Chapter 23: You Two Really Aren’t Dating?

For Jiang Qi to say something like that, it had taken a lot of courage and effort.

Unfortunately, Jiang Wan still didn’t understand his feelings.

Very quickly, she rebutted, “You’re the one who’s being silly. He’s a male actor, I’m a female actor—our development paths are totally different. What kind of resources could he possibly steal from me?”

Her next endorsement was for sanitary pads. If Wei Hao wanted to quit acting and compete for that, let him try and see whether netizens wouldn’t scold him into the ground.

Jiang Qi hadn’t expected such a response from Jiang Wan. He was momentarily at a loss for words but still tried to explain: “He holds a lot of influence within the production crew. Just one word from him and other actors could easily get kicked out. Anywhere he’s involved in the future, you won’t be welcome.”

Jiang Wan replied with full disdain, “You think I want to work with him?”

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of staging this entire act with Jiang Qi!

In Jiang Wan’s mind—

Wei Hao = Censorship = Taken off-air = Wasted effort.

Seeing that Jiang Qi was about to keep talking, Jiang Wan grew annoyed. She didn’t understand why he was being so naggy today.

She cut him off directly: “Even if this has nothing to do with me, you two are arch-enemies, right? If I were your girlfriend, he’d especially not let me off.”

“I’m not a child. Since I came to you, that was a choice. I know exactly what I’m doing. Just go ahead and release the footage from your security cameras. No need to worry about me.”

If she was going to offend Wei Hao anyway, why bother lying now and having to cover it up with more lies later? That’s just exhausting.

Jiang Wan hated trouble.

But to Jiang Qi, all of her words were distilled into six simple characters:

“I’m on your side.”

---

Later that day—

@JiangQi_Studio V:

“Here’s the full recording from last night. If anyone has questions, feel free to watch.
Huge thanks to Ms. Jiang Wan for helping our young Mr. Jiang rehearse lines.
See you all when filming begins~”

A surveillance video at 8x speed, no editing, was released by Jiang Qi’s studio. It shocked the entire internet.

The two were completely clean—truly, the evidence was irrefutable.

[You two? Uh? What?]

[Sorry, I finally understand… the dirty one isn’t the world, it’s my own mind.]

[So… they really just stayed up all night rehearsing?!]

[What is even happening? These two are too abstract, I’m losing it!]

[Currently watching, currently shook.]

[I swear! I just… swear!]

[Suddenly they seem kind of shippable again… I thought it was a romance, turns out they’re both just workaholics.]

The internet exploded in laughter.

After all, such a dramatic plot twist was truly rare.

Then, one CP fan commented under Jiang Qi’s Weibo:

[You two really aren’t dating?! I’m heartbroken 😭]

To which Jiang Qi replied:

[Mm. We’re not dating right now.]

Netizens: “?!”

[Jiang Qi?! Explain what you mean by right now??!!]

[Not dating now? Does that mean they might date later??]

[Holy sh*t, is there still hope?!]

Of course—

Jiang Qi gave no further response to the new wave of speculation caused by his ambiguous reply.

Meng Yan lay lazily on the couch scrolling through his phone. When he saw the Weibo post, he casually forwarded it to Xie Zhiyi and teased, “These two are really something. Even if they’re not dating now, they’re definitely in the ‘ambiguous phase.’ Look at them—same show, same opportunity—and yet you’re still stuck at square one?”

Xie Zhiyi didn’t even look up. He replied flatly, “All that shows is that Jiang Qi likes her.”

Meng Yan shook his head and said, “Not true, not true. That audition opportunity—Jiang Wan got it for Jiang Qi. That’s called mutual pursuit.”

He added with a hint of mockery, “Didn’t Jiang Qi sound all devoted on the show when he talked about his first love? Even I was moved. Who would’ve thought he’d move on this fast?”

“If you ask me, he doesn’t even come close to our Best Actor Xie—faithfully holding onto a faceless online crush for years without even meeting her.”

—

Meng Yan was always the type who loved drama and chaos, and with this kind of heat and publicity, only a fool wouldn’t seize the chance.

So he immediately logged into the drama’s official Weibo and made a surprise announcement, tagging all three lead actors.

@SpringUnreturned_Drama V:

“One cup of autumn, not yet drunk. An old friend, spring unreturned.
@SongJunshuV @JiangQiV @JiangWanV”

Most official drama announcements only tagged two leads.

This three-person announcement was rare—and it proved that while Jiang Wan might technically be a second lead, her role’s importance was no less than that of the main cast.

Netizens: “!!!”

[Wait… this is Director Meng’s drama? YESSS!]

[I’m losing it—those three faces in one drama?!]

[OMG the female lead is Song Junshu?! She hasn’t acted in years!!]

[So excited for this!!]

Jiang Qi: “???”

He immediately sent a message:

[You’re not playing the female lead?]

Jiang Wan replied with a question mark.

Meng Yan’s female lead?

What was she, kidding?

Her status wasn’t even in the same league. Being able to play the second female lead was already an incredible opportunity. Jiang Qi must really think highly of her to have misunderstood this badly.

The difference in status between her and Song Junshu was night and day.

Song Junshu was one of China’s undisputed top-tier female stars, the only woman in the top ten of super-topic rankings.

Put simply, any big-budget drama with a list of potential female leads—her name would always be on it.

She had a naturally cold and elegant look, perfectly suited for period dramas. Most of her projects were historical romance.

Three years ago, she fell ill and faded from the entertainment industry. But her popularity never waned.

Fans had waited years—finally, their “white moonlight” had returned.

Jiang Wan didn’t even dare to imagine: if not for Wei Hao being a rotten egg ruining things for Spring Unreturned, just how successful could this drama have been?

—

Meanwhile—

Wei Hao, in a fit of rage, smashed several things in his room.

He wasn’t stupid.

Song Junshu’s comeback drama, directed by Meng Yan—he knew exactly how massive the attention would be. Once it aired, any actor in the main cast would immediately get a career boost.

The role had been his, practically guaranteed—until Jiang Qi swooped in and snatched it away.

The duck was already in his mouth—and it flew away!

How could he possibly swallow that anger?

Sitting on the couch, he looked up and saw his assistant cowering in a corner, trying his best to be invisible. Immediately, he found a new target for his rage.

He barked, “Come here. Tell me—who’s the better actor, me or Jiang Qi?”

The assistant forced a flattering smile. “O-Of course it’s you…”

“Liar!”

Wei Hao kicked him hard in the shin and roared, “If I’m so great, why did Meng Yan replace me?!”

The assistant was tongue-tied, stammering, unable to respond. Wei Hao, still furious, grabbed an ashtray and hurled it at him.

The assistant trembled in pain but didn’t dare dodge. He knew: unless he said something that would soothe Wei Hao, he was in for a very bad time.

So he quickly blurted out: “I think it’s Jiang Wan—she stayed up all night rehearsing with Jiang Qi. We all know Jiang Qi’s acting level. If she hadn’t drilled the performance into him, there’s no way he could’ve gotten the role!”

Those words hit the mark, shifting the blame.

Wei Hao let out a cold laugh, repeating to himself:

“…Jiang Wan. Well then. Let’s see just how capable you really are.”