Chapter 35: Liang Feiyue! (Please add to your collection)

Inside the hotel.

At this moment, Liang Feiyue was closely following the news circulating online. Aside from the public’s doubts about her, what occupied her attention even more was another kind of commentary.

She—she was nothing more than a foil to Su Yunjin!

“Maomao, tell me, are we really just here to take the fall for someone else?”

Staring into the endless darkness beyond the window, Liang Feiyue’s face remained impassive, but her eyes burned with fierce hatred.

She knew she was a minor celebrity—barely on the periphery of the industry—but that didn’t mean anyone could trample on her as they pleased.

In the entertainment world, propping one person up while pushing another down was commonplace. There were rigged variety shows and scripted reality TV—open secrets, all of them.

But Liang Feiyue was a woman with pride.

She was no mere pretty face like Zhang Chuchu. She had graduated from a prestigious drama academy and had ten years of stage experience behind her. In terms of qualifications, she was a veteran—she could even teach some of the newer actors. Yet fate played its tricks, and in this industry, the harder one worked, the more invisible one became.

She refused to accept the filthy, unspoken rules festering below the surface. That was why she’d hovered on the fringes, performing in comedic roles, never quite breaking through.

What she lacked was a real opportunity.

But now, the chance she’d been given was only to shield someone else from harm. She was unwilling, resentful, frustrated—yet she had no way to refuse.

In this moment, all her anger and grievance converged on Su Yunjin.

“I… I’m not sure,” Maomao replied hesitantly, “but Feifei, this is still an opportunity. We shouldn’t overthink it—let’s just do our job well.”

Maomao was only nineteen, a distant cousin who’d dropped out of school and come to work as Liang Feiyue’s assistant. Usually quick-witted and lively, now she was uncertain and conflicted.

She had seen plenty of such comments online. Perhaps those who wrote them didn’t intend harm, but those who read them couldn’t help but be affected. Zhang Chuchu was a prime example, after all. Even with her status, she’d lost to Su Yunjin—dismissed in public, a devastating blow for any celebrity.

Liang Feiyue didn’t believe Zhang Chuchu would foolishly sabotage herself. The only explanation was that Su Yunjin was a challenging adversary.

Clenching her fist tightly, Liang Feiyue took a deep breath. Staring at her thin, frail reflection in the glass, she finally exhaled, as if releasing all her pent-up resentment.

“I hope so. I really can’t accept this, Maomao. People say I’m doing well in this industry, but just look—what is the entertainment world now?”

Everyone was lost in indulgence. As long as someone powerful stood behind you, you could trample on the hard work of others. Is this the industry I once dreamed of entering?

Suddenly, a wave of sorrow crashed over her. She felt suffocated, on the verge of tears. This oppressive feeling had haunted her for half a year now, sometimes driving her to rely on medication for relief.

Fortunately, Maomao was family. With her, Liang Feiyue could relax, breathe a little easier.

“Feifei, are you feeling unwell again?” Maomao hurried over, concern etched on her face.

Liang Feiyue shook her head. “It’s not that—I’m just… so sad. I always dreamed of seeing actors from our country stand on the world stage. But I’m just a small-time actress. There’s nothing I can do but watch myself grow older, day by day. Maomao, sometimes I really feel like I can’t hold on anymore. And now I’m nothing more than a scapegoat.”

“Fei…”

“That’s enough. I know what you’re going to say. I’ve heard all the platitudes before. Don’t repeat them. I understand, but I just can’t do it. I hate it—I really do!”

Grinding her teeth, she finally voiced what had been festering in her heart.

She hated this industry.

She hated people like Su Yunjin, those with powerful connections.

She hated everything.

She hated it all, with a passion that threatened to consume her.

If she could, she would wish someone like Su Yunjin out of existence.

The night passed in silence.

The next day.

Liang Feiyue received a WeChat message from Zhang Zhichang, instructing her mentor group to attend a morning meeting.

At eight, after her morning exercise, Liang Feiyue arrived at the headquarters of the Lu Corporation, well ahead of schedule. Her young assistant Maomao waited with her.

“Fei, we really didn’t have to come so early. They said the meeting is at ten,” Maomao remarked, glancing at her watch. It was only nine-oh-five.

That meant they’d be waiting at least an hour—perhaps more, depending on how late everyone else decided to arrive.

But she’d said this many times before, and Liang Feiyue never listened.

In her cousin’s obstinate mind, they always had to be the first to arrive. No matter how late others showed up, even if they were stood up entirely, she insisted on maintaining her own standard.

“Guess what time everyone will finally show up for this meeting?” Liang Feiyue asked, as if she hadn’t heard Maomao’s previous remark. Her radiant face was lit with a bright smile.

At first glance, she looked every bit the well-maintained, beautiful actress. But a closer look revealed a chill hidden in her smile—a hint of scorn from one who looked down on those beneath her.

Maomao understood perfectly that her cousin’s words were laced with sarcasm.

This wasn’t the first time, after all.

They had once waited an entire day, only to have the producer announce that the meeting was canceled because a certain “it girl” was too busy to attend. In reality, that actress was simply out on a date, and everyone else had been left waiting because of it.

Worse still were those who deliberately made others wait for an hour or two.

Now, Liang Feiyue was clearly referring to Su Yunjin—one of those privileged artists who always had someone powerful backing her, acting as if the whole world should revolve around her whims.

The tragedy was that they could say nothing and could only wait, hoping that one day the heavens would open their eyes and expose these people’s misdeeds, bringing about their downfall overnight.

“Hmm… I think maybe eleven?” Maomao ventured, seriously considering the question despite knowing full well what her cousin meant.

Eleven o’clock meant the meeting would be delayed by an hour, but for these entitled stars, that would already be a favorable outcome.

“Eleven? You’re just thinking about lunch, aren’t you?” Liang Feiyue chuckled, deliberately teasing. “You little foodie, look how much weight you’ve gained lately! Time to start dieting, or you’ll turn into a little pig.”

“I’m not worried! I don’t need to go on camera. My grandma always says, just eat and drink as you please—you’ll slim down naturally as you grow.”

“That’s just an excuse. Trust me, if you want to lose weight, eat less and exercise more. Don’t count on the fat disappearing on its own.”

“I’m not scared.” Maomao turned her head away, feigning arrogance.

The girl’s antics made Liang Feiyue laugh, and she let the matter drop. Picking up her phone, she had just opened an app when she saw, at the elevator entrance, a figure dressed in a pale green tea ceremony robe strolling leisurely toward them.