Running Over The Head Of My Ex [Rebirth]

Chapter 62

According to He Qingqi, D.D.O.G.’s style was quite different from other girl groups.

While most girl groups were made up of long-legged, slim-waisted beauties who never uttered a curse word, these two were short, barely over 160 cm, and constantly called each other “dog.”

“Lin Dog.”

“Liu Dog.”

“Call me, Daddy!”

Or sometimes even:

“Screw you, Daddy!”

“Then go do it yourself.”

“Admit it?”

They were so active on Weibo that they seemed like parody accounts, constantly roasting each other online.

At first, they frequently appeared on trending searches. Titles like #DoubleDogsCursingEachOtherOnWeibo, #DoubleDogsUnfollowEachOtherOnWeibo, or #DoubleDogsUglyPhotos would pop up.

Eventually, everyone got used to it, and even the trending search moderators didn’t bother looking at them.

But this quirky style ended up attracting quite a few fans.

Coupled with their unique voices and outstanding creative ability—writing, composing, and performing their own songs—Lin Dao and Liu Ge stood out. Their cheerful, unpretentious personalities made them as carefree as birds, and they had once thrived in the entertainment industry.

Although He Qingqi wasn’t familiar with them, she didn’t have any ill feelings toward them; in fact, she had a good impression of them.

But!

What time is it now? They had interrupted her video call with Zhuo Zhiwei!

He Qingqi was almost about to faint from anger, her teeth itching with frustration.

Moreover, she had once personally seen Lin Dao visit Zhuo Zhiwei on set. The two were very close, speaking in familiar tones as they leaned against each other, looking at something together, with Lin Dao casually calling her “senior.”

The worst part was that Zhuo Zhiwei had smiled at Lin Dao. Zhuo Zhiwei, who was usually so calm and distant, like the cold, unreachable moon, had, in that moment, seemed to come down to earth, her clear eyes tinged with a faint smile.

Zhuo Zhiwei had never smiled at her like that, not even when they were at their closest.

At the time, He Qingqi had only felt a bit lost, recognizing that Zhuo Zhiwei had other, better friends. But now, looking back, her heart was a sea of jealousy.

It was like a dam had burst, and a flood of emotions swept through, overwhelming He Qingqi entirely. She was drenched in sourness from head to toe, filled with an inexplicable sense of resentment.

Why didn’t she smile at me? He Qingqi’s eyes shone with grievance.

Could it be that Zhuo Zhiwei liked Lin Dao? The thought made He Qingqi’s heart ache with jealousy, and she couldn’t help but compare herself to Lin Dao.

Not as tall as her, not as slim, not as pretty—at most, just more talented in music.

Why wouldn’t she like me instead?

Thinking this, He Qingqi, who had just been consumed with jealousy, suddenly paused.

She deflated.

She remembered that in her past life, she had gotten married.

But in this life, she was still single and still eligible to pursue her.

He Qingqi instantly perked up again.

Tao Jinghan sat cross-legged, watching He Qingqi’s dramatic changes in expression, and grabbed another handful of sunflower seeds.

By now, she had lost interest in the exciting TV show and was staring unblinkingly at her phone screen.

This girl was just too jealous.

Someone had just come to Zhuo Zhiwei’s room to talk about work, and it was making her this uncomfortable.

Tao Jinghan clicked her tongue twice.

He Qingqi stared intently at her suspected rival on the other end; her ears perked, desperately wanting to fly over there and kick Lin Dao out of Zhuo Zhiwei’s room.

She suddenly remembered a song she used to really like, her eyes gleaming with mischievousness as her tongue moved faster than ever.

“On my way home, I saw a sign pointing to the entertainment circle. If I choose to go forward, I must be strong. Walking and walking, I inexplicably ran into several dogs. I wondered when I adopted so many dogs.”

He Qingqi hummed the tune, her mood gradually lifting, singing all the way to the part: “Dogs, dogs, dogs, dogs…”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but Zhuo Zhiwei’s phone was on speaker, so faint sounds drifted from the phone propped up on the bed.

Lin Dao suddenly stopped talking, her ears twitching as she tilted her head in confusion.

After listening for a moment, she was puzzled, asking, “Why do I feel like someone’s calling me?”

Then she used her pinky to scratch her ear, but she could still hear it.

Was she going to be deaf?

Desperate, she asked, “Senior, did you hear that?”

Tao Jinghan: “…”

True Dog is officially certified.

Zhuo Zhiwei, certain that He Qingqi wasn’t familiar with Lin Dao and wouldn’t call her directly, was initially taken aback. Then, she politely curved her lips at Lin Dao, her voice calm. “Sorry.”

She motioned to her phone on the bed, inviting Lin Dao in and closing the door behind her, walking over to pick up her phone.

Her gaze softened unconsciously as she looked at Lin Dao. “It’s just me video chatting with a friend. Maybe you misheard. She seems to be singing.”

“Singing?” Lin Dao’s eyes lit up, clearly passionate about her profession. She asked with great interest, “Can I know what she’s singing?”

Zhuo Zhiwei nodded slowly, then picked up her phone. The moment her eyes met He Qingqi’s, the cold, detached demeanor she had shown earlier melted away, her expression becoming as warm and gentle as the sunlight on a winter afternoon.

“Xixi,” she called her.

Lin Dao blinked, a hint of surprise in her eyes, as she teased the now-softened Zhuo Zhiwei.

Xixi?

That He Qingqi? A mythical beast.

At first, she thought they were just a promotional couple, but she hadn’t expected their feelings to be so real off-screen, making it seem like Zhuo Zhiwei was entirely at ease.

“Ah?” He Qingqi, mistaken for a mythical beast, paused, feigning innocence as she blinked.

She felt a fleeting satisfaction and thought with righteous confidence that she hadn’t insulted Lin Dao—she had just sung a song.

“What song were you singing just now?”

He Qingqi pursed her lips, hesitated for a moment, and then asked, “What’s wrong? Did I disturb you?”

A sly smile flickered in her eyes, but she deliberately widened her eyes, asking pitifully, “You’re ignoring me; Jinghan is just watching TV, and I can’t even sing a little.”

Caught off guard, Tao Jinghan, who had been earnestly watching the scene unfold, began to doubt herself. Had she ever taken her eyes off her phone? Suddenly, the sunflower seeds lost their appeal, and her mind was full of exclamation points.

Zhuo Zhiwei sighed helplessly, but her focus was oddly misplaced. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”

He Qingqi said nothing; he just stared at her with big, accusing eyes.

“I’m not blaming you.” Zhuo Zhiwei smiled, comforting her. “It’s just that Lin Dao wanted to know what you were singing.”

Hearing that name from the person she adored, He Qingqi couldn’t help but pout, her heart bubbling with jealousy. Lin Dao—why was she calling her that affectionately?

Then, a mischievous grin flashed in her eyes as she honestly answered, “Jay Chou’s ‘Trapped in the Web.’ It’s one of my favorite songs.”

Upon hearing this, Lin Dao’s eyes suddenly lit up, as if she had found a kindred spirit. Without hesitation, she grabbed Zhuo Zhiwei’s phone.

Zhuo Zhiwei was startled, her empty fingers twitching slightly as she looked at the enthusiastic Lin Dao, unsure of what to say.

The beauty on the screen disappeared, replaced by a girl not nearly as attractive, and He Qingqi almost wanted to slap herself.

Lin Dao didn’t notice the awkwardness between the two, excitedly singing “Trapped in the Web” from start to finish.

As Zhuo Zhiwei listened, something seemed off. Why did the word “dog” keep popping up? She glanced at He Qingqi, who was still wallowing in regret.

Remembering how Lin Dao had asked earlier if someone was calling her, Zhuo Zhiwei couldn’t help but lower her eyes, biting her lip, and her eyebrows subtly arched.

So bad…

But so cute.

She blinked and silently apologized to Lin Dao on He Qingqi’s behalf.

Lin Dao clearly hadn’t noticed, beaming with joy as she exclaimed, “I love this song too!”

He Qingqi had been ready to battle it out online, but she hadn’t expected such a reaction from Lin Dao, leaving her momentarily stunned.

“Huh… What?”

Lin Dao thought she hadn’t heard clearly and repeated herself a bit louder, “I said I love this song too!”

Suddenly realizing something, she added, “No wonder I felt like someone was calling me earlier.”

She sang softly again, “Dogs, dogs, dogs, dogs…”

He Qingqi: “…”

Lin Dao, a little embarrassed, scratched her head. “Sorry, did I interrupt your conversation?”

“Should we continue tomorrow?” She handed the phone back to Zhuo Zhiwei.

Having just witnessed her little prank play out, Zhuo Zhiwei already felt a bit guilty. Hearing Lin Dao’s offer made her feel even more apologetic.

She shot He Qingqi a playful glare.

He Qingqi’s heart was instantly struck, feeling like she was floating on clouds made of cotton candy—soft, sweet, and unable to stop clutching her chest.

But then, suddenly,.

“No need, we were just chatting casually. Let’s finish our work first.”

Zhuo Zhiwei’s calm voice echoed in her ears.

He Qingqi felt as if she’d been struck by lightning, still wanting to resist one last time.

“Weiwei…”

“Enough, stop messing around.” Zhuo Zhiwei coldly rejected her.

But then, her eyes were filled with reassurance, her eyebrows curving into crescent shapes, revealing a small line of white teeth, and she smiled adorably, “I’ll be back in a few days.”

He Qingqi’s heart skipped a beat, realizing there was no room for negotiation. She blinked slowly and said, a bit forlornly, “Alright then.”

After thinking for a moment, she added with a hint of mischief, “You go ahead and finish up.”

Zhuo Zhiwei lightly bit her lip, her soft pink lips bouncing slightly.

She had seen through He Qingqi’s little scheme, her eyes as calm as a quiet sea rippling under the night sky—vast, understanding, and filled with warmth as she promised softly, “Alright, I’ll find you when I’m done.”

He Qingqi blinked, and suddenly it felt like fireworks were exploding in the sky. She stared at the screen, which now only had two faces, still in a daze.

Then, under Tao Jinghan’s watchful gaze, she lowered her eyes, licked her lips, and smiled sweetly.

One had to admit that this version of He Qingqi was quite captivating. A once fiery and passionate young girl now had someone she liked, and her eyes seemed to hold the entire galaxy, shining so brightly that it was hard to look away.

Tao Jinghan was slightly stunned but then heard He Qingqi continue to ask her:

“By the way, Jinghan, before Weiwei joined, what were you trying to say?”

Only now did she finally remember Tao Jinghan.

Tao Jinghan was speechless, her mouth twitching in disdain. She opened her mouth, her eyebrows knitting together, but then she stopped.

He Qingqi waited for a while, but Tao Jinghan didn’t say anything; her expression was frozen mid-speech.

“Jinghan, Jinghan? Did my connection freeze?”

Tao Jinghan frowned, looking all mysterious.

He Qingqi got excited, ready to pull up a chair to listen to the drama, but then heard her say, “Don’t talk; I suddenly forgot.”

He Qingqi: “…”