I Swear I Don’t Want to Be Everyone’s Favorite - Chapter 23

Soon, the hashtag #Fu Yunqing Says She’ll Take the Lead# trended, but Jiang Luoyue no longer had the courage to click on it.

She thought that by actively distancing herself from fan culture, she could escape these embarrassing topics. Yet, the very next day on the set of Calling Spirits, after finishing a scene, Yu Qiu unexpectedly asked, “Are you and Fu Yunqing close?”

For the past couple of days, Yu Qiu had been giving Jiang Luoyue the cold shoulder. But since work wasn’t about socializing, aside from discussing the script, Jiang Luoyue hadn’t exchanged a single word with her.

“I saw your trending topic with her last night.”

With that casual remark, Jiang Luoyue’s buried memories slowly resurfaced. Suppressing her embarrassment, she asked, “What about it?”

The entertainment industry was never short of people who, after collaborating on one project, confidently assumed that the other person’s connections were now their own. Jiang Luoyue hadn’t encountered such individuals personally but had heard plenty of stories. She waited for Yu Qiu’s response, but the woman seemed to take it for granted, and her next words far exceeded Jiang Luoyue’s expectations.

“No wonder she asked me to look after you on set,” Yu Qiu said. “You’ve only filmed two episodes of the variety show together, and you’re already this close.”

Jiang Luoyue: “…?” Look after me?

Before she could fully process it, one of Yu Qiu’s ten assistants approached her, forcibly took her bag and costume, and began fussing over her, offering tea and water.

Noticing Jiang Luoyue’s bewildered expression, Yu Qiu nodded with a smile. “No need to be polite. If you need anything, just let her know.”

Jiang Luoyue assumed it was a spur-of-the-moment gesture and that it would end in a couple of days. But even as her scenes in Calling Spirits were nearly finished, Yu Qiu’s assistant remained by her side, attending to her every need with meticulous care.

When Jiang Luoyue tried to send the assistant back, the woman responded with a pitiful tone, “Miss Jiang, if I’ve done something wrong, just tell me and I’ll fix it.Her act of grievance was so convincing that Jiang Luoyue gave up after a few seconds of being stared at. Still, she privately sought Yu Qing’s help, only to receive a startled reply: “She assigned her assistant to follow you? Well, let it be. It’s only for a few more days.”

“Don’t worry,” Yu Qing added, seeing Jiang Luoyue’s unease. “We’re already looking for an assistant for you. We’ll definitely find a suitable one before the next recording of Hate Me.”

Jiang Luoyue reluctantly accepted this vague promise.

Her role in Calling Spirits wasn’t extensive. Originally scheduled to wrap up in a week, she finished in six days thanks to her exceptional performance.

In her final scene, Jiang Luoyue wore the school uniform from her promotional photos, sitting at a desk.

But unlike previous scenes where she was the one staring at Yu Qiu’s character, Wei Qian, this time it was Wei Qian who, from a few seats away, watched her with terrified eyes.

The warm sunlight bathed her face with a noticeable warmth. As the class ended, students chatted and laughed, heading out. Someone called out loudly, “Luo Cheng, wanna play ball?”

Wei Qian stared at the figure sitting in Luo Cheng’s seat shoulder-length hair, bangs covering the eyebrows and obscuring the eyes. Though she heard no response, the person asking answered their own question: “You’re just afraid of losing to us, aren’t you?”

Someone else mocked, “Hasn’t he always been like this? Let’s go, no point wasting time on him.”

Wei Qian asked fearfully, “Who are you talking to?”

What she received, however, were nearly contemptuous glances and disdain: “Who else but Luo Cheng? Get lost.” “Luo Gaixiang, why are you still speaking up for her now? If she hadn’t accused you of stealing the class fund, how could you have taken a semester off?”

Luo Cheng? Luo Cheng had been on leave from school, staying at home for nearly half a year without setting foot in the school. And Luo Gaixiang had long been dead, how could she possibly be here? How could she possibly be speaking up for her?

Wei Qian blurted out her questions, only to be met with a counter-question: “Isn’t she right beside you?”

Her body stiffened instantly. A few seconds later, Wei Qian abruptly turned her head. The seat beside her, which had been empty for five months in her memory, was once again occupied by a familiar figure. Luo Gaixiang was quietly gazing at her test paper, and as if sensing the stare, she slowly lifted her eyes.

Those brown, bright eyes had lost their vitality, resembling a thick, murky ink pond a peculiar sight only seen on corpses that had been dead for days.

Wei Qian screamed, wanting to flee, but she realized that the faces of everyone she had spoken to had transformed into Luo Gaixiang’s likeness. They remained silent but blocked Wei Qian’s path of escape. On the verge of a breakdown, she cried out, “I didn’t mean to harm you! It was your parents who believed those lies and made you take the fall for Luo Cheng. It has nothing to do with me”

The obsessive figures paused. Suddenly, Wei Qian found she could leave. She fled desperately, driven by fear, and took a day off, too terrified to return to school. But the next day, she received a call from the Luo family.

A middle-aged man’s cheerful voice said, “Chengcheng has woken up and says he wants to see you.”

Woken up? How could a severely injured comatose patient from a car accident suddenly regain consciousness?

In the hospital room, Luo Cheng was wearing his school uniform, clearly in his teenage form, but draped over it was Luo Gaixiang’s dress, washed to a faint yellow hue. His body was covered in burn scars, like the charred surface of burnt wood, twisted into horrifying, aged wrinkles.

His parents stood by the hospital bed, tears in their eyes, their faces unable to conceal their joy, as if they were blind to those scars. Only when they saw Wei Qian did they wave and say, “Xiao Qian? Why aren’t you coming in?”

Wei Qian was nearly hysterical: “Can’t you see? Those burns on his body he isn’t really”

But before she could utter the name, Luo Cheng suddenly spoke: “Xiao Qian.” His vocal cords seemed severely damaged, his voice rough and hoarse, yet with an undeniable softness. “It was because you kept calling me that I came back. Why do you want me to leave now?”

“I’ve been trying so hard to catch up to you, to not be left behind.”

Memories flashed through Wei Qian’s mind. She stepped back, recalling the Luo parents’ murmured instructions months earlier: “We consulted a master. Chengcheng lost a part of his soul, which is why he hasn’t woken up. As long as you keep calling his name, he will definitely awaken. You were Gaixiang’s good friend and have liked Chengcheng since childhood.”

Though skeptical, Wei Qian hadn’t outright refused. It wasn’t just her even Luo Gaixiang, under her family’s demands, would say Luo Cheng’s name during class. All because the Luo parents insisted that the school was the place Luo Cheng was most familiar with. Calling for him there would give him the greatest chance of hearing.

But to outsiders, this sudden calling was merely a disruption of order. Gradually, some began labeling Luo Gaixiang as mentally unstable. Even though her academic performance remained as excellent as ever, she was stripped of her position as class monitor and became a victim of school bullying.

Wei Qian watched all of this from the shadows, observing the figure she could never surpass slowly sinking into the mire. Strangely, she felt an indescribable sense of pleasure and contempt. She began to become an accomplice to the Luo family. When Luo Gaixiang refused to “call back the soul,” Wei Qian would proactively report her, ensuring she received a severe beating.

Gradually, Luo Gaixiang stopped resisting and spoke even less. But Wei Qian felt it wasn’t enough.

So, she planted class funds in Luo Gaixiang’s desk drawer, causing Luo’s parents to make a scene and thoroughly humiliate Luo Gaixiang before withdrawing her from school. The Luo family was already struggling financially, burdened by Luo Cheng’s medical expenses, which had left them deeply in debt.

They had long wanted Luo Gaixiang to drop out, find work, or marry to ease the family’s burden.

When Wei Qian next visited the Luo household, the worry on the parents’ faces had vanished. Her father happily told her that the master had found a new way to wake Luo Cheng, but it required 100,000 in cash. Fortunately, he had arranged a marriage for Luo Gaixiang with a bride price of exactly 100,000, which had already been handed over. Soon, Luo Cheng would wake up.

She pushed open the door to Luo Gaixiang’s room cramped, narrow, filled with clutter, and containing only a small bed. Luo Gaixiang seemed to have tried to escape but had been locked inside. After days of starvation, she was gaunt and pale.

Wei Qian smiled as she tucked Luo Gaixiang’s hair behind her ear. Before leaving, she casually mentioned accidental insurance to the Luo family.

Not long after, she heard that a fire had broken out in the Luo home due to faulty wiring. Luo’s parents, busy caring for their son, escaped unscathed. Their lazy, unwilling-to-care-for-her-brother daughter, Luo Gaixiang, was burned to death. Everyone said she deserved it, and Wei Qian thought so too.

Even before stepping into this hospital room, she had firmly believed it.

Luo Cheng on the hospital bed reached out as if trying to stop Wei Qian. In a daze, two figures overlapped, and Wei Qian suddenly remembered how, half a year ago, Luo Gaixiang had used the same fear-filled voice to plead with her for the first time: “Save me.”

In the silence, she heard the woman ask, “You said that was her first cry for help.”

Wei Qian replied, “She was afraid of implicating me.”

“She really liked you.” The psychologist recorded everything meticulously. Flipping through her notes, she suddenly asked, “We’ll stop here for now regarding Luo Gaixiang’s case. Now, I want to ask about the deaths of Luo Ye, Wang Xu, and Luo Cheng.”

“Three months ago, Luo Ye and his wife, unable to afford the exorbitant medical fees, discharged Luo Cheng from the hospital. Just three days after leaving the hospital, a fire broke out in their home, and the entire family of three was burned to death. Surveillance footage shows that you were the only person who entered the Luo residence before the fire started.”

“Three days ago, you confessed to your crimes. Now, I need to confirm the details of what happened.”

The camera shifted to a frontal view, showing Wei Qian, handcuffed, staring at the psychologist. After a few seconds, she smiled—a small, subtle smile, much like Luo Gaixiang’s and softly replied, “Okay.”

Even after the filming ended, Yu Qiu remained immersed in the storyline, unable to snap out of it: “Wait, so I really am the villain?”

Her astonished tone instantly lightened the inexplicably solemn atmosphere on set. After Jiang Luoyue finished her scene, she had been quietly observing Yu Qiu’s performance. While impressed, she was also somewhat puzzled: “Don’t you know the plot?”

“In my script, you’re just a ghost who inexplicably came back to life and kept haunting me.”

After several days of filming, although the two weren’t particularly close, they had become nodding acquaintances who could exchange a few words.

Recalling the plot, Yu Qiu felt a lingering fear: “Who would have thought I was the one who caused your death. The scenes I shot earlier were all so kind-hearted!”

As the filming progressed over the days, the storyline gradually became clearer Luo Gaixiang had been wronged and killed by everyone. But no one expected that, at the final moment, Yu Qiu would actually seek ‘revenge’ for her.