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Chapter 1: Unlucky Constitution — Misfortunes at Every Turn

【I always thought she wasn’t a good person. See? Now she’s exposed as a mistress. Disgusting homewrecker. I’m gonna puke.】

【She actually lives in a billionaire’s mansion! My god, her sugar daddy must be super generous.】

【She is pretty, and her body’s banging. If I had money, I’d go for someone like her too, haha.】

【Damn, I watched Zhong Yang’s short video—so hot! ❤️❤️】

【She definitely got cast as the female lead in Wen Ci Zhuan because of some greasy middle-aged man! I bet she was shoved into the role of second female lead in Bright Moon Listens to the Waves the same way.】

【Totally agree. Heard the second lead was supposed to be He Muya, but they swapped in Zhong Yang last minute.】

【Strongly demand a new female lead for Wen Ci Zhuan! We must boycott morally corrupt entertainers!】

【I was really looking forward to this drama, but now that she’s in it, I’m out. Goodbye.】

【I’m done. I just became a fan of hers from Bright Moon Listens to the Waves, and now this scandal breaks. Please don’t let the show get taken down!!】

—

Rainy season weather is always unpredictable. Moments ago, the sky was dark and stormy, now it had suddenly cleared, leaving only a heavy humidity in the air.

Zhong Yang stood in front of a large floor-to-ceiling window in cartoon pajamas, scrolling through her phone, bathed in the orange-red glow of sunset. Her misty eyes flickered with a hint of mockery.

“Three years of acting, and I haven’t even hit 500,000 followers. One year of scandal, and hate comments are already close to 1.5 million. Now that’s impressive.”

She pressed a button to draw the curtains, shutting out the chaos of the outside world, and got ready to watch a classic old movie.

Bzz Bzz Bzz.

She casually answered the phone. A sweet voice came from the other end: “Yangyang, the rain’s stopped. Wanna come out and play?”

“Broke. Can’t afford to play.” Zhong Yang refused bluntly, flopping back onto the big sofa and staring at the ceiling.

The caller was Xu Youyou—a classic rich second-generation heiress. Her hobby was having fun, and her foray into acting was just for kicks. She took on roles sporadically, never aiming to achieve anything.

They met during Zhong Yang’s first web drama. Two unknown actresses who just clicked and chatted every day.

Xu Youyou rolled her eyes, “One of us has money, isn’t that enough? Don’t make excuses. You’ve been cooped up at home so long you’re probably growing moss. How are you not going crazy?”

Zhong Yang smiled. “Your Highness, I’ve been home studying art theory, film history, directing, screenwriting, script development, set design… plus cooking, washing dishes, lifting weights, and doing yoga every day. I’m very busy.”

Xu Youyou replied, “Hard-working and still unlucky. Maybe you should just give up and lie flat?”

“…”

She wasn’t wrong. In Zhong Yang’s 24 years of life, luck had never been on her side.

Small things: guessing on a test always meant getting it wrong, never winning the lottery, and always pulling the “thank you for playing” cap on a soda bottle.

Big things: a broken family, failed relationships, and a career filled with endless setbacks.

Take just this past month—she sent her resume to five productions. Four didn’t even invite her to audition. The one she did get into passed on her because her reputation was too toxic. No crew dared to hire her.

There was a world of difference between dreams and reality.

For someone like Zhong Yang, cursed with an unlucky fate, the road ahead felt endless and hopeless.

Last summer, when she was 23, the scorching sun made people dizzy, and the heatwaves off the asphalt distorted reality.

She had been sleepless for three months, checking Weibo every day, watching every hateful comment scroll past her blank eyes.

That habit stayed with her into the summer of age 24—this very moment.

The only difference was that now, she no longer panicked.

Outwardly calm. Inwardly, only a bit of self-deprecation.

Zhong Yang sighed, got up, and walked to a door. The 30-square-meter walk-in closet held only a sparse row of clothes. The rest was empty.

She had just made 20,000 yuan—by selling her last luxury handbag.

Looking at her bank balance of 20,289.23 yuan, she sighed again.

After the scandal, she first had to pay 450,000 yuan in breach-of-contract penalties. Then no roles came in. She had no other marketable skills and had to rely on odd jobs to make money.

But every time she tried, someone would recognize her, point fingers, post about her online, and trigger another wave of public shaming. The companies she worked for would be affected, and in the end, she’d be fired.

So she gave up and decided to stretch her limited savings for a year—study, prepare for grad school, get healthy. That way, it wouldn’t feel like wasted time.

But slowly, the money ran out, and she had to start selling her belongings just to survive.

Now there was nothing left to sell.

Zhong Yang sat in a corner, long lashes casting small shadows under the light.

One thought had lingered in her heart for a long time—Should she sell this apartment too?

She currently lived in Xiangming Huafu, in the most prosperous part of the capital, near the country’s best schools and hospitals. It was a “name your price” kind of place—easily worth 150 million yuan.

If she sold it, she could pay off the 150 million penalty to Yuntian Entertainment, become a completely free person, reclaim her voice, and escape the company’s control.

Then she could get a simple job, support herself through grad school prep, and live peacefully.

But the apartment meant so much to her. She couldn’t bear to let it go. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have held on this long.

Maybe this was fate—after a year of struggle and hesitation, she’d come back to this same point.

Zhong Yang pressed her lips together and messaged her realtor:

【zy: I’ve decided. Sell it.】

She shook her head, brushing off the complicated feelings.

Since she’d made her decision, she wouldn’t waver. In a couple of years, when people forgot these sordid gossip stories, maybe she could go back to acting as a minor character. If not, she’d work behind the scenes. Directing, writing, set design, editing—she could do it all.

Zhong Yang changed out of her pajamas and picked out a burgundy camisole and floor-length dark blue jeans from her limited wardrobe.

Thanks to a year of daily workouts, she was in better shape than ever. Lean but strong, with natural curves and striking proportions.

She ran her fingers through her wavy black hair, skipped the makeup, put on lipstick, and left—headed straight to the location Xu Youyou had sent her.

【zy: Your Highness, I’m coming.】

【yoyo: Yesss! Hurry up!】

——

The lights flashed brilliantly. Deafening bass pounded through the hearts of the young men and women on the dance floor, wild and noisy.

Zhong Yang had never been to this bar before. She couldn’t find Xu Youyou at first, and her messages went unanswered.

She figured Xu Youyou was probably too busy dancing to check her phone, so she didn’t look any further. Quietly, she moved away from the crazy central dance floor and headed to a quiet corner near the bar to wait.

“What the fuck, are you blind?”

“Sorry, sorry.”

The passageway was narrow. Zhong Yang accidentally stepped on someone’s foot, quickly apologized, and took a step back—only to bump into someone else behind her.

A woody scent filled her nose.

Amid the alcohol, smoke, and human sweat, it was strikingly pleasant.

Zhong Yang froze for a second, then quickly stepped away from the stranger’s chest.

“Sorry, so sorry…”

She didn’t even look up at the man’s face before turning away, eager to escape the crowded space.

Suddenly, her wrist was grabbed, and she was pulled back—stumbling once again into a man’s embrace.

Only this time, it was face to face. Their body heat met through two thin layers of fabric—closely pressed together.

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