Chapter 2: Longing for Family

Thinking of this, Jiang Qingrou let out a small sigh. But after spending several days in this new world, she had started to adapt, and had already completed the necessary mental preparations.

When she first woke up in this world, she was actually quite happy. In the modern world, she had been an orphan. Although she later relied on her beauty and hard work to become a big celebrity, she was still lonely deep down. The higher you stand, the lonelier it gets. Then one day, after a plane crash, she found herself in the 1970s—fifty years earlier than her original time.

Although this era obviously couldn’t compare to the abundant, worry-free 21st century, she was lucky enough to have landed in a relatively decent family. It made up for the regret of not having a family in her previous life. She had crossed over into a large household: her parents were alive, and she had two doting older brothers. Her father was stingy, but very generous to his only daughter. Her mother cursed everyone, except Jiang Qingrou—she was especially patient with her. Her eldest brother, despite being a serious and proper bureau chief outside, obeyed her every word at home. Her second brother was as stingy as their father but brought her tasty snacks and fun things every day after work.

Her parents were both employed, and her two single older brothers also had good jobs. She herself had kept her looks from her previous life, and was even back to being eighteen. Young, beautiful, with skin like porcelain and a stunning figure. With that kind of setup, she was basically the full package in this era. While everyone else worried about their next meal, Jiang Qingrou could look forward to snacks every day.

But as she became more familiar with this world, Jiang Qingrou tragically discovered that she had transmigrated into a script she had once rejected. And even more tragic—when she rejected it, she had actually been chosen as the lead actress. Now, she had become the villainous supporting character!

She had turned down the role because the character’s name was exactly the same as hers. Now look—she actually became that character.

In the script, the female lead was her cousin, Jiang Fei. The whole story was about how Jiang Qingrou despised Jiang Fei and constantly made things difficult for her. Jiang Fei, through her own efforts, overcame all obstacles and defeated Jiang Qingrou’s entire family, then led her family to a better life and eventually married the male lead to live happily ever after.

The story was cliché, yes, but what irritated Jiang Qingrou most was how absurd it was. The villainous character had a much better family background than the protagonist, but was somehow easily defeated? Why would she even pick a fight with the female lead? Was she bored from living too comfortably?

Later, the director told Jiang Qingrou that modern audiences loved Cinderella-style stories where the underdog fights back. The female lead and the villain were meant to be direct contrasts, and the villain’s nastiness was meant to highlight the protagonist’s intelligence and kindness.

Jiang Qingrou felt like a bunch of question marks had exploded in her head. So basically, the villain had to be dumb just to make the heroine shine? She later suspected the director was targeting her specifically, and decisively rejected the role.

But now, she was glad she’d read the whole script—furious and confused as she had been—because now she remembered everything clearly.

She also knew what happened to her family: her stingy father caused trouble for someone at the factory and got fired. Her gossipy mother talked too much and got her tongue cut out in retaliation. Her bureau-chief brother went to prison for constantly pulling strings to help her. Her second brother, who worked at the supply and marketing cooperative, got sent to reform through labor after being caught for “borrowing” items for her.

Thinking about all their tragic endings, Jiang Qingrou clutched her chest. Should she just die again? But she also knew all those events had something to do with Jiang Fei’s “coincidental” actions. After all, she was the clever, capable female lead.

That made Jiang Qingrou’s feelings even more complicated.

Between hugging the female lead’s thigh or starting a battle of wits against her… Jiang Qingrou chose the latter.

Even though the emotional ties weren’t deep yet, her parents and brothers were genuinely kind to her—and that was a fact. She had longed for a real family. And since the story was just beginning, everything could still be changed.

So this upcoming audition was extremely important for Jiang Qingrou.

On the surface, it looked like she had taken Jiang Fei’s spot. But Jiang Qingrou knew the application had originally been hers—her eldest brother had arranged it for her. It was Jiang Fei’s brother, Jiang Zheng, who secretly took the form and gave it to Jiang Fei.

Later, her big brother Jiang Qingzhi retrieved the form and corrected the name to Jiang Qingrou’s. There were signs of tampering—anyone with sharp eyes could see that Jiang Fei’s name had originally been on it. Normally, people wouldn’t get to see others’ applications, but the teacher in charge knew full well whose form it was originally.

Jiang Qingrou was certain—Jiang Fei had “accidentally” revealed this to Qin Lulu by crying and confiding in her. That was how the rumor “Jiang Qingrou pulled strings” first started.

It was also Jiang Fei’s first move in reporting Jiang Qingrou’s brother.

Jiang Qingrou also knew that Jiang Fei would later end up replacing another girl who “unexpectedly” got sick and would shine at the audition, placing first and getting into the cultural troupe, while Jiang Qingrou would become the laughingstock.

Thinking of this, Jiang Qingrou’s hand clenched tighter around her mirror.

If she failed this audition, she would officially be branded as someone who relied on connections. That would be devastating for both her and her eldest brother. She had to make an impression. At the very least, she had to get into the cultural troupe.

In the original story, Jiang Qingrou didn’t make it in, didn’t want to be sent to the countryside, and then really did pull strings—an incident that eventually left behind hard evidence.

She couldn’t let that happen.

But the audition was for ethnic dance—and she had only ever trained in street dance, as an idol. The only ethnic dance she knew was Dai dance, which she learned from Douyin before transmigrating, because she saw a funny video and thought it looked amusing. She’d never had formal training—just learned it for fun.

Jiang Qingrou felt her head throbbing.

Just as she was about to close her eyes and think things through, the makeup room—which had only just quieted down—was suddenly disrupted by a surprised voice:

“Jiang Fei, why are you here?”