this before,” she typed, “but you’re a woman, right?”

Huan replied, “The anti-fans are spreading rumors that you’re being kept by a sugar daddy. I changed my gender to female so it’ll become ‘kept by a sugar mommy’—sounds a bit more flattering.”

Ran Long: ……

Xi Xi and Sister Hou both disliked rides that relied solely on weightlessness, but it was getting late, and only the pirate ship-style ride still had a line.

Driven by curiosity, they decided to give it a try.

The result was that the two, still shaken from the ride, got into a taxi home. When they checked their phones, they nearly had a heart attack.

Like Ran Long, Sister Hou hadn’t known that last night’s dinner was a semi-public gathering. Seeing Ran Long’s disheveled appearance plastered all over the homepage, she panicked.

She turned to ask Xi Xi what to do, only to find Xi Xi looking equally thunderstruck.

“This, this… How could a supposedly top-secret film crew leak information like this? Will it affect the future marketing campaign?”

“Huh? What did you say?” Xi Xi was completely out of it.

“These trending topics!” Sister Hou shoved her phone at Xi Xi.

Xi Xi glanced at it dismissively. “This is a planned early reveal. Didn’t you know?”

“Huh? Planned?”

“Of course. This is Director Yuan and Sister Qiu’an’s crew. They wouldn’t let leaks happen easily. Even if someone managed to sneak a photo, it would be intercepted before it went public.”

“Oh no, this is a disaster! Ran Long didn’t even dress up for the ceremony. Look at what they’re saying—that Ran Long isn’t even as pretty as Qiu An’s assistant!”

Xi Xi chuckled, teasing her, “So, who do you think is prettier, me or her?”

Sister Hou scratched her neck and whispered, “You look better in photos.”

“What about in person?”

“Hmm…” Sister Hou, ever the honest child, took Xi Xi’s question seriously. Ignoring the person sitting beside her, she hesitated for a long moment before finally admitting, “I… I can’t decide.”

Xi Xi found her indecision amusing and let her off the hook. “Alright, stop thinking about it. I was just joking. Come look at this.”

Xi Xi handed her phone to Sister Hou, displaying Ran Long’s live stream room. The streamer was idly scrolling through her phone, the comment section empty except for messages being spammed in banners.

“What’s this now…” Sister Hou’s face fell the moment she saw her idol.

She didn’t know what had happened, but she sensed something terrible was brewing.

For example, she had meticulously planned Ran Long’s comeback image—a resilient woman who wouldn’t be defeated by adversity, rumors, or misunderstandings. Now, all she saw was an arrogant, image-obsessed woman whose sole purpose seemed to be making money.

The sky was about to fall.

But Xi Xi’s sky was collapsing for entirely different reasons.

After noticing the unusual activity in Ran Long’s live stream room, she immediately searched for recorded replays. What she found was her boss, Qiu An, the “Boss Huan” account, jumping up and down in the comments section, unleashing a full-blown tirade.

Did she really think no one would trace the person behind that account?!

All online comments now required real-name verification, and the registered owner of the “Huan” account was none other than Xi Xi herself, Qiu An’s most trusted confidante.

Even if Xi Xi herself avoided direct consequences, the incident would inevitably be linked to Qiu An.

Not just some people—everyone would!

If this were exposed, how could she possibly spin it?

Even if it remained hidden, the public relations fees to suppress the scandal would be astronomical.

Moreover, among the anti-fans Qiu An had been cursing, there were bound to be some of Xi Xi’s own fans…

Xi Xi sighed.

Qiu An’s life was over the moment she crossed paths with Ran Long.

As she lamented, a banner flashed across the screen. Its striking appearance immediately caught the attention of all four of them.

Unlike other small donations, this banner’s special effects were wildly extravagant, filling the screen with a barrage of fireworks and rockets, accompanied by a diudiubiubiu sound effect.

Having spent considerable time in Ran Long’s live stream room, Xi Xi was familiar with its various features. She knew, for example, that this banner cost 8,888 yuan.

What struck her as odd was that the donor’s name wasn’t “Huan,” but rather “Yu Le,” a name she’d never seen before.

The banner contained no other information, only a cloyingly affectionate “Ranran, my darling~”

For some reason, the banner seemed to play an audio clip. Both Xi Xi and Sister Hou were disgusted by the endearment, their skin crawling so hard they left goosebumps scattered across the floor.

Sister Hou pointed at the banner and asked, “Who is this person? They don’t seem like a fan.”

Xi Xi shook her head, indicating she didn’t know.

However, her keen instincts had already detected the scent of an impending storm.

A large donation coupled with such intimate language—regardless of whether this person was male or female, young or old, fan, friend, or relative—meant they had already become Qiu An’s rival in love.