The Vicious Female Supporting Character Goes Viral After Her Masks Drop During the Talent Show - Chapter 3

In the morning, at the Lu family residence, the family of four sat for breakfast.

Fang Hui, the matriarch of the family, took an elegant sip of black tea before setting down her fine porcelain cup. She looked across the table at her son. “At the banquet last night, I noticed you and the Zhong daughter talked for quite a while.”

“Oh?” His younger sister, Lu Yuanqian, perked up and tilted her head toward Lu Tingshen. “Brother, it’s rare to hear that you could stand talking to Sister Zhong for that long.”

In Yuanqian’s childhood memories, her brother had always ignored Zhong Yan, acting as if speaking even a single word to her was a chore.

At the mention of her name, images of Zhong Yan from the previous night flashed through Lu Tingshen’s mind. After returning home, the more he thought about their encounter, the more irritated he became—so much so that she had even appeared in his dreams.

He took a sip of black coffee, letting the bitter, robust flavor spread across his palate. After a moment of silence, he looked at his parents. “Father, Mother, I intend to cancel the engagement with Zhong Yan.”

Since he had made his mind up, he felt it best to inform them early.

“Cancel it?” His parents exchanged a look.

Fang Hui spoke first. “While your father and I aren’t exactly thrilled with the idea of the Zhong daughter as a daughter-in-law, this engagement was a pact made by the previous generation. Both families are prominent houses and long-time friends. If this isn’t handled properly, the fallout could be significant.”

“I understand your concerns. However, my mind is made up. As for how to explain it to the Zhongs, you don’t need to worry. I will handle it personally to ensure there are no negative repercussions for the Lu family.”

“What ‘negative repercussions’ could there even be?” Lu Yuanqian muttered, gesturing a supportive fist toward her brother. “In this day and age, forced childhood betrothals are practically illegal. I think not canceling it would look worse. Go for it, Brother! I support your right to marital freedom.”

Lu Tingshen’s parents knew their son’s iron-willed personality. Once he decided on something, no one could change his mind unless he chose to do so himself. Furthermore, the Lu family was well aware of why the Zhongs were so desperate for the union lately. Wensheng Group was in decline; shedding that dead weight wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing for the Lu family.

Fang Hui didn’t push the matter further. Instead, she turned her attention to her daughter, who was eating while scrolling through her phone. “Qianqian, how many times have I told you? No phones at the table. You lack the poise of a proper young lady.”

“If I have to maintain a ‘young lady’ facade even at home, I’ll die of exhaustion,” Lu Yuanqian grumbled. “Brother, tell Mom to stop nagging me.”

The siblings were close. While Lu Tingshen was cold and unyielding to the world, he was always indulgent toward his sister’s whims. He softened his expression slightly. “You’ve been on that phone all morning. Is there something important?”

Lu Yuanqian looked up from a trending topic titled #Yan Shi’s Failed Fanboy Mission# and replied, “Not really. I just saw that my favorite author is going on hiatus, and then I discovered that my favorite celebrity happens to like the same author.”

“Your favorite?” Lu Tingshen asked casually. He knew she loved web novels and followed idols. “Who?”

“The original author of the hit drama Hating the Spring Breeze, and the male lead of that same show, Yan Shi.”

“Hating the Spring Breeze?” Lu Tingshen’s hand paused on his coffee cup, his brow furrowing. “The one produced by Yuandian Entertainment?”

“Yes, yes!” Yuanqian said excitedly. “Wow, if even you know about it, Brother, then it’s truly a massive hit!”

A romantic period drama certainly wasn’t within Lu Tingshen’s interests, but the fact that he had heard of it proved its “cross-over” success. He had frequently seen the title in various departmental reports since taking over the company. It was a phenomenon; every production house in the industry was studying it as a case study, and Dingming was no exception.

“A Yuandian production?” Fang Hui said with a hint of disdain. “Since when does Yuandian produce anything good? It’s all just marketing.”

“Mom, you can’t be biased just because Yuandian is our rival. Hating the Spring Breeze is genuinely excellent,” Yuanqian stated bluntly. “Honestly, from a viewer’s perspective, the shows Yuandian has put out in the last two years are higher quality than ours.”

In the current industry, Dingming and Yuandian were the two top-tier giants. Dingming was the established “old money” titan, while Yuandian was the rising power that had existed for less than ten years. Historically, Dingming had always overshadowed Yuandian in market share and quality, but Lu Tingshen had to agree with his sister’s assessment.

The data didn’t lie. Internal “de-watered” data showed that Yuandian’s market share had indeed surpassed Dingming’s. This decline had happened over the last two to three years—specifically while his father was on medical leave and his uncle, Lu Mingqiu, was acting as interim CEO.

Clearly, his uncle was the problem.

“I think my sister has a point,” Lu Tingshen said. “Dingming’s performance over the last two years has been less than ideal. I’m calling a high-level meeting this morning to discuss our future strategy.” He glanced at his father. “Internal rectification is also imminent.”

Lu Dingchun understood exactly who his son intended to “rectify.”

“Dingming’s future needs new thinking, so I’m leaving it all to you,” his father said in a gentle but firm tone. “However, do not be too hasty with internal changes. Some of the veterans have worked their entire lives for this company. They may be old-fashioned, but they have no ill intent. You must show some humanity when dealing with old employees.”

Lu Tingshen noted the warning but remained non-committal.

The Dingming Group Boardroom

Zhou Ze, the Director of Film and Television, watched Lu Tingshen’s expression warily as he concluded his report. “…Aside from the anomaly of Hating the Spring Breeze boosting Yuandian’s market share, Dingming still maintains its leading position. There is no need for concern, President Lu.”

“An anomaly? Temporary?” Lu Tingshen flipped through the documents. “Two years ago, Yuandian had a quarter where they surpassed us. You ignored it then, calling it an anomaly. This year, it happened again. Do you still think it’s a fluke?”

“President Lu, it truly is unique,” Zhou Ze explained. “The hit from two years ago and this year’s Hating the Spring Breeze both came from the same author’s IP. Their other works have been mediocre.”

Lu Tingshen tapped the name that appeared repeatedly in the files. “This author… Zhong Yan?”

“Yes.”

“If you realized this person’s IP had such market potential, why didn’t we secure the rights? Why did we let Yuandian beat us to it?”

Zhou Ze sighed, casting a cautious glance at Lu Mingqiu, the Director of Talent Management sitting across from him. “We did contact the author. We even offered more money than Yuandian, but…” He hesitated. “But after a comprehensive evaluation by Director Lu… and myself, we decided to pass.”

Lu Tingshen caught the subtext: Zhou Ze wanted it, but Lu Mingqiu had blocked it.

“Oh?” Lu Tingshen turned to his uncle. “It seems Director Lu had a different opinion?”

Lu Mingqiu, though no longer the acting CEO, still held immense power as the head of the talent department. He addressed his nephew by name, ignoring corporate hierarchy. “Tingshen, you don’t understand. This ‘Zhong Yan’ is arrogant. He makes too many demands. First, he insisted on having final script authority. Then, he demanded the right to choose the male lead. He’s just a web-novel writer—an outsider who knows nothing of production—and yet he wanted to play director. It was preposterous.”

In the old-school industry, investors and producers held the power. Authors were expected to take the check and stay quiet. To a man like Lu Mingqiu, Zhong Yan’s demands were an insult.

“But the results prove he was right,” Lu Tingshen countered coldly. “The scripts were well-received, and his choice of lead actor became a superstar overnight. This ‘outsider’ has a sharper eye for talent than 99% of casting directors in this industry.”

Lu Tingshen’s curiosity about this mysterious author grew. “A drama is only as good as its story. To succeed, we must respect the source material and the writer. Yuandian’s strength is their willingness to listen to the creator. We need to discard our outdated thinking.”

Ignoring his uncle’s darkening face, Lu Tingshen turned back to Zhou Ze. “This Zhong Yan is invaluable. Contact him. I want to meet him personally.”

“That… might be difficult,” Zhou Ze admitted. “Zhong Yan posted an announcement last night. He isn’t taking commercial offers for the time being.”

“A temporary hiatus is not a permanent refusal,” Lu Tingshen said smoothly. “This gap is actually an opportunity for us.”

“The problem is… he’s unreachable. He has no public identity, and his only contact is a work email that isn’t being answered. According to my sources, every major studio has emailed him, but no one has received a reply.”

Lu Tingshen frowned. “Is there truly no one who can reach him?”

“There is one person. Xu You, the producer at Yuandian. He worked on both of Zhong Yan’s adaptations. They are said to be quite close. But since we are rivals, Yuandian won’t give us his contact info.”

Lu Tingshen fell silent. He was a man driven by the desire to conquer; the more difficult something was to obtain, the more it interested him. “I will find a way to reach Zhong Yan myself.”

He moved the meeting along. “Next. The Talent Department. Director Lu, what are your plans for our future growth?”

Lu Mingqiu, still stinging from the earlier rebuke, spoke with a sarcastic edge. “I wouldn’t dare have ‘plans.’ I’ll follow whatever the President says.”

Lu Tingshen despised his uncle. He hated incompetence, but he hated arrogant incompetence even more. Under Lu Mingqiu, the talent department had only produced one major star in three years: Yu Junran. Since then, the department had been a string of failed idol groups.

Worse, Lu Tingshen knew Yu Junran was Lu Mingqiu’s nephew. The company was pouring massive resources into an artist whose popularity was actively declining, effectively blocking the path for newer, more talented male artists. It was a classic case of nepotism and poor business strategy.

“Since Director Lu has no thoughts, listen to mine,” Lu Tingshen said, ignoring the attitude. “We will allocate resources fairly and diversify our roster. We stop betting everything on one artist. Also, we need to aggressively recruit rising stars.”

He paused, a thought occurring to him. “I heard that the lead from Hating the Spring Breeze, Yan Shi, still hasn’t signed with an agency?”

It was normal for a stuntman-turned-actor to be unsigned before a hit, but it had been two months since the show ended. For a top-tier star to still be a free agent was unheard of.

At the mention of Yan Shi, Lu Mingqiu’s expression shifted. His anger vanished, replaced by a strange, wary look. “I don’t know,” he replied.

“You don’t know?” Lu Tingshen’s brow shot up. “Has Dingming not contacted him?”

To let a “top-tier” free agent sit there without an offer was a level of stupidity that baffled him.

Lu Mingqiu hesitated for a long time before speaking. “There’s no point in contacting him. We cannot sign Yan Shi.”

“Why not?”

“He has dirt on him,” Lu Mingqiu whispered. “Serious, career-ending dirt.”