The Vicious Female Supporting Character Goes Viral After Her Masks Drop During the Talent Show - Chapter 4

It was a bright afternoon at the Orchid Island Film and Television Town.

A long line of girls snaked through the corridor outside the studio, waiting for their turn to shoot. Although they had officially joined the cast, filming for the “First Stage” performance had not yet begun. These past few days were dedicated to pre-production—mostly promotional materials like “Formula Photos” (official profile shots) and personal introduction videos.

Today’s shoot focused on the “First Impression” theme photos, which would be used for the show’s early marketing campaign.

The shoot followed a strict schedule. Trainees from the same company were grouped together, with each group allotted roughly 20 minutes. Throughout the day, groups rotated through the dressing rooms for styling before heading to the corridor to wait. This system was designed to keep the flow manageable and prevent overcrowding.

However, the corridor was currently becoming congested. Several groups were already backed up, waiting. The reason was simple: the group currently inside had been there for an hour and still hadn’t emerged.

The 3:00 PM sun beat down through the glass windows, making the air stiflingly hot.

A girl with short hair frowned, leaning back into the shade of the inner wall. She complained to her teammate, Mimi, with clear irritation, “Which company is in there? Why are they taking so long?”

“I think it’s Dingming Entertainment.”

The short-haired girl and Mimi exchanged a glance. The former muttered a quiet “No wonder” and fell silent.

Among the 100 contestants, the competition was called “fair,” but in reality, a hierarchy had been established from the moment they arrived. Trainees from big companies were prioritized by the production crew and received much better treatment. As trainees from small companies with no significant backing, they were naturally unhappy, but they had to endure it.

In the entertainment industry, a newcomer cannot afford to offend anyone.

However, they weren’t the ones who had been waiting the longest. Mimi glanced at the girl standing at the front of the line. She was the next slot after Dingming and had likely been waiting for nearly an hour.

The girl was alone. Mimi sized her up: she was exceptionally beautiful, but her face was unfamiliar.

Contestants usually did their homework—checking which big-name trainees were participating, identifying famous influencers, or spotting “re-packaged” veterans (former idols). Even if they didn’t know the names, the trainee circle was small; someone usually knew someone.

But this beautiful girl didn’t look like a familiar face from the trainee circuit, nor did she match the descriptions of the “hot” contestants rumored to be joining.

Curiosity got the better of Mimi. She lightly tapped the girl on the shoulder.

Zhong Yan had been lost in thought. She turned around to find a girl smiling at her.

“Hi! Sister, which company are you with?” Mimi asked.

The other girls in the corridor, bored from waiting, turned their attention toward Zhong Yan. They had all been observing her silently, curious because a girl with such striking looks should have been a well-known “hot” prospect, yet no one recognized her.

Feeling the weight of their gaze, Zhong Yan offered a calm, polite smile. “I’m an independent trainee.”

Zhong Yan had registered for the competition as an independent and had not disclosed any other affiliations to the production team.

“Oh, an independent trainee…”

A few more girls joined the conversation, chatting while subtly digging for information. They wanted to see if she had a hidden background, secret capital backing, or powerful connections. However, after a round of probing, they realized there was nothing to find. Zhong Yan was a standard “Triple-No” contestant.

No company, no background, no buzz.

She had no professional management, no hidden investors pushing her, and no existing social media following. She was a “nobody.”

The girls’ interest immediately evaporated. The focused stares dispersed; a few offered a polite word or two, but most stopped wasting their time on her. They had assumed she was a “hidden ace” worth buttering up early.

After all, a popular contestant is a valuable resource to “leech” off of. If you’re on good terms with a star, you might end up in the same group, gaining more screen time and higher scores. If you’re lucky enough to establish a “friendship line” or a “CP” (couple pairing) with a fan favorite, your popularity could skyrocket, carrying you straight into a debut spot.

But a “Triple-No” had no utility. Such contestants were almost always “cannon fodder,” destined to be eliminated in the first round.

Case in point: the Dingming Entertainment trainees could spend an hour on their photos, but when it was Zhong Yan’s turn, she’d likely be rushed through in two minutes. The entertainment industry was just that snobbish and cold.

After another wait, the studio door finally creaked open. Everyone looked up.

The Dingming Entertainment trainees were the focus of everyone’s attention. Dingming had sent three girls this year. Two were former members of a girl group under the label: Tian Jingyu and An Tao. The third was a newly signed rookie named Xia Meng.

When the door opened, only An Tao and Xia Meng stepped out. Tian Jingyu was nowhere to be seen. From inside the room, her voice could be heard talking to the staff, apparently giving detailed instructions about photo retouching.

Seeing the crowd in the corridor, An Tao looked uneasy and apologetic. She leaned back into the room and whispered cautiously, “Jingyu, we’ve delayed everyone for too long. Let’s hurry up a bit.”

Tian Jingyu gave a non-committal “Oh,” but didn’t actually move any faster.

Feeling awkward, An Tao turned to the waiting girls and bowed. “I’m so sorry! I’m sorry for making you all wait so long. We’ll be done in just a moment.”

Beside her, Xia Meng—who had been dazed, still immersed in the feeling of the shoot—snapped out of it when she heard the apology and followed suit, bowing as well.

The other contestants didn’t dare show any anger. They put on warm, understanding faces, saying “It’s fine” and “Don’t worry about it.” In their eyes, Tian Jingyu and An Tao were popular veterans and top contenders for the “Center” position. These were people to be befriended at all costs. As for the dazed-looking rookie Xia Meng, she was likely just a “placeholder” or “study buddy”—even a company as big as Dingming couldn’t expect all three girls to debut.

An Tao looked at Zhong Yan, who was at the front of the line, and felt even more guilty. “You must have waited a long time. I am truly, truly sorry.”

Feeling that a verbal apology wasn’t enough, and seeing that Zhong Yan was alone, An Tao asked, “Are you an independent trainee?”

Zhong Yan nodded.

An Tao offered a friendly smile. “Competing alone must be lonely. If you ever need any help, feel free to come find us!”

The surrounding girls sighed. Some marveled at how easy-going An Tao seemed, while others envied Zhong Yan’s luck. A “Triple-No” had actually managed to form a connection with a star contestant due to a delay.

Zhong Yan looked up and saw total sincerity in An Tao’s eyes. She smiled back.

“Thank you. If you ever need help, you can come find me, too.”

The girls nearby stifled laughs, mocking Zhong Yan in their heads for being naive and foolish. What could a “Triple-No” possibly do to help a top-tier trainee?

Zhong Yan said it for two reasons. First, she felt An Tao was a genuinely good person. Second, she knew that in the future, An Tao would definitely need help.

The other contestants’ guesses about the Dingming trio were only half right. According to the original plot of the story, two of the three would debut, but it wouldn’t be An Tao and Tian Jingyu. It would be Xia Meng and Tian Jingyu.

Xia Meng, the female lead, was following the “Rookie Underdog” script—overcoming the odds through hard work to seize the Center spot. Tian Jingyu was the “Big Boss” antagonist and Xia Meng’s professional rival.

An Tao, however, was the true “placeholder” destined for elimination. Of course, the current An Tao had no idea what her fate held.

At that moment, Tian Jingyu finally walked out of the studio. She glanced at Zhong Yan, then at An Tao, and said coldly, “You were rushing me so much, yet here you are chatting? Let’s go. Don’t block the people behind us.”

She walked off without waiting. An Tao hurriedly waved “bye” to Zhong Yan and dragged Xia Meng along to catch up.

Once they were out of earshot, Tian Jingyu shot a resentful look at An Tao. “I told you not to talk to those ‘nobodies.’ Be careful, or they’ll all try to cling to you and suck the life out of your popularity.”

An Tao remained silent. Having been in the same group as Tian Jingyu before, she knew her temperament. If she argued, Jingyu would only lose her temper. An Tao didn’t want to fight; they were colleagues and teammates, and she wanted them to stay united.

Xia Meng, unfamiliar with Tian Jingyu’s personality, couldn’t help but retort, “Everyone is equal here. You shouldn’t just look down on people.”

Tian Jingyu rolled her eyes. “They might be equal to you, but they aren’t to me.”

Xia Meng froze, realizing Tian Jingyu was calling her a “nobody” as well. “Why are you being so mean?”

Tian Jingyu smirked. “The truth is often mean.”

Seeing the tension rise, An Tao quickly grabbed Xia Meng to stop the argument. Tian Jingyu didn’t feel like wasting any more words on someone like Xia Meng. she quickened her pace and walked ahead.

Tian Jingyu knew the reality: the company sent three people, but she was the main focus. She was guaranteed to debut. A stupid rookie like Xia Meng was just there to fill the numbers and act as a backup dancer for her first stage.

Xu You walked into the spacious recording studio. The staff of Best Girls were busy preparing for the filming of the “First Stage” the day after tomorrow. The show’s producer, Zhang Jing, was also on site, looking haggard and stressed.

“Brother, what’s got you looking so miserable?”

Xu You strolled over casually and patted Zhang Jing on the shoulder. “You successfully signed Yan Shi as the show’s Mentor/Initiator. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Zhang Jing turned around, his face brightening slightly. “Oh, you’re early.”

The two had planned to get dinner that evening, but Xu You had arrived in the afternoon.

“Of course. It’s rare for a busy man like you to treat me to dinner as a thank you. I had to come early so you could thank me a little longer.” Xu You gave a mischievous, lopsided grin. In truth, he was just bored and looking for a place to hang out.

“Yes, yes, I really do need to thank you,” Zhang Jing laughed. “The situation with Yan Shi was all thanks to your recommendation.”

Since Yan Shi had become a massive star, many variety shows had reached out to him. However, he was low-key, introverted, and not particularly fond of variety shows, so he had turned most of them down. Zhang Jing had only succeeded because Xu You acted as the middleman. As the producer of Hate the Spring Breeze, Xu You was something of a mentor to Yan Shi, and Yan Shi felt he owed him the favor.

“You’re my brother. It’s only right that I look out for you,” Xu You quipped, the two of them sharing a look of mutual understanding.

Xu You was 23, and Zhang Jing was 36. They weren’t biological brothers, but Xu You’s mother, Xu Ying, was a legendary senior producer in the industry, and Zhang Jing was her protégé. Zhang Jing had known Xu You since he was a ten-year-old kid. He had basically watched him grow up; their bond was closer than blood.

“Now that you have Yan Shi, you don’t have to worry about the show’s buzz. So why the long face?”

“Sigh. Idol survival shows are different from other variety programs. Celebrity guests are important for initial interest, but if you want a show to truly go viral, the contestants are the key.” Zhang Jing’s brow furrowed again.

Xu You asked, “What, is the quality of the trainees bad this year?”

“Not exactly. They were all carefully selected. We have all the standard types: big company trainees, former idols, survival show veterans, influencers, and so on.” Zhang Jing picked up a thick stack of registration forms and flipped through them. “I just feel… it’s not enough.”

Best Girls was a major project for the “Guanke” streaming platform this year. It was also the first variety project Zhang Jing had taken on since being promoted to Vice President of Guanke. He was ambitious; he wanted a mega-hit. But with the market saturated with survival shows, audiences were becoming harder to please. He was worried that the same old tropes would bore them.

Xu You nodded. “I get it. You’re missing a contestant with a fresh, headline-grabbing narrative.”

“Exactly.” Zhang Jing patted Xu You’s shoulder. “You always get me.”

“But recording starts soon. The roster is set in stone. I’m just worrying for nothing now.” Zhang Jing sighed, tossing the forms back onto the table. “I just hope Yan Shi’s star power can pull in enough traffic.”

Just then, a staff member came over to confirm something, and Zhang Jing stepped away to manage the issue. Not wanting to disturb him, Xu You picked up the stack of forms to kill time.

He flipped through them quickly and carelessly, just looking for a bit of amusement.

Suddenly, his finger stopped.

He pulled out one specific form and stared at the photo and the name. He checked it several times to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

When Zhang Jing finished his work and walked back, he saw Xu You dazed, holding the form. He joked, “Which girl caught Producer Xu’s eye? What, you want to sign her to your Origin Entertainment?”

As he spoke, Zhang Jing leaned over to look.

The form Xu You was holding belonged to a girl named “Zhong Yan,” an independent trainee. Zhang Jing noted that besides being beautiful, her resume didn’t have anything noteworthy on it.

Xu You, however, suddenly became excited. A mysterious smile played on his lips.

“Brother, I’ve just done you another huge favor. If you don’t go all out for tonight’s thank-you dinner, I’m not going to let this go.”