Chapter 2: Entering the Script

Wendy was now a world-renowned pop star, her global concerts always sold out. The media dubbed her "Little Taylor Swift," praising her as the most accomplished young singer worldwide. Since her rise to fame, controversies constantly surrounded her. With fame comes trouble, and today, her assistant eagerly brought a script, saying that Hollywood director Peter specifically wanted her for the role. "Lisa, return this script. Don’t bring me such lousy movies in the future!" Wendy snapped. Lisa cautiously took the script back, musing, "Wendy, I read the script from start to finish. The plot changes significantly later on. I think it might be worth considering." "Stop! I don’t care who the director is. With such a terrible opening, I don’t even want to read the rest. Return it immediately!" "Alright, I’ll handle it right away." "Wait, when those people come over, accompany me." "Got it!" The two of them stepped into the elevator, Wendy taking the opportunity to review the details of her new album. Suddenly, the elevator shook violently and came to a halt between the 28th and 29th floors. "Wendy, are you alright?" Wendy looked at her assistant, who had been with her for six years. Despite being terrified herself, the assistant’s first concern was Wendy’s well-being, which touched Wendy deeply. "I’m fine. Let’s call for help immediately." Rescue workers arrived soon after, prying open the elevator doors. Wendy insisted that her terrified assistant be rescued first. As soon as the assistant was out, the elevator made a loud noise and plummeted downward. "Wendy!" Her assistant’s anguished scream echoed in the elevator shaft. ... "Sister! Sister, why are you sleeping at a time like this? Wake up, please!" The crisp voice jolted Wendy awake. The intense light stung her eyes as she took in her surroundings. The luxurious building was as splendid as her own home, with servants bustling about, preparing for some event that evening. Where am I? She vividly remembered the elevator malfunctioning and hitting her head during the rapid descent. A dizzy spell, and now she was here! She looked at the harmless face before her and asked, "Who are you? Where is this place?" "Sister, this is our home. I’m your cousin Caro. Aunt is waiting for you upstairs. You need to bring her the ring." A ring? Caro? Cousin? Wasn’t this the plot of the script she read earlier, *My Six Brothers Are My Backers*? She glanced around but saw no cameras, and it didn’t feel like a film set. Could she have transmigrated into that despised script? She quickly found a reflective surface nearby to see her face. Blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles—a young girl’s face, but much more naive-looking. Caro sneaked up behind her, urging her again to fetch the ring for their aunt. She knew this scene well. Caro had already swapped the real ring for a fake one. When she handed the fake diamond ring to her mother in front of all the nobility, her mother would be humiliated and grow to despise her even more. This incident would make everyone believe she was a useless, pretty face, while Caro, the daughter of their uncle, would shine even brighter. Trying to usurp my place, huh? Think you can make me, the legitimate daughter, look worse than you, the niece? Do you think I’m the same pushover as the original Wendy? If I were Wendy in the script, I’d never be so spineless. My dear sister, you like acting, don’t you? Well, let’s see how my performance measures up. Wendy’s lips curled into a pitiful smile. "Sorry, sister, for worrying you. I’ll fetch the ring for Mother right away. No need to accompany me; you can wait in the front hall." Satisfied with Wendy’s compliant demeanor, Caro sauntered off to the front hall, eager to display herself to the arriving nobles. Wendy recalled from the script that the early-arriving Viscountess would accidentally trip on the stairs, resulting in a lifelong injury that ultimately led to the Mitchell family’s bankruptcy. The Viscountess was a national treasure, often serving as an ambassador for Country X. Her life was crucial. Instead of going to her mother’s room, Wendy waited for the Viscountess. She soon saw a dignified, elegantly dressed woman appear at the top of the stairs. "Excuse me, are you the Viscountess?" Just as the Viscountess was about to descend, Wendy called out to her. "Do you like Van Gogh’s paintings? My mother asked me to show you an original piece. Please, this way." Wendy carefully guided the Viscountess down the stairs, preventing the impending disaster, and led her to a hidden room where Van Gogh’s painting was displayed. The Viscountess’s eyes lit up at the sight. "Ma’am, I always feel something different every time I see Van Gogh’s work." The Viscountess, a lover of art, was intrigued. "Tell me more." "Van Gogh was always lonely, never understood by his contemporaries, yet he created a world of his own. His paintings, like his life, are filled with pain and passion, reflecting a tumultuous journey." The Viscountess looked at Wendy with admiration. "I didn’t expect such deep understanding from someone so young. It seems Mr. Mitchell has done an excellent job raising his daughter, contrary to what rumors suggest." Wendy’s eyes sparkled. "Thank you for the compliment, ma’am. I hope to visit you in the future." The Viscountess smiled and nodded. "Ma’am, my mother asked me to fetch a ring from the next room. Could you accompany me?" The Viscountess, already impressed by Wendy, agreed readily. Retrieving the ring, Wendy escorted the Viscountess to the main hall. "Sister!"