Ex-Girlfriend – Chapter 66

Amusing Ourselves to Death

Manager 03

Queen

If Ling Jiu had a physical form, she would definitely say to Shen Yun, “You’re so sl*tty.”

What kind of logic is this? She cheated herself, and now she dares to accuse others.

Ling Jiu: Is her brain just a collection of water, protein, inorganic matter, fat, and undigested food fiber?

The vulgar term would be sh*t, but an elegant AI cannot be so direct.

Ling Jiu has seen plenty of scumbags. Her first host was both dramatic and terrible, but at least she didn’t cheat. She only played around with ambiguous relationships, never giving clear answers, spinning between various men – that wasn’t good either, but compared to Shen Yun, she’s simply shameless.

In response to Shen Yun’s questioning, Xin Lan simply closed the door.

She had no desire to argue with someone whose brain was just a collection of matter, because such people were completely unreasonable. No point in arguing with an idiot.

She had accomplished what she needed to do, and now she just needed to follow the plan step by step.

This mission would take a long time; looking at the current timeline, it would take at least five years to reach the subsequent plot.

Five years – it sounds like such a long time. The original host was with Shen Yun for three years.

To think that Shen Yun pretended for eight years before striking mercilessly at the original host – it’s truly chilling.

Xin Lan brushed her long hair and tied it into a low ponytail with a hair tie.

Some people, never mind eight years, even eighty years wouldn’t be enough to warm their hearts. The human heart is strange that way – sometimes so soft, sometimes so hard.

Xin Lan knocked on the neighboring door, and Zhou Qinqin was stunned when she opened it to see Xin Lan.

“Sister Lan, why are you here?”

Zhou Qinqin opened the door wider, stepping aside to let Xin Lan enter.

As soon as Xin Lan entered, the other two assistants hurriedly greeted her.

“Shen Yun has finished filming. I came to check on her and make sure she’s prepared for the day after tomorrow’s announcement.”

“Oh, oh, then I’ll help book a room for you, and book tomorrow’s flight as well?”

Xin Lan nodded and sat on the sofa.

A Kun poured her a cup of hot water and placed it in front of Xin Lan.

To the three assistants, if Shen Yun was the empress, then Xin Lan was the empress dowager. The three were trembling nervously, like subordinates being inspected by their superior, not daring to mess around.

Xin Lan lifted the paper cup and took a sip of hot water, then placed it on the table.

As the water in the cup rippled, the three assistants’ hearts trembled with it.

“How long have each of you been working for Shen Yun?”

Zhou Qinqin: “Three years.”

Miaomiao: “Two years.”

A Kun: “A year and a half.”

When Shen Yun first started, she wasn’t popular and only had one assistant. Later, as one assistant couldn’t handle everything, she hired more.

Zhou Qinqin, Miaomiao, and A Kun weren’t Shen Yun’s only original assistants; they were the ones who remained after a gradual selection process.

They were all hired by the original host, who trusted them, but now the situation was different. Xin Lan couldn’t be sure whose side these three were on.

“After following her for so long, what do you think of her?”

Miaomiao: “Sister Yun is great!”

Zhou Qinqin: “She’s wonderful!”

A Kun: “She’s excellent!”

“Oh?”

Xin Lan raised an eyebrow, scanning each person.

“I’m pleased you maintain such a professional attitude, but I hope you remember who pays your salaries.”

Zhou Qinqin understood: “It’s you, Sister Lan.”

The other two nodded in agreement.

“Alright, I won’t say more. Go book me a room.”

Some things only need to be hinted at – nobody’s stupid.

“Okay.”

Zhou Qinqin left, leaving Miaomiao and A Kun sitting there like frightened quails [鹌鹑 | ānchún | reference to being scared silent].

In the next room, Shen Yun’s expression was gloomy.

After Xin Lan left, her tears had stopped flowing.

She paced anxiously around the room, wanting to smash everything within reach, but what little rationality she had left prevented her from such an out-of-control act.

Xin Lan must have fallen for someone else, that’s why she broke up so decisively – but who was it?

She clenched her fists, thinking she better not find out which b*tch was trying to climb up the ladder. Xin Lan was hers, and those resources could only be hers.

She tried to suppress her panic. It didn’t matter that Xin Lan said they were breaking up – she could still win her back. They’d been together so long; Xin Lan couldn’t be that heartless.

Besides, even if there was no future between them, Xin Lan wouldn’t let personal grudges affect business, right? After all, they were in the same boat.

Shen Yun sank into the sofa and unlocked her phone.

Xin Lan sat on the sofa waiting for Zhou Qinqin to return. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, with the two quails across from her pretending to be mute, not saying a word.

It was understandable for petite Miaomiao to shrink into herself, but it was quite amusing to see someone as big as A Kun trying to make himself small.

Her phone vibrated. Xin Lan lowered her head to look at it, giving the two across from her some relief from the pressure.

On WeChat, Shen Yun kept sending apologetic messages. Xin Lan simply set it to Do Not Disturb, letting Shen Yun continue her dramatic performance.

When the original host was targeted after the breakup, she wasn’t completely helpless. Shen Yun had left too much evidence of their relationship – screenshots could have turned public opinion slightly in her favor.

But someone seemed to be pulling strings behind Shen Yun, whether targeting the original host or helping Shen Yun. The original host’s account was banned, and when she registered alternate accounts to post, those posts sank like stones in the sea, unable to create any waves.

Until finally, understanding there was truly no way out, she died with hatred in her heart.

Xin Lan: Save these screenshots and archive them for future use.

Ling Jiu: OK.

In this technological dimension, the system’s capabilities came into play.

Each system could store files and audio independently, not saving them on any real-world electronic devices, ready to be copied whenever the host needed them.

This effectively avoided certain risks, like storing sensitive material on real-world devices where others might see them.

The minute-long video Xin Lan had recorded earlier was stored with Ling Jiu, ready to expose Shen Yun whenever she wanted.

Despite Xin Lan not responding, Shen Yun persistently kept sending messages.

Xin Lan glanced at them – just more apologies.

While Xin Lan didn’t read them, Ling Jiu, connected to her communications, saw everything clearly and was internally ranting.

There were too many stupid b*tches like this, typical scumbags.

Shen Yun was quite the message spammer – before Xin Lan noticed, she’d already sent 99 messages.

Xin Lan opened the chat, sent one message, then closed it.

Ling Jiu saw it clearly but didn’t understand the meaning, completely confused.

Ling Jiu: Host, what does “zhong xiao ren yi li yi lian” mean?

Xin Lan: “Zhong xiao ren yi, li yi lian chi” [忠孝仁義，禮義廉恥 | zhōng xiào rén yì, lǐ yì lián chǐ | the eight virtues of traditional Chinese culture; 忠 (zhōng) – Loyalty, 孝 (xiào) – Filial piety, 仁 (rén) – Benevolence, 義 (yì) – Righteousness, 禮 (lǐ) – Propriety/Etiquette, 義 (yì) – Justice/Integrity, 廉 (lián) – Honesty/Incorruptibility, and 恥 (chǐ) – Sense of shame/Honor].

Ling Jiu was confused for a moment before suddenly understanding.

Xin Lan felt this way of insulting someone was too subtle, but she disliked using vulgar words, which could easily leave traces on social media. She preferred confronting people face-to-face, but now wasn’t the right time.

If Shen Yun’s mind took another bizarre turn and thought the criticism meant she still cared, that would be bad. That kind of self-absorbed delusion was disgusting. Better to just send this one message to let her know where things stood, then ignore her.

Shen Yun was confused by Xin Lan’s reply at first, but after searching Baidu for the phrase’s meaning, she realized Xin Lan was subtly mocking her.

The mockery was so light that if she made a big deal of it, it would be hard to handle appropriately. Shen Yun frowned and simply continued apologizing.

By now, Xin Lan was lying in her room with the key card. She took off her clothes and went to shower – the original host had rushed to catch a flight right after work, then hurried over immediately after landing, without any rest along the way.

Xin Lan didn’t care about Shen Yun’s constant messages. Ling Jiu, who saw them, wanted to fight with this pretentious white lotus, but since that wasn’t possible, she simply went to read complaint posts on the forum to avoid getting annoyed.

After her shower, Xin Lan sat on the bed with her iPad, researching Shen Yun’s love interest from the original plot.

She only knew the name, and in the original host’s memory, there had been no interaction with this person except knowing they were a child star.

Although she hadn’t met the person yet and couldn’t get detailed information from Ling Jiu, she could still search Baidu for photos and basic information.

For celebrities, privacy often doesn’t exist – you can find details like height and weight online with a simple search, though they might not all be accurate.

Qin Yuyan, female, 24 years old, blood type…

Xin Lan raised an eyebrow at the name, wondering if it was coincidence that all the female characters she’d encountered across these worlds had ‘yan’ in their names.

But it seemed unlikely they were connected, as none of them behaved similarly.

Perhaps it was just coincidence. Xin Lan continued reading without dwelling on it.

The young woman was quite pretty, considered a second-generation star.

Her whole family was in the arts, with parents who were veteran actors. She debuted as a child star and had a smooth career path.

This was probably the most envied background in the industry – no need to fight desperately for resources, as she’d had them since childhood. She was beautiful, level-headed, focused on her studies, occasionally appearing on variety shows or in drama cameos.

Currently, her fame seemed modest, with many people not knowing her, but those in the know understood that if she chose to seriously pursue entertainment rather than treat it as a hobby, her name would eventually become synonymous with success.

Xin Lan recalled how the original host had considered signing her, but being on good terms with Shen Yun then and already managing one person, she lacked the energy to pursue another talent.

Actually acquiring her might not have been possible anyway, given her background and conditions. She was young, had a special charm, and hadn’t been molded by the industry into a fixed pattern – she could easily be managed by a top agent alone.

Xin Lan put down her iPad and messaged her friends, planning to test the waters first.

Unlike the original host who didn’t plan to sign Qin Yuyan, she was determined to sign her. But before that, she needed to make all the necessary preparations.

It would all depend on whether Qin Yuyan would choose her or not.

---

LP: Re-translated on February 05, 2025

---

---