"That acting… it's genuinely painful to look at."
"Good lord, if someone like this can be an actress, I suddenly feel like I've got a shot too."
"Wen Nianshen, why don't you just go back to shooting fashion magazines? Why do you have to come here and butcher TV dramas?"
"I heard my favorite author just signed a film and TV deal. Please, please don't let it be something Miss Wen bought the rights to. I have a terrible feeling about this. Author, don't sell your soul for a little money, okay?"
Inside her dressing room, Wen Nianshen sat with her phone propped up, playing the latest episode of her newly released drama. On that strikingly beautiful, boldly expressive face, not a trace of distress crossed her features as she read the flood of comments tearing her apart onscreen. If anything, she seemed to be enjoying every single one.
Her assistant, Xiao Zhu, stood nearby pressing a hand to her own chest, anxiously watching her boss's reactions. Privately, she thought some of those comments were spot-on.
This Miss Wen was simply not cut out for acting. If she'd just stuck to fashion editorial shoots, she'd have plenty of fans—that face of hers was genuinely stunning, and the world had no shortage of people who worshipped beauty. But no. Armed with a family fortune and zero self-awareness, she had bulldozed her way through one beloved classic after another. No matter how many acclaimed actors she hired to anchor her productions, nothing could save a single one of them. By now, the name Wen Nianshen had earned itself a brand-new title: The Drama Demolisher.
There was no drama she couldn't ruin, and no one who came close to her record. Film after film, drama after drama—she swept through them all. One might assume an actress this catastrophically bad would never last in the industry. And one would be wrong. Because this particular catastrophe had deep pockets and deeper connections. The very people who swore they'd never bow to money ended up groveling at its feet, and the industry bent over backwards to accommodate her.
What baffled Xiao Zhu most was that Wen Nianshen could sit down and rewatch her own dramas—front to back, over and over—without any apparent shame. Maybe she genuinely loved acting. She just had not a single drop of talent for it.
Had Xiao Zhu looked a little more carefully, she might have noticed that Wen Nianshen's gaze was resting on the screen without truly seeing it. The smile curving her lips had nothing to do with the drama playing before her.
"Do you want some water before you keep watching, Nianshen?" Xiao Zhu turned to pour some. Early on, when she'd first become Wen Nianshen's assistant, she'd called her "Miss Wen." The very first time she did, Wen Nianshen had corrected her with complete seriousness: "You're Xiao Zhu, right? Don't call me Miss Wen from now on. Call me Nianshen."
Xiao Zhu assumed it was just a personal preference and followed suit. But later, once she'd gotten to know the other staff, she noticed everyone who addressed Wen Nianshen called her either "Nianshen" or simply "Nianshen"—older colleagues called her "little Nianshen." There seemed to be something almost fierce in the way Wen Nianshen clung to those two particular characters. Still later, she learned that Wen Nianshen hadn't always had that name—"Nianshen" was one she'd chosen for herself at sixteen.
Wen Nianshen snapped back to the present at Xiao Zhu's voice and shook her head. "No, thank you. Go on out. I'll watch by myself."
Xiao Zhu poured a glass anyway and set it beside her, then slipped out of the dressing room, pulling the door shut behind her.
"Will you appear in this life?"
No one was left to hear Wen Nianshen's voice, softened with a quiet sorrow. The eyes that had been smiling a moment ago let a single tear slip free.
"I suppose because I'm living too well, you won't come to me, will you? So this time, I'm not going to change my own fate. Then you'll come. You have to. You always do."
"A-Xin…"
In this lifetime, she had remembered everything at sixteen—every life she and A-Xin had lived together, stretching back across countless worlds.
Before this life, she had passed through many others. In the apocalypse, she had been Han Xiaojiao. Ever since they were separated in that world, A-Xin had not appeared once.
After the apocalypse, she was reborn as the well-bred daughter of a noble family in an ancient era. No memories at first—but even then, she dreamed of the life she and A-Xin had shared. From the time she was old enough to understand, she had known she was waiting for someone from those dreams. No matter where she was, she could never give her heart to anyone else.
She waited and waited. By the time she was old enough to be given in marriage, her memories had fully returned—and still A-Xin hadn't come.
Because she had always known what she was waiting for, she spent those years securing her position. She used the wisdom and abilities accumulated across every lifetime to claim every advantage available to her, including winning the rare right as a woman to choose her own marriage. Along the way, she happened to help an unfortunate young woman she found oddly familiar. There was something in that woman's spirit that reminded her intensely of her old friend Song Tiantian. After that chance encounter, they became close friends. The woman resembled Song Tiantian—and yet wasn't her. She had Song Tiantian's personality in places, but none of her memories.
That woman eventually found a happy life. But Wen Nianshen waited decades and A-Xin never came. Because of her standing, no one dared gossip about her choices, not even her parents. No one could force her into marriage.
At forty, she entered a monastery. She lived out the rest of her days with only the flame of a single lamp for company.
A-Xin never came. Not until death.
After that, she was reborn into a strange world—again without memories at first. Her standing was high once more, and she eventually came to understand she'd been born into a futuristic interstellar age. That world was full of breathtaking technology, and the higher one's rank, the more magnificent one's life. Extraordinary weapons and science governed everything; the secrets of the universe lay within reach.
Again, her memories surfaced at sixteen. Again, her family tried to arrange a political match. She settled the matter with a demonstration of force. And again, she crossed paths with that same unlucky soul—this time a modern-day transmigrator who'd been hauled off by a particularly fierce beastman. She stepped in without thinking, put her fist through a wall, scooped the poor thing up, and announced to the entire tribe: "This one's under my protection."
She'd noticed that every time her memories returned, her intelligence and combat ability spiked dramatically. Those hulking beastmen looked powerful, but she could send them flying without breaking a sweat.
The unlucky one was genuinely unlucky—practically every beastman in the vicinity wanted to claim her. It was a constant, irritating disruption to the quiet life she was trying to lead while she waited for A-Xin. Left with no choice, she knocked everyone flat, and somehow—entirely by accident, she swore—ended up founding a beastman empire. All she'd wanted was some peace and quiet.
The unlucky one eventually found a good partner and settled into a blissfully happy life, shamelessly flaunting her romance at every opportunity. To get back at her, Wen Nianshen handed the entire beastman empire over to her and struck out on her own.
A-Xin still didn't come. Not until her final breath.
As she died in that life, strange flashes crossed her mind—memories that weren't quite hers, and yet somehow were. They showed scenes from that beastman world, but not the version she had lived. In those fragments, things had gone very differently. Both she and the unlucky one had suffered terribly.
When those memories faded, she thought her death had finally come. But then another version appeared.
In this one—A-Xin was there.
She had wanted desperately to live again right then. The memory showed A-Xin arriving at her darkest moment to save her. After that, they had been happy for the rest of their lives. The unlucky one, too, had found her way to something good.
And then—this world.
Memories returning again at sixteen. Here, her family was extraordinarily wealthy. On the day of her awakening, she had a brief, peculiar glimpse of this world's underlying design—the trajectory it was meant to follow.
In that vision, she saw herself spending absurd amounts of money to buy up beloved story rights, casting herself as the lead in production after production, devastating each one in turn. She'd been about to intervene and redirect things when she remembered those final flashes before her last death.
If her guess was right, then A-Xin would only appear if she didn't alter the original path. Every life where A-Xin had come to her—hadn't it always been during her lowest, most desperate moments?
She had to let things unfold the way they were meant to. She had to suffer a little.
Only then would A-Xin come.
Wen Nianshen had looked over the shape of what was to come. In this life, she would offend two men. Together, they would drive the Wen family into bankruptcy. After that, she—pretty face and all—would still cling to the industry. But her days would no longer be easy.
The Wen family wouldn't just go bankrupt. They'd be drowning in debt.
She'd have to earn her way out. A ruined heiress commands no fawning, no flattery. She'd see the industry for what it really was—dark, corrupt, and suffocating. Many men would want to use her, and she would refuse. Some would retaliate, leaking compromising photos online. After clawing her way out of debt, she would develop severe depression, and eventually take her own life.
Coincidentally, this world also had that same unlucky soul.
The two men who would destroy the Wen family were rivals—both had set their sights on the unlucky one. Their mutual competition for her affection was what would drag Wen Nianshen into the crossfire. She was, in a way, her own kind of unlucky soul.
By her calculations, she was very nearly at the point of offending those two men.
One was Yuan Ye, heir to the Yuan family.
The other was Jing Songyuan, a sharp-eyed, iron-willed business mogul with a near-perfect track record in entertainment investment.
The cause? She had purchased the adaptation rights to a beloved classic and cast herself as the female lead. The unlucky one was set to play a supporting role opposite her. During filming, someone would engineer an accident that would injure the unlucky one. It would look like Wen Nianshen's doing. On the surface, everyone would blame Wen Nianshen—Yuan Ye and Jing Songyuan included. And they would make her pay.
"So what do I do?"
Wen Nianshen turned the dilemma over in her mind. She didn't want the unlucky one to break her leg. She didn't want to be used as someone's pawn. And she definitely didn't want the Wen family's bankruptcy to be genuine. That last part she could manage—she was the one running the Wen family now. She could engineer a controlled collapse, let people see her looking appropriately miserable, and call it done.
Being used as someone else's weapon, though—that she wanted no part of. And that poor unlucky one, living one wretched life after another. She was almost starting to feel sorry for her.
Wen Nianshen closed the video player, thinking through how best to make enemies of those two men, when an idea came to her and her eyes lit up.
If they both had their eyes on the unlucky one—why not pretend she did too? That would naturally turn both of them against her. And if she visibly took the unlucky one under her wing, she'd have every reason to make sure the girl didn't get hurt. The ones who'd staged the accident would find their trap empty.
Settled on this plan, Wen Nianshen called her manager, Pan Er.
"Pan."
"Nianshen?"
"Can you check—is there someone in our new production called Su Wei?"
"There is, actually. Rock-solid technique, fresh-faced and genuinely pretty. She's a newcomer—small fanbase, but fiercely loyal, with a good reputation. Nianshen, are you worried she'll steal your spotlight? Do you want me to—"
"Pan, you're overthinking it. I have absolutely zero interest in putting anyone down. I love being a pretty little vase—you know that better than anyone."
"Right, right, of course. My lady has more money than God and simply enjoys decorating herself as the world's most exquisite ornamental vase." Pan Er privately thought that if Wen Nianshen was a vase, she was an ancient, priceless antique worth a small fortune. "So why are you asking about Su Wei?"
"Just wanted to let you know—she's under my protection. Keep an eye out for her, and make sure no one gives her a hard time. Hardworking newcomers with actual talent don't come along very often. I need her around to make this vase of mine look good. I can't have her taken out of the picture."
Pan Er: "…" He had always suspected Wen Nianshen operated on a different frequency from the rest of humanity.
Every other actress in the industry fought tooth and nail to shake off labels like "vase" and "wooden actress." Not Wen Nianshen. She wore those words like a crown. The more the internet attacked her, the happier she seemed.
"Understood, my little empress."
Pan Er had no objections. He'd made peace long ago with the fact that his entire career would be spent in Wen Nianshen's orbit. If she wanted to play games, he and the rest of the team would play along.
After hanging up, Wen Nianshen scrolled through a collection of photos saved to her phone. Dozens of pictures—different faces, different women across different lifetimes. But each set of eyes carried the same thing: a gentle, quiet warmth, and a tenderness directed at someone they loved.
"Will you come this time, A-Xin? I've missed you so long and so intensely I've practically become an artist. I could paint your face from memory with my eyes closed—especially those beautiful eyes of yours."
"A-Xin, I'm waiting. Please don't leave me to live this life alone."
"The Wen family won't go bankrupt on its own. The unlucky one won't suffer on her own. If you don't come—Wen Nianshen's fate will unfold exactly as it's meant to, and it will be terrible. Only you can change it."
#WenNianshenNewDrama#TheDramaDemolisherIsBackToStrikeAgain
The moment news broke that Wen Nianshen had a new production in the works, it shot straight to the top of trending searches, drawing an avalanche of commentary and outrage from across the internet.
By this time, Wen Nianshen had already arrived on set—and come face to face with that oddly familiar unlucky soul.
A crowd of people hovered around Wen Nianshen, offering pleasantries and refreshments, the picture of deference to someone they couldn't afford to offend.
Su Wei, meanwhile, sat alone on a small folding stool, upright and unobtrusive, with only her little assistant for company. She was a rising talent—solid technique, a look that played well with audiences, a clean reputation. In this industry, those things made enemies as easily as they made fans. The actresses who'd lost roles to her didn't bother hiding their contempt. Su Wei couldn't afford to antagonize any of them. She kept her head down, smiled softly, and quietly clenched her fists.
Even when Wen Nianshen walked right up to her, she almost forgot to speak.
"Nianshen." The greeting came out a little flat. Su Wei felt the gleeful stares of the women around her and tensed even further. Wen Nianshen was a walking fortune—this was her production. If she'd decided Su Wei was a problem, Su Wei's career was finished before it started.
"Su Wei, right?"
"Yes, Nianshen."
"I've seen your work. Your acting is very good."
Su Wei's nerves went haywire. Was this the move? Compliment her to her face, then crush her behind her back? If Wen Nianshen had genuinely decided to make her life difficult, she'd have nowhere to go. She'd fought so hard for this role. The thought of losing it stung.
"Keep it up. I think you've got real potential."
"I—what?" Su Wei blinked. Wasn't this the part where she was supposed to be subtly threatened?
"Come sit with me."
Su Wei's jaw nearly dropped. Around her, every pair of eyes watching for drama practically fell out of their heads. Wen Nianshen—the notoriously oblivious, talent-free human vase—was extending a warm, genuine invitation to an up-and-coming actress with actual skill and a pretty face? Nobody could believe it.
Su Wei followed, slightly dazed, and sat beside Wen Nianshen. The ears around them sharpened. When Wen Nianshen began casually making it known—in the way only someone with absolute confidence can—that Su Wei was under her protection, the gossip-hungry crowd quietly folded their plans.
Those who disliked Su Wei didn't suddenly become fans, of course. But they did become quieter about it.
The drama being filmed was a historical period piece. The accident happened during a wire-work fight sequence between Wen Nianshen and Su Wei. Someone had tampered with the rigging. Su Wei was supposed to take a fall—a bad one, enough to break her leg.
No matter who had actually done it, everyone would point to Wen Nianshen. And the two men currently competing for Su Wei's attention—Yuan Ye and Jing Songyuan—would have all the reason they needed to begin targeting the Wen family.
That was how it was supposed to go.
This time, though—
Just as the rigging gave way, Wen Nianshen switched places with Su Wei.
She glanced around casually and caught a flash of panic in one of the supporting actresses' eyes, quickly buried under a mask of barely concealed excitement. Wen Nianshen looked away with a quiet smile.
So that was your play. You thought I'd blame Su Wei. Adorable.
She'd see just how miserable she needed to look before A-Xin came for her. With her reflexes, a fall from this height wouldn't break anything. Scraped at worst.
"Don't be nervous," Wen Nianshen said lightly.
Su Wei caught her smile, let out a breath, and nodded. She slipped back into character. The two of them were lifted into the air on their wires, following the choreography.
Wen Nianshen felt it first—a slight drop. Then another, more pronounced, as the harness connection point began to work loose with each motion. When Su Wei swept into her next move, the mechanism holding Wen Nianshen gave out entirely.
She plummeted.
A chorus of horrified gasps rose from everyone on set.
Wen Nianshen had already calculated her landing. She adjusted her body mid-fall, certain she'd hit the ground rolling.
Screams filled the air. Xiao Zhu's was loudest. A close second was the unlucky Su Wei, still dangling in the air above, flailing in panic—face white as chalk, tears streaming down.
Just as Wen Nianshen prepared to tuck into a roll—her body stopped moving.
Two hands—warm, surprisingly soft—wrapped around her waist.
Her back came to rest against something yielding, not hard.
She went very still. Someone had caught her?
She'd looked down before the fall. There had been no one close enough to reach her in time. So how—
"Are you all right?"
The voice that reached her was so gentle it sent a tremor through her chest. Wen Nianshen lifted her eyes to the face of the person holding her—and froze completely.
A pair of eyes she knew as well as her own reflection looked back at her.
"Wen Nianshen?" A-Xin said quietly. "Are you okay?"
"I—" Wen Nianshen's mind caught up with her body. She threw her arms around the person she had waited lifetimes for, buried her face against A-Xin's shoulder, and murmured, "I'm… I'm dizzy. I feel so dizzy."
"Nianshen, are you all right?"
"Nianshen, what's wrong?" The entire crew converged, voices overlapping with concern.
Everyone seemed to forget Su Wei, still dangling overhead. Not that Su Wei minded—Nianshen was safe, and that was enough. She'd registered only a blur of motion before the slender woman had somehow gotten beneath Nianshen and caught her. Whoever this person was, she was incredible.
"Director Ruan, should we send Nianshen to the hospital first?"
"I'm not going to the hospital. I just need to rest a moment. I'm only dizzy."
The kind of dizzy that only wants to stay in someone's arms forever. Single people would never understand.
"Nianshen, would you like to lie down in the dressing room?"
"That's fine."
Wen Nianshen kept her face tucked against A-Xin's shoulder, arms wound tight around her, and let herself be carried to the dressing room. Even when A-Xin tried to set her down on the couch, she refused to let go. She pressed her eyes shut and performed her best impression of someone deeply unconscious.
Xiao Zhu watched and said carefully, "Director Ruan, you might want to try setting her down—your hand is going to fall asleep."
A-Xin tried. Wen Nianshen's grip only tightened.
A-Xin laughed softly. "It's fine. You go on ahead."
"Oh… all right. Sorry to trouble you, Director Ruan."
Director Ruan is a woman, after all, Xiao Zhu thought as she stepped out. A gentle one, too. Nianshen will be perfectly safe.
Wen Nianshen, still pretending to sleep, felt a wave of deeply satisfied warmth.
Good thing I'm clever enough to fake it.
A-Xin was here. Her A-Xin had finally come.
Just as she'd always known—she had to live a little worse, face a little danger, before A-Xin would find her way to her.
A-Xin glanced sideways at the very unconvincing sleeping person and smiled to herself, making no move to call her out.
This world was the strangest one yet. Wen Nianshen was living well—so why had she been the one to wake A-Xin? What had drawn her here?