The C-Tier rehearsal hall was no longer a place of ambition; for Shanshan, it had become a tomb. She stood in the back row of the choir, her grey tracksuit hanging off her frame. Her voice, once a vibrant, defiant flame, was now a thin, reedy whistle.
She wasn't singing. she was merely moving her lips to the click-track, her eyes fixed on a scuff mark on the floor.
"402! Projection!" the vocal coach barked, slamming his palm against the piano. "You sound like you're dying. This is a celebratory anthem for the mid-season gala. Give me joy!"
Shanshan looked up, her gaze hollow. "Joy is an expensive overhead, sir. I'm afraid I've been liquidated."
The coach sputtered, but before he could shout, the double doors at the back of the hall swung open. Lu Yan walked in, flanked by two assistants carrying tablets. He wasn't wearing his usual suit; he was in a relaxed cashmere sweater, looking every bit the "benevolent" savior.
"Leave us," Lu Yan commanded, his voice smooth and indisputable.
The coach and the other contestants scrambled out, casting pitying, fearful glances at Shanshan. Within seconds, the room was silent, the high-performance lights buzzing with a low, predatory hum.
Lu Yan walked toward her, stopping just outside her personal space. "You look terrible, Shanshan. It's heartbreaking to see such a 'vixen' reduced to a ghost."
"Did you come here to watch the ghost, or to finish the job?" Shanshan asked, her voice a jagged shard of glass.
Lu Yan sighed, a sound of feigned disappointment. "I came to offer a correction. Meilin... she's a complicated woman. She's cold, yes. She's a Li. She thinks in spreadsheets. But I think even she regretted signing that termination order for your mother's wing."
Shanshan's head snapped up. "Regretted it? She told me it was 'business.' She told me I was a liability."
"She has a reputation to uphold," Lu Yan said, stepping closer. He reached out, his fingers hovering near Shanshan's cheek, though he didn't touch her. "But I couldn't sit by and watch a talent like yours be extinguished by a corporate auditor's pen. I've personally assumed the costs for Mrs. Lin's care. She's been moved to a private Lu family facility. She's safe, Shanshan. Safer than she ever was under the Lis."
Shanshan felt the air leave her lungs. The relief was so violent it felt like a physical blow, followed immediately by a wave of nauseating confusion. "You... you saved her? Why?"
"Because I value what is unique," Lu Yan whispered, his eyes gleaming with a dark, possessive light. "Meilin sees a tool. I see a masterpiece. She wanted to break you to prove a point to her father. I want to mend you to prove a point to the world."
He pulled a small, glass vial from his pocket—a high-end vocal restorative. He pressed it into Shanshan's hand.
"She hates you now, Shanshan. She thinks she's won. She thinks she's successfully 'liquidated' the distraction you caused. Don't let her be right. Sing at the gala. Sing like you're trying to tear the sky down. Show her that the Lu family protects what the Li family discards."
Shanshan looked at the vial, her fingers trembling. She didn't trust him. She knew Lu Yan was a shark. But he was a shark who had just put air back into her mother's lungs, while Meilin had been the one to pull the plug.
In the observation booth, Meilin stood behind the one-way glass, her fingers dug so deeply into the ledge that the wood was beginning to splinter. She could see Lu Yan leaning in. she could see the "saviour" act in full swing.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to smash the glass and tell Shanshan that every word out of Lu Yan's mouth was a calculated poison. But she couldn't. If she spoke, the "Personal Asset" contract would be triggered, and Lu Yan would move Mrs. Lin back to a facility where he could kill her with a single keystroke.
Meilin watched as Shanshan nodded slowly, tucking the vial into her pocket.
The betrayal was complete. Shanshan now believed that her enemy was her savior, and her protector was her executioner.
Meilin leaned her forehead against the cold glass, a silent sob racking her body. She had saved the girl's mother, but she had lost the girl's soul.