The Vicious Female Supporting Character Goes Viral After Her Masks Drop During the Talent Show - Chapter 47

The Dingming CEO’s Office.

The livestream had ended. Outside, the sky had turned ink-black; inside the silent office, it was pitch dark.

Lu Tingshen sat submerged in that darkness. Before his eyes, her image lingered—her self-deprecation, her bitter smiles, her anger, and her sorrow. He could still see her smiling through the shimmer of unshed tears. These visions haunted him, refusing to dissipate.

Suddenly, Lu Tingshen picked up his phone. He opened WeChat, found Zhong Yan’s profile, and began typing in the dialogue box.

He wanted to explain the past to her. He was truly sorry that, in their youth, he hadn’t empathized with her feelings or cherished her devotion. He typed a long message, only to delete it character by character after a long silence.

Then, he wanted to explain the present. Since their reunion, he had never intended to hurt her; he simply didn’t know how to redeem the mistakes of his youth. That day, when she asked why he wouldn’t agree to the breakup, he had lied.

The real reason was—

The cursor blinked at the end of the sentence, waiting for the words that remained unwritten. Yet, Lu Tingshen could not bring himself to type those final three words.

Once again, he cleared the text. He typed and deleted, deleted and typed. Time slipped away, leaving the chat box empty.

In his mind, one version of himself desperately yearned to pour his heart out to her. But another self—arrogant and proud—constantly blocked him, tormented him, and questioned him.

Is it truly worth it to cast aside your dignity to beg for love? Is there any meaning in it? Is it… already too late?

Lu Tingshen closed his eyes in agony. After an unknown amount of time, he opened them, exited WeChat, and went to his contacts. He found Zhong Yan’s name. He hovered his finger over the call button, just a single millimeter away.

After saying her goodbyes and ending the stream, Zhong Yan thanked the staff members one by one. She then walked over to Li Xing to inquire about the public response to the broadcast.

Zhang Jing watched her. Just moments ago, she had been overflowing with emotion, her eyes brimming with tears. The moment the camera cut, she had transformed. The tears vanished instantly, replaced by a calm, composed expression focused entirely on the metrics.

It was as if that soul-stirring speech had been nothing more than a flawless, lifelike performance.

Zhang Jing didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh. Should he call her heartless and cold-blooded, or highly rational with peerless emotional control? One thing was certain: this girl had the temperament of a true power player.

Li Xing reported from her iPad, “So far, the results are excellent. The three points you wanted to address are developing exactly as planned.”

“First, the narrative regarding your withdrawal is shifting.”

Zhang Jing leaned in to browse the comments section. Indeed, the demands for her to quit were being drowned out by a surge of support.

“What do you mean ‘return to life behind the scenes’? Don’t scare me! Teacher Zhong is not allowed to quit! Stay on that stage forever!”

“No one wants you to leave. We want you to stay! You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re amazing—just be yourself, loud and proud!”

“I, the Emperor, decree that she must stay! If the haters want to bark, bark at me instead!”

Zhang Jing finally understood. Zhong Yan had deliberately left her future in the competition ambiguous to hand the power over to the audience. By giving the audience the “right” to speak, she created the space for a public backlash against her parents’ wishes.

When the public pushed back, she would only need to “passively accept” their will and “obediently” stay on the stage. No one could criticize her then, because the decision belonged to the fans.

A masterstroke, Zhang Jing thought. Using the voice of the crowd to achieve her own ends without lifting a finger.

Li Xing continued, “Second, we’ve successfully triggered a conversation about women’s rights and social issues.” She showed Zhong Yan several trending discussions.

“From the stream, it sounds like her parents and fiancé decided to marry her off without her consent? How is that different from human trafficking?”

“I never expected a ‘rich, young miss’ to face forced marriage too. I thought only ordinary girls like me faced this pressure. I suddenly feel a strange sense of sisterhood with her…”

“If we guide this correctly,” Li Xing noted, “it will soon become a major social talking point. This direction is very favorable for us.”

“Finally, public resentment toward Wensheng Group and Dingming Group is rising. More voices are condemning them for the forced marriage. This will be a massive help in dissolving your engagement.”

Zhong Yan nodded, satisfied. She looked at Zhang Jing. “Is PD Zhang satisfied with the livestream?”

“Satisfied? I’m thrilled!” Zhang Jing beamed. “Teacher Zhong, you’re incredible. A thirty-minute chat and you’ve flipped the script. Truly, you’ve moved a mountain with a feather.”

By elevating the show’s theme to “women’s rights”—the hottest topic of the moment—she had given Best Girls a new level of prestige. How could Zhang Jing not be satisfied?

Zhong Yan smiled faintly. “PD Zhang flatters me. I simply told the truth in a way people like to hear.”

Who says the truth has to be bitter? she thought. The truth can be made to sound very sweet indeed.

Zhong Yan patted Li Xing’s shoulder. “Sister Xing, I’ll leave the rest to you.” Releasing the topic matrix, monitoring the heat, and ensuring the narrative continued to ferment in her favor were crucial follow-up tasks.

“Don’t worry,” Li Xing said. “But… are you sure about your parents? Is it really okay?”

If Zhong Yan was the hero of this narrative, Wensheng Group had to be the villain. Since Wensheng was her family business, Li Xing wanted to ensure Zhong Yan didn’t mind the negative impact on the company.

Zhong Yan waved it off dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. Proceed as planned.”

In Wensheng Group, the majority shares were held by Zhong Jiamao and Shi Qian, with a small portion reserved for her younger brother, Zhong Yang. Zhong Yan held nothing. The family’s wealth had nothing to do with her, and she had no intention of relying on them in the future. She couldn’t care less if the company was dragged through the mud; in fact, she would be happy to see them go bankrupt.

Zhong Yan left the practice room after finishing her business with Li Xing. On her way back to the dorms, she avoided the shortcuts and took the main road.

The main road passed the front gate of the training base, where “fansites” and photographers were still camped out. Zhong Yan slowed her pace.

The night air was immediately filled with the rapid-fire clicking of camera shutters, interspersed with fans shouting words of encouragement and comfort. Zhong Yan waved and bowed toward the voices.

The cheers grew louder, and the cameras clicked even faster. Zhong Yan knew these photos and videos would be uploaded to the web within minutes. She needed them. She needed to show gratitude to her supporters and stabilize the “fandom” to boost their morale. After this ordeal, her fan base would be indestructible.

She turned the corner toward the dormitory entrance, moving out of the range of the long-distance lenses. Just as she stepped into the building, the phone in her pocket vibrated violently.

Someone was calling.