Chapter 5: Going Live and Facing Off

Though the Wen family wanted to stay by Wen Miaohan’s side, her resistance over the past few months made them hesitant to remain and risk disturbing her rest. So, they pretended to agree but actually went to the suite next door as soon as they left the ward.

Finally having everyone sent away, Wen Miaohan took a deep breath.

She didn’t exactly dislike them, but having been an orphan since childhood, used to solitude, suddenly trying to integrate into such a big family was genuinely difficult for her.

Come to think of it, as a lone soul, it was likely that no one in reality would even realize she had died by now.

That wasn’t so bad; at least her body wouldn’t be reduced to ashes. Perhaps when her journey through this story was over, she could return to her own world.

But wait—she still had to survive six more months in the book before dying. If the book’s timeline synced with reality, half a year would pass; wouldn’t her body have decayed by then?

In the quiet of the night, thoughts tended to stray. Wen Miaohan felt her situation was truly miserable—no, the script she’d been handed at the start was just terribly flawed.

Compared to herself, those paper-thin characters in the story were practically born into Rome. What was it to her to impose limits on their lives?

No, how had she sunk so low as to be compared to cardboard cutouts—and found wanting?

The more she thought about it, the more depressed she became. Any drowsiness she’d felt earlier had vanished completely.

She picked up her phone to pass the time and checked whether her actions today had altered the course of this world’s laws.

At once, she sat bolt upright. The sudden movement tugged painfully at the IV needle in her hand, and only then did she notice the sharp ache.

“Damn it, I knew the laws of this world wouldn’t be so easily broken. No wonder protagonists in regret novels have to endure all the abuse early on!”

While she had been dozing, the online world had once again shifted.

Two hours ago, Fang Le and Ye Lin tearfully started a livestream.

The content was straightforward: they urged netizens not to trust only what they saw. They were merely employees, following orders from their boss. In the end, they were pushed forward to take the blame and stir up attention.

In short, everything people were seeing was a show orchestrated by Wen Miaohan herself. Because she’d had nothing to do and no popularity these past months, when a job finally came along, it was as the second female lead.

Since debuting, Wen Miaohan had always played the lead, receiving lavish resources. This was her first time playing a supporting role—and for a rival company’s production at that. She was extremely unwilling, so she staged this entire act just to boost her own popularity above theirs.

Most people believed the boss dominated the employees, not the other way around.

So, the gossip-hungry crowd was successfully led astray by the clumsy acting of Fang Le and Ye Lin.

As for Wen Miaohan’s rival, Cheng Xiaoxiao’s fans, they vented all the fury they’d held back all day.

The internet was a storm of vitriol; wherever the black tide passed, any rational bystander who dared speak a word in Wen Miaohan’s favor was immediately branded a fan and nailed to a shameful pillar.

“Fang Le and Ye Lin, just grasshoppers after the autumn harvest, still trying to hop around. And Cheng Xiaoxiao hiding behind her fans to stir conflict—what nerve!”

Wen Miaohan gently touched the skin around the IV to ease the pain. Once it subsided, she used her hand still hooked to the drip to operate her phone and opened the social platform’s livestream.

The star of the day instantly attracted a crowd, filling the chat room.

Messages scrolled rapidly across the screen, but Wen Miaohan didn’t bother to glance at them. She adjusted her posture, waved politely with her left hand still receiving fluids, and greeted everyone warmly.

“Good evening, everyone! We meet again. Seeing me twice in one day shows you really love me! You won’t even let me rest. I just went for some tests, and you’ve all nearly insulted my ancestors up to the eighteenth generation.”

Though seriously ill, her sharp tongue was slightly weakened by her frailty. Yet her half-dead tone surprisingly quieted some of the more scattered, fickle onlookers.

The only ones left stirring in the chat were professional haters, rival fans, and disguised trolls.

“About Fang Le and Ye Lin, I’ll share the surveillance footage with you all later. If you’re interested and have time, watch their day-to-day work, then try to act tough in front of me.”

After addressing their matter, Wen Miaohan glanced at the chat and saw most of the noisy messages came from Cheng Xiaoxiao’s fans. She smirked and randomly picked one to read aloud.

“‘Wen Miaohan, just die already! Stay away from Xiaoxiao.’”

Wen Miaohan laughed bitterly. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. This is my livestream, not me trying to hang around Xiaoxiao. She’s the one constantly riding my coattails!”

“Can’t help it; I’m just too outstanding. Three months without showing up or working, then I come back and find the entertainment industry still belongs to me. With such huge popularity, who wouldn’t be tempted to latch on? I get it.”

“But while you’re riding my coattails, could you at least wish me some good? I only have six months left, and even that seems too long for you all. You can’t wait for me to just kick the bucket right this second!”

She shook her head in exasperation.

Suddenly, messages not filled with hate appeared on the screen.

“Why can she say such bold things in such a half-dead tone?”

“Honestly, she truly is the queen of popularity. I’m not a fan, but whenever I scroll through entertainment news, she’s always involved.”

“Get lost! Our Xiaoxiao wouldn’t stoop to leech off your popularity. You’re the one always dragging our precious Xiaoxiao into this and making comparisons.”

Wen Miaohan laughed uproariously upon reading that.

“You say I’m comparing myself to Cheng Xiaoxiao—comparing what? That she looks better than me? Or that her acting is superior? Or that she has more money?”

“Come on, everyone in the livestream, when you compare yourself to someone, do you aim to be better or worse?”

“Better, of course!”

“No, I want to be worse. I want to crush everyone!”

“Well, there are both ways; okay, tastes differ. I don’t know what everyone thinks, but I tend to admire strength. If I’m going to compare, I aim for excellence.”

“So I can understand why Cheng Xiaoxiao keeps clinging to me—after all, I’m far more outstanding than she is.”

“But she can’t both cling and distance herself! She’s the one dragging me into comparison, riding my popularity, then slapping me with a big label, hiding in the shadows to stir conflict and smear me. That’s not right!”

“It’s as if dragging me down from the altar would let her take my place.”

Wen Miaohan’s sharp tongue was truly infuriating.

At this moment, Cheng Xiaoxiao’s fans were furious, each holding metaphorical bombs, itching to blow up the livestream.