Chapter 113: Online PK

“What do you mean? Fang Wei, listen to me—don’t forget who you are,” Yin Shanshan snapped, her voice climbing as she spoke. “You’ve been away from the stage for so long; do you really think people still want your old song requests? It was only because I pressured the production team to put up the money for your concert. Without me, forget a meet-and-greet— even an outdoor charity music festival might not have let you in.”

The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. When she was done, silence settled over the RV for a long moment. Fang Wei lowered her head and did not speak for a long while.

Only then did Yin Shanshan realize she had gone too far, but she was never a woman who apologized.

She tapped the folder on her lap twice, kept her expression cold, and added, “Think it over. I’m doing this for your own good.”

With that, she stood up and left the RV.

Soon after, only Fang Wei’s muffled sobs were heard inside—but no one noticed.

By that afternoon, the news that Fang Wei would hold a concert spread like wildfire. She had once been a former pop song princess; her comeback was notable enough on its own, and now, with a concert on the near horizon, her old fans erupted and began promoting it on their own.

Yet somehow, whether by accident or design, none of the promotion mentioned it was an outdoor concert. Even those farther away could not get tickets; they could only watch through the live stream room of the variety show.

The promotion roared ahead. That afternoon, after a fresh group of sponsors came on board, Su Wanning’s marketplace campaign set a new sales high. That evening, during reconciliation, the staff burst into cheers. Su Wanning was generous, handing every single person a thick red envelope.

“Thanks, Sister Su!”
“Su’s the real deal!”

The workers around her were delighted, smiling as they clustered around her. Though it pained her a little financially, Su Wanning knew the investment was necessary. The event had been organized in such haste that getting this far had required all of their help.

Not far away, Yin Shanshan watched this scene with jealousy she could no longer conceal. There had been a time when only she was surrounded by people like this on the show, but gradually the spotlight had somehow already shifted to Su Wanning. On her side, in contrast, there was only a growing emptiness.

From across from her, Fang Wei sensed her displeasure and said, “Don’t worry. Our event will be popular too.”

“Of course it will,” Yin added, forcing calm. “You need to prepare well. Don’t waste the trouble I and the show team have put in.”

Then she stood and walked away. Fang Wei spent the night practicing alone, continuing until her voice was hoarse. Her nerves were stretched so thin that sleep refused to come. Yin Shanshan had no idea any of it.

Two days later Su Wanning’s market activity ended, and a hastily arranged street concert followed it straightaway as a broadcast segment.

All the guests from the production crew came to show their support that day. But the moment she arrived at the venue, Su Wanning frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Yu Xin asked.

Su Wanning shook her head. “It just feels too small. Look over there—there isn’t even a human-shaped standee, and they hung a banner for the whole stage. That’s just too cheap.”

Yu Xin shrugged. “They held this in a rush. The show team didn’t invest much in broadcasting either; most of the budget went to us. Given that, this is already pretty good.”

A few people soon took their seats in the reserved front rows. Not long after, the host took the stage, and to everyone’s surprise, it was a guest turn by Yin Shanshan.

“Welcome everyone to Fang Wei’s solo concert.”

Before she had finished a few opening lines, Yin Shanshan was already reading sponsor advertisements from cue cards.

The concert was held at the foot of the hill near the RV compound, on farmland borrowed from local villagers, so it was far from grand. Most of those there were simply nearby residents.

Hardly any of Fang Wei’s fans had come, and even the glow sticks the show team had distributed were not raised by many hands. Most of the crowd wore plain village clothes and sat in clusters; when the long promotional script went on, they grew restless. Gradually they started chatting with each other, some even cracking sunflower seeds right there without a care, making the scene feel less like a concert and more like a village movie-night gathering.

Backstage, Fang Wei, meanwhile, was still deep in her nerves, completely unaware of what awaited her out there.

Her son, Little Tian, came to her side. “Don’t be afraid, Mom. Your singing is the sweetest.”

Fang Wei turned and held his small hand. “My palms are sweaty, son. Those uncles and aunties have been waiting so long… I don’t know if they’ll be disappointed today.”

“They won’t be. I’m cheering for you, Mom!”

Little Tian was a warm little boy. He nestled against his mother and planted a big kiss on her cheek. Only then did Fang Wei’s heart begin to steady.

Even then, she was still warming up her voice, too tense to notice the barrage of live comments at all.

Fang Wei’s live stream room had already filled with many fans, and now they were flooding the screen with criticism.

“What does this mean? After so much hype, is this just an outdoor concert in the middle of a field?”
“No wonder the support club can’t even find a place to rally; even we didn’t get tickets!”
“Have you ever seen a concert with a red banner like that? This is ridiculously tacky!”
“Does the production team even take Fang Wei seriously?”
“Why did Fang Wei agree to hold an event like this? This is such a letdown.”

The comments streamed past without pause, a sea of disappointed voices. Many even announced they were unfollowing.

Fang Wei did not know any of this. Even when Yin Shanshan, who had hosted at the front, stepped down, she only bent low and whispered, “Good luck.”

With the microphone in her hand, Fang Wei stepped onto the stage. The simple lights snapped to her, and when she glanced into the audience—while wearing a borrowed gown—she froze.

Behind the row of production guests up front, villagers had brought small stools and clustered in loose groups, talking among themselves. Most of them didn’t even give her a real look; they glanced once and turned away to continue their own conversations.

In that moment, standing under those lights, Fang Wei did not feel like a beloved songbird revered by crowds. She felt like a minor roadside performer at the local market.

As she stood rigid on stage, Yin Shanshan in the wings finally panicked and kept urging the sound engineer: “Play the track, please!”

The familiar backing music started, but Fang Wei, despite having practiced it thousands of times until it was pure muscle memory, could not catch the first line. The moment she opened her mouth, she sang off key.

An awkward hush spread instantly, and the anger from the live audience surged to a peak.