Chapter Four: Would You Believe Me If I Said My Hand Slipped? (Part One)

At the dinner table, the lively chatter bounced back and forth among the family.

“Uncle, uncle!” Suddenly, little Bao, only three years old, pointed at the television and called out. It turned out that Chu Muyun had appeared on the New Year’s Gala, and the whole family turned their attention to the show.

Bai Chenxi had to admit, although she found the man rather annoying, his singing was truly captivating, and his good looks certainly added to his appeal.

After dinner, Grandma enthusiastically insisted that Bai Chenxi join the family in a group photo. When it was time to leave, Grandma was reluctant to let her go, and only after Bai Chenxi repeatedly promised to visit often did she finally let her leave. Back at her own home, Bai Chenxi found herself unaccustomed to the sudden quiet after just one meal at Grandma’s noisy house.

Feeling thoughtful, Bai Chenxi took out her phone, snapped a selfie, and posted it on Weibo.

Bai Chenxi V: Spending New Year’s Eve with all of you.

She continued to browse Weibo, and before long, her comment section was bustling with activity. Reading all the compliments about her looks, Bai Chenxi felt her spirits lift. Whenever she read the comments from her fans, she was reminded that she was never truly alone—there were always these adorable fans supporting her from behind the scenes.

Of course, a few trolls were inevitable, but Bai Chenxi simply ignored them. Her preferred way of dealing with them was to stay visible and active, just to irritate them further. In her words: “I love how they can’t stand me, can’t get rid of me, and can only jump up and down on Weibo.”

As she scrolled on, she suddenly thought of Chu Muyun and decided to check his Weibo, curious to see what the notoriously cold and stoic man would post.

Chu Muyun’s Weibo was a curiosity in itself. While most celebrities enjoyed interacting with fans online, his most recent post was from Christmas, consisting of only a single sentence: Merry Christmas. Bai Chenxi couldn’t help but complain in her mind: Not even a selfie? Minus points!

Opening the comments, she saw messages like: “Idol, you finally updated! Merry Christmas!” A few stood out: “Idol, did you come to weed on Christmas?” complete with a surprised emoji, which had been upvoted to the top.

Scrolling further back, it was all work updates and reposts, devoid of any warmth. Yet his fans still celebrated even his advertisements, filling the comments with jokes. Bai Chenxi found it baffling—how could such a dull person have such adorable fans?

Bored, she kept flicking through Chu Muyun’s Weibo until a new post popped up.

Chu Muyun V: New Year’s Eve with my family. Happy New Year, everyone.

Attached was a family photo, but everyone except him was mosaicked out. Clearly, he was very protective of his family’s privacy.

Bai Chenxi tapped the comments. Some fans were saying, “We only see your original posts—and your face—during holidays.” Others cheered, “He posted a photo! What a treat!” Bai Chenxi muttered as she scrolled, “That’s just because he has a grandmother who loves taking pictures.”

She was about to exit when—wait, was it her imagination? Something… looked red? Bai Chenxi shook her head and tapped back into Chu Muyun’s Weibo. The newest post had a glaring red like notification reminding her what had just happened.

Bai Chenxi stared at the like in disbelief. Oh heavens, are you messing with me? That man can’t stand to have me anywhere near him, and now I’ve liked his Weibo post? He’ll definitely think I’m trying to use him for publicity.

She couldn’t help but smack her own hand. What on earth are you doing? But she couldn’t undo it now, or it would look even more suspicious. After thinking for a long time, Bai Chenxi decided to clear things up with him; otherwise, she’d surely be on Chu Muyun’s blacklist by tomorrow. After all, he was Grandma’s grandson—she didn’t want to make things awkward.

If she explained properly, surely it would be fine. With this in mind, Bai Chenxi went next door and knocked.

Chu Muyun opened the door, and at the sight of Bai Chenxi, his brows immediately furrowed. Grandma, seeing Bai Chenxi, quickly invited her in.

“Grandma, no, thank you. I’m actually here to speak to Chu Muyun about something,” Bai Chenxi said.

Hearing this, Grandma’s eyes sparkled. “Oh? Then you two can talk outside.”

Chu Muyun cut her off, leaning against the doorway as he addressed Bai Chenxi, “Whatever you have to say, just say it here.”

How could she talk about this here? Without thinking, Bai Chenxi grabbed Chu Muyun and pulled him outside, closing the door behind them in one swift motion. Chu Muyun seemed incredulous that he’d been dragged out, staring at Bai Chenxi as if to say, How could a woman be so brash?

Then came his cold voice: “Miss Bai, please show some restraint.” Bai Chenxi looked up, following his gaze, and realized she was still clutching his arm. Startled, she released him at once and apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just…”

Chu Muyun cut her off impatiently, “Miss Bai, what is it you want? Make it quick.”

Seeing his expression, Bai Chenxi thought, This is bad! I came to explain, but now he’ll never believe me.

Before he could lose patience again, she began to explain, “I, um, just…”

She stammered for a long time, failing to get to the point.

“Miss Bai, if you want to waste your time, that’s your business. I don’t have to stand here and keep you company.”

With that, Chu Muyun turned to leave. Bai Chenxi panicked. “I accidentally liked your Weibo just now. I just wanted to explain—I really didn’t do it on purpose. I don’t want any misunderstandings over this.”

She said it all in one breath, watching his expression. He still wore that frosty look.

Chu Muyun looked at her. “Not on purpose? Are you telling me your hand slipped?”

Bai Chenxi nodded vigorously. Chu Muyun sneered, “Hand slipped? Couldn’t you come up with a better excuse?”

“I really did slip. I’m not lying.” Now even “hand slip” had become a running joke, but she genuinely meant it.

Chu Muyun clearly didn’t believe her and walked away. Watching the door close, Bai Chenxi grumbled, “Fine! Believe it or not, who do you think you are? Do you really think I need to explain myself to you? Hmph!” She slammed her own door shut as well.

Back in her apartment, the more Bai Chenxi thought about it, the more frustrated she became. She opened Weibo and began liking posts left and right, regardless of whether she knew the person or not. Since it was New Year’s Eve, most celebrities had posted, and she liked any post with New Year’s greetings.

After a spree of random likes, Bai Chenxi’s anger gradually faded, and she went to bed.

The next morning, she was woken by Sister Wang’s relentless barrage of calls. Bai Chenxi, still half-asleep, answered the phone, only to be scolded immediately: “Bai Chenxi, I let you have a vacation and you can’t even behave yourself? If you think you’re not busy enough, I’ll arrange more work for you—enough to keep you on your toes all day!”

Holding the phone away from her ear until the tirade subsided, Bai Chenxi replied, “Sister Wang, what’s wrong now? I was well-behaved at home all night!”

On the other end, Sister Wang snorted, “Oh, you were well-behaved, but your hands weren’t! Had nothing better to do than liking everyone’s posts.”

Bai Chenxi thought she was referring to her like on Chu Muyun’s post and quickly explained, “Sister Wang, it was really a misunderstanding. My hand slipped. I was with Chu—”

Before she could finish, Sister Wang interrupted, “Hand slipped? You accidentally liked that many posts? How many times did your hand slip?”

Now it was Bai Chenxi’s turn to be lost for words. After a moment, she recalled, maybe, probably, perhaps, she’d been so angry last night that she’d gone on a liking spree on Weibo. Remembering this, she fell silent.

“So, you remember now?”

She responded with two awkward laughs.

“Bai Chenxi, remember your image. You’re the classical goddess—be elegant, understand? Do you even know how to spell ‘elegant’?”

Bai Chenxi rolled her eyes helplessly. Is this really my agent?

“Um, Sister Wang, is this a big problem?” After hesitating for a long time, she finally asked.

“It’s not too serious.” Bai Chenxi let out a sigh of relief. Sister Wang continued, “Your public image is usually quite positive, and netizens think you were just letting loose for the holiday. Nothing’s heading in a bad direction. The only issue is their imaginations are running wild—see for yourself online.”

Bai Chenxi was about to ask more when Sister Wang added, “Chenxi, remember to always be cautious with your words and actions. The internet can make you a star, but it can destroy you overnight. People might say you’re stirring up hype on purpose—success always attracts criticism. You’re still new in the industry; it’s vital to establish yourself with good work. The popularity of one drama is fleeting—without strong follow-ups, the entertainment industry will quickly forget you. We’re aiming for you to be known for your skills, not just your looks. Don’t let appearances blind you.”

Bai Chenxi replied seriously, “I understand, Sister Wang. I’ll strive to be someone who could rely on looks, but chooses to rely on talent.”

Sister Wang seemed amused, her tone softening, “Chenxi, and about you and Lin Yue…”

Bai Chenxi sighed helplessly. Here we go again—another round of: “I don’t mind you dating, but your focus needs to be on your career,” and so on.

Whenever Bai Chenxi tried to explain that there was nothing between her and Lin Yue, she’d always get an eye roll in response—an expression that said, “Argue all you want, I’m not buying it.” In the end, Bai Chenxi could only repeatedly assure her that she’d work hard to repay her manager’s tireless efforts.

After hanging up, Bai Chenxi opened Weibo, eager to see just how far the netizens’ imaginations had run from the truth.