Chapter 95: The Shame of Not Knowing

Although she did not disturb Zhu Xueshuang and Liu Yujia during their important filming, when she ran into them on her way home, Chu Luoxi still mentioned Wang Yanan’s latest antics, just as a precautionary warning.

Finally, Chu Luoxi emphasized that this was a conflict between herself and Wang Yanan, urging the two not to get involved. The outcome was still uncertain, and she didn’t want them dragged into it. A crisis of reputation was troublesome and serious.

The two were shocked, furious, and annoyed for a while, but they ultimately agreed to Chu Luoxi’s request, promising to keep a close eye on the situation without taking action for now.

After a restless night, Chu Luoxi got up early and, before returning to her dormitory, received information from Ye Xin.

Having vented her anger, Chu Luoxi was much calmer; meanwhile, Zhu Xueshuang and Liu Yujia, who had not yet left, glanced at the documents and were left stupefied and outraged.

“How can someone be so shameless?” Zhu Xueshuang, usually composed, was visibly shaken, her eyes wide. It was not the first time the woman’s actions had shattered her expectations, and she was learning more about the darkness of human nature.

“It’s not as if you’re just finding out now. Why be surprised?” Liu Yujia was exhausted, resigned to the fact that there was no limit to shamelessness.

Chu Luoxi furrowed her brows as she carefully read through the information. It matched her suspicions from the previous day, though clearly her imagination hadn’t reached Wang Yanan’s level of audacity.

Here, she had to commend Ye Xin’s efficiency. Some matters, which others would keep strictly behind closed doors, he had managed to investigate thoroughly. It was almost uncanny, bordering on unbelievable for an ordinary person.

This, however, made it much easier for Chu Luoxi to analyze the situation.

The entertainment companies that had shown up were a mixed bag; the representatives they sent varied wildly in quality as well. Some companies joined the fray for the sake of gossip and reputation, but didn’t truly care. Nowadays, entertainment companies hardly lack resources—talent shows, trainees, and a flood of graduates from arts schools have saturated the market. And there are always hordes of “drifters” from all over; there’s never a shortage of people.

So there were plenty interested in Chu Luoxi, but none of the major players or truly influential companies had appeared.

This was a huge relief for Chu Luoxi. She had expected as much: those who genuinely cared, or big companies, would have no trouble finding her directly. Those who had shown up were either opportunists or simply unremarkable, which eased her burden considerably.

Facing these people, whose own hands were rarely clean and whose motives were often dubious, she wasn’t afraid to offend. Besides, these lesser entertainment companies, even if they banded together to blacklist her, would cause disruption, but not irreparable harm.

Not to mention that Chu Luoxi, being reborn, knew the industry inside and out, and had standards far above the norm. She had no intention of dealing with companies she didn’t respect, and she was well-prepared to handle them. Ye Xin’s dossier was also extraordinarily detailed—she’d never been so satisfied with an investigation. Each company was thoroughly introduced, and the personal profiles of their representatives were exceptionally comprehensive.

Tsk tsk, looking at the investigation report, Chu Luoxi suspected Ye Xin was subtly suggesting she strike where it hurt, ruthlessly exploiting human weaknesses. Otherwise, why include such a long list of taboos, hobbies, and so on for each person? The most conspicuous parts were all highlighted…

Ahem, after countless transactions in her previous life, this was the first time Chu Luoxi felt Ye Xin could be so considerate. He could easily switch careers and become a strategist.

“Oh my god, how is this possible?” Zhu Xueshuang exclaimed in disbelief as she read further. Every time she thought Wang Yanan couldn’t sink any lower, new revelations would stun her again—there truly was no bottom.

Chu Luoxi glanced over; apparently, Wang Yanan had used their four-person dorm as a venue for shady dealings with people who had ulterior motives, allowing herself to be taken advantage of while feeling smug about it.

“There’s nothing impossible about it. The entertainment industry is rife with unspoken rules. Now that she’s no longer playing mistress, why wouldn’t she use her own body as capital? She’s desperate, with nowhere else to turn…” Chu Luoxi muttered, recalling some of the horrors she’d witnessed in her previous life, filled with a thousand emotions.

Some scandals spread far and wide, and there are always rotten apples doing all sorts of things under various pretexts. Yet, most of the time, both parties are willing; it’s hard to say who’s right or wrong. She once witnessed a young director’s “good deeds”—he never refused, and there were plenty who volunteered to climb into his bed.

“She’s just jealous, all the rest are excuses. With a dorm like that, do you even want to go back?” Liu Yujia turned her face away in disgust, truly unable to respect such women, who tarnished the reputation of all women.

Chu Luoxi, equally disdainful, replied, “That’s no longer our dormitory, it’s basically her private suite. I wouldn’t dare take anything from inside, but I must go back this time—can’t let her get away with everything.”

With the three absent from the dorm, who knew who had rifled through their belongings? The thought was revolting.

In the end, Chu Luoxi chose a day when returning students were coming back to campus to return to the dorm and handle her registration. Ye Xin had also given her a precise tip: someone would appear at a certain time, so she waited.

Amusingly, the day before, Wang Yanan had called all three of them, asking when they’d return for registration. After some quick discussion, the three made excuses to delay.

Wang Yanan didn’t know the three were living together; she called each separately, repeating the same question three times. No matter how one looked at it, it was suspicious—since when was Wang Yanan so patient with them? Too eager to please, surely up to no good.

Checking the time, Chu Luoxi went to her homeroom teacher, Tang Ming, to handle the registration and pay her tuition. She received some encouragement and inquiries, especially regarding Zhu Xueshuang and Liu Yujia, since Chu Luoxi was handling their paperwork. Tang Ming asked for details.

He’d heard about the situation—Zhu and Liu’s opportunity had come through Chu Luoxi. Seeing his students succeed and maintain good relationships was something he, as a teacher, was glad to see, so he was attentive.

“Luoxi, if you have more opportunities in the future, do look out for your classmates. Our class has plenty of capable students,” Tang Ming remarked casually, a hint of expectation.

“Pfft, Teacher Tang, you’re thinking too far ahead. If I get the chance I won’t forget, but you see now, I’m in trouble myself, barely keeping afloat!” Chu Luoxi knew Tang Ming was merely being polite, but she played along, giving her homeroom teacher a heads-up lest things become awkward later.

It was, in essence, an internal conflict. Chu Luoxi had no intention of going easy. Neither the school nor the teachers wanted to see such things, and by giving advance notice, she ensured everyone was prepared, sparing herself from a bad reputation. Most importantly, she hoped the teachers wouldn’t intervene and inadvertently save the wrong person.