What Should I Do if My Best Friend Is a Green Tea? [Transmigrated Into a Book]

The orchestra's van was parked at the back entrance, and the sick musician was helped inside. Fortunately, the hospital wasn’t far from the theater, so getting him to the emergency room in time wasn’t an issue.

After settling the musician, Chi Wei turned to look at the audience lining up for ticket checks. The sick musician was the cellist—though not the principal player, this was a classical concert, and without a cellist, the performance would be nearly impossible to carry on.

"It looks like we’ll have to cancel the concert," the conductor said regretfully.

But Chi Wei wasn’t ready to give up. She had put too much effort into this event.

Just then, her phone buzzed with a message from Yan Xi:

"Teacher Chi, Qingyu and I have arrived at the theater. Thanks for the tickets~"

Chi Wei’s eyes widened slowly. She remembered that the film crew had shooting scheduled for today—so Zhou Qingyu must have taken leave. Which meant… she was here at the theater!

In the theater lobby, Yan Xi couldn’t find Chi Wei and returned to Zhou Qingyu’s side.

Zhou Qingyu and Su Lingling’s long-standing rivalry had escalated from cello competitions to university rankings, and now to a battle of best friends.

Su Lingling lifted her chin proudly. "My best friend is a top celebrity!"

Zhou Qingyu scoffed. "Not anymore. Ye Luoyi’s popularity isn’t even close to mine now. But Xi Xi is a straight-A student—she ranked in the top ten in the provincial college entrance exams! Can Ye Luoyi claim that?"

Su Lingling stomped her foot in frustration. "Yi Yi’s just in a slump right now! Once her new drama airs, she’ll bounce back!"

Zhou Qingyu crossed her arms. "Whether the drama flops or not is a problem for later. Right now, isn’t she just sitting at home with nothing to do? Speaking of which, it’s been a while since Ye Luoyi’s been holed up, hasn’t it? If you’re such close friends, why didn’t she come to the concert with you? Seems like your friendship is pretty fake, huh?"

Su Lingling froze, momentarily speechless.

She had wanted Ye Luoyi to come. After all, with no work lately, a concert would’ve been a nice distraction. But when she went to Ye Luoyi’s villa earlier, she found her sprawled on the bed, too exhausted to move.

The shawl draped over her slipped, revealing pale shoulders and a neck covered in love bites—enough to make anyone blush.

Remembering the Ferrari she’d seen parked outside the neighborhood, Su Lingling instantly understood.

"Ye Luoyi!" she scolded, exasperated. "How could you be so reckless?"

When Pei Yubai and Zhou Qingyu’s relationship first came to light, Su Lingling had defended Pei Yubai—because back then, she truly believed he had loved Ye Luoyi.

But after the airport apology and the fireworks confession, Su Lingling saw the truth: Pei Yubai was a scumbag through and through. Two-timing, lying to both women—he wasn’t worth it!

"There are so many good men out there," Su Lingling said earnestly. "Pei Yubai doesn’t deserve you!"

Ye Luoyi buried her face in the shawl, too ashamed to meet her friend’s eyes.

"I want to let go… but every time he begs, I soften. He’s not even with Zhou Qingyu now. Just one last time, Lingling. Believe me, this is the last time..."

Su Lingling fell silent, shaking her head helplessly.

Back at the theater, Zhou Qingyu’s words left Su Lingling at a loss for a comeback. Frustration burned in her chest, but she couldn’t lash out.

"Ugh, I’m not arguing with you!" she snapped instead, handing her ticket to the usher and storming into the concert hall.

Zhou Qingyu watched her go, triumphantly planting her hands on her hips. "Hah! More like she can’t argue with me!"

After getting their tickets checked, Yan Xi and Zhou Qingyu also entered the hall.

The place was packed.

The concert was supposed to start at three, but even now, there was no sign of movement.

Zhou Qingyu frowned. "Did something happen?"

As if on cue, Chi Wei emerged from backstage. Since she had given Yan Xi the tickets—VIP seats in the front row—she spotted Zhou Qingyu easily.

Hurrying over, she explained the situation.

"Qingyu, I’m out of options. Zilu’s in the hospital now. If possible… I need you to fill in for him on stage. Please!"

Zhou Qingyu was stunned. "Your orchestra doesn’t have another cellist?"

Chi Wei sighed. "We do, but she’s not in Haicheng."

Zhou Qingyu hesitated. "...I can’t do it."

Chi Wei’s gaze was unwavering. "When I chose the setlist for the film crew, I had an ulterior motive. I picked pieces from tonight’s performance because I knew you’d rehearsed them with the orchestra before. You’ve already practiced with them—you can do this!"

It was almost eerie how well Zhou Qingyu had blended in during rehearsals. If no one pointed it out, no one would’ve guessed she wasn’t a professional.

But Zhou Qingyu was still nervous. This wasn’t like acting. On set, mistakes could be redone. A concert didn’t allow retakes.

Seeing her hesitation, Chi Wei played her last card. "If you won’t help, we’ll have to cancel the show."

Canceling would be a huge loss for Chi Wei, but she had no other choice.

Yan Xi nudged Zhou Qingyu encouragingly. "Just give it a try! Treat it like filming!"

Zhou Qingyu shook her head. "It’s not the same."

Yan Xi’s eyes flickered toward Su Lingling, seated not far away.

A mischievous glint lit her gaze. "Su Lingling’s been learning cello for years too. Qingyu, if you really don’t want to go on stage, maybe Teacher Chi could ask her—"

"No!"

Zhou Qingyu didn’t even let her finish. She couldn’t bear the thought of sitting in the audience while Su Lingling performed. She’d never live it down—Su Lingling would hold it over her forever!

Chi Wei had no idea who Su Lingling was, and realistically, if Zhou Qingyu refused, she wouldn’t just grab a random person off the street. But she caught Yan Xi’s drift immediately.

"Well, if you’re sure… I’ll go ask Miss Su—"

"I’ll do it!"

Zhou Qingyu gritted her teeth. No matter what, she wouldn’t let Su Lingling win.

Backstage, Chi Wei adjusted the cello for Zhou Qingyu.

Through the black curtains, Zhou Qingyu could see the sea of waiting spectators. An announcement about a "technical delay" had bought them ten more minutes, and the crowd waited patiently.

The last time Zhou Qingyu stood backstage like this was two years ago, during her time at Berna University.

Back then, she’d competed in countless cello contests and performed at school theaters so often that taking the stage felt like second nature.

But two years of neglect was an eternity for a musician.

What once came effortlessly now filled her with dread.

She opened her palms—they were damp with sweat. Her heart pounded wildly, betraying her nerves.

Then, a hand reached out and clasped hers.

Zhou Qingyu turned to find Yan Xi beside her.

She didn’t have many friends. This was the first time someone had stood with her before a performance.

She expected Yan Xi to say something sentimental.

In the end, Zhou Qingyu’s first words were, "Don’t worry, I’ve already asked Master Zhao to wait outside. If we mess up, we’ll just run! Let Chi Wei clean up her own mess—it’s her problem anyway!"

"You’re an actress now! Just being able to step in and save the show is already impressive. Don’t ask for the moon!"

Zhou Qingyu froze for two seconds before bursting into laughter.

She was right—why overthink it? If things went south, they’d just bolt. She’d already been branded a homewrecker by Ye Luoyi and Pei Yubai’s fans—could things get any worse?

With that, her nerves settled, and the earlier anxiety melted away.

The concert featured classical pieces, all of which Zhou Qingyu had mastered long ago. Recently, to perfect her role as "Pear Blossom," she’d been practicing the cello diligently.

There was nothing to fear!

Taking a deep breath, she watched as the curtains slowly parted—

The spotlight landed on her, and the moment she stepped onto the stage, it felt like she’d been transported back two years.

This was her battlefield. Even after two years away, everything felt familiar, down to the very air she breathed.

Straightening her posture, she walked gracefully to her spot, the cello gleaming softly under the lights.

...

As the symphony swelled, the audience was swept into the music.

Su Lingling, as usual, was immersed in the performance—until she caught sight of Zhou Qingyu and froze.

She even rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was hallucinating.

It was Zhou Qingyu. The Zhou Qingyu she despised most.

Yet here she was, seated onstage, fingers dancing nimbly across the strings, her expression poised and focused.

Su Lingling had always known Zhou Qingyu was beautiful.

But in this moment, she seemed to glow.

Su Lingling would never forget middle school, when she’d trained relentlessly for the opening ceremony’s cello solo, confident she’d clinch the spot—only to lose to Zhou Qingyu.

She’d been furious, convinced the Zhou family had pulled strings.

Just wait, she’d thought. Someone who got in through connections would surely embarrass themselves onstage!

But on the day of the performance, when Zhou Qingyu took the stage, Su Lingling felt her breath catch. Zhou Qingyu was stunning, and her music was even more breathtaking. Su Lingling thought she was looking at a fairy.

Ah, losing to a fairy wasn’t so bad, was it?

Then Zhou Qingyu stepped offstage, glanced at Su Lingling, and sneered, "So you’re my understudy? What, hoping I’d mess up? Even if I did, I’d still outperform you."

Su Lingling: "..."

This girl was insufferable!

She refused to like someone like that!

And so their rivalry began.

Back then, Su Lingling merely clashed with Zhou Qingyu—recording every one of her performances to study, mastering every piece Zhou Qingyu played.

When she later heard Zhou Qingyu had abandoned the cello, Su Lingling was livid. Why would she quit? She was brilliant! And then she became a homewrecker? What was wrong with her? With her looks and background, men should be falling over themselves for her—why stoop to that?

Su Lingling had no idea what Zhou Qingyu had been thinking these past two years.

All she knew was that it had shattered her.

But now, watching Zhou Qingyu onstage again, Su Lingling felt tears well up.

The girl before her overlapped with the one from a decade ago, playing the cello under the spotlight.

Look, the fairy’s still here~

.

Yan Xi wasn’t as deeply moved as Su Lingling.

That’s just how science-minded people were—she had no ear for music, only a passion for math and physics. She couldn’t tell if Zhou Qingyu’s performance was good.

But judging by Chi Wei’s teary-eyed excitement and the audience’s rapt expressions... it must have been decent?

The system shrieked in Yan Xi’s ear, [Host! I can tell!]

[Miss Zhou’s cello skills have improved! She’s even better than during her performance at Hawthorne Restaurant!]

Yan Xi arched a brow. "That’s great news~"

And such news shouldn’t be kept to herself.

She quickly messaged Wu Liao, instructing him to spread word of Zhou Qingyu’s participation in the classical concert.

Wu Liao: [Miss Zhou’s filling in for the concert?]

[...Can she pull it off?]

Yan Xi: [Have some faith in our boss!]

Wu Liao: [This isn’t like performing at a restaurant! The gap’s too huge!]

Yan Xi agreed—jumping from actress to professional cellist was a stretch.

But in reality, Zhou Qingyu had been playing the cello since childhood, back when the instrument was taller than her. It had been her companion for twenty years. Compared to that, her acting career was the new venture.

Yan Xi: [Even if we don’t announce it, interviews later will expose it.]

With so many audience members, someone was bound to recognize Zhou Qingyu. Better to control the narrative now.

Wu Liao: [Fine. I’ll buy a trending topic and hire comment moderators.]

After a pause, Yan Xi added: [If reactions are overwhelmingly positive, have the moderators stir some skepticism. If they’re already doubtful, leave it be.]

Wu Liao: [...]

[Playing both sides, huh? You’re ruthless!]

Yan Xi smirked: [That’s how you keep things interesting~]

A flood of uniform praise would seem fake. Controversy made it feel real—and kept the topic trending.

...

Two hours later, the concert ended to thunderous applause.

Backstage, Yan Xi was already waiting with flowers.

"Congratulations on a flawless performance, Miss Zhou!"

Zhou Qingyu was still riding the high of the show, her heart pounding. It had been so long since she’d performed, and now she remembered—her blood still ran hot.

Everyone around her was praising her—Chi Wei, the conductor, the other musicians.

Their approval sent her spirits soaring.

Truthfully, since the "Journey" livestream, compliments had been pouring in, especially after her recent role in "Madness," where Producer Xu and Director Wei praised her acting progress.

But those compliments felt similar to being called pretty online—pleasant, but not heart-stirring.

Tonight was different.

This was what she’d yearned for in her youth, what had driven her fickle self to persevere. Even after two hours of performing, she wasn’t tired.

It was like a seed had been planted in her heart, taking root, sprouting, nearly growing into a tree—only for her to rip it out.

Now, standing backstage, watching the bustling crew, Zhou Qingyu wanted to plant that seed again.

.

Meanwhile, online discussions about Zhou Qingyu’s last-minute concert appearance were heating up.

Despite her improved reputation after two seasons of "Journey," skepticism lingered.

[Classical concerts are serious business. Is Zhou Qingyu really up to it?]

[Feels like she’s overdoing the persona.]

[I adore Miss Zhou, but I doubt she’s skilled enough to substitute on such short notice.]

【I don’t get it. Shouldn’t actors focus on acting? Zhou Qingyu is always flaunting her wealth, playing the cello… all sorts of tabloid news. Can’t she just put more effort into her acting?】

Most people doubted Zhou Qingyu’s ability to perform well, after all, there’s a world of difference between a professional cellist and an amateur one.

Zhou Qingyu’s fans were anxious. The young lady’s reputation had only just improved, and they didn’t want her to face another wave of criticism just because of this last-minute substitution!

The concert was quite large-scale, with many musicians in attendance. Fans eagerly asked how Zhou Qingyu’s performance had been.

For those deeply involved in concerts and classical music, most didn’t even recognize Zhou Qingyu. They were shocked to learn that an entertainer had been mixed into the orchestra—only realizing it after fans pointed it out.

【The cellist today was a substitute? I thought she performed really well!】

【Her coordination with the orchestra was seamless. There’s no way she was a last-minute addition, right?】

【At least based on this concert, I’d say this actress did a great job!】

Chi Wei, seeing the online discussions, took the initiative to speak up for Zhou Qingyu using the official account of Gu Fan’s orchestra—

【Due to our original cellist being hospitalized with acute appendicitis, we had no choice but to invite Ms. Zhou Qingyu as a substitute performer.】

【Ms. Zhou played the role of Li Hua, the third female lead in Crazy Summer and Winter, who is also a cellist. To deliver a more authentic performance, she underwent extensive private training and even rehearsed with my orchestra. She has now reached a professional level, which is why I dared to invite her on stage.】

【Thanks to Ms. Zhou’s hard work, the performance lived up to everyone’s expectations.】

The Weibo post included a clip from the live performance, with Chi Wei deliberately selecting Zhou Qingyu’s best moments to showcase.

【This is my first time listening to classical music! It’s amazing!】

【When the young lady plays the cello, she’s not just plucking strings—she’s plucking my heart!】

【Am I the only one noticing that the young lady practiced the cello for her acting role? Seems like she’s finally taking acting seriously!】

【Crazy Summer and Winter is Director Wei’s new project? Can’t wait!】

Moreover, the musicians who performed alongside her also spoke up in her defense.

They had taken on minor roles in Crazy Summer and Winter for extra income, while Zhou Qingyu had stepped in to help them out. If the concert had been canceled, they would’ve suffered significant losses.

In no time, aside from the trending topics Wu Liao had bought, several more hashtags related to Zhou Qingyu surged to the top of the charts, and her fan count rose by hundreds of thousands.

After the concert, Zhou Qingyu and Yan Xi returned to the Zhou residence.

On the way, Zhou Qingyu scrolled through her phone, delighted to see multiple trending topics about herself.

No one dislikes praise, and Zhou Qingyu was no exception. In the past, she had avoided reading comments about herself because they were mostly negative. But recently, the feedback had been overwhelmingly positive, and she now fell asleep every night basking in her fans’ adoration.

Yan Xi was in a good mood too.

Not only had Qiao Yan informed her that two advertisers had reached out for endorsement deals with Zhou Qingyu, but the system had also notified her that Zhou Qingyu’s performance at the concert had earned her recognition in the music industry—adding another point to her luck value.

Since ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍this wasn’t part of the original novel’s plot, the luck value increase was modest. But with upcoming endorsement deals—all earned through Zhou Qingyu’s own efforts—the cumulative gains would be substantial.

Little by little, reaching 100 luck points was just a matter of time!

As the luxury car pulled up to the Zhou residence, Yan Xi spotted Lin Zhi near the security booth at the entrance.

Yan Xi was puzzled. She usually communicated with Lin Zhi via phone, and since Lin Zhi was more familiar with Xingyao’s operations—and the old residence was far from the company—what could be important enough for Lin Zhi to come in person?

But remembering Zhou Yanci, Yan Xi didn’t delay. She deliberately sent Zhou Qingyu ahead.

“It’s probably something about Chu Tingbai. Why don’t you go in first?”

In high spirits, Zhou Qingyu agreed. “Fine. Leave the complicated stuff to Lin Zhi—that’s what assistants are for!”

Just like how she dumped all her Zhou Group projects onto Yu Xiao.

Yan Xi: “Got it.”

Seeing Zhou Qingyu leave first, Lin Zhi sighed in relief. What she had uncovered wasn’t something she could share with Zhou Qingyu just yet.

Near the mansion’s entrance was a secluded pavilion. Yan Xi led Lin Zhi there, first spraying insect repellent around before sitting down.

“Did you get Meng Yingrong and Meng Xuanyu’s DNA?” Yan Xi cut straight to the point.

Lin Zhi nodded gravely and handed over the test results.

Yan Xi already knew their relationship, so seeing the report stating "It is highly probable that [Meng Yingrong] and [Meng Xuanyu] share a mother-son relationship" didn’t surprise her.

Lin Zhi, who had previously worked as Yu Xiao’s assistant and was aligned with Zhou Qingyu’s faction, now found Meng Yingrong’s actions utterly repulsive.

But if this were just about the DNA report, Lin Zhi wouldn’t have come to the Zhou residence so late.

“Director Yan, while investigating Meng Xuanyu, I stumbled upon something huge.”

Yan Xi raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Lin Zhi presented new evidence. “Meng Xuanyu recently lost 100 million at a Macau casino. Since he didn’t have the money, he took out a loan from loan sharks. To repay it, he used M-brand’s latest collection as collateral.”

Yan Xi gasped. “How much inventory would that take? But I haven’t heard of any supply issues at M-brand!”

“That’s the critical part.” Lin Zhi flipped to another document. “Following this lead, I dug deeper and found that Meng Xuanyu contacted manufacturers in Guangzhou—he replaced the authentic products with high-quality counterfeits for sale.”

Yan Xi: !!!

“Meng Xuanyu has lost his mind.”

If this got out, it would be catastrophic for M-brand.

No wonder the Meng family went bankrupt in the novel. After Zhou Yanci’s death, the scandal must’ve exploded, with no one left to cover it up.

Lin Zhi asked, “Director Yan, should we inform President Zhou?”

Even though Zhou Qingyu and Zhou Yanci were at odds, this was too big to ignore.

Yan Xi scoffed. “No way.”

The counterfeit goods were already in circulation—it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. The most Zhou Yanci could do was bail out the Meng family, spending his own money to plug the hole. The stock price and reputation of the Meng Group would inevitably take a hit—there was no avoiding it.

Lin Zhi hesitated. “So we just pretend nothing happened?”

Yan Xi fell silent, staring at the documents.

“Maybe… we need a different approach.”

Meanwhile, Zhou Qingyu returned to her room.

Qu Yan hadn’t left yet. She had come back to the old residence mainly to reclaim her position as Xingyao’s CEO. With Zhou’s Father and Zhou Yanci refusing to budge, and Zhou Qingyu siding with Yan Xi, she had to change tactics.

If she couldn’t get her CEO title back, she’d at least squeeze some benefits out of the Zhou family!

Qu Yan spread several project proposals in front of Zhou Qingyu. "Sweetheart, look at these! They're all projects from your grandfather's company, full of potential! The Qu family is your family too. Investing in the Qu family means investing in yourself!"

Zhou Qingyu was in a good mood. With a glance, she estimated that the total investment required for these projects was around fifty million. It was a significant sum, but she hadn’t spent much lately—mainly because every penny she spent had been earned back by Yan Xi. Besides, Qiao Yan mentioned two endorsement deals waiting for her signature, meaning more income was on the way. So, she agreed to Qu Yan’s request.

Qu Yan was overjoyed. Not wanting to overstay her welcome, she took the project documents and left the Zhou residence.

As she walked out of the hall, Qu Yan brushed past Yan Xi.

She raised an eyebrow smugly. How could Yan Xi compare to her? Zhou Qingyu had just casually invested fifty million in her, while Yan Xi was nothing but a mere employee! What worthless friendship—blood ties would always come first.

Yan Xi watched Qu Yan’s retreating figure and muttered, "Why is she so happy?"

[She just swindled fifty million from the young mistress—of course she’s happy!]

[Let’s be real, the only reason she came back to the Zhou household was to squeeze more money out of the young mistress.]

Yan Xi smirked. "She wishes."

[She’s still the young mistress’s aunt—what can you do about it?]

Yan Xi grinned triumphantly. "I can make Qingyu broke in an instant!"

[???]

When Zhou Qingyu saw Yan Xi return, she motioned for her to sit and share the grapes Aunt Zhang had just washed.

"You look pleased. Did you settle things with Chu Tingbai?"

Yan Xi leaned in with a mysterious air. "Not only did I settle it, but I also stumbled upon a huge money-making opportunity!"

Zhou Qingyu’s curiosity was piqued. "Oh? What is it?"

Yan Xi laid out the evidence Lin Zhi had gathered, placing each document in front of Zhou Qingyu.

"How about we go big—acquire the Meng Corporation?"