Chapter Seventeen: The First Slip

When Jin Jianyi heard Song Waning say this, he looked at Jian Anan with some surprise. “Your knee isn’t injured?”

“It’s… not like that, let me explain.” Jian Anan hung her head, her eyes darting about as she desperately searched for a way out.

The reason Song Waning knew such details was because, when she left the house that morning, Wen Jingxing had already told her everything that had happened after the previous night. As for how she knew Jian Anan was lying about her knee injury, it was because in her previous life, she had trained in martial arts for years, fought countless battles, and survived many assassination attempts. The experience accumulated from endless fights made it clear to her at a glance: the force with which Jian Anan had knelt last night could not possibly have caused any damage to her knees.

In the livestream chat, the previously aggressive comments denouncing Song Waning diminished dramatically.

[Anan’s really out of line this time. It’s just a scrape, nothing major.]
[What’s with this attitude? Just because she’s a celebrity, she’s so delicate? Thinks she’s better than everyone? It’s only a scrape—why make such a fuss?]
[Did you catch the detail? Song Waning said Anan’s knee isn’t hurt, so why was she limping over, claiming it was from chasing Song Waning?]
[Damn! I blamed the wrong person.]
[What’s the rush? Anan only said she fell while chasing Song Waning, not that she hurt her knee.]
[Yeah, maybe Anan tripped again after she went back!]

However, some of Jian Anan’s fans stubbornly refused to admit she was at fault and kept arguing. But Jian Anan couldn’t see the stream.

She looked up at Jin Jianyi. “Brother Jianyi, my knee isn’t that bad, just a little sore.”

Jian Anan felt uneasy, worried that Jin Jianyi would think less of her gentleness, so she played the damsel in distress. Evidently, her plan worked.

Jin Jianyi’s tightly furrowed brows relaxed. “Is that so? Why don’t you sit down somewhere for now, since your knee’s injured.”

But Song Waning had no intention of letting the matter drop so easily. Hadn’t Jian Anan tried to smear her name that very morning? There was no way she’d let her brush it off as if nothing had happened.

Just then, Li Weiwei, seeing the situation had run its course, called out loudly, “Alright, the three-day period is over. Today, all the guests will draw new identity cards.”

She laid out ten identity cards on the table. “Everyone, come and pick one.”

Jin Jianyi said, “Anan, you just sit here. I’ll draw one for you.”

Jian Anan smiled and nodded. “Alright, thank you, Brother Jianyi.”

The other guests stepped forward to draw their cards, but Song Waning was nowhere to be seen.

When Wen Jingxing returned with his card, he noticed Song Waning had disappeared. Where did she go? Wasn’t she just here? He glanced around in confusion and saw her emerging from behind a small tree covered in white blossoms. She then walked past Jian Anan.

Before he could ask what she was doing, a sharp scream pierced the air behind him. “Ah!”

The cameraman, quick on the uptake, swung the livestream camera around. Where Jian Anan had been sitting, there was now an empty chair. She was standing ten meters away, backing up and frantically slapping her back.

At last, she managed to knock off whatever was clinging to her. Everyone stared and saw it was a furry, pitch-black spider, with eight long legs and yellow rings on its body.

Once it fell, the spider scrambled toward the blossoming tree and soon vanished from sight.

Jian Anan, oblivious to any implications, was still patting her chest in fright, her face drained of color. “How did that thing end up on me? That was terrifying!”

But after she spoke, there was a long silence. She looked up, puzzled, and found everyone staring at her with strange expressions.

Even the livestream’s bullet chat froze for a moment.

[That spider’s incredible! Even the doctor couldn’t cure her leg, but the spider did it in a flash.]

Though these words sounded complimentary, they were dripping with irony.

[Who were those fans being so arrogant before? Why aren’t you arguing now? Let’s see you explain this!]
[Haha, finally they’ve gone quiet, knowing they’re in the wrong.]
[People do act out of character when they’re extremely frightened!]
[Oh, really? So impressive—she was limping just now, and the next second she dashes ten meters away?]

No matter how Jian Anan’s fans tried to defend or explain away her actions, it all rang hollow.

When Jian Anan realized that her reaction had been excessive, she froze, forcing a smile. “Ha… ha, I was just so scared that I forgot about the pain in my knee…”

But no one replied.

She looked helplessly toward Jin Jianyi, but he too was regarding her with a peculiar expression.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile played at the corner of Song Waning’s lips as she casually drew an identity card. She glanced at it—it read, “Restaurant Waitstaff.”

She turned, her tone laced with a playful edge. “Anan, your recovery is remarkable. You were limping so badly just now that you couldn’t walk, and Brother Jianyi had to help you, but now you’ve run so far away in a blink. How strange!”

“I… it’s not what you think.” Jian Anan was mortified, her words stumbling over themselves.

Song Waning stepped closer, stopping in front of her. “Other than ‘it’s not like that,’ is there anything else you can say? Or is it that your knee was never injured at all and you’re just feigning illness?”

She stood there without moving, yet an aura of authority radiated from her, making Jian Anan bow her head in shame.

Shen Yue, seeing Jian Anan at a disadvantage, hurried over to her side, pointing at Song Waning and snapping, “Song Waning! You’re going too far. How can you say that to Anan? She never said her knee injury was your fault, so why keep pressing her like this?”

But before she finished, Jian Anan grabbed her hand tightly. “Enough, Yue, don’t say any more. This really is my fault. I shouldn’t have chased her last night, and I shouldn’t have come to the shoot this morning…”

Inwardly, Jian Anan wished Shen Yue would just be quiet. Though she knew Shen Yue meant well, her words only made things worse, pushing her deeper into the fire—useless help indeed!