Xiang Wan’s grievance wasn’t obvious, even calm, but Yu Zhou felt a little heartache for her.
A minute later, she came to her senses. After all, it wasn’t her fault that Xiang Wan had traveled through time. She had been good to her, not charging her for food or lodging, even providing for her financially.
True, Su Chang was a favored daughter of heaven, and Xiang Wan was a treasured pearl in the palm of someone’s hand. Was Yu Zhou simply a star intended to embellish those moons or the box containing the pearls?
But then again, who wasn’t a beloved child of their parents?
“But now that you’ve traveled here,” Yu Zhou’s hand rested on the dining table, “it’s not my fault, it’s your fate.”
“You are lucky enough to have me take you in. I don’t ask for your gratitude, but you can’t take advantage of me.”
If pretending to be pitiful worked, she could cling to God’s thigh and cry every day.
Yu Zhou saw the words “That makes sense” in Xiang Wan’s eyes. Xiang Wan took a deep breath before lowering her head to drink her porridge.
When under someone’s roof, one had to bow their head. It seemed she had figured it out.
While waiting for Xiang Wan to eat, Yu Zhou habitually scrolled through Weibo. Su Chang’s late-night posts hadn’t been deleted, so they were still the top two on her feed. Yu Zhou thought about the forum F had told her about and decided to check if there was any news.
There was, but it wasn’t about Su Chang’s late-night Weibo posts – it was about Yu Zhou herself.
The post title read: “The ‘Shrine’ – This is almost a certainty, right? Su Chang x Peng Xiangzhi.”
Upon clicking in, it turned out Peng Xiangzhi had followed her Weibo.
When did this happen? Why hadn’t anyone given her a heads-up?
Yu Zhou opened her followers list, scrolled through about twenty new followers, and finally saw Peng Xiangzhi. It seemed she had followed her for a while, perhaps since last night?
She then checked her private messages to confirm; sure enough, there was no warning at all.
What was going on? Was it normal for a celebrity to follow her now? Was she going to become famous soon?
Ahahahaha,Yu Zhou couldn’t help but laugh at herself.
She followed Peng Xiangzhi back before going back to reading the forum posts, where the netizens were quite insightful. They speculated that Su Chang’s follow might indicate a private friendship, but Peng Xiangzhi’s follow meant they were definitely collaborating.
And lately, with the news of copyright sales, the only work sold from Yu Zhou’s novels was “Shrine”. Though it had only fetched 700 collections, her other works were even more unknown.
“Ah, I’m sorry, so sorry.” Yu Zhou said, blushing.
The focus of the online community shifted away from Yu Zhou as they started guessing who would be the top or bottom in the collaboration between Su Chang and Peng Xiangzhi. Yu Zhou couldn’t help but think that behind all these IDs, there were some enthusiastic shippers stirring up trouble.
None of them seemed to care about the actual roles of the characters, only top and bottom.
As the discussion was nearing its end, someone finally asked, “What are the character settings in this story? Can someone who knows please share?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t read it,” another person replied.
Why couldn’t they just take a look to see for themselves? Yu Zhou pursed her lips, feeling frustrated.
She refreshed the page again, seeing someone say what she wanted to say, “Both Su Chang and Peng Xiangzhi agreed to join the project, the novel must be quite good.”
But only this one, after that they started a discussion about how many underrated novels had great storylines and that production companies should not focus only on popular IPs. The day will come when the big IPs are sold out, but what’s important is the development of the IPs.
The depth of the conversation rendered Yu Zhou quite confused.
Feeling the anticipation of the netizens, Yu Zhou was invigorated and decided to set up a Weibo account for Xiang Wan.
Though there wasn’t really a connection between the two, she was just motivated to take action.
“Wanwan, should your Weibo name be ‘Xiang Wan’ or ‘Xiang Wanwan’?” she asked.
“What’s the difference?”
“Well, it depends on the persona you want to embody in the voice acting industry. If you’re going for a cool, professional vibe, then go with ‘Xiang Wan’. If that’s taken, then ‘Xiang Wan_’ or ‘_Xiang Wan.’ If you prefer a cute and friendly vibe, go with ‘Xiang Wanwan’, so people will want to pat your head.”
Xiang Wan looked at her as if she had gone mad.
“It’s a big deal, you know? Your profile picture and everything must match your persona. Like, you see that person…” Yu Zhou wanted to mention Su Chang fits really nicely with the pure blue profile picture, but she hesitated and didn’t say it out loud.
“Also, you need to maintain your internet persona. You can’t call yourself ‘Xiang Wanwan’ but only post once in a blue moon – people will lose interest. Also you can’t call yourself the aloof ‘Xiang Wan’ but be constantly chatty online. Understand?”
“I’ll go with Xiang Wan.” Xiang Wan decided.
“Oh, you have aspirations of being cool and aloof,” Yu Zhou laughed as she typed in the nickname. “If you ever act bad and clingy towards me again, I’ll record it and leak it. Your whole persona will tumble down.”
She looked quite pleased with her cunning plan.
But Xiang Wan asked, “What do you mean by ‘tumble down’?”
“Eyewitnessed him building a high-rise, eyewitnessed him entertaining guests, and eyewitnessed – the building collapsed.” Yu Zhou swayed her head while singing a verse from the play “The Peach Blossom Fan.” [1] She then explained, “It means that if people’s imagined version of you doesn’t match your real self, they won’t like you anymore.”
Xiang Wan contemplated for a moment before shaking her head, “No need to imagine. I will be sincere in my interactions. If others know the real me, they might like me even more.”
“Oh, confidence is a good thing.” Yu Zhou said with a slight movement of her lips.
“I’ll sign you up for TikTok too so that we can establish a presence on every platform. On TikTok, you can join in those popular collaboration videos. You know, where voice actors share their work, leaving an empty scene for others to join. You can join in to see where you stand, identify the professional differences between you and them, and, perhaps…” Perhaps we could also ride on someone else’s popularity.
But she was too embarrassed to say, scratching her nose and continued, “On Weibo, though, consider posting a little less.”
Yu Zhou studied Xiang Wan’s face seriously, marveling at her beauty.
It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.
So, she suggested, “I will provide you with the steps to achieve success out of nowhere. Let me take a photo of you on the balcony, and then we’ll share it as a greeting.”
Xiang Wan, unfamiliar with taking photos, was a bit shy. Following Yu Zhou’s instructions, she changed into a simple white T-shirt, tied her hair in a ponytail, and washed her face. Her skin was good enough, so she only needs to brighten her complexion when in front of the camera. Therefore, Yu Zhou just applied cushion foundation and lip glaze for her.
Lightly made-up Xiang Wan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window with the faintly visible summer sunshine outside. She looked intently at Yu Zhou, with a clear and helpless gaze.
“Don’t look at me. Look at the lens,” Yu Zhou said a bit uncomfortably, pointing at the dark camera lens.
Xiang Wan focused her gaze on the small black dot. But on the screen, it seemed like she was staring at the person behind the camera.
Yu Zhou felt strangely moved as she looked at Xiang Wan on the screen. It seemed almost surreal that she had captured the image of a figure who had appeared from centuries past, vibrant and alive amidst the play of light and shadows in the summertime scene, making her feel a little upset.
For a brief moment, she wondered what would have become of Xiang Wan if they had never met. Would her ancient body be buried in a tomb, perhaps already excavated and her tattered clothes displayed in a museum? Or would she remain deep underground, and Yu Zhou galloped over her bones by high-speed train while looking at the beautiful scenery from the window?
Ah, such are the vivid imaginings and the rich emotions of a writer.
Yu Zhou became a little disheartened, no longer eager to take photos. After a few snaps, she focused her attention on selecting the best image to share.
The later images seemed too stiff, perfect but not alive. It was the very first shot that captured the essence of the moment, Xiang Wan staring at the camera with an air of charming bewilderment. Best one.
Even the blurred image of Xiang Wan’s hand shielding the lens had an artistic quality.
Yes, this one will do.
she decided, posting it to Weibo without any filter or caption.
Xiang Wan’s first Weibo post marked her presence in the world, a little whisper announcing her existence.
Yu Zhou signed in to her account to follow Xiang Wan before instantly reposting the post, writing, “Wanwan has arrived! [win some milk.jpg]”
A fan commented, asking who Xiang Wan was before praising her beauty with much exaggeration. “Is such a beautiful sis even real?”
Yu Zhou laughed, replying, “A friend who’s interested in voice acting and learning now. She’s new to Weibo, so please show some support~”
She continued responding to comments before noticing Xiang Wan’s post was close to 100 comments.
Was this the power of Yu Zhou’s influence as a well-known account, or was Xiang Wan’s alluring beauty shining through?
Neither, as she followed the comment trail, it turned out that Peng Xiangzhi had liked the post.