The Heiress's Game

When Li Chunjing knocked on the door and came in, Gu Yunjin was looking at documents.

"Ms. Gu, the data for Phase 4 of 'Walking with Brilliance' is out."

Li Chunjing handed over the tablet, its screen filled with curves and numbers.

"The first episode garnered over 20 million views within 24 hours, and the amount of discussion was five times that of the previous episode."

The clip of Chen Cui arguing with her younger sister was edited into a short video and spread across the internet, with the highest single video reaching over 30 million views.

Three topics trended on Weibo, with the one about "Chen Cui and Gu Mingyue" remaining at the top of the trending list for a full six hours.

She paused, then turned to a page of data: "The online marketing company will continue to follow up."

The focus of this wave is to guide the discussion in the direction of "a real comeback from the bottom to the top", downplaying the fighting and strengthening Chen Cui's personal storyline.

Currently, public opinion is within a controllable range. Negative voices mainly focus on attacks against the younger sister, while opinions on Chen Cui herself are mostly empathetic and appreciative.

As Gu Yunjin listened, she scrolled through the data on the tablet, a slight smile playing on her lips, without interrupting.

"Furthermore," Li Chunjing added, her voice tinged with barely suppressed excitement.

"Most importantly, in the past few days, several TV stations have contacted us, wanting to broadcast 'Walking with Brilliance' on satellite TV."

The South Group has tentatively decided to secure an exclusive variety show slot on Hunan TV, with the time slot tentatively set for Friday nights at 9 PM.

The contract is still being drafted, but the other party's intention is already very clear: they say the show's quality and buzz are more than enough to justify its prime-time slot on a satellite TV channel.

"Fruit Channel?" Gu Yunjin raised her eyes slightly.

"Mr. Nan has a good eye. This platform has the widest audience, with many young people and a high proportion of female users, which completely overlaps with our target audience."

"Yes, that's what President Nan said too."

He said that if the show were to be exclusively broadcast on Hunan TV, given its current popularity, a strong opening ratings would be no problem at all.

The potential for GG sponsorships and brand collaborations in the future will be at least twice as large as for pure online streaming.

Gu Yunjin placed the tablet on the table, leaned back in her chair, and revealed a rare satisfied smile.

"Chen Cui has lived up to expectations," she said, her tone carrying a sense of affirmation after careful consideration.

"If she heard you praising her like that, she'd probably be so nervous she'd pinch her thumb and forefinger." Li Chunjing smiled and put the tablet away.

Gu Yunjin did not take the joke seriously.

Her gaze passed over Li Chunjing's shoulder and landed on the pomegranate tree outside the window.

The flowers on the trees have mostly fallen, and a few unripe pomegranates hang on the branches, hard and unsightly, and it's unclear how long it will take for them to turn red.

"Tell her not to be nervous, she'll be busy later. With the broadcast on satellite TV, the audience will double, and every expression will be scrutinized. She can't afford to drop in performance."

"Understood, I'll go make the arrangements now." Li Chunjing said, then turned and left, closing the door behind her.

The tea room quieted down, with only the faint sound of airflow from the air conditioner vents remaining.

Gu Yunjin sat for a moment, then stood up and walked to a rosewood five-drawer cabinet in the corner of the tea room.

She pulled open the bottom drawer, inside which was an old photo album with a cream-colored cover and yellowed edges, but it was well preserved.

She placed the photo album on the tea table and opened it.

The first page features an old photograph.

The woman in the photo is wearing a lake-blue silk dress, standing sideways in front of a wall of roses, turning her head slightly to look at the camera.

Her eyebrows and eyes were seven-tenths similar to Gu Yunjin's, but her temperament was completely different—that woman's beauty was bright, flamboyant, and unguarded, as if she had opened up all the light for people to see.

Su Wanning.

A once-famous superstar met Gu Zhenxing in the prime of her life and made a decision that no one could understand—to retire from acting for love and marry into the Gu family.

Gu Yunjin pulled the photo out of the album and flipped it to the back.

On the back was a line of faded penmanship, in Su Wanning's handwriting, delicate but slightly messy, as if written in a hurry:

"I met him the day this photo was taken. He said I was prettier than a flower. Silly boy."

Gu Yunjin looked at the line of words and lightly traced the words "idiot" with her fingertips.

She remembered her mother's handwriting and her mother's scent—a very faint gardenia fragrance mixed with a hint of foundation.

She remembered her mother holding her on the sofa in the living room, teaching her to read, and drawing strokes on the newspaper with her fingernails.

She remembered her mother's voice, soft and gentle, with a slight southern accent at the end, and the ending of her voice would rise when she laughed, like singing.

She also remembered Gu Mingyue.

Gu Zhenxing's daughter from his first marriage was almost ten years older than Gu Yunjin.

When Su Wanning married into the Gu family, Gu Mingyue was already eleven years old, a spoiled little princess who knew how secure her position was in the family.

Gu Yunjin had memories from a very young age. Her memories from when she was three or four were fragmented pieces, but by the time she was seven or eight, every scene was like something carved into her bones, impossible to forget.

She remembered Gu Mingyue deliberately kicking Su Wanning's shoes, which she had left in the entryway, out the door in front of a house full of servants, and then saying innocently, "Oh dear, I thought they were props left here by some opera troupe."

The servants kept their heads down, not daring to laugh, but their eyes and brows betrayed their barely suppressed schadenfreude.

She remembered that Su Wanning's seat at the dining table was changed three times by Gu Mingyue on the grounds that "that's where Mom used to sit," and finally she was moved to the seat closest to the serving area.

Every time the maid carried hot soup past Su Wanning, Gu Yunjin would subconsciously shrink her shoulders, afraid that her mother would get burned.

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Gu Yunjin remembered her mother's reaction every time she was targeted—she didn't speak, didn't cry, didn't make a fuss, she just went back to her room and sat in front of the window in a daze.

Seven or eight-year-old Gu Yunjin peeked through the crack in the door and saw her mother with her back to the door, her shoulders trembling slightly, but she made no sound.

One time, she couldn't resist, pushed open the door, ran to her mother's side, looked up, and asked, "Mom, why didn't you tell Dad?"

Su Wanning picked her up and placed her on her lap, wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes, and smiled: "What's the use of telling him? He won't be on my side."

That was the first time Gu Yunjin realized that some things are useless to tell others.

If you don't hold enough weight in someone's heart, your grievances become a burden to them.

So she learned not to tell anyone.

She learned to get up, dust off her knees, and not complain of pain when Gu Mingyue deliberately tripped her on the stairs.

But deep down she's not someone who passively accepts whatever comes her way.

When she was seven or eight years old, she would fight with Gu Mingyue, who was seventeen or eighteen years old.

It was a real fight; they pounced on me, scratching and biting, like a small animal cornered against a wall.

But the result was always the same—the servants rushed in to break up the fight, but in reality, they just held her down and let Gu Mingyue hit her.

Then Su Wanning would be called to stand in front of her grandmother, Madam Bei, and listen to the old lady say in a cold tone, "You've raised a fine daughter, indeed from a humble family, she has no manners."

Then Su Wanning was forced to kneel as punishment.

Seven or eight-year-old Gu Yunjin stood at the doorway of the room, watching her mother kneeling on the living room floor, her back straight, her eyes looking straight ahead, her face expressionless.

Mrs. Bei sat on the sofa drinking tea, while Gu Mingyue stood beside her, her smile both sweet and cruel.

That image was etched in Gu Yunjin's mind, like a photograph that had been laminated and had not faded even after twenty years.

Gu Yunjin still remembers the day before Su Wanning decided to divorce. She finally got a chance to audition for a script for her comeback and prepared for two whole months. But the day before the audition, someone found the script and threw it into the fish tank, and the paper was soaked into a lump of mud.

No one admitted who did it, but when Gu Mingyue passed by Su Wanning's room that day, she deliberately said in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, "Even an actress wants to make a comeback? Doesn't she know whose house this is?"

Gu Yunjin turned another page in the photo album.

In the photo on this page, Su Wanning is squatting in the garden, holding a small shovel, and smiling back at the camera.

Behind her, a row of white gardenias grew in the flower bed; they were her favorite flowers.

On the back of the photo is the same line of text: "Yun Jin helped me water the flowers today, but she got soaked herself. It's hilarious."

Gu Yunjin turned the photo over and stared at the smile for a long time.

Mom, you're so silly.

She thought to herself, her tone calm, as if she were having a casual chat with someone who was still by her side.

Why did you retire from acting back then? You were so talented.

If you hadn't married him, if you hadn't entered this family—

She swallowed back what she was about to say, something she'd done for years and was used to.

Gu Mingyue, you used to call her an actress.

You've been calling actors "actors" for so many years. You think actors are lowly, actors are not respectable, and you think your lineage as the eldest daughter of the Gu family is incomparably noble.

But what happened to you afterward? You insisted on standing in the center position when attending brand events.

When you shoot a magazine cover, you choose the best photographer; when you sit in the front row at fashion week, you want all the cameras to be pointed at you—isn't that exactly what you call something only actors crave?

You want to be a socialite, but you also want to have the treatment of a celebrity.

Then I'll let you have it, but not the way you want it.

Gu Yunjin closed the photo album, her fingers pressing on the cover, her fingertips turning slightly white.

Walking alongside brilliance, Chen Cui.

The girl who used to carry your bag is now more famous than you.

She'll become even more famous in the future. She'll be shooting for magazines, getting endorsements, and walking the red carpet. You'll see her face on your favorite brand's GG label, and you'll see her name in the opening credits of the show you want to be on.

And every time you see her, you'll remember one thing—she used to be your handbag carrier.

You used to disdain even giving her a second glance, but now everyone who mentions Gu Mingyue's name will bring up Chen Cui's story.

You can't get rid of her; the more you hate her, the stronger her presence becomes.

The more you try to distance yourself from her, the more the conversation will veer towards her.

To keep you living in your resentment and jealousy, to make you grit your teeth and ask yourself why every time you see her news—that's the retribution you truly deserve.

The tea room was so quiet that only the hum of the air conditioner could be heard. A gust of wind rose outside the window, and the branches of the pomegranate tree swayed a few times in the wind. A small, unripe pomegranate fell from the branch and landed silently on the grass.

Gu Yunjin stood up, put the photo album back at the bottom of the drawer, and closed the drawer.

She walked to the window and looked at the bamboo grove outside.

My phone rang.

It was a new message from Gu Mingyue in the family group chat. The Paris Fashion Week event was over, and she posted another set of street photos.

Wearing the latest design from a haute couture brand, she stood in front of the Eiffel Tower with the caption: "Thank you all for your support, this trip to Paris was perfect."

A row of thumbs-ups appeared below, with relatives lining up to praise, "Mingyue is getting more and more beautiful," "This outfit suits you so well," and "She has such great style."

Gu Yunjin glanced at the phone, then put it down without replying.

She suddenly remembered something very small.

It's so small, so small, that if you say it, people will think she's making a mountain out of a molehill.

When she was seven or eight years old, she stood in the living room and watched her mother kneel before Mrs. Bei.

Gu Mingyue walked past her, lowered her head and whispered something in her ear, her voice soft and sweet, as if she were saying something intimate:

"Your mother is an actress, and you'll grow up to be one too."

Twenty years later, she did not become an actress.

She became an investor, the owner of a media company, and someone who could decide who the next star would be.

The person who called her mother an actress now spends millions every year hiring photographers to take street photos of herself, cultivating her socialite persona on social media, and craving attention, discussion, and adulation.

Socialite?

So what if you're a socialite? The more you care about something, the more I'll make you watch someone you look down on leave you far behind on the track you care about most.

This is the longest-lasting revenge.

I won't let you die, I won't let you be disgraced, but I'll let you live, live to see the person you despise the most live the life you most want to live.

I've seen many comments asking why I suddenly brought in the variety show aspect. I've been pretending not to see it, but now I can finally write about it, hahaha, finally enough groundwork has been laid.