The Vicious Female Supporting Character Goes Viral After Her Masks Drop During the Talent Show - Chapter 18

The heavy thud of the fall sent a wave of shock through everyone present. Zhong Yan reacted instantly, rushing over to squat beside An Tao and check her condition.

The music cut off, and the rehearsal came to a grinding halt. Mentor Ye Shi dashed onto the stage while other team members scrambled to call for the production’s medical staff.

An Tao struggled to grasp Zhong Yan’s hand, pulling herself into a seated position. She waved weakly at the crowd.

“…I’m fine. I’m okay. There’s no need to call anyone. My vision just went dark for a second, and I lost my balance. I’m sorry… I didn’t perform well. I’m so sorry…”

Ignoring her apologies, Zhong Yan supported An Tao’s trembling body and signaled Jin Li to continue looking for the medics. “Let the medical staff check you over, just in case you’re injured.”

Ye Shi insisted as well. “Zhong Yan is right. You must be examined.” As a dancer herself, Ye Shi knew exactly how dangerous a fall during a high-difficulty aerial flip could be.

The medical team arrived quickly. After a thorough examination, they concluded—much to everyone’s relief—that An Tao had only sustained some bruising and no bone or ligament damage.

Ye Shi stood up and addressed the group. “Alright, that’s it for Group B’s rehearsal. Take An Tao back to rest immediately. Tomorrow is the official public performance; you must get your condition back in order.”

With Zhong Yan and Jin Li supporting her, An Tao stood up. Hearing Ye Shi’s words, her face filled with shame. As the leader, she felt terrible that her mistake had prevented the team from finishing their rehearsal.

“I’ve recovered,” An Tao started to say. “Actually, we can still—”

Before she could finish, Zhong Yan shot her a fierce glare that physically startled the rest of the sentence back into her throat. Zhong Yan had realized that if she wasn’t a little stern, this girl simply wouldn’t listen.

They were forced to leave the stage and take a shuttle back to the dorms. By the time they arrived, it was nearly dusk. Zhong Yan supervised An Tao strictly, making sure she ate a full meal at the cafeteria before forcing her into bed.

“Is it too early to sleep?” An Tao scratched her head. “I feel like I could go to the practice room to walk off this meal before bed…”

Zhong Yan put her hands on her hips. “The practice room again? Do you want to die?”

“…I didn’t do the side aerial well. I’m worried I haven’t practiced it enough…”

“Did you even hear Mentor Ye Shi?” Zhong Yan was nearly fuming. “You performed poorly because you practiced too much! What you need now is rest!”

An Tao didn’t dare speak another word and obediently tucked herself into her quilt. Zhong Yan closed the curtains tight, waiting until An Tao finally drifted off before quietly slipping out to record a temporary interview segment.

When Zhong Yan returned at 9:00 PM, she found the lights on and An Tao’s bed empty. Xia Meng told her An Tao had left ten minutes ago in her training gear.

Zhong Yan sighed. How can she wake up after only two hours? If it were her, she’d sleep for twenty-four hours straight after a week of sleep deprivation.

Outside the practice room, Zhong Yan found her. Caught red-handed, An Tao gave a sheepish smile. “I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I thought…”

Zhong Yan sat down on the floor beside her. “You want to practice that badly? Even after fainting on stage?”

An Tao sat down as well, her head hanging low. “I’m afraid I’m not good enough. I let everyone down today.”

Zhong Yan looked at her silently for a moment. “Do you know why I chose you first when picking teammates?”

An Tao hesitated. She had heard the rumors—that it was gratitude for her kindness, or because they were roommates. She whispered, “Maybe… I just got lucky?”

Zhong Yan laughed. “Lucky? If you were lucky, would you have only one second of screen time in the theme song? Would your solo be cut from the broadcast?”

Zhong Yan sighed. “The day the first episode aired, after calling your family, you ran to the practice room, didn’t you? I saw you. Your eyes were red.”

An Tao went silent for a long time. “I called my parents… they said they watched the show, but… they couldn’t find me.” She let out a self-mocking laugh. “I’m twenty-five. For an idol, that’s not the ‘prime age’ anymore. I’ve been a trainee since I was sixteen. I’ve debuted twice, and twice I’ve ended up back at zero. Nine years, and I have nothing to show for it. This might be my last chance. I’m terrified that if I’m not perfect, I’ll never have a next time.”

Zhong Yan listened quietly. In the original script, An Tao was just an NPC, her nine years of struggle reduced to a few lines. But to An Tao, this was her life.

Zhong Yan stood up and pulled An Tao to her feet. “An Tao, I didn’t choose you out of gratitude or because we’re roommates. I chose you because that night, I watched you dance alone in that mirror. There was no music, no audience, and you were crying—but you were elegant and resilient. I thought: a sight this beautiful should be seen by everyone.”

An Tao’s eyes welled with fresh tears.

“So don’t be afraid,” Zhong Yan gripped her hand firmly. “Tomorrow, just show them that beauty. I promise you won’t let anyone down.”

Shadows in the Dark

While Group B found their peace, Tian Jingyu was tossing and turning in bed. She had seen Group B’s rehearsal. Despite An Tao’s fall, Group B—especially Zhong Yan—was terrifyingly good.

Tian Jingyu was desperate. She couldn’t let Zhong Yan outshine her again. She had noticed Zhong Yan’s water bottle was nearly empty this morning, and she knew Zhong Yan hadn’t eaten much today.

In the dark, Tian Jingyu smiled. She had “borrowed” several packets of her high-dose glucose blockers—the kind she took to stay dangerously thin—and dissolved them into Zhong Yan’s water. On an empty stomach and under the physical strain of a performance, that dose would cause a sudden drop in blood sugar.

She didn’t need An Tao to fail anymore. She just needed Zhong Yan to collapse.

The Public Performance

The recording hall was packed. In the VIP section, two men sat in a freezing silence: Xu You, the producer from Origin Entertainment, and Lu Tingshen, the CEO of Dingming.

“Who are you here to see?” Xu You asked, waving a Zhong Yan slogan banner with intentional provocation.

Lu Tingshen’s face was dark. He had discovered that Zhong Yan was the famous author “Zhong Yan,” the very person he had been trying to sign. Seeing Xu You’s closeness with her made his chest tighten with an inexplicable irritation. She’s my fiancée, yet she’s this close to another man?

On stage, the host announced: “Next, please welcome the two groups performing—Playing!”

The crowd erupted. The rivalry was palpable. Tian Jingyu’s established fan base faced off against Zhong Yan’s rapidly growing “dark horse” following.

In the viewing room backstage, Tian Jingyu watched the monitor. Zhong Yan’s water bottle was empty. She hadn’t eaten.

Any moment now, Tian Jingyu thought, her eyes fixed on the screen. Any moment, the world will see you fail.