Since her debut, Xu Wanci's online reputation has never been particularly favorable.
Despite her striking beauty and exceptional acting skills, she has been relentlessly vilified.
Whether it's her family background, manners, appearance, or character—everything has become a reason for her to be attacked.
Of course, what truly united all her haters and served as their irrefutable "evidence" was Xu Wanci's behavior in a certain variety show.
On the show, she came across as arrogant and insincere, indifferent toward her fellow celebrities, and even deliberately brought up the deceased grandfather of a popular young actress, reducing her to tears on camera—behavior that rightfully earned widespread disdain.
After that, Xu Wanci's already shaky public image became even more precarious.
Fans of the popular actress began targeting her family background and looks with renewed venom.
Hate outlasts love.
Even years later, when the actress in question had long faded from the spotlight, these haters still clung to their grudge.
In a thread titled "Who in the entertainment industry has the best plastic surgery skills?" Xu Wanci's name dominated the discussion.
Many comments disguised praise as subtle digs, ostensibly complimenting her appearance while subtly reinforcing the narrative that her face was the work of a surgeon.
Yan Le scrolled through these responses, her eyes burning with anger as she reported them one by one.
She looked up at Xu Wanci, who sat bathed in sunlight, her beauty ethereal and serene, and said indignantly:
"Wanci-jie, are their eyes covered in paper?"
"How dare they say you’ve had plastic surgery!"
"If surgery could produce a face like yours, I’d have saved up for a doctor ages ago."
A soft chuckle came from the sofa.
In the floor-length mirror, the reflection was painfully thin.
Her face was pale and gaunt, her cheeks slightly hollowed, yet none of it could diminish her radiance.
Under the sunlight, she smiled faintly, her eyes crinkling with amusement—so breathtakingly beautiful it made one hold their breath.
She glanced at Yan Le, who was still fuming at her phone, and turned a page of the script in her hands, teasing lightly:
"Indeed. The pain of surgery must be something those people think I couldn’t possibly endure."
Then, her tone softened with sincerity:
"Yan Le, you’re already beautiful."
"Don’t waste your money on surgery. Spend it on treating yourself instead."
This kind of vibrant, striving beauty was something she herself had lost long ago.
At Xu Wanci's words, Yan Le’s face flushed red.
She coughed awkwardly, set her phone aside, and turned back to organizing the clothes in her hands.
Once, she too had harbored doubts about Xu Wanci because of online rumors.
But a week ago, she became her assistant.
Only then did she realize how baseless all those accusations were.
The real Xu Wanci was kind, generous, intelligent—nothing like the person portrayed online.
Hesitantly, Yan Le looked up and asked:
"Wanci-jie, that variety show... was it edited by the director to exploit your reputation for publicity?"
Xu Wanci rarely appeared in variety shows, so she immediately knew which one Yan Le meant.
Her fingers traced the edge of the script’s cover.
Back then, she simply hadn’t known how to adapt.
Accustomed to solitude, she had no idea how to interact with others or navigate the traps laid by those pretending to be friendly.
Later, she learned to wear a mask at all times—both on and off camera.
Xu Wanci flipped another page and replied dismissively:
"It was just a show. It’s in the past."
Seeing how easily she brushed it off, Yan Le only grew more indignant on her behalf. Firmly, she declared:
"Wanci-jie, one day these people will see how amazing you are. And when they come crying for forgiveness, you mustn’t give in!"
Xu Wanci’s eyes curved with faint amusement as she humored her:
"Alright."
She glanced at the sunset outside and said gently:
"It’s getting late. These things can wait until tomorrow."
"Go home now."
As Yan Le reluctantly left, the smile on Xu Wanci’s lips faded.
The ever-present pain made her frown slightly.
She looked down at her hands—bathed in sunlight, the script had taken on the soft hues of dusk, but her skin remained deathly pale.
Beneath the script, she pulled out her will. She had added a little more to Yan Le’s inheritance.
Kindness was rare in her life, and she treasured every bit of it.
After sending the updated will to her lawyer, she leaned back on the sofa, exhausted.
It seemed luck had never been on her side.
Abandoned by her parents as a child, she grew up dependent on others.
Forced by poverty to drop out of school as a teenager.
Later, with no other options, she signed with her current agency—only to be discarded for refusing to obey their every demand.
Not just discarded: once she gained some fame, the company fabricated countless scandals to control her.
Yet she had no regrets. Every step she took had been the best she could manage at the time.
Even with the company exploiting her, she had quietly gathered evidence against them.
She never stopped the baseless rumors online because each one would later become a blade plunged into the company’s back.
After the storm, she would earn the world’s remorse.
Her future would be smooth sailing.
She just hadn’t expected illness to arrive before her plans.
Stage four stomach cancer.
A childhood of hunger, years of irregular meals for her acting career—her body had long been pushed to its limits.
She’d assumed youth would protect her. She never paid it any mind.
Closing her eyes, Xu Wanci thought quietly:
She wanted to live.
She had fought so hard just to take control of her life, to live it well.
But when the end came, she had no choice but to accept it.
She set aside her schemes and accepted a role—a terminally ill woman’s final ten days.
A performance worthy of awards, one she could perfect.
She knew the evidence clearing her name, this final role, and the news of her death would etch her into public memory.
If death was inevitable,
then let more people remember her.
Let them remember her unforgettably.
Even decades later, let her name still be spoken.
Perhaps that, too, was a form of living on.
She only regretted one thing.
That she wouldn’t get to see more of this world’s beauty.
Xu Wanci opened her eyes. On the bookshelf nearby stood rows of scripts and novels.
These were the footprints of her journey.
Her gaze finally settled on the novel at the very edge of the shelf.
The title read Fate Defied: A Cultivator's Journey.
And the role she was destined to play was that of the vicious supporting character—a woman who shared both her name and her fate.
Back then, she had memorized the entire novel in preparation, and even now, she remembered every twist and turn of the plot.
Xu Wanci raised her fingertips, but before she could move, a pain as sharp as a blade’s edge carved through her body.
She bit her lip, waiting for the agony to pass.
She had learned to endure long ago.
Only this time, the pain lasted far longer than she had anticipated.
A day later, the film The Last Ten Days began its promotional campaign.
Just as online trolls were condemning Xu Wanci for exploiting the suffering of terminally ill patients, the world saw her obituary instead.
In the days that followed, fragments of her past surfaced—her parents’ abandonment, the loneliness of her youth, the exploitation and manipulation by her agency, and that infamous variety show.
It was nothing more than the story of a girl with no parents, no friends, and no place in this world.
Yet it became the reason the entire internet turned against her.
At last, after a long darkness, the light finally broke through.
Xu Wanci’s social media was flooded with apologies.
Her agency, too, was investigated for tax evasion and coercing its artists.
But the one who should have witnessed it all was no longer here to see it.
And Yan Le, using the inheritance she had received, stubbornly pursued legal action against every single one of Xu Wanci’s online tormentors.
They didn’t deserve forgiveness.
Because she had been the best of them all—the best Xu Wanci.
Xu Wanci had expected to open her eyes to the sterile white glow of hospital lights.
Instead, all she saw was a solemn expanse of gray and black.
The air around her was bitterly cold, and her body felt as though it bore the weight of a thousand pounds.
Then, a voice thick with disgust spoke beside her:
"Xu Wanci, a disciple of the Taiqing Sect, harbors a wicked heart. She manipulated the rampage of spirit beasts to harm Qiu Ning… If the young master of the Jiang Family does not punish her severely, justice will not be served."
"Let the two elders decide her fate."
And so, the gears of destiny began to turn.
