During the Cold War with my sugar daddy, I accidentally slapped his childhood sweetheart. Overnight, my reputation was dragged through the mud. Meanwhile, my sugar daddy remained as silent as a corpse. In a fit of rage, I started a livestream and roasted him until he was trending. "Julian Blackwood? Yeah, we dated. He was mid." "Of course I dumped him first." "Oh, nothing major. Just... he's old, bad in bed. I'm thinking of dating a college boy next." ... The internet said I was crazy for daring to roast Julian Blackwood. Not long after I ended the stream, my front door was literally removed from its hinges. Julian, looking dark and dangerous, loosened his tie as he backed me into a corner. "Tell me more about this college boy you're planning to date." 1 I am known as the delicate "Little White Flower" of the entertainment industry. Pure looks, sweet voice, kind heart, always helping others. I painstakingly curated this persona for three years. It collapsed in a single night. 2 I was filming a fantasy drama recently. In the dead of winter, I had to fly around on wires in flimsy silk dresses and film multiple underwater scenes. Work was already annoying enough. Then someone came looking for trouble. I was in the makeup chair when I saw the director bowing and scraping to a girl with exquisite makeup. He not only gave her a tour but also moved his director's chair for her to sit behind the monitors. Crew members whispered that she was an investor named Sierra. I didn't think much of it. Until filming started, and I got NG'd (No Good) a million times. If I was actually messing up, I would have redone it a hundred times without complaint. But clearly, I wasn't. Someone just wanted to watch me freeze in thin clothes, dangling from wires in the snow. I did that scene twenty-three times. Finally, they swapped in a stunt double, and it was perfect on the first take. The director looked embarrassed and told me to rest. My assistant wrapped me in a down jacket and walked me to the trailer. As we passed the monitors, Sierra leaned back in the chair, looking me up and down with disdain. "The bar for entry in this industry is really ground level. Anyone can be an actor." I was shivering too hard to retort. Mainly because I didn't know who she was or what power she held, so I couldn't afford to offend her blindly. Back in the trailer, once I warmed up, I sent my assistant to dig up dirt on Sierra. Before I got an answer, I had an underwater scene. Unsurprisingly, same routine. No matter how I acted, it was NG. Even when I saw the director's eyes light up with satisfaction, Sierra would reject it, claiming the "emotion wasn't right." This scene required close-ups, so no stunt double. The director didn't dare speak up, so I was dunked in the water over and over. Eventually, I was dizzy from the cold. Even a pushover has a breaking point. I refused to go back in the water and confronted Sierra. The director, reading the room, cleared the set. I started polite. "Ms. Sierra, have I offended you in some way?" Sierra maintained her haughty posture, scoffing. "You? You're not qualified to offend me." I smiled. "In that case, why make things difficult? It's fine if I suffer a bit, but delaying the shoot wastes everyone's time and burns your money." Sierra looked me over again, her eyes full of scorn. "Elena Lin, you sure have a sharp tongue." "Don't pin this on me. I'm not making things difficult. Your acting is just trash, so everyone has to suffer through your retakes." Seeing my silence, her mockery deepened. "There's a wall between real talent and resource babies. Especially someone like you..." She paused deliberately, then smirked. "Who knows how many beds you climbed to get here?" I hate slut-shaming. Even a saint would snap! I didn't care who she was anymore. If I endured this any longer, I'd end up in the hospital. I slapped her. Hard. Sierra's face snapped to the side, a red handprint blooming on her pale skin. She looked at me in disbelief. "Elena, you dare hit me?!" "So what if I hit you? Since your mother didn't teach you manners, I don't mind stepping in." Wrapped in my jacket, I looked at her coldly. "I have no beef with you. If you insult me again and treat everyone's work like a game, I'll hit you again." Four degrees Celsius, dunking me in water repeatedly, insulting me—did she expect me not to fight back? I turned to leave. Sierra tried to grab me, but I shook her off. We were near the pool set, the ground covered in loose gravel. Sierra tripped and fell gracefully into the water. Me: ... Chaos erupted. Filming was canceled. As Sierra was carted away by an ambulance, my assistant returned with the intel. I finally understood her malice. Sierra was Julian Blackwood's childhood sweetheart, recently returned from abroad. And Julian Blackwood was my sugar daddy. 3 In three years with Julian, I had never heard of a "white moonlight" or childhood sweetheart. I was confused. I called him. Off. I called his assistant. No answer. I opened WeChat. Our chat history stopped two days ago. I remembered then—we had a fight before I left for the shoot. I had just finished a roadshow and had a rare few days off. Julian suddenly asked about my schedule for next April, wanting me to clear it for a trip to Northern Europe. But I had already booked an arthouse film for April. It was a huge production, vital for my career. Julian wanted me to drop it. I refused. He looked at me, eyes dark. "Elena, is your schedule always going to be more important than me?" "I can't even book a slot four months in advance now?" "Do I need to take a number to see you in the future?" He sounded resentful. I was exhausted from working non-stop for a month. I cleared two days just to see him, and he was being passive-aggressive. My temper flared. "Julian, you said you wouldn't interfere with my work." "I told you, I will never give up my career." The conversation ended unhappily. Julian took a call and left in a hurry. Then I went to the set. Looking back, I regretted it. I should have explained better. I was patient with everyone else, but for some reason, I was always willful with Julian. As my career took off, I had less time, and we argued more about the distance. But usually, Julian wouldn't let a misunderstanding last overnight. He always accommodated my schedule. This was the first time we had lost contact for days. My chest felt tight. I called again. Still off. I left a message. [Ignoring me? You think you're cool?] [I accidentally hit your childhood sweetheart today. Thoughts?] No reply. Annoyed, I stopped caring and went to sleep. 4 My agent's call woke me up the next morning. It was a death knell I couldn't ignore. "Elena Lin! When did you offend the Su family?" "Do you know they want to blacklist you?" "You really know how to cause trouble!" "Are you still sleeping? How can you sleep?!" I groggily checked my phone. The internet was flooded with dirt on me. Fake persona, pick-me girl, diva, sugar baby—every dirty label was thrown at me. It gave me heart palpitations. I explained the situation briefly. My agent was silent for a long time, then sighed. "The fake rumors, the company can send legal letters." "The real problem is endorsements and scripts. I've received countless cancellation calls today. The Su family wants to bury you." "Our small agency can't fight them." "Should you... ask Mr. Blackwood?" I scratched my head, frustrated. "Can't." "Cold war. He's ignoring me. Assume we broke up." "Plus, the person I hit was his childhood sweetheart. Who knows whose side he's on." Agent: ... She sighed again, gave me some instructions, and went to do damage control. I lay in bed, suddenly exhausted. This was the second time I faced being blacklisted. The first was when I just entered the industry. I had no background but good luck, landing a few decent supporting roles. Then a nepo baby named Jason tried to "sponsor" me. I refused. He got angry and tried to blacklist me. Suddenly, rumors swirled, and I couldn't get work. Young and reckless, I figured if I couldn't eat this rice, I'd smash the bowl. I waited outside Jason's usual club, put a sack over his head when he came out drunk, and beat him up. As I was dusting off my hands to leave, I turned and saw Julian. He was leaning against a Maybach, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, an unlit cigarette in his fingers. In the night, he raised an eyebrow at me. "Nice moves." I recognized him. I'd seen him at dinners, always surrounded by people. A man I couldn't afford to offend. But in that moment, I had an epiphany. If I needed a backer in this industry, I wanted to choose my own. So, faced with fight or flight, I walked up to him. "Mr. Blackwood, I need a sugar daddy. Interested?" Julian paused. "Sugar daddy?" He tapped his fingers on the car window, chuckling. "Any other roles available?" I shook my head. I only needed a sugar daddy who could get me roles. Julian was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Alright." So we got together. With him involved, all problems vanished. Not only did I get roles, but Jason walked the other way when he saw me. For three years, Julian rarely interfered with my work and never hid our relationship. I was the one trying to avoid suspicion. For a while, I refused his resources to maintain distance. He just said: "Elena, don't play the noble card with me. Leaving my resources unused to suffer on your own? That makes you the idiot." "Besides, is relying on me embarrassing? Am I unpresentable?" Julian was very presentable. But he was ignoring me now. Can't rely on him if I wanted to.
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