The Vicious Female Supporting Character Goes Viral After Her Masks Drop During the Talent Show - Chapter 46

“Hello everyone, I am Zhong Yan. I am very happy to meet you all through this livestream today. I especially want to thank those of you who ‘picked’ me; because of you, I have this precious opportunity to speak with you directly.”

In his hotel room, Xu You was eating takeout while watching the broadcast.

The Zhong Yan on the screen today was a world away from the woman who had performed in the third public evaluation. The “demon” had transformed into an angel, her entire being radiating a soft, sacred light. Xu You chuckled to himself, curious to see what tricks she had up her sleeve this time.

Since this was her first appearance after the scandal broke, the livestream room was packed with a chaotic mix of viewers. Although fans were flooding the chat with support, unfriendly comments demanding her withdrawal still flickered across the screen.

On the screen, Zhong Yan leaned forward slightly, her eyes lowered as if she were carefully reading the comments. After a moment—perhaps seeing something hurtful—her gaze flickered. She lowered her eyelashes and let out a faint, lonely smile.

“Some things have happened recently. I have seen your concern for me, and I’ve also seen the questions many of you have. Today, I want to use this chance to talk—to talk about myself, and to share what is truly in my heart.”

Zhong Yan’s smile deepened. “This is something I have been looking forward to for a very long time.”

“The story isn’t complicated, but it is long. I’ll start from the beginning.”

Zhong Yan’s gaze toward the camera was calm and sincere, as if she were reminiscing about her life with a close friend. Her tone was plain and unassuming, as though she were merely telling someone else’s story.

“I was indeed born into a wealthy family. But in my parents’ eyes, I was never a ‘good’ daughter, because I could never satisfy them.”

“When I was very young, my parents arranged a marriage for me. From that moment on, they told me that my future consisted of marrying that boy—to be a virtuous wife and a good mother. They said I should learn to get along with him, learn to please him, and learn to make him like me. That, they said, was the only dream I should ever have.”

“I was too young then to see the future. I didn’t understand what a ‘dream’ was, and I didn’t even know who ‘I’ was. I only knew how to obey my parents.”

“But I disappointed them. Because I could never win that boy’s favor; I could only earn his annoyance.”

“Perhaps I was too stupid. Or perhaps, deep down, I was unwilling to do those things. Like a disobedient child, I always made a mess of everything.”

“I can’t say for sure what the reason was. I only know that as a child, my parents always scolded me for being useless. I lived in a daze, feeling like I was worth nothing.”

In the CEO’s office, Lu Tingshen watched as Zhong Yan finished speaking and gave a light, self-deprecating laugh. It was a look of utter desolation.

That smile made his heart ache, his chest tightening until it was hard to breathe. For the first time in all these years, he was hearing Zhong Yan speak of her feelings from back then.

Lu Tingshen only remembered that when she was young, she was always looking at him with eager eyes, chasing after him, trying to talk to him and make him happy. It had seemed as if he were her entire world.

At the time, Lu Tingshen never valued that devotion. He only found it irritating, viewing her as a puppet without a soul of her own. Because of that, he rarely showed her a kind face.

Looking back now, he realized that whenever he gave her the cold shoulder, her parents would do the same. But back then, he hadn’t cared. He never knew how she felt, nor had he ever wanted to know.

Not until this moment did he realize she had never been a soulless puppet. She felt loss, heartbreak, and insecurity. Someone had simply locked her inside a puppet’s shell, forbidding her from showing her true self.

Outside the window, the sky was dark. The unlit office grew even gloomier. Lu Tingshen closed his eyes, wondering if it was all too late. Now that those eyes no longer looked toward him with longing, he finally understood her sorrow. Was it already too late?

“When I grew older, I developed my own thoughts and started to find things I loved,” Zhong Yan continued.

“I loved singing and dancing, and I loved to write. My mind was always full of wild imagination, dreaming up all sorts of stories. I began to understand a bit of what a ‘dream’ meant, and I wanted to study for it.”

“But my parents didn’t support me. They said a girl didn’t need too many ideas—that marriage and childbearing were a girl’s true dream and destiny. They wanted me to focus on getting married and fulfilling the contract.”

“By then, I had become ‘cunning.’ I lied to my parents, saying I wanted to learn to sing and dance just to please my fiancé. Only then did they agree.”

“After going to university and leaving home, I gained more freedom. I started writing behind my parents’ back and publishing secretly online. That was the turning point of my life.”

Inside the speeding van, the scenery outside was a blur. Yan Shi didn’t see it; his entire focus was concentrated on the small phone screen and the girl within it.

In the livestream, Zhong Yan’s tone became slightly more cheerful. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Seeing her smile, Yan Shi’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly. The unpleasant people and events seemed to fade away with the passing scenery.

“I didn’t expect my stories to attract so many people. I didn’t know my words could make people laugh, cry, find resonance, or provide comfort—or even just give someone tired of life a moment to relax.”

“This made me feel incredibly happy. It made me feel like I wasn’t useless after all. I felt like… I was actually okay.”

“Through my writing, I met many readers I’ve never seen but whose souls are connected to mine. In that process, I came to know myself better and better.”

“Many readers used to ask why I never held book signings or showed my face. They asked if I didn’t want to communicate with them.”

Zhong Yan shook her head with a bitter smile. “It’s not that I didn’t want to. I didn’t dare.”

“I didn’t dare let my parents know I was becoming an author. I was terrified that the ‘self’ I had finally found, and the small world I had painstakingly built, would be destroyed the moment my identity was exposed.”

As she said this, the bitterness in her smile deepened. Yan Shi saw her tilt her head back slightly, blinking rapidly to force back tears.

Tears could be forced back into the eyes, but where were the burning bitterness and pain supposed to go? Back into her heart?

Yan Shi’s brow tightened again. He made a decision instantly. He looked toward the front of the van and called out to his assistant, Wang Li.

“Wang Li.”

“Yeah, brother? What is it?”

Back in the practice room, the display of sadness was brief. Zhong Yan quickly composed herself and looked into the camera.

“The experience of writing made me realize that I am not destined only to be a wife and a mother. On the contrary, I can try anything. I can pursue any dream. ‘I’ can become whoever I want to be.”

“So, I hid it from my parents again and secretly joined Best Girls.”

“Before joining the show, I had a serious conversation with my fiancé. We reached an agreement to cancel the engagement. I was very happy, and after that, I devoted myself entirely to the competition.”

“The three months I’ve spent at Best Girls have been the happiest of my life. This place is like a paradise of dreams, a utopia for girls. Here, girls can shine on stage, boldly display their ambition, and bravely pursue their dreams. Every girl here is a ‘best girl’.”

“Because of the sisters I’ve fought alongside, because of every shout from the audience, because of the lights on the stage, and because of these growing dreams, I no longer feel useless. I feel that I have truly found myself—and I have fallen in love with myself.”

A look of lingering longing and reluctance flickered in her eyes.

“I was so immersed in this beauty that I neglected the shackles of my family and my parents’ intentions. I also failed to notice the changes happening in the outside world.”

“So when I first heard the news, I was stunned. I felt angry and sad. I didn’t understand why something that had been agreed upon was being retracted, or why my life was being decided for me without my consent.”

“But I soon found peace.”

“Because I realized I am no longer that lost little girl. I already know who ‘I’ am. No one can force me to be someone else anymore—not even my parents.”

At this point, the comments section shifted. The malicious remarks dwindled. In their place, many passers-by who had come for the drama were touched by her confession. Moved to sympathy, they left messages of comfort and encouragement.

Zhong Yan glanced at the time; it was almost over. She gave a firm, resolute smile. She didn’t explicitly state whether she would stay in the competition or withdraw, instead choosing to speak with meaningful ambiguity.

“After everything that has happened, I understand that everyone has their own opinions—whether you like me or hate me, whether you want me to stay or leave.”

“But regardless, I don’t regret coming to Best Girls, and I don’t regret any of my previous decisions.”

“In the future, whether I remain on this stage or return to life behind the scenes—whether I use words, song, or any other medium—I will persist in pursuing the career I love and tirelessly create good work for everyone.”

“I will work hard to overcome all obstacles. I hope that one day, I will no longer have to hide, but can stand before you with pride and introduce myself—”

Zhong Yan sat up straight and bowed deeply and solemnly to everyone watching. When she looked up, her eyes shimmered with sincere tears, and a brilliant smile broke across her face.

“Hello, I am Zhong Yan. Thank you for knowing me. And thank you to every unique one of you who has helped me discover myself along the way.”