Gu Ran lowered her lashes, gazing at the photo of herself.
It was her first time wearing a wedding dress, her eyes bright with anticipation for the future, her smile sweet.
Back then, she hadn’t known that her future would be met with the words: "Gu Ran, I never proposed to you."
Gu Ran, I never proposed to you.
Gu Ran bit her lower lip, her fingers tightening around her phone as she stared at the screen. She didn’t scroll further, unwilling to read the speculative comments.
The call screen popped up—Ding Ze was calling.
"This is fcking disgusting," Ding Ze cursed the moment the call connected. He hadn’t expected Wu Zhen’s PR team for Meng Miaomiao to pull such a dirty move.
Ding Ze firmly believed Gu Ran wasn’t married, let alone secretly married. A girl with a family wouldn’t have shown up alone at Cat Paw’s headquarters to sign a contract back then, her eyes shining at the mere mention of a 30,000-yuan base salary. If Cat Paw hadn’t been a legitimate company, she might’ve been taken advantage of long ago.
Wu Zhen’s goal in dredging up this photo was simply to divert public attention.
Whether Gu Ran was secretly married or not didn’t matter—as long as the focus shifted, Wu Zhen’s objective was achieved. After all, Cat Paw’s top beauty was already more popular than Meng Miaomiao. Now, with the photo surfacing, the discussion had turned entirely to whether Gu Ran had secretly married, allowing Meng Miaomiao’s leaked romance scandal from last night to quietly fade. A few bought comments later, and everything could be swept under the rug.
Besides, few people took wedding photos without intending to marry. Even if Gu Ran produced her household register to prove she wasn’t married now, the public’s attention would still fixate on her past—how she’d once been serious enough to try on wedding dresses.
After venting, Ding Ze steadied himself. "Is this the only photo, or are there others?"
Gu Ran thought of the dresses she’d tried on. "There are more."
She had no idea how these photos had leaked or how Wu Zhen and Meng Miaomiao had gotten their hands on them.
Ding Ze exhaled sharply. "Just say it was from your modeling days."
"I’ll handle the rest."
But this approach carried risks. Wu Zhen was well-versed in manipulation—just like the last time with the "luxury car with the CEO" post, she’d waited until the backlash peaked before dropping evidence to humiliate Gu Ran. This time, the moment Gu Ran claimed it was a modeling photo, Wu Zhen might counter with a customer registration form from the bridal shop.
Gu Ran listened quietly before replying, "Okay."
Ding Ze rolled up his sleeves on the other end of the line. "So they drag us into their mess every time something happens? Fine, I’ll buy some comments too and make sure her dirty laundry goes viral."
Gu Ran let out a hollow laugh. "Go ahead."
...
The "Cat Paw’s top beauty" was accused of secretly marrying after wedding dress trial photos surfaced. Some criticized her, others refused to believe it, but most were just waiting for her response.
After all, a single wedding photo—especially a solo one—wasn’t definitive proof. It could easily pass as a modeling shoot, unlike an ironclad marriage certificate.
Given how Gu Ran had hilariously debunked the "luxury car with the CEO" rumor last time by storming into a live broadcast fresh-faced and furious, many now eagerly camped in her live stream room, hoping for a repeat performance.
But as hours passed from morning to afternoon, Gu Ran didn’t abruptly go live to angrily refute the claims like before. The suspense left many restless.
It wasn’t until 7:30 PM—her usual streaming time—that Gu Ran finally went live.
Seated before the camera, fully made up, she took a deep breath as viewers flooded in: fans, antis, and curious onlookers.
Before she could speak, the comments erupted:
[Just tell us—are you secretly married or not?]
[Wedding photos don’t lie. Last night she said no boyfriend, but said nothing about a husband—typical wordplay.]
[Since when does a wedding photo equal marriage? Since when can’t single women wear wedding dresses?]
[I modeled wedding dresses in college—guess I’m married too?]
[Fans, stop coping. What single woman randomly takes bridal photos? Only fools would buy that.]
[Even if not married, she was clearly close. And yet she’s been selling this flirty, universally attractive persona. Kinda gross.]
...
Gu Ran scanned the chaos before speaking. Though less fiery than during the car scandal, her words were firm:
"First, let me clarify: I am currently single. No boyfriend, and certainly no marriage."
With that, she pulled out her household register, shielding private details to reveal only the marital status column—clearly marked "Unmarried."
The moment "Unmarried" appeared, her little fish fans rallied:
[See that? UNMARRIED!]
[First time seeing someone debunk marriage rumors with a household register. Queen behavior!]
Yet dissenters persisted:
[Then explain the photo!]
[So you were about to marry, huh? Pathetic.]
[Obviously a modeling shot.]
[Maybe it’s not even Gu Ran, just a lookalike.]
"Second, about that photo." Gu Ran paused.
Ding Ze had advised her to call it a modeling gig.
Just a modeling photo. Nothing more.
But as she faced the camera, the words stuck in her throat.
It wasn’t a modeling photo.
And there was no shame in that.
Gu Ran closed her eyes briefly, drew a steadying breath, and met the lens again. "The person in that photo is indeed me."
The atmosphere in the live broadcast room, unlike last time's playful debunking, was tense. Her voice was calm yet resolute: "And it wasn’t a modeling shoot. I’ve never modeled."
A wave of "WTF" flooded the comments.
Not a modeling shot? So an actual wedding photo?
Even her little fish fans seemed stunned into silence.
Gu Ran clenched her hands on the desk, steeling herself before the trolls could strike. Suddenly, she smiled at the camera. "If I told you I’ve never been in a relationship—that I’ve been single my whole life—you wouldn’t believe me, right?"
The audience took in her flawless features and collectively hesitated.
With looks like hers, she’d have been campus royalty. Unless every guy around her was blind, how could she have never dated?
Admitting the truth lifted a weight off Gu Ran’s shoulders. "That photo is real. I was in love once. I tried on wedding dresses. I almost got married."
She shrugged: "It just didn’t work out in the end. I’m single now—no husband, no boyfriend. That’s all there is to it."
"Before I became a streamer, I was just an ordinary person. Are ordinary people not allowed to date?"
Gu Ran finished speaking, spun her swivel chair, and tilted her head, waiting to see everyone’s reaction.
The audience watched the streamer leisurely spinning in her chair on the live broadcast.
Silence fell again.
They knew she was honest, but they hadn’t expected her to be this honest.
The antis who had been ready to unleash a barrage of hate suddenly found their fingers frozen over their keyboards.
Shouldn’t you have just said you used to model for photos?!
You spilled everything—what are we antis supposed to say now?!
Gu Ran casually dragged the photo onto the live stream screen and gave it an appreciative look: "I think this photo turned out pretty nice."
"Oh, one more thing—it was one-sided. My ex didn’t want to marry me, so we broke up."
The silent crowd stared at the photo on the screen—the radiant bride in white, smiling so sweetly you’d want to marry her on the spot.
And then they heard the streamer casually say, "My ex didn’t want to marry me."
The girl in the photo had been smiling so brightly, wearing a wedding dress, brimming with anticipation.
But the ending was: "It was one-sided. My ex didn’t want to marry me."
This should have been the most painful, most vulnerable part of her life, yet she said it so lightly. It wasn’t that it didn’t hurt—it was just that she’d already passed the worst of it and had no choice but to let go.
And now, someone had not only spread rumors about her being secretly married but had also dug up this photo to expose her deepest wound.
It was so shameless that even the antis had nothing to say, and bystanders couldn’t stand it.
[OMG I’m furious!]
[The rumor-mongers can go to hell!]
[There’s actually someone in this world who didn’t want to marry Gu Ran?! How?!]
[What kind of idiot would pass up Gu Ran?!]
[So what if she has an ex? Are ordinary people not allowed to date? Gu Ran never pretended to be single while taking thousands in donations like some people. Even if she dated now, who cares?!]
[To those saying she’s ‘cringe’—look in the mirror, your brain’s the one that’s cringe.]
[I once had a one-sided crush too. It’s so painful.]
[Why am I crying? Her eyes were sparkling in that wedding dress photo. She must have been so hopeful back then… This hurts.]
[My heart aches for her.]
Gu Ran saw the flood of sympathetic comments and comforted them instead: "Alright, I’ve explained everything. No need to feel sad for me."
"Let’s listen to a song together!"
With that, she played a pre-downloaded track.
The lively beat of Beyoncé’s classic "Single Ladies" filled the stream.
The fans who had been on the verge of tears now watched as their streamer cheerfully sang along to "I’m a single lady."
"……"
This demon!
……
At Xinbo, Xu Hui’s hands trembled as he handed over the photos.
Meng Miaomiao’s account had already been banned, and Wu Ling had just been officially fired by Cat’s Paw.
Xu Hui placed the stack of photos in front of Ji Shiyu.
There were many more than the ones in today’s news—dozens, in fact.
Gu Ran had tried on over a dozen wedding dresses back then.
Ji Shiyu flipped through them, his movements growing faster and more frantic until he finally shut his eyes in agony.
He hadn’t known.
Suddenly, Ji Shiyu dropped the photos, scattering the files as he rushed out.
……
Gu Ran had just ended her stream.
Ding Ze was surprised by her choice to tell the truth tonight, but the results were even more unexpectedly positive. So what if a streamer dated before she was famous? A one-sided love story was heartbreaking—many casual fans had been converted into diehards.
Ding Ze: "Meng Miaomiao’s account got banned. Did you see Cat’s Paw’s official statement cutting ties with her?"
Gu Ran parroted Ding Ze’s words from yesterday: "Really? Then we’re officially the undisputed top streamer now!"
Ding Ze chuckled, then remembered how Gu Ran had happily belted out "I’m a single lady" during the stream and couldn’t help asking: "You’re really not upset?"
He knew Gu Ran had once been a caged songbird, but he hadn’t realized she’d gotten as far as discussing marriage.
Gu Ran: "I’m way past being upset now."
"Honestly, my ex didn’t do anything wrong. He just didn’t like me back."
"But I do feel sorry for him."
Ding Ze: "Sorry for what?"
Gu Ran planted her hands on her hips, dead serious: "He missed out on an amazing woman like me. Don’t you think that’s a shame?"
Ding Ze: "……Can’t argue with that."
Gu Ran hung up and heard the doorbell ring.
Assuming it was her late-night takeout—spicy crayfish—she opened the door to find Ji Shiyu standing there instead.
She frowned, displeased: "What are you doing here?"
"Nannan," Ji Shiyu called softly.
Gu Ran took a step back, wary: "Hm?"
The hallway light was dim, his tall frame looming. Ji Shiyu’s throat moved, his voice rough.
"I’m sorry."
