Duan Qi was a highly popular idol with a massive fan base, yet his acting skills had been under constant scrutiny for years. This year, he finally had a shot at a Golden Horse Award nomination.

At such a critical moment, the last thing he wanted was any negative publicity.

Since his relationship with Tang Jin became public, Duan Qi’s popularity had surged significantly.

Tang Jin had always maintained a clean image, but this time was different. The incident had blown up across the internet, inevitably dragging her boyfriend, Duan Qi, into the storm.

Both of their teams were working tirelessly to control the damage. Meanwhile, Duan Qi headed to the Tang family estate to comfort his girlfriend.

Tang Jin had canceled all her recent engagements and stayed home, avoiding the media entirely.

“Duan Qi,” Tang Jin said, her voice tinged with grievance, “how can they say such things about me?”

“Online opinions are fickle. Just wait it out; this will pass,” Duan Qi reassured her. “I looked into it—apparently, that double has signed with Hua Rui.”

Duan Qi added, “I suspect this whole thing was orchestrated by Hua Rui’s team. Ye Fan is a newcomer; they’re likely trying to boost her popularity by dragging you down.”

He was well aware of Tang Jin’s personality. As the only daughter of the Tang family, she had always had a bit of a spoiled, princess-like demeanor.

In reality, Ye Fan’s team hadn’t done much—just leveraged the situation by publishing a few promotional articles praising her professionalism.

Previously, Tang Jin’s PR team had been excellent at managing her image, but her actual abilities were average. Now, her entitled behavior had caused public opinion to backfire, with netizens overwhelmingly criticizing her.

What the public resented most was Tang Jin’s attitude.

Tang Jin had let Ye Fan stand in for her during the most challenging action scenes—even for intimate scenes—yet she had the audacity to claim in interviews and on social media how “tough” acting was for her.

In contrast, Ye Fan, a stunningly beautiful young woman, not only worked hard but remained humble. She never once complained about the hardships of acting.

The comparison was glaringly obvious. Other than lacking Tang Jin’s privileged background, Ye Fan excelled in every other way—her acting, appearance, and overall talent outshone Tang Jin.

Seeing the comments on Weibo, Tang Jin furiously threw her phone. “She’s just my body double!”

“She’s nothing but a fake! Why should she get anything?”

Tang Jin repeated the word “fake” over and over, completely forgetting who the real imposter was.

She had taken over someone else’s life, posing as the Tang family’s heiress for years and stealing everything that rightfully belonged to the original.

What Tang Jin didn’t realize was that everything she had wrongfully claimed would eventually be reclaimed by Ye Fan.

Sitting beside her, Duan Qi couldn’t help but feel the awkward tension in the air. Unlike Tang Jin, he had no influential background to rely on. He’d worked his way up step by step, just like Ye Fan.

Meanwhile, Tang Jin’s team was under immense pressure, working around the clock to salvage her reputation. They had been pulling all-nighters for several days in a desperate attempt to repair her public image.

In the early hours of the morning, Tang Jin’s studio released a legal notice, targeting several aggressive Weibo accounts. “In response to the defamatory statements circulating online, we have decided to pursue legal action…”

The controversy between Tang Jin and Ye Fan had generated an overwhelming amount of attention. Many people criticized Tang Jin, digging into her alleged history of diva-like behavior and her team’s marketing tactics.

Even deleting comments was futile—netizens were posting faster than the team could erase them.

The release of the legal notice managed to suppress the backlash to some extent.

“People spreading rumors deserve to be sued. Let’s clear Miss Tang Jin’s name!”

“Supporting the studio! Hang in there, Xiao Jin—we’ll always stand by you.”

“…”

Tang Jin had been in the industry for years, with a strong foundation and a loyal fanbase. Despite the criticism from netizens, her fans were steadfast in their support.

The tide of public opinion shifted slightly in her favor, but the discussions soon reignited.

“Tang Jin’s studio issued a legal notice. Do you think this might turn things around?”

“Turn things around? How? The fact that Ye Fan was her double—is that somehow fake?”

“Didn’t you notice who the studio actually sued? None of the people who mentioned her using a double were targeted. They only went after minor accounts with irrelevant comments.”

“Isn’t it obvious? The ones saying she used a double are telling the truth—they wouldn’t dare sue them.”

“…”

Sharp-eyed netizens quickly noticed that the Weibo accounts targeted by Tang Jin’s studio were only those making mild accusations.

For example, comments about Tang Jin relying on her family’s resources, criticizing her poor acting skills, or engaging in baseless name-calling.

However, remarks mocking Tang Jin for letting her double, Ye Fan, perform all the action and intimate scenes during filming were merely deleted—and constantly reappeared—but not a single one of those commenters was sued.

It was obvious to anyone paying attention that this was a PR tactic. The legal notice seemed more like a ploy to placate fans than a genuine effort to address the allegations.

Tang Jin reduced her workload and stayed out of the public eye. After the studio issued the legal notice, things quieted down, and the uproar over the stunt double incident finally subsided.

…

Ye Li sat in front of her computer, skimming through the latest news.

Recently, discussions about Tang Jin and Ye Fan had dominated Weibo and major forums.

She hadn’t expected Ye Fan, who used to be just a background actress, to gain so much fame.

What annoyed Ye Li the most was the thought that Ye Fan must have made a lot of money by now—yet she still refused to spare any pocket money for her.

These days, Ye Fan hadn’t returned home once, nor had she answered any of Ye Li’s calls. The thought of it made Ye Li even angrier.

With practiced ease, Ye Li opened Weibo and logged in. The top trending topic was about Duan Qi.

Duan Qi’s new endorsement deal had just been officially announced.

Ye Li had been a fan of Duan Qi since middle school. As usual, she clicked into his Weibo and left a comment under his latest post:

“Congratulations on the new endorsement! Now break up with Tang Jin already.”

Not stopping there, Ye Li posted another Weibo update:

“#TangJinGetOutOfTheEntertainmentIndustry# Ugly, terrible at acting, and morally questionable.”

Although Nie Weiru had never told Ye Li outright that Tang Jin was her biological sister, Ye Li had taken an instant dislike to Tang Jin the moment she saw her on TV.

Tang Jin and Ye Li did bear a slight resemblance to each other, but Tang Jin was the pampered heiress of the Tang family, while Ye Li was just an ordinary college student.

Ye Li couldn’t accept it. Why should Tang Jin enjoy wealth and luxury while she, someone who looked a little like her, was stuck living a hard life?

Later on, Duan Qi and Tang Jin went public with their relationship.

After years of idolizing Duan Qi, finding out he was dating someone who looked like her only fueled Ye Li’s disdain for Tang Jin. As a die-hard “girlfriend fan” of Duan Qi, Ye Li utterly loathed Tang Jin.

Perhaps it was the strange pull between sisters, but Ye Li spent more time following Tang Jin’s activities than she did keeping up with Duan Qi.

Day after day, Ye Li trashed Tang Jin online, tirelessly digging up and spreading every shred of negative gossip she could find as she found great satisfaction in her efforts.

…

Nie Weiru, on the other hand, had been closely following the news about Tang Jin. Seeing the overwhelming criticism online directed at Tang Jin made her heart ache.

When Nie Weiru saw footage of Tang Jin being cornered by reporters, awkwardly avoiding the cameras, her hands began to tremble.

Tang Jin had always been so glamorous and polished—when had she ever been reduced to such a humiliating state? This was all Ye Fan’s fault.

Swallowing her fury, Nie Weiru immediately called Ye Fan and ordered her to come home at once.

Ye Fan wasn’t surprised when she received Nie Weiru’s call. A cold smile tugged at her lips. If Nie Weiru wanted to “reason” with her, then so be it—she’d be more than happy to have that conversation.

Ye Fan played with Dudu for a good while before finally setting out and leaving home. The moment she walked through the door, Nie Weiru’s angry voice greeted her.

“The internet is saying you were Tang Jin’s double. Is that true? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Nie Weiru had always believed Ye Fan was just a small-time, insignificant actress—someone who could never pose a threat to Tang Jin’s interests.

Had she known earlier that Ye Fan was Tang Jin’s double, she would have stopped Ye Fan from taking that drama role no matter what.

Ye Fan looked up at Nie Weiru, her expression calm as she replied, “And if I was?”

Nie Weiru froze.

Ye Fan’s voice remained indifferent. “Was there any reason for me to tell you?”

Nie Weiru stared at Ye Fan, feeling as though she could no longer understand her. At some point, Ye Fan had changed, and she couldn’t figure out when or how it had happened.

It was still the same face, yet Nie Weiru found herself unable to muster the courage to raise her voice at Ye Fan.

Remembering how Ye Fan had cut off her credit card, Nie Weiru swallowed her anger and forced herself to soften her tone.

“Why don’t you tell the media that while you were Tang Jin’s double, she still did a lot of her own scenes? This has blown up too much—it’s not good for you either…”

Before she could finish, Ye Fan abruptly set her teacup down on the table with a dull thud.

Nie Weiru instantly fell silent.

Ye Fan slowly retracted her hand, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze settled on Nie Weiru, calm and unhurried.

With a faint glance in Nie Weiru’s direction, Ye Fan spoke evenly, her tone unbothered.

“Why should I?”

The action was simple and understated, yet when done by Ye Fan, it exuded an effortless elegance. Every movement was poised, as if she had been born to command attention.

But to Nie Weiru, there was something unsettling about it.

Ye Fan’s eyes were unnervingly calm, piercing straight into Nie Weiru’s soul. All of Nie Weiru’s little schemes felt as if they were laid bare under that gaze, leaving her nowhere to hide.

Nie Weiru froze but quickly straightened her back, recalling Tang Jin’s pitiful state.

“You still plan to have a career in the entertainment industry, don’t you? Maintaining a good relationship with a big star like Tang Jin is important. If you don’t listen to me now, you’ll only regret it later.”

Her reasoning sounded as if she had Ye Fan’s best interests at heart, but in reality, she was asking Ye Fan to yield to Tang Jin.

Ye Fan suddenly laughed, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes—it was cold. “You seem awfully concerned about Tang Jin.”

Nie Weiru panicked, struggling to maintain her facade of composure.

Ye Fan’s smile vanished, replaced by a frosty expression. “Since the moment I walked through the door, all you’ve done is tell me to defer to Tang Jin. Have you forgotten? I’m her double. The criticism she’s facing now is exactly what she deserves.”

A hint of mockery flickered in Ye Fan’s eyes as she continued, “I’d like to ask you something—what exactly is your relationship with Tang Jin? Is she really so important to you?”

Nie Weiru’s face turned ashen.

Ye Fan’s tone grew colder, her gaze sharp and piercing.

“Oh, and let me remind you of something—Tang Jin is a big star. Even if you go out of your way to defend her, she won’t remember or care about your loyalty.”

She spoke slowly, her voice clear and precise, echoing in Nie Weiru’s ears.

“After all, you two are strangers.”

Every word Ye Fan spoke was a subtle jab at Nie Weiru. It was her fault that Tang Jin had been switched with the original daughter, and now, after all these years, the child she abandoned was nothing more than a stranger to her.

This was all Nie Weiru’s doing.

Each word felt like a sharp knife, cutting straight into Nie Weiru’s heart. She opened her mouth but remained silent.

Ye Fan didn’t spare her another glance. She stood up, preparing to leave. Just then, the door to the room opened, and Ye Li stepped out.

After taking some satisfaction in trolling Tang Jin online, Ye Li felt pretty good. Spotting Ye Fan, she said, “Sis, you haven’t sent me any living expenses for a while.”

Ye Fan paused, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Her tone was indifferent as she replied, “Want money? Ask your mom.”

Ye Fan glanced at the table, where several magazines were stacked, each featuring Tang Jin on the cover.

Ye Fan let out a cold laugh, subtly provoking, “She has plenty of money to buy Tang Jin’s magazines.”

Ye Li glanced at the table and saw a stack of Tang Jin’s magazines. She immediately started complaining, “Mom, you’re way past the age for this. Aren’t you embarrassed to be following some celebrity like this?”

“And Tang Jin is a nasty piece of work.” Ye Li ignored Nie Weiru’s increasingly dark expression and continued, “What a waste of money. You should’ve bought me a few new outfits instead.”

Nie Weiru snapped, “Shut up.”

Ye Li continued unabashedly, “What did I say wrong? Tang Jin messed up and still won’t admit it.”

“If you ask me, the people online are right—she deserves to be criticized even more, and Duan Qi should break up with her. She doesn’t deserve to be with him.”

Nie Weiru suddenly raised her voice, “Shut your mouth!”

She stepped forward and grabbed Ye Li’s ear, scolding her, “You want new clothes, huh? Then go get a job! You’re grown now, but all you do is ask me for money. Why don’t you bring in some money and help out at home?”

Ye Li hissed in pain but didn’t dare to retort. She muttered under her breath, “I’m your real daughter—why are you defending Tang Jin so much?”

Ye Li already disliked Tang Jin, but seeing Nie Weiru’s attitude, her hatred for Tang Jin only grew stronger.

Tang Jin not only stole her boyfriend, but now she was also stealing her mom. Tang Jin seemed to take all the advantages.

Ye Li didn’t dare to voice her thoughts, but deep down, she felt Tang Jin deserved to be criticized. She seethed with anger, planning to post more negative things about Tang Jin once she got to her room.

Ye Fan watched the two of them argue, her gaze cold.

Whenever it came to Tang Jin, Nie Weiru would lose her composure. Eventually, Ye Li would realize something was off about her.

When Ye Li discovered that Tang Jin was her real sister, she would certainly go after her. After all, that was the Tang family, a renowned and wealthy conglomerate—Ye Li would want a share of that.

By then, Ye Fan wouldn’t need to lift a finger. These people would tear each other apart, and none of them would escape unscathed.

With that thought, Ye Fan walked out, leaving without looking back.

Ye Fan left Nie Weiru’s house with a calm expression, as if the events that had just unfolded had nothing to do with her. Her mood remained entirely unaffected.

She even made a special trip to the mall to buy Dudu a new set of pajamas.

At 8 p.m., the full moon hung high in the sky, casting a cold, silvery light. The temperature had dropped significantly compared to the daytime, and the warm night breeze swept by, offering a refreshing coolness.

When Ye Fan arrived home, Dudu, as usual, rushed over the moment the door opened, unable to be stopped.

“Carry me!” Dudu tugged at Ye Fan’s shirt, cooing and pouting in an adorable way that made one’s heart melt. Ye Fan casually shut the door, then scooped Dudu up.

“How about a kiss for baby?” Ye Fan smiled, playfully asking.

Dudu nodded enthusiastically like a little garlic bulb: “Mommy, give baby’s chubby cheeks a kiss.”

Dudu eagerly pressed his chubby face toward Ye Fan’s, causing her to almost be suffocated by the soft, pudgy cheeks.

Ye Fan held her breath and kissed Dudu’s face several times.

They played for a while by the doorway before Ye Fan took off her shoes and stepped inside. “Let’s take a bath.”

Ye Fan had bathed Dudu several times by now, and her movements were becoming more skilled. She no longer accidentally got water in Dudu’s eyes. In no time, she had Dudu clean and fresh.

Dudu, dressed in freshly washed pajamas, gave off a soft, milky scent.

Ye Fan moved a small stool for Dudu to stand on, and in the bathroom mirror, their reflections—one large, one small—appeared side by side.

Although Dudu didn’t look exactly like Ye Fan, his facial features carried faint traces of her.

Ye Fan squeezed the toothpaste and said, “Open your mouth, baby.” Dudu obediently followed her instruction.

Ye Fan carefully brushed his teeth. The experience wasn’t pleasant for Dudu, and he scrunched up his face, but he remained still, obediently letting her finish.

Ye Fan moved carefully, worried that the toothbrush might accidentally poke Dudu’s face. Dudu already didn’t like brushing his teeth, and she was afraid that any mishap would make him even more resistant.

“All done, Dudu. Spit out the foam.” As soon as Dudu saw that his teeth were brushed, he quickly pulled his head back. He didn’t like brushing his teeth, but he always listened to Ye Fan.

“Remember, don’t swallow it.”

Dudu, who had almost swallowed the toothpaste, pulled back and reluctantly spit it out. Ye Fan had bought fruity or chocolate-flavored toothpaste to make it more appealing to Dudu while he was learning to brush.

Dudu didn’t understand why he had to spit out something so tasty.

Ye Fan filled a glass of water and handed it to him. Dudu held the cup with both hands, eagerly gulping down a large sip.

Mimicking what Ye Fan had taught him, Dudu puffed his cheeks and swished the water in his mouth.

Ye Fan had just rinsed off the toothbrush and hung it back on the wall when she suddenly remembered something and quickly turned around.

“Dudu, no drinking!”

But it was too late. By the time Ye Fan called out, Dudu had already swallowed the sweet, chocolate-flavored mouthwash.

Dudu smacked his lips a few times. “So sweet!”

Ye Fan picked up a damp little towel and wiped Dudu’s face. “No matter how delicious it is, you’re not supposed to drink mouthwash.”

She poked Dudu’s chubby belly. “Are you a little pig? You want to eat everything!”

=^_^=