Chapter Five: Trending Again Through Genuine Talent
[Director, come out and explain! What on earth just happened?]
[Hey, have you considered that maybe Song Waning just went on strike and refused to work?]
[Exactly! Who told her to choose a hatchet to trim branches, does she think she's some martial arts master? Utterly delusional.]
[Do you think she’s not moving because she’s starving?]
[Who cares, she’d deserve it if she starved.]
...
The supposedly “motionless” Song Waning was, in fact, just catching up on sleep. After arriving in this era last night, she’d been too absorbed in studying everything around her to rest at all. So today, whenever she had a moment, she slept.
Inside the livestream, the viewers bombarded Li Weiwei with all sorts of questions, but she never made an appearance. Instead, she watched as discussions about Song Waning grew ever more heated online, yet offered no explanation. She was thoroughly entertained, scrolling through the dedicated online forum fans had set up for Song Waning.
#Documenting the Daily Uselessness of Vase Song# had 1,103 posts and 2.206 million views.
That evening, Li Weiwei had originally arranged an interactive game for the guests, hoping it would help them bond. However, Wen Jingxing, who was supposed to arrive by five, was still nowhere to be seen by nightfall. With the group incomplete, the game had to be postponed. Thus, the final livestream of the day was rescheduled to dinner time.
As the camera swept across the guests’ dishes, it paused in front of Song Waning. A sharp-eyed viewer noticed her meal looked distinctly different from the others’.
[Wait, what? Song Waning didn’t complete the task, but still gets better food than everyone else?]
[Even if the director is playing favorites, this is too blatant!]
Li Weiwei noticed the barrage of comments and finally offered an explanation. “Oh, this is what Song Waning deserves.”
She left it at that, with nothing further to clarify. This ambiguous statement only fueled the online outrage, elevating the attacks against Song Waning to new heights.
Almost instantly, a trending topic shot to second place: #WenFamily’s Third Unmarried Daughter-in-law Abusing Power and Acting Like a Diva#. With the Wen family’s name attached, the situation took on an entirely different tone.
Within an hour, the post had garnered over a thousand comments and 120,000 likes. Masses of netizens directly tagged the Wen Corporation’s official account beneath the post, demanding that they call off the engagement. Song Waning, they declared, was unworthy of her position—and they listed her alleged misdeeds in detail.
Oblivious to the uproar, Song Waning had just finished recording for the day and returned to her small house. The two-story building had two bedrooms and a small living room upstairs, while the ground floor comprised a spacious living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. Unlike the antique aesthetic outside, the interior was modern—cozy, if not particularly large.
The mountain resort itself sprawled across a hundred acres. At its summit were standalone villas and clusters of quaint wooden cabins, each uniquely decorated, forming a vast complex. Entertainment rooms ringed the mountain’s slopes from top to bottom. In the height of summer, a sea of lush trees nearly concealed the resort’s buildings.
After her shower, Song Waning stood on her balcony, savoring the evening breeze with a cup of hot tea, admiring the summer scenery. The occasional cicada song from the forest only added to the tranquility.
Suddenly, a series of abrupt knocks at the door broke her reverie.
She went downstairs and called out, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Ningning.”
She recognized the voice after the very first word. Opening the door just a crack, she saw Jian An’an standing outside, freshly showered and drenched in strong perfume. Her outfit was nothing like her daytime elegance—she wore a very short dress, revealing most of her ample chest and long, pale legs, with delicate makeup accentuating her features.
Song Waning raised an eyebrow, instantly seeing through her little scheme. She neither spoke nor asked what she wanted.
Left awkwardly standing at the door, Jian An’an finally forced a smile and said, “Um, Ningning, aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“No, I’m tired,” Song Waning replied bluntly, cutting off whatever Jian An’an had planned to say next.
“Oh… I just wanted to check on you,” Jian An’an said, her voice trembling as she tried to maintain composure. She reached out with her other hand, offering a white bag.
“And this is?”
“Clothes. Didn’t you say I’d be picking out your outfits every day? You loved yesterday’s, so why didn’t you wear it today?”
“I suddenly stopped liking it this morning, so I didn’t wear it. Take it back, and please don’t bother me every day from now on.” Song Waning well remembered that these nightly deliveries of clothes were supposed to be the first step in Jian An’an and Wen Jingxing’s “accidental” encounters. And even the clothes themselves were nothing but a ploy—every day, Jian An’an would bring her something extravagantly expensive.
The show was meant to simulate ordinary life; while the other guests dressed simply, Song Waning was always decked out in flamboyant outfits, losing all goodwill from the public as a result.
“So… is he inside?” Jian An’an tiptoed, trying to peer inside.
But Song Waning was taller, blocking her view.
Watching Jian An’an’s anxious expression, as if terrified she’d be found out, Song Waning gave a silent, cold laugh. Clearly, Jian An’an wouldn’t leave without getting what she wanted—so she decided to play along.
Feigning confusion, she asked, “Who do you mean?”
She knew perfectly well Jian An’an was looking for Wen Jingxing, but insisted she say the name.
“Uh, Wen… Wen Jingxing.”
Perhaps because it was her first time pulling such a stunt, Jian An’an’s face flushed crimson.
“He’s not here. Don’t bother looking.”
With her patience at its limit, Song Waning promptly closed the door.
This time, Jian An’an had learned her lesson and didn’t dare block the door with her hand. She could only grit her teeth as she stared at the firmly shut door and walk away, thoroughly disgruntled.
Neither woman noticed the tall, slender figure standing in the shadows beneath the trees, watching the entire exchange unfold.
One hand in his pocket, Wen Jingxing’s lips curled into an ambiguous smirk—whether it was amusement or mockery, it was impossible to tell.
Behind him, Cheng Mu hurried over, arms full of documents.