Chapter 114: The Production Team Under Attack

“What is she even singing? Is this really Fang Wei’s standard?”
“Get off the stage already, this is just boring!”

The villagers in the audience showed little interest in the song. Most of them didn’t even know who Fang Wei was; they’d come simply for the excitement. For them, sitting here chatting with friends and snacking was far more entertaining than listening to this performance.

Onstage, tears began to well in Fang Wei’s eyes.

Yu Xin shook her head and sighed softly. “This event is such a mess. What were they even thinking?”

Su Wan’ning, seeing this, felt a pang of sympathy. She glanced at her daughter Nian Nian, who was softly singing along, and suddenly an idea took shape in her mind.

She quickly waved to the director for a microphone, then bent down and whispered a few words into her daughter’s ear before handing her the mic.

Nian Nian, wide-eyed, held the microphone nervously as she looked up at Su Wan’ning.

“It’s alright, you can do it!”

With her mother’s encouragement, Nian Nian cleared her throat and began singing into the microphone. Her childish, clear voice was right on pitch, harmonizing with Fang Wei’s melody. The impromptu duet soon drew the attention of many in the crowd.

Fang Wei, stunned at first, felt tears slipping down her cheeks. The song poured out of her with even greater emotion.

“Is Nian Nian really saving the show right now? What a sweet child.”
“Hearing it like this, it’s actually not bad. It’s just such a letdown in person!”

As the song ended, Fang Wei said nothing. Clutching the microphone, she fled the stage, bumping headlong into Yin Shanshan, who was waiting in the wings to go on.

Frowning, Yin Shanshan regarded Fang Wei with clear irritation. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you say a few words to your fans?”

Fang Wei shook her head, eyes brimming with tears.

“There aren’t any of my fans out there! All I saw were a bunch of aunties gossiping over sunflower seeds!”

She was obviously upset, but Yin Shanshan, ever pragmatic, showed no sign of remorse.

“So what? Don’t you have fans watching the livestream? Don’t you owe them anything? Is this how a professional artist behaves?”

Yin Shanshan was used to scolding her in this way, without considering how fragile Fang Wei might feel. Hearing those words, Fang Wei’s tears flowed even harder, and she turned and ran off without another word.

Yin Shanshan grabbed her walkie-talkie, ordered the background music to start, and hurried after her.

Her face was clouded with displeasure, and she didn’t care who heard her as she snapped, “What was that just now? Is Su Wan’ning trying to steal the spotlight by having her daughter help you finish the song? Why are you so bad at handling things on the fly!”

Fang Wei, slumped over a table and silently weeping, looked up in disbelief.

“If Nian Nian hadn’t helped me sing, I wouldn’t have finished that song at all. You did nothing to help, and now you’re blaming me!”

Yin Shanshan took a slow breath, forcing down her anger, and softened her tone. “Now’s not the time for this. There are still so many people outside, and lots in the livestream are here just for you. Are you going to just abandon them?”

Fang Wei wavered at her words, and Yin Shanshan pressed on, “Don’t say anything more. There’s no time. Whatever happens, you need to see this concert through. Embarrassment is nothing compared to giving up, understand?”

Meanwhile, down in the audience, Su Wan’ning noticed Fang Wei hadn’t returned to the stage and grew worried. “Is Fang Wei alright? She looked like she was about to cry. Maybe we should check on her backstage?”

She started to get up, but Yu Xin pulled her back into her seat, shaking her head. “You mustn’t go. Yin Shanshan doesn’t like you, and if you show up now, they’ll think you’re trying to show off.”

Su Wan’ning realized she was right and gave up on the idea.

She turned at the stir behind her and saw that a fifth of the audience, bored, had picked up their little stools and left the concert.

“Quite a few people are leaving. Will the concert even finish?”

Yu Xin shook her head. “I doubt it.”

But just as she finished speaking, the stage lights shifted, plunging the venue into darkness. The sharp sound of high heels echoed, and soon a spotlight illuminated the center of the stage.

Fang Wei stood there, microphone in hand, her bowed head hiding her expression. The gentle strains of music began—it was her signature song from years ago, one even Su Wan’ning recognized. At least half the audience was clearly familiar with it too.

Hearing the song, many who had been about to leave returned to their seats.

Backstage, Yin Shanshan finally relaxed as she saw the crowd settle.

At that moment, her assistant hurried over, anxiety clear in her voice. “We’ve moved the grand finale song up—what are we going to do when it’s time for the finale?”

“We’ll just sing this one again if we have to,” Yin Shanshan replied, frowning. “Call it an encore.”

Her assistant was momentarily speechless but chose to say nothing, swallowing her concerns.

“My youth has returned.”
“I never imagined I’d hear Fang Wei sing this again—especially not in someone else’s fields.”
“Say no more, I’m about to cry.”

It wasn’t just the livestream audience; even Fang Wei, standing onstage, could barely begin the song before tears streamed down her cheeks.

The director’s team quickly signaled the cameraman for a close-up. Soon, tears filled not only the studio but the homes of viewers watching online.

Many in the audience were moved as well, joining their voices with Fang Wei’s in a heartfelt chorus.

Backstage, Wang Zan sat frowning, eyes glued to the tablet in front of him.

“Director, what should we do now? Fang Wei’s fans are swarming the show’s official account, and it’s all complaints. What does any of this have to do with us?” Chen Rui’s voice was indignant.

Fang Wei’s fans were lambasting the production team, blaming them for the concert’s mismanagement and accusing them of disregarding Fang Wei. They had even started a hashtag demanding an apology for Fang Wei, and its popularity was still rising.

“How should I know? Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on their events?”

Wang Zan, frustrated, vented his anger at Chen Rui, the assistant director.

“It’s not fair! This event was organized by Yin Shanshan, and she’s always had the final say. Her manager was watching the whole time—what was I supposed to do?”

Wang Zan sighed, glancing toward Yin Shanshan at the side of the stage, and murmured, “Perhaps we were wrong from the very start.”

“What do you mean?”

Wang Zan shook his head. “Sometimes, fame and fortune are a double-edged sword. They appear to help us, but in truth, they bring far more harm than good.”