Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The moment Wen Xiaowen asked the question, the live stream exploded.

"Holy shit, what does the chubby kid mean? Did Wen Zhi drop out in seventh grade?"

"Didn’t someone say before that Wen Zhi graduated in medicine or traditional Chinese culture studies? How did it turn into not even graduating middle school?"

"Wen Xiaowen is Wen Zhi’s uncle’s child. Why did he suddenly pop up to ask this? Did he hear it from the adults at home? So Wen Zhi really dropped out in seventh grade?"

"No way, Wen Zhi’s family is so rich. She could’ve gone to any university she wanted."

"Why not? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Wen Bingchun mentioned before that Wen Zhi was missing for years. Combined with the early deaths of Wen’s parents, maybe Wen Zhi really misbehaved in school, dropped out, got tricked by some scumbag into getting pregnant, and ended up causing her parents’ deaths."

"Disgusting. No education but still acts like some expert on the show, faking a genius persona. Probably teaching the kids about herbs and antiques was all scripted. The production team bent over backwards, even bringing in Duan Chengsi to hype her up. The whole 'Baby! 2' is clearly pushing her."

"Hahaha, damn capitalism. Money sure is great. Guess she’s shifting from failed romance to conquering the workplace now. So rich yet still faking personas to make money."

The live chat was flooded with all kinds of comments. The Gardenias tried to defend her but were quickly drowned out by the backlash. It felt like some invisible force was monitoring the situation in real-time, steering the narrative in a negative direction.

Meanwhile, the kids remained oblivious to the bloodbath in the live chat and continued their conversation.

Mu Mu froze for a moment, seemingly confused by Wen Xiaowen’s question. After Wen Xiaowen repeated it, he answered blankly, "There’s no school where we’re from. Mom couldn’t go to school." But Mother read a lot in the palace and learned many things.

Wen Xiaowen immediately followed up, "Then why didn’t your mom come here to study? It’s just a short plane ride."

Mu Mu explained, "We only had horse carriages where we lived. Mom and I stayed in a big house, and others wouldn’t let us leave. There was no way to go to school."

Wen Xiaowen let out an "Oh" but still seemed uneasy. "Then your mom must’ve had it rough. Was it your dad who wouldn’t let you leave?"

Mu Mu thought for a moment and nodded. Without the Emperor’s orders, we really couldn’t leave the palace.

The two little kids talked past each other for a long time, completely misunderstanding each other.

The trolls in the live chat grew even more frenzied after hearing their exchange.

"Damn, I knew it! Wen Zhi must’ve been tricked by some scumbag into living in the mountains and having a kid."

"Flies don’t bother with an uncracked egg. Wen the good-for-nothing must’ve been trouble herself to get tricked like that."

"So, the scumbag and the lowlife woman are a pair? Those who pitied Wen Zhi before must feel pretty stupid now."

Right at this moment, the internet was suddenly flooded with black material on Wen Zhi.

Her failing transcripts from elementary to middle school, photos of her being punished for tardiness and skipping class, pictures of her hanging out with delinquents, and her official school records listing her dropout status.

Finally, there was even a sponsorship contract between Wen Zhi and the production team, clearly stating in black and white that Wen Zhi invested two million for her and her son to join the show.

The trolls came back with a vengeance, attacking Wen Zhi from their moral high ground.

"Sickening, look, your beloved Sister Zhi is just trash. Bad grades, tardiness, skipping class, dropping out, teenage romance—she’s practically a juvenile hoodlum."

"Who cares if she’s rich? Her character is questionable. How can anyone like someone like this? Disgusting!"

"I knew Wen Zhi bought her way into the show. The whole program is hyping her and Mu Mu. Capitalism is truly the worst. Poor Ji-gege and Movie Queen Liu having to be sidelined for her and getting screwed over by her every time."

"Did Wen Zhi’s parents die because of her? The Wen family probably isn’t as powerful as before. All that showy grandeur must just be a façade."

"If Wen Zhi is really this terrible, the production team owes the fans an explanation. Tainted celebrities don’t deserve to be on the show. We won’t watch the live stream if Wen Zhi stays." "Won’t watch if Wen Zhi stays +1."

"Boycotting the livestream +10086"

The chaos in the live chat wasn’t enough—haters and misinformed netizens took the drama to Weibo, bombarding Wen Zhi’s account, the show’s official page, and even the Wen Group’s official page.

While others were still asleep, Director Fang was the first to receive the news. After careful consideration, he posted a statement on the show’s official Weibo:

"*Baby! 2* does not favor Wen Zhi in any way. The crew had no prior knowledge of Wen Zhi’s connections. Wen Zhi’s sponsorship of the show was conducted normally. We ask fans not to jump to conclusions."

However, netizens weren’t buying it, convinced the show had been bought off.

Seeing the overwhelming backlash, the production team could only let the situation unfold for the time being.

Lin Jiyao’s agent urgently called him, warning him not to make any rash statements and to distance himself from Wen Zhi.

That’s showbiz for you—cutthroat and full of opportunists. No matter how close the relationship, getting involved carelessly could easily backfire.

Lin Jiyao gave a noncommittal "Hm." Unsure if he’d actually listened, the agent repeated the warning. Yet, the moment the call ended, Lin Jiyao updated his Weibo:

Lin Jiyao: Wen Zhi’s solid. She didn’t claw her way up by stepping on others. The reason I hadn’t held concerts was due to a wrist injury that prevented me from playing piano. When I was poisoned by mushrooms, Wen Zhi saved me and fixed my hand in the process. Thank you, Wen Zhi. @WenZhi, don’t let the rumors hurt you. I believe in you.

The agent, livid, tried calling again, but Lin Jiyao ignored it. Given their past dating rumors, this was the worst time to publicly support her—was he trying to torch his own career?

Meanwhile, Liu Yiru also received a call from her agent, advising her to keep her distance from Wen Zhi during the next recording and to stop letting Mu Mu call her "godmother," or risk tanking her comeback.

Liu Yiru, still unclear about the situation, calmly replied after browsing Weibo: "No discussion—I’m standing with her."

Despite her agent’s desperate pleas, Liu Yiru hung up and immediately followed Lin Jiyao’s post with her own:

Liu Yiru: Wen Zhi is straightforward, sincere, and my lifelong best friend. She never climbed over anyone. Everyone has a past, but making up shit is crossing a line—legal consequences await. @WenZhi, if you can take the hate, you’ll handle the love. Stay strong!

Their public support swayed public opinion slightly—until Wen Bingchun also posted:

Wen Bingchun: Please be kind to Xiao Zhi. Dropping out in middle school wasn’t her fault—she’s worked hard since. @WenZhi, ignore the noise. Your sister will always stand with you.

Public opinion, already shaky, now blew up like a dumpster fire, spiraling out of control.

"Damn, confirmed—Wen Zhi *did* drop out in seventh grade!"

"Regardless of the reason, her past misconduct is real. A tiger can’t change its stripes—her attitude toward Wen Bingchun says it all."

Hashtags like #WenZhiDroppedOut, #WenZhiBoughtTheShow, and #WenZhiScammedIntoMotherhood quickly trended.

Lin Jiyao put away his phone and wore a hole in his carpet pacing before finally heading to Wen Zhi’s suite—only to find Liu Yiru already outside. They exchanged a glance, the same worry mirrored in their eyes.

Liu Yiru spoke first: "I messaged her. No reply—probably asleep."

Lin Jiyao: "You *sure* she’s asleep?"

Liu Yiru: "...Not really."

Not a peep from inside. After lingering for minutes, they reluctantly returned to their rooms—though both tossed and turned.

By dawn, the hashtag had rocketed to #1 and stayed there.

Meanwhile, Wen Zhi—the center of the storm—slept like a log in her king-sized bed until noon. Showered and changed, she headed downstairs—only to freeze at the sight of a bunch of zombies staring up at her.

Wen Zhi descended, frowning. "Did y’all marathon poker all night? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!"

The production team was speechless: Who else could be so carefree? The emperor isn’t worried, but his servants are frantic!

She glanced around but didn’t spot any cameras. The ones on the second-floor corridor and the first floor were also turned off. She asked in confusion, "It’s this late—are we not streaming today?"

"Where’s Mu Mu?"

Liu Yiru replied, "The assistant took the kids out to play in the yard. The live stream is postponed."

Wen Zhi asked, "Why the delay?"

Director Fang hesitated before finally saying, "Check your VB (social media)."

Wen Zhi walked downstairs, and a staff member immediately brought her a chair. She sat, pulled out her phone, and dove into VB.

Everyone in the inn kept an eye on her expression, worried she might snap or lash out.

Yet Wen Zhi remained calm the entire time, even laughing as she scrolled.

Director Fang thought, "Oh no, did the shock break her?"

Lin Jiyao watched her like a hawk, while Liu Yiru hesitantly asked, "...Are you okay?"

Wen Bingchun reached out to hold Wen Zhi’s hand. "Xiao Zhi, don’t pay attention to the hate online. We’ll film a clarification video later, and I’ll help you clear things up."

Her hand barely grazed Wen Zhi’s before being shoved away.

"Xiao Zhi!" Wen Bingchun flinched like she’d been slapped.

Wen Zhi chuckled. "If words fixed everything, we wouldn’t need cops."

Lin Jiyao and Liu Yiru had publicly supported her, and even Duan Chengsi ripped into the trolls who accused him of collusion.

But what was the use?

The tide had turned—someone was gunning for her.

Just as Wen Zhi was about to put her phone away, a private message popped up.

From 'Ice Beauty’s #1 Fan': "Uh, Wen Zhi, last night some rando messaged me. They said they had major dirt on you and wanted me to expose it. I refused."

Wen Zhi didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she stood up and said to Director Fang, "Keep rolling. I’ll deal with my own mess." With that, she headed upstairs.

"Alright, let’s continue the live stream," Director Fang nodded, then silently cursed himself for obeying Wen Zhi so easily—folks might think he’s on her payroll.

On the third day of filming, the live stream resumed, but the guests kept sneaking looks at the 'VIP room.'

The comments were flooded with questions about Wen Zhi.

"Where’s Wen Zhi? Did she chicken out?"

"Silence equals guilt—case closed?"

"Mu Mu’s not himself. Aw, poor little guy..."

"Wen Zhi, show yourself and explain! Don’t just disappear like this."

Wen Zhi’s fans (the Gardenias) wavered between heartache and dread. While trading blows with haters, they begged her to shake it off and come back.

Everyone wondered what Wen Zhi was doing—was she crying, raging, or too pissed to show her face?

In reality, Wen Zhi was remarkably calm. Having survived over a decade of cutthroat palace schemes, these verbal jabs were like a light sprinkle—incapable of stirring even a hint of emotion in her.

She simply detested a pesky bug buzzing in her face, an annoyance she couldn’t ignore.

Wen Zhi returned to her room, shut the door, and swiftly typed on her phone.

Wen Zhi: "Did you delete that unfamiliar Weibo account?"

Ice Beauty’s Hardcore Fan: "No, I didn’t."

Wen Zhi: "Do me a solid—keep this account talking and string them along for five minutes." She had expected it would take some effort or even incentives to get the other party to agree.

To her surprise, ‘Ice Beauty’s Hardcore Fan’ replied without hesitation: "Sure. You had my back before, so I’ll definitely string them along for five minutes."

Wen Zhi was puzzled: "When did I have your back?" She’d taken legal action against them before, and letting it go didn’t exactly count as a favor.

Ice Beauty’s Hardcore Fan: "A few days ago at the airport, I got knocked over, and you helped me up." She had been chasing after Wen Bingchun at the time, but when she fell, the latter just glanced back and kept walking. In contrast, Wen Zhi—who she’d hated—had pulled her up and gently asked if she was okay.

It hit her then: many people weren’t quite what she had imagined. Wen Bingchun wasn’t as gentle as she appeared on TV, and Wen Zhi wasn’t the confrontational type she’d assumed.

When that anonymous account contacted her last night, she instinctively feared being sued again and had no desire to smear Wen Zhi further. Seeing the flood of dirt about Wen Zhi, she hesitated for a long time before deciding to inform her.

Wen Zhi replied seriously and even politely asked for her help.

She didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Wen Zhi let out an "Oh," remembering now.

The day before yesterday, after their flight landed, a round-faced girl had been knocked down and nearly trampled by fans. She had casually pulled her up—never imagining that girl was ‘Ice Beauty’s Hardcore Fan.’

Talk about irony.

After instructing her on how to chat, Wen Zhi asked her to wait another two minutes, then dialed a saved number on her phone.

The call picked up on the first ring, and a slightly deep, husky voice came through the receiver: "Miss?"

Wen Zhi’s ear burned, and she moved the phone slightly away, asking uncertainly: "Yun Songzhang?"

The other end hummed in affirmation.

Wen Zhi: "Long story short—can you gather the top experts from Wen Corporation’s R&D department to track the exact location of a Weibo account?" The Wen Group was a global leader in computer technology, so tracking someone shouldn’t be difficult.

Besides, Yun Songzhang was unshakably loyal to her father.

The voice on the other end quickly regained its steady, efficient tone: "Yes. Provide the account name."

Wen Zhi then called Uncle Zhong, instructing him to coordinate with the police for an arrest.

She messaged ‘Ice Beauty’s Hardcore Fan’: "You can start messaging now."

Barely hiding her excitement, ‘Ice Beauty’s Hardcore Fan’ began chatting with the anonymous account in her contacts.

Ice Beauty’s Hardcore Fan: "Hello, you mentioned having more dirt on Wen Zhi earlier? I can rally the antifans to attack her again."

The other account didn’t respond immediately, making ‘Ice Beauty’s Hardcore Fan’ anxious. She asked Wen Zhi what to do. Wen Zhi simply hired a massive wave of troll farms to counter the opposing side’s trolls. With money drowning them out, the tide started turning in her favor.

Sure enough, they bit, and soon bit the bait.

The moment they replied, Yun Songzhang’s team was already on it.

'Xiao Gao Gao': "You disagreed before, why the sudden change of heart about going after her?"

'Ice Beauty Loyalist': "I was afraid of being sued again before, but now I see Wen Zhi isn’t that great either. Everyone kicks someone when they're down. She's done for this time. After what she did to me last time, of course I want revenge."

The mark took the bait, and 'Ice Beauty Loyalist' began to engage with them.

Yun Songzhang’s call remained connected, occasionally muttering: "Keep going, almost there, just a bit more..."

Wen Zhi fed 'Ice Beauty Loyalist' live updates: "Keep stalling, one more minute, thirty seconds left..."

'Ice Beauty Loyalist' was riding an adrenaline high for the first time.

Ding! Ding!

Yun Songzhang’s voice rose: "Got it, pinging you the coordinates."

Wen Zhi immediately forwarded the coordinates to Uncle Zhong, thanked 'Ice Beauty Loyalist', and coolly sat down on the Chaise Lounge to sip tea while waiting.

A minute later, she realized Yun Songzhang’s call was still connected. Casually, she asked, "Still on your business trip?"

A hum came from the other end: "In D Country."

Wen Zhi froze: If she remembered correctly, 10 a.m. in China would be 3 a.m. in D Country.

His voice had sounded off earlier—was he asleep?

The man was devoted to her father, working in the middle of the night without complaint.

Wen Zhi apologized, "Sorry for disturbing you. Dinner's on me when you’re back."

"No trouble." Another hum, waiting for her to continue.

Clearly, he wouldn’t hang up unless she did. Wen Zhi thanked him again and ended the call.

Uncle Zhong coordinated with the police in real-time. Soon, the authorities found 'Xiao Gao Gao' in a small apartment in Jiangcheng.

Uncle Zhong called, and Wen Zhi answered.

Urgently, he reported, "Miss Nuannuan, we got her—it’s Miss Bingchun’s assistant, Gao Lan..."

Wen Zhi: "Understood. Send me a copy of the interrogation video and any dirt from her phone."

After receiving the information, Wen Zhi coolly pocketed her phone and went downstairs to join the shoot.

As she reached the staircase, Mu Mu, who had been watching from above, spotted her first. He shouted, "Mama!" and came clattering down to grab her hand.

Everyone on the first floor of the inn was thrown by her unexpected entrance. The live stream chat exploded at the sight of her.

"Ahhhh! My poor baby!"

"Pfft, the audacity."

"The scandal’s still trending—no explanation? I'm boycotting anything with Wen Zhi in it."

"Gross. Thought she was reflecting, but she looks well-rested. Guess trash doesn't feel shame."

The Gardenia stans rushed to defend her.

"After such an ordeal, Sister Zhi still shows up to work—doesn’t that prove her character?"

"The matter isn't settled yet, haters need to chill. It's obvious there are internet trolls targeting our Sister Zhi. Be careful—it could backfire on you."

"Aww, no matter what, we'll always support Sister Zhi. If this industry is too dark, we can just leave—worst case, she can go back to being a landlord."

"Sniff, can we still livestream if she's a landlord? We Gardenias want to see Sister Zhi and adorable Mu Mu all the time."

Mu Mu held Wen Zhi's hand as they walked downstairs. Wen Bingchun smiled and greeted her first: "Xiao Zhi, you're finally here. Someone showed up to challenge me to a cooking duel today, and since you've got a great palate, you're perfect to judge which one tastes better."

When the show started in the morning, a self-proclaimed "No. 1 Gourmet of Peach Blossom Island" came to challenge the cooking skills.

Wen Bingchun, as the inn's chef, accepted the challenge to make mooncakes.

From preparing the filling, kneading the dough, molding, to chilling, she executed everything graceful and efficient, winning continuous cheers from the audience—even the challenger couldn’t help but compliment her.

The finished mooncakes were visually flawless in both appearance or structure. Now, it was all about the taste.

Everyone who participated in the show knew which mooncake was made by Wen Bingchun and which by the challenger. Subjective bias would skew the judgment, so Wen Zhi, who appeared midway, was the most impartial judge.

Moreover, in the first episode, Wen Zhi had proven exceptionally discerning in taste, especially with her ability to distinguish subtle flavors—truly impressive.

Many on-site cast her complicated glances, but she seemed oblivious, maintaining her usual languid demeanor as she casually sat before the two plates of mooncakes.

Two porcelain-white plates held mooncakes of different designs. The one on the left was palm-sized, with a crispy crust and an adorable cat imprint on top—with grape-seed eyes, looking both cute and crunchy.

The one on the right was a translucent red mooncake faintly revealing crushed peach blossom petals. Beneath the petals was a filling that, just from the aroma you could tell, was black sesame, walnut, and black goji berries—looked absolutely gorgeous.

Wen Zhi took a bite of each.

Wen Bingchun eagerly asked, "So, which one tastes better?"

The challenger from Peach Blossom Island also watched her expectantly.

She chewed slowly and deliberately, making the live stream viewers getting antsy before finally remarking, "The right one is good."

"The snowskin carries a subtle peach blossom fragrance. When bitten, releases a cool mist—perfect for summer. The walnut, black sesame, and black goji berry filling is finely ground, silky smooth. The black goji berries balance the sweetness—one bite is just right."

After her review, Wen Bingchun barely contained her excitement and smiled shyly. "The snowskin peach blossom mooncake on the right is mine. Xiao Zhi really knows her flavors."

Wen Zhi then added, "But compared to the right one, I prefer the left. So the left wins."

Wen Bingchun's smile froze. "...You didn’t even critique the left one. How did it win?"

Wen Zhi lifted her gaze, her dark eyes meeting Wen Bingchun’s, and stated matter-of-factly, "Because I hate black sesame filling—especially things that look pretty on the outside but are inky black inside. Just the sight of it makes me sick!"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Everyone glanced between Wen Zhi and Wen Bingchun, sensing the tension was palpable.

Live stream viewers couldn’t help but murmur.

"What does Wen Zhi mean? Is she throwing shade at Wen Bingchun?"

"Gone all morning, then shows up just to snap at her own cousin. Definitely not a good person."

"What about being impartial? You can’t let the challenger win just because you hate black sesame filling."

"Oh-ho, is 'Wen the Useless' finally showing her true colors? Are the rich fake sisters about to go at it?"

"Hahaha, should've done this from the start."

Wen Bingchun was upset but still managed to smile for the camera: "Although I don’t think I lost, I’ll admit defeat. If Xiao Zhi says I lost, then I lost."

The loser had to perform a strange robotic dance.

With flour still on her hands, she danced in front of the national audience. Her expression was full of grievance and sadness, really pitiful to see.

To break the tension, the production team suggested playing a game before lunch.

Four children paired up for rock-paper-scissors. The winning parent would lightly tap palms with the losing parent, and the winning side would get an extra chicken leg for lunch.

Originally, Xiao Xiao and Mu Mu were paired together, but Wen Xiaowen also wanted to team up with Mu Mu. In the end, he traded a large pink peach with Xiao Xiao to switch.

Wen Bingchun had a bad feeling about Wen Zhi today and instinctively wanted to avoid her. She tried to stop her brother but failed.

When the game started, she pulled her brother aside and instructed, "Be smart and pay attention to what Mu Mu plays."

Wen Xiaowen patted his little chest confidently: "Don’t worry, sis. I play rock-paper-scissors all the time and never lose."

Then, in the first round, her hapless brother lost.

Wen Bingchun hesitantly held out her hand and smiled at Wen Zhi: "Xiao Zhi, be gentle, okay?"

Before she could finish, Wen Zhi’s palm struck hers. Though it seemed light, the pain radiated through every finger like they were being split apart.

Her face showed such intense pain that everyone else on set couldn’t help but look over.

"What’s wrong? Wen Zhi didn’t seem to hit her that hard, but the Ice Queen's face is all contorted."

"Is she faking it, or is it really that painful?"

"Force works both ways. Wen Zhi looks completely unfazed, so maybe the Ice Queen is just too delicate."

"Haha, White Lotus vs. Black Lotus—love a good sister showdown."

Wen Bingchun cradled her hand, her eyes red as she looked at Wen Zhi: "Xiao Zhi… you promised to be gentle."

Wen Zhi smiled: "Oh, I was already very gentle. Everyone saw it." Those in the palace knew how to hit in a way that hurt the other person without feeling pain themselves.

As a former high-ranking concubine, she was naturally well-versed in this art.

Liu Yiru couldn’t help but question: "Was it really that painful? Wen Zhi’s hit didn’t even sound as loud as when I hit Ji Yao."

Wen Bingchun: "..." It’s not about how loud it is.

It's the quiet ones you gotta watch.

She bit back her protest, just hoping Wen Xiaowen wouldn’t lose again.

But throughout the entire game, Wen Xiaowen couldn't win a single round.

Her delicate hands were slapped repeatedly by Wen Zhi, left and right. Though they only looked slightly red on the surface, her fingers, knuckles, and wrists felt like they'd been run over by a truck. The pain made her whole body tremble, her back drenched in cold sweat, until she finally slumped off the chair.

Everyone on set was shocked, and Director Fang called for a doctor. However, after examining her, the doctor couldn't find anything wrong and muttered, "There’s no issue. It must be in her head."

The live stream viewers went from confused to filled with mocking comments.

"Boo… typical plastic sisters. Wen Bingchun must be trying to make her look bad."

"Hahaha, the annual Oscar award should go to Wen Bingchun. She's putting on such a great performance."

"If it weren't for the professional doctor here, I might've bought your act! Everyone can see clearly that Wen Zhi wasn't even trying."

After the game, Wen Bingchun was 'awarded' the annual Best Performance Award.

Heaven knows, in her five years in the industry, this was the first time she'd been so openly praised for her acting skills.

She didn’t feel the slightest bit honored—just furious and anxious, wishing the ground would swallow her.

Was Wen Zhi deliberately targeting her?

During lunch, her hands were still trembling. Wen Zhi helpfully loaded up her bowl with dishes, all of which she hated so much she couldn’t even stand the smell.

No doubt about it—this was personal.

Then came the usual afternoon nap.

Wen Bingchun iced her wrist in her room, then tried moving her fingers, but her knuckles kept aching. Wen Xiaowen came running over and handed her a box of ointment.

Surprised, she asked, "Where did this come from?"

Wen Xiaowen, stuffing his face with candy cake, replied, "Mu Mu's mom gave it to me. She also gave me this cake—it's so good!"

That boy only cares about food!

"Why did she give this to me?"

Wen Xiaowen said, "Mu Mu's mom said you’ll need it a lot in the future, so she told you to keep it handy."

"That's ridiculous! Who keeps ointment on hand for no reason?"

What's Wen Zhi's problem all of a sudden?

Her normally sweet expression twisted briefly. She grabbed the ointment and went out, just in time to see Wen Zhi heading to the second-floor terrace. Glancing around, she noticed the kids playing by the first-floor entrance, Liu Yiru and Lin Jiyao’s doors tightly shut, and the crew all off resting.

At this hour, barely anyone was watching live.

If she remembered correctly, there were no cameras on the second-floor terrace.

Wen Bingchun clenched her aching hand and followed her up. When she arrived, Wen Zhi was on the phone, catching bits of the conversation.

"Yeah, just put all the clothes Mom bought in my closet. For the birthday gifts, leave them on the second floor—I’ll open one each year. I already checked one—it’s an all-diamond star hairpin. I lost the last one by accident, and Dad promised to replace it. Didn’t expect him to actually do it."

"I know. Dad never breaks his promises to me..."

Standing behind her, Wen Bingchun seethed with resentment: Why does Wen Zhi get unconditional love from her uncle and aunt, while no matter how hard she tries, her own parents treat her like she’s worthless?

Wen Zhi hung up and turned around, without batting an eye at seeing her there.

"Oh? Coming to find me so soon?"

Blinded by rage, Wen Bingchun demanded, "You were doing it on purpose, weren’t you? Deliberately targeting me, humiliating me? What did I even do to you?"

Wen Zhi shrugged. "Seriously? You don't know? You gathered all that made-up dirt about me, hired trolls to get me trending, and now you’re asking what you did?"

Wen Bingchun forced herself to stay calm. "I have no idea what you’re talking about. You dropping out of school at 13 is a fact—how's that on me if people dug it up?"

Wen Zhi retorted, "Didn't I drop out because of you? Back then, you watched me drown without lifting a finger, causing me to lose my memory and end up on the streets. Now that I’m back, I haven’t even held a grudge against you, yet you turn around and frame me? What’s it to you, huh?" She unlocked her phone and played a video: "Your dear assistant got busted by the cops spreading rumors about me in your apartment. Want to check what’s on her phone?"

In the video, the assistant, Gao Lan, was being questioned by two police officers, spilling everything through tears.

Wen Bingchun panicked instantly but dug in her heels and spat, "She just couldn’t stand you bullying me and went rogue to frame you. What—what does that have to do with me? I wasn’t involved. She’s just pinning it on me to avoid taking responsibility." She never left evidence behind.

Wen Zhi chuckled lightly. "You’re slick at playing innocent. Too bad your little assistant doesn’t see it that way. She taped you for leverage later. Want me to play it for you?"

Wen Zhi pulled a voice recorder from her pocket and pressed play.

Wen Bingchun’s face turned deathly pale. She couldn’t hold back any longer, sprinting to smack the recorder to the ground and stomping it to bits in a rage. Even after it was crushed beyond recognition, she kept grinding it underfoot in fury.

Wen Zhi let her vent until the recorder was utterly destroyed before speaking calmly, "Ever think you’ve been hating the wrong girl all these years?"

Wen Bingchun glared at her.

Wen Zhi continued, "Before coming to this show, Uncle and Auntie said you’re cut out of the Wen family money."

The words hit Wen Bingchun like a knife, igniting fury and humiliation. Even though she’d long known her parents didn’t care for her, having it thrown in her face—especially by the cousin she’d always been compared to—was unbearable.

Her bitterness blew up like dynamite. "I hate you! I hate you, hate you, hate you to death!" she shrieked, her usual gentleness nowhere to be found. "Even before Xiao Wen was born, everyone loved you! My parents made me kiss your ass since I was little, always praising how perfect you were while I was trash. I had better grades, was more sensible, yet all the classmates still liked you—even the guy I liked! I bent over backward for Uncle and Auntie, serving them tea when they were sick, and what did I get? Neither would adopt me!"

"You only caused trouble, yet they still missed you. Why couldn’t you just drop dead? Why did you have to come back? I finally scored this gig, and you had to ruin it!"

By the end, she was nearly screaming.

Once she finished, Wen Zhi asked, "So, you framed me?"

Wen Bingchun, having vented, felt lighter. She took two deep breaths, her twisted face curling into a sneer. "What are you talking about? You got a persecution complex?"

"My assistant went too far. I’ll report her to the police. You’d better sort out your own mess. Keep the ointment—you’ll need it." She tossed the ointment to Wen Zhi, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

She’d slipped up, but she’d never explicitly mentioned Wen Zhi in her talks with the assistant—it was all the assistant’s interpretation. No tape could tie her to it.

Soon, Wen Zhi would be forced to quit the show, her rep trashed. No one would like her anymore.

Wen Zhi caught the ointment and pointed behind her. Puzzled, Wen Bingchun turned and followed her gaze.

A hidden cam had popped up on the closed wooden door, its red light blinking—clearly recording.

Wen Zhi’s voice, devilish and soft, came from behind: "Everything you just said went live."

Wen Bingchun’s face drained of color. "Impossible!" There were no cameras here—she’d checked.

Wen Zhi opened the live stream and held her phone up.

Wen Bingchun spun around, her eyes locking onto the screen.

The views were blowing up, the comments flooding so fast it obscured her horrified face.

Every single one was cursing her.

"Damn, that’s terrifying! Purity’s just her name—she switched up faster than WiFi."

"We're from the same roots—why so ruthless? This year's Best Two-Faced Actress Award should go to Wen Bingchun."

"Wen Bingchun's parents are disgusting, and so is she. Wen Zhi got the world's worst luck having a cousin like that."

"Help! So Wen Zhi wasn’t deceived back then—she went missing after falling into the water, and it’s related to Wen Bingchun? This is a criminal case, right? Call the police, quick! This could blow open a huge case."

"………………"

"What kind of over-the-top rich people drama is this? Wen Zhi fell into the water, lost her memory, and was deceived by Mu Mu’s dad?"

"Wen Bingchun is downright vicious, even trying to steal Sister Zhi’s parents. No wonder she always acted weird around the chubby little kid—she probably resents him too. Was it her who egged the kid to ask Mu Mu that question?"

"Ugh, my heart aches for Sister Zhi. Get that white lotus out of the show!"

"Just get out already!"

Wen Bingchun’s arms and legs were shaking like crazy, her vision darkened, and she collapsed to the ground.

The rooftop door flew open as Director Fang rushed in with the crew. Lin Jiyao and Liu Yiru followed closely behind.

Warm sunlight bathed the rooftop, but Wen Bingchun, hearing the footsteps, couldn’t bring herself to look up. She sat there crumpled on the ground, covering her face and sobbing.

Author's Note: