Chapter 16: Impersonation This is worse than those who steal pictures on blogs…

Chapter 16: Catfishing

This is even worse than those who steal photos for blogs...

Tang Tang frowned—she didn’t recall having any social media accounts.

Chutang Entertainment was a major player in the domestic industry.

Her mother, a former lawyer and now Chief Public Relations Officer at Chutang Entertainment, had reminded her more than once to keep a low profile online, because everything she did could affect the company’s reputation.

To quote Madam Wang Chuyun directly: *"Don’t act like some spoiled trust-fund brat, parading around announcing who your parents are! You can spend money if you want, but don’t show it off—it’s not like you earned it yourself, and you’ll risk tanking your parents’ careers."*

Tang Tang took this advice seriously. Even when her identity was completely doxxed by people around her, she never dared grab a megaphone and shout, *"Attention everyone—I’m about to show off my money!"*

She didn’t need strangers' envy or resentment to feel good about herself.

Her highs and lows were hers alone. Most netizens were just scrolling mindlessly, looking for something entertaining—who really cared whether she was doing well or not?

"Who is this?" Tang Tang had a ton of questions.

She clicked into the blogger’s profile picture.

The blogger, named *"Meow Meow in New York,"* wasn’t huge—but not small either, with around 100,000 followers publicly and a core group of die-hard followers, likely around 40,000 to 50,000.

Tang Tang kept scrolling.

The account mostly shared carefully curated glimpses of luxury—or, bluntly speaking, shameless bragging.

The latest post was a 9-pic grid showing New York street scenes, a partially hidden apartment logo, and finally, a photo of Tang Tang’s Bentley and one of her limited-edition designer handbags.

"Have you ever carried this bag? It’s so ugly."

Zhu Yanyan leaned in, dropping her brutal opinion.

Tang Tang also found it strange.

She barely recalled that gaudy Himalayan Birkin—she’d only used it once, three or four months ago, and since then, it had been collecting dust in her closet.

"I can’t remember. But look at this photo—doesn’t it look like my place? I really can’t recall clearly, but the corner shown here looks like my wardrobe."

For Tang Tang, that memory felt less like a few months ago and more like a distant recollection—even Einstein wouldn’t have remembered such tiny details.

"Let’s check," Zhu Yanyan said decisively, grabbing Tang Tang’s hand and pulling her toward the walk-in closet. She carefully matched the angle from the post. "Look! This is exactly where the photo was taken!"

Tang Tang stood in the same spot and opened the display cabinet. Sure enough, from that exact angle, she saw that flashy Himalayan handbag.

"Did someone break in? That’s terrifying! Should we call the police?"

Tang Tang shook her head—she already had a rough idea what had happened.

"It’s Xu Miaoli. She came over for a while before. She must’ve sneaked into the closet and took these photos then..."

Zhu Yanyan’s face twisted slightly with envy, but she simply pouted and went back to helping Tang Tang search for clues, frantically scrolling through the screen.

"She hardly shows her face..."

Tang Tang pored over the posts with her, scanning every detail for any hint that could confirm the blogger’s identity.

Truth be told, Xu Miaoli was clever. No full-face selfies, no personal info like license numbers or student IDs—just occasional glimpses of clothes or a top-down pic of designer kicks.

Behind this seemingly perfect façade, doubts naturally arise.

Many people questioned in the comments: Does the blogger think she isn’t pretty? Or is she fabricating a persona? Why are there no straightforward photos?

Xu Miaoli’s PR game is stronger than her acting chops.

She didn’t bother deleting critical comments or waste breath arguing. Instead, she used her clout as a blogger to like so-called "analyses," such as:

—Meow Meow can’t reveal her identity.

—She doesn’t like to show off, just shares stuff with us fans.

—Her family is strict and doesn’t allow certain posts, so she can only share G-rated daily updates to avoid affecting their business.

At this, Tang Tang let out a scoff.

She thought Xu Miaoli had learned these sketchy tactics only after entering the entertainment industry. Turns out Xu had been pulling these moves all along.

Tang Tang remembered how, in her past life, after Xu Miaoli became famous, she constantly promoted her "born-with-a-silver-spoon" persona, shelling out big bucks for paid hype.

Those fake bot accounts spread the word across social media, claiming she came from an old-money, bookish family that opposed her entertainment career, saying it was beneath her, but she "chose her dreams."

Tang Tang rolled her eyes.

She knew Xu Miaoli’s family fully supported her, even eager to push her younger brother into the industry for profit. Meanwhile, Tang, the one pulling the strings, had warned Xu that this fluff was meaningless and that honing her skills was the only sustainable path. Yet Xu accused her: "You just can’t stand to see me succeed."

"Guess hunger makes you trust anyone..."

Tang murmured, shaking her head as she scrolled further.

Finally, in a post from a year ago, they found the smoking gun linking "Meow Meow in New York" to Xu Miaoli.

Zhu Yanyan pointed at the zoomed-in photo, her eyes went doe-wide, her excited voice loud enough to be heard two rooms away.

"Look! This side-profile selfie—doesn’t it look like that person downstairs earlier? Your classmate?"

To make sure Tang saw it, Zhu even mimicked Xu Miaoli’s selfie expression, giving her best "trust me on this" face.

"It’s her. No doubt."

In contrast, Tang was much calmer.

Of course she recognized who it was.

Even if Xu Miaoli and Qin Zixian were reduced to ashes, she’d still recognize them.

Zhu Yanyan couldn’t stand Tang’s composure. She went for her phone, itching to drag Xu online.

"No way! I’m exposing her! Posting daily life is one thing, but secretly photographing your stuff? That’s worse than content scrapers!"

Her cheeks blew up like a pufferfish, her thick brows furrowed in anger, as if her own privacy had been violated.

"And she claims to be your ‘good friend’? What kind of friend does this? I can’t take it—I’ll get payback for you!"

Seeing Zhu’s rising fury, Tang quickly stopped her. "Don’t go charging in. You’ll just tip her off and land yourself in trouble. Let me handle this."

"But I’m worried about you!" Zhu was on the verge of tears. "You’re alone in New York, surrounded by people like this. Just thinking about it—"

She sniffled, tears dripping like raindrops.

Seeing Zhu Yanyan like this, Tang Tang’s mind had no room left for Xu Miaoli. She quickly locked her phone, moved closer to her friend, and pinched her cheek like a marshmallow.

"Having you is enough," she said, using her thumb to wipe away the tear hanging on Zhu Yanyan’s chin before adding, "You're the one who should be more careful about people around you. Just look at me—I'm a living example."

She seized the moment, trying to use her own experience to remind Zhu Yanyan that predators don't always wear their true faces. More often, they disguise themselves as gentle sheep, waiting until you've led them out of the pen and into your backyard before baring their fangs when you least expect it.

"Got it~ Oh, right, my mom said she wants to video chat once I get to your place. Did you know Aunt Chuyun is here too? They seem to have a mahjong session today."

Zhu Yanyan quickly composed herself and changed the subject.

Tang Tang, watching her friend’s emotions shift so swiftly, couldn’t help but worry whether her words had truly sunk in.

By the time Tang Tang snapped out of her thoughts, Zhu Yanyan had already started the video call, her face showing no trace of redness from crying, beaming like a sunflower in bloom.

Tang Tang: …

Is this the power of the heroine?

In the midst of her amazement, Zhu Yanyan was already holding the phone up to her, the screen displaying the face of a well-to-do matron who bore an 80% resemblance to her friend.

"Oh, Tang Tang's right here! Chuyun, look—hasn't Tang Tang gotten thinner? Her chin's so much sharper now."

In the video, Zhu’s mother panned the camera to Wang Chuyun, who was in the middle of a mahjong game, pondering her tile. Mother and daughter’s gazes met through the high-definition screen.

Tang Tang froze, her mind flashing back to the moment Wang Chuyun had handed her that ruby necklace, leaving the words she’d meant to say stuck in her throat.

“…”

Between drawing tiles, Wang Chuyun squinted, scrutinizing Tang Tang’s face. First, her brows furrowed in concern, but she quickly reverted to her usual stern expression.

"Why have you lost weight? You finally get a break and still don’t come home. Is Western food that bad? Now you know how good home is, don’t you?"

She had never approved of her daughter studying abroad. For someone like her, who had spent her whole life in Suzhou, marrying Tang Jianhua and moving to Shanghai was already her limit—let alone sending her daughter on a flight across the ocean.

"So, Young Miss Tang, when do you plan on coming home?"

Hearing the familiar teasing tone, Tang Tang schooled her expression.

No longer rebellious as she once was, she just gave a gentle nod. "I’ll be back for spring break. Have you had your physical recently, Ms. Wang? Should you really be playing mahjong with your heart condition?"

Wang Chuyun visibly paused.

In the background, the voices of Zhu’s mother and a few other well-to-do matrons mingled as they whispered to each other:

—Tang Tang has become so much more mature since she left.

—That’s right, girls are always more considerate.

—Daughters are sweet. My useless son only knows how to upset me!

Laughter lines appeared at the corners of Wang Chuyun’s eyes. "Then stop giving me so much trouble!"

Tang Tang didn’t retort. She quietly watched Wang Chuyun’s face on the screen—so alive, her wrinkles almost inviting a touch.

It’s so good… Mom’s healthy.

Holding back the feelings threatening to burst from her chest, Tang Tang took two deep breaths before broaching the subject she’d been preparing for days.

"By the way, there’s a girl in my class who wants to be an entertainer. She’s attractive and clever—should I introduce her to Brother Wen?"

"Who is it? Don't tell me it's Yan Yan..."

Zhu Yanyan had no idea what Tang Tang was up to, her eyes brimming with confusion and innocence. "I could never be a celebrity..."

Several wealthy housewives at the mahjong table joined in:

—Being an artist is tough! Always jetting around, memorizing scripts, and getting scolded if your look isn’t right!

—That’s right! Yan Yan, you mustn’t go! Tang Tang, talk some sense into your friend too. That’s not easy money.

—The entertainment industry isn’t like the Miss Hong Kong era anymore. Why are you all so old-fashioned?

Amid the chatter, Wang Chuyun played a "seven of ten thousand" tile without even looking up, settling the matter for Tang Tang.

"As long as it’s not Yan Yan, you can contact Brother Wen yourself. But whether she gets signed still depends on her qualifications. The company isn’t your personal playground."

"Will do!"

Tang Tang smiled, her eyes smiling into crescents.

The trap was ready. Knowing Xu Miaoli as she did, the grave would probably dig itself without her even needing to push.