Trending Again – Chapter 13

Rest Assured, I Can Act Even Better Than You

Since she had publicly announced she was severely injured and unhealed, Si Meng had been forced to accept Lin Hanyue’s “service” these past few days. But Si Meng couldn’t wrap her head around it—she was the patient, yet her meals had been getting worse and worse.

“What’s… today’s soup?” Si Meng asked haltingly, recalling the smell of yesterday’s batch—she’d rather drink from the toilet…

            

“Pig brain, sea cucumber, and sheep testicle soup. It’s very nourishing. You have to finish it all.” Lin Hanyue carefully opened the thermos, and steam billowed out. She had personally simmered this soup for five hours—Uncle Wang had said it would be very restorative.

The moment Lin Hanyue opened the thermos, Si Meng’s expression changed. One light sniff was all it took—she knew this soup was the undisputed champion of dark cuisine¹. Si Meng had possessed an extraordinary sense of smell since childhood; one whiff was enough to tell good from bad.

“Can I not…” She couldn’t bring herself to say “drink.”

            

“No! You must finish it.” Lin Hanyue showed no mercy, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Just then, Lin Hanyue received a call from her manager—it seemed to be about negotiating Si Meng’s situation. She turned back with a warning glance at Si Meng, then stepped out of the hospital room to take the call.

Seeing Lin Hanyue step out, Si Meng let out a huge sigh of relief. Wasting food was shameful, but food poisoning was far worse—ingredients could clash with each other in dangerous ways, and she had no intention of dying young and beautiful.

            

Si Meng quietly dumped the tonic soup, and didn’t forget to smear a bit of grease around her lips. By the time Lin Hanyue returned, only an empty thermos remained.

Si Meng beamed like a child seeking praise, presenting the empty thermos to Lin Hanyue for inspection. But who was Lin Hanyue? She knew exactly what little schemes were running through Si Meng’s mind.

Lin Hanyue rummaged through the trash can—nothing.

            

“See? I told you I drank it all. You don’t believe me?”

Lin Hanyue cursed inwardly: Like hell I believe you. She shifted her gaze to the half-dead lily plant. She remembered buying it on a whim last week when visiting Si Meng—how could it have wilted so quickly?

Lin Hanyue lifted the pot’s saucer. Yellow soup dregs—the unmistakable remains of the tonic soup she had brought.

            

Si Meng panicked and pulled the blanket over her head. Can’t see me, can’t see me.

Lin Hanyue wasn’t falling for it. She yanked the blanket away and pinned Si Meng beneath her—the whole sequence executed with practiced, thunderous efficiency. She had long since figured out that Si Meng yields to force, not persuasion². When she wouldn’t behave, a good thrashing was all it took.

Lin Hanyue’s left hand clamped both of Si Meng’s wrists, and she straddled Si Meng’s slim waist directly. Her right hand gave Si Meng’s chubby little cheek a squeeze. Those petite lips were red without any rouge, looking as springy as Wangzai jelly—one careless touch and they’d melt right into your heart. Lin Hanyue traced her thumb along Si Meng’s red lips, pondering how to punish this disobedient little thing.

            

Right at that moment, Lu Qi pushed the door open, her booming voice announcing: “Mengmeng, that lousy show crew came begging for you to come back, you—” She froze. “Oh my god, you two—waaah, I’m going to get styes on my eyes³!”

Afterward, Lu Qi was beside herself with frustration. She had known all along that Si Meng couldn’t escape Lin Hanyue’s grasp—it was like a sheep entering the wolf’s den. Had she so quickly forgotten how cruelly this woman had abused her?

Si Meng felt a bit sheepish. Just yesterday she had sworn to Lu Qi that she and Lin Hanyue would never have anything to do with each other again.

            

Lin Hanyue, on the other hand, looked perfectly composed, without the slightest hint of embarrassment at being caught.

“The show crew is asking Si Meng to come back. What do you two think?” Lu Qi asked.

“What’s there to think? It’s a Hongmen Banquet⁴.” Si Meng rested her chin on her hand.

            

“Bai Lu probably wants to turn the tables—minimize the damage and make the whole thing blow over,” Lin Hanyue reasoned.

“She can forget about that. Don’t worry, I have ways to deal with her.” Si Meng had already planned her countermove. Playing sick wasn’t a long-term solution.

That evening, Si Meng put on a face mask and the group headed to Xinghe Hotel for the banquet. The food at Xinghe Hotel was mediocre, but the prices were astronomical. The show crew had spared no expense this time, pulling out all the stops to court Si Meng and demonstrate their sincerity.

            

The moment Si Meng entered the private dining room, the Director hurried over to greet her, asking warmly about her condition. He guided Si Meng to the seat on his right—right next to Bai Lu. The Director’s face was plastered with smiles the entire time; he might as well have had the words “curry favor” written straight on his forehead.

Si Meng remained unfazed, betraying neither pleasure nor displeasure. She maintained a calm, measured demeanor, quietly sipping her tea, and remarked, “Fine Longjing tea. It’s just a pity my tea ceremony skills are poor—I’m wasting this top-grade green tea⁵.”

The Director missed the underlying meaning entirely, assuming Si Meng was simply interested in “green tea,” and ordered another pot.

            

Bai Lu’s expression soured. She understood perfectly well that Si Meng was taking veiled jabs at her, and she was furious inside, but she had to maintain a composed exterior—otherwise, all that effort on her exquisite makeup would go to waste.

“Si Meng-jiejie, I was thoughtless about what happened before. Let me substitute tea for wine, and let’s wipe the slate clean. Someone as kind as you, Jiejie, surely wouldn’t make things difficult for me and the show crew, right?” Bai Lu’s words were soft and honeyed, but every syllable carried a hidden needle, each one aimed to kill.

Si Meng sneered inwardly. Oh? She was putting on an act again?

            

Si Meng grew amused and smiled. “I naturally wouldn’t make things difficult for the show crew. Of course, that depends on your sincerity, Meimei⁶. The tea is gone—why don’t you show us your tea ceremony skills?”

Bai Lu maintained a smile on her face, but inside she was cursing Si Meng to death. The nerve—pushing her luck and demanding that she, Bai Lu, stoop to making tea for her?

Si Meng wasn’t in any hurry. She turned her gaze to the Director and said unhurriedly, “It seems Bai Lu-meimei has a problem with me.”

            

All eyes turned to the indifferent Bai Lu. The Director in particular was on the verge of treating her as a thorn in his side—Si Meng had already agreed to reconcile; whether Bai Lu would play ball was up to her, and if not, she could get the hell out of the show.

Unable to withstand the pressure, Bai Lu rose to find a server and get tea leaves. The moment Bai Lu stepped out, Si Meng tampered with the automatic tea maker, activating a lock-down mode—it could now only be operated manually. Otherwise…

Bai Lu found the tea leaves and sat back down. As if she’d ever make tea for someone by hand. For convenience, she started up the automatic tea-brewing mode, but the machine let out a series of shrill noises. Bai Lu scrambled in a panic—she had no idea how to use the thing. She’d clearly seen the server operate it just like this, but her frantic button-mashing sent the server rushing over in alarm.

            

“Do you know how much this machine costs?” the server blurted out, overlooking Bai Lu’s embarrassed expression.

The server tapped the machine a few times, but got no response at all. She was anxious—this was an imported product the boss had brought in from abroad just a few days ago. It couldn’t be broken, could it? It cost over a million!

“It’s just a tea maker. How much could it possibly be worth?” Bai Lu snapped. How expensive could a tea-brewing thing be?

            

“Several million,” the server said indignantly.

Suddenly, the machine’s spout twitched. Bai Lu’s face lit up—there, it was working. This awful server was trying to make her pay for damages. She’d definitely leave a terrible review.

Pfft—the spout sprayed water right into Bai Lu’s face. Caught completely off guard, everyone jumped in alarm or delight—everyone except Si Meng, who remained perfectly composed. Bai Lu shrieked and bolted for the restroom. Her makeup absolutely could not run!

            

The spout suddenly rotated 180 degrees, aiming to spray the entire table. Everyone scattered in panic, scrambling to their feet to flee. They were all cursing Bai Lu inwardly—this idiot didn’t know how to use the machine but pretended she did. Was she trying to get them all sprayed?

At the critical moment, Si Meng gently pressed the unlock button. She turned back with a slight smile and said to the server, “Don’t worry, the machine isn’t broken. It’s fine—Bai Lu just pressed the wrong switch, that’s all.”

Her thoughtful, gentle words instantly won the young server’s heart. Now this was a real idol—so warm and considerate. She was definitely going to be a mom fan⁷ for Si Meng.

            

Si Meng rose, her face painted with kind concern, and said softly, “Bai Lu-meimei has been gone so long. Let me go check on her.”

The others found themselves warming to Si Meng without realizing it. What a thoughtful girl—after everything Bai Lu had done to her, her first instinct was still to worry about the other’s safety.

Without realizing it, everyone had started comparing Bai Lu and Si Meng. One was caked in heavy makeup, the other a natural beauty; one was petty and calculating, the other considerate and kind. After a string of such comparisons, they liked Bai Lu even less. She was nothing but trouble—no wonder they said ugly people make the most drama⁸.

            

Meanwhile, Bai Lu’s assistant sensed trouble. That pig-brained Bai Lu was no match for Si Meng. She tried to get up to stop Si Meng, but Lu Qi clamped down on her shoulder and pressed a glass of white wine to her lips.

Lu Qi said with saccharine sarcasm, “Your artist didn’t substitute tea for wine, so as her assistant, you’ll just have to substitute wine for tea.”

“I… cough, cough, I don’t drink.”

            

“Bottoms up.” Lu Qi force-fed her three glasses. Once the alcohol settled in, the two of them opened up and started chatting freely—from astronomy to geography, they got along so well they were practically ready to become sworn sisters.

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