High-Altitude Worker, Unfortunately a Cannon Fodder Female Supporting Role - Chapter 29

“Promise me you’ll go out there and investigate. I don’t care how, Zhao Ke, find a way to investigate! There must be evidence—there has to be evidence proving Qiao Shuxue planned this!”

“I’m not crazy! I’m not crazy!”

Zhao Ke’s mind was a chaotic mess. The overwhelming flood of information made it impossible to discern the truth in Qiao Qinglu’s words at that moment.

Even if Qiao Shuxue had instigated it, Qiao Qinglu was the one who ultimately acted. She had admitted it.

Zhao Ke mentally screamed this fact, clinging to her rationality amidst the storm.

“Alright, I’ll investigate.”

Zhao Ke gripped Qiao Qinglu’s trembling wrist, her dark eyes swirling with turbulent shadows.

Hearing Zhao Ke’s firm reply, Qiao Qinglu suddenly shuddered and froze completely.

Zhao Ke tugged the hem of her shirt free from Qiao Qinglu’s grasp.

She reiterated, “I’ll investigate. Just wait here.”

“Mm, go ahead.”

Qiao Qinglu looked up, her eyes filled with a sense of relief.

Without hesitation, Zhao Ke turned and walked toward the door.

The clinking of iron chains echoed behind her.

As mealtime approached, a nurse walked by carrying a tray with a small piece of rye bread and a large bag of nutritional fluid.

The next moment, a deafening crash reverberated from behind Zhao Ke.

Her hand froze on the door handle.

Through the small window in the ward door, she glanced up and saw the nurse’s terrified expression outside.

Zhao Ke whirled around to see Qiao Qinglu’s body twisted, face down on the floor.

The chains around her neck had tightened from two loops to three, the ends stretched taut against her curled ankles.

Qiao Qinglu’s entire body was rigid, except for her face, which wore a serene expression Zhao Ke had never seen before.

Zhao Ke’s pupils constricted, frozen in place as her mind reeled.

She tried to speak, but couldn’t tell if she had opened her mouth or made a sound.

The nurse burst through the door, ignoring the spilled meal tray, and rushed to the bedside to press the call button.

After a chaotic scramble to resuscitate her, the senior doctor declared that Qiao Qinglu’s third and fourth vertebrae had been severed the moment she collapsed. Her respiratory function had ceased entirely, and she had suffocated within seconds.

The rain outside intensified.

This was Gu Jason’s private hospital, so reporting the incident to the police was out of the question.

The hospital director arrived, forcing himself to remain calm as he dialed Gu Jason’s number.

The signal, distorted by the downpour, crackled through the line. After several seconds of silence, a disbelieving voice finally asked, “Repeat that?”

Zhao Ke remained seated on the bench outside the ward, lost in her own thoughts. Perhaps minutes passed, perhaps hours.

Eventually, the hospital director approached her, his expression both concerned and resolute. “You can leave now,” he said, holding his phone.

Qiao Shuxue was filming out of town, and Zhao Ke belatedly learned of this through Weibo.

Perhaps there will be a simple funeral, or perhaps just a handful of dust.

Zhao Ke gleaned this answer from fragments of the director’s words as he comforted his subordinates.

Zhao Ke stood up and walked toward the door.

Her body no longer felt like her own, but rather a stiff, mechanical shell, its joints creaking with each repetitive movement.

In the original novel, Qiao Qinglu did not meet this end.

In the original novel, Qiao Qinglu lived a long life, alternating between madness and weeping.

Which ending was better, Zhao Ke couldn’t say.

Qiao Qinglu was dead.

Three days later, Qiao Shuxue announced the news on Weibo.

She posted the Forensic Pathologist’s autopsy report, providing conclusive evidence that Qiao Qinglu had died by suicide.

The internet erupted into chaos.

But still, wasn’t she suspected of mental illness before? How could she suddenly die?

Waaah, Snow Treasure has been through so much!

Dying under hospital supervision? Doesn’t the hospital bear any responsibility?

Can’t you see the word “suicide”?

Qiao Shuxue wrote that she would scatter Qiao Qinglu’s ashes into the sea, allowing her to become a free-flying bird.

Snow Treasure, you’ve finally let go, right? Someone like her doesn’t deserve to occupy even a fraction of your memory.

Snow Treasure is still too kind.

Qiao Qinglu must have felt guilty towards Snow Treasure, leading her to commit suicide out of remorse.

Zhao Ke received the news during a break in her acting class.

The acting teacher witnessed it firsthand: one moment Zhao Ke was laughing and chatting with her, and the next, after glancing at her phone, her entire demeanor suddenly turned dark and somber.

The teacher clapped excitedly. “That’s the feeling! That’s the expression! Hold it!”

Zhao Ke felt a heavy weight in her heart.

She admitted to feeling a pang of sorrow, akin to the fox mourning the rabbit’s death. In the original novel, Qiao Qinglu had loathed water.

Knowing this, Qiao Shuxue had repeatedly humiliated Qiao Qinglu in various variety shows by showcasing her swimming, fishing, and other water-related skills.

Now, even in death, Qiao Qinglu was being overshadowed by Qiao Shuxue once more.

“Everyone! Aren’t you surprised to be here?”

Director Qu, who hadn’t been seen in a while, reappeared before the guests, his energy brimming.

Qi Xinshu glanced around, his lips twitching. “This is just the Orange TV building. What’s surprising about it?”

Seriously? Who hasn’t filmed a variety show at Orange TV? Returning here feels as familiar as coming home.

But Director Qu’s narrowed eyes and the mischievous glint in them sent shivers down the guests’ spines.

“Heh heh… Has anyone been following the other variety shows on our network lately?”

Four Frames of Life was also produced by Orange TV, a major player in variety shows. From singing competitions to slice-of-life programs, they had it all. The cast members were puzzled about what Director Qu was referring to.

“Director, give us a hint,” Huang Sumu said, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

“A hint, huh?” Director Qu’s eyes darted around. “Zhao Ke, you should know this. It’s a variety show featuring artists from your company that’s been airing recently.”

Zhao Ke: ……

Star Yue Media was a massive entertainment conglomerate with countless artists working tirelessly under its banner. Zhao Ke immediately thought of several names of artists currently appearing on Orange TV shows.

But the one she was most familiar with was Idol Creation Project, for which she had personally filmed a support video.

“Director, is it the show I filmed the support video for?” Zhao Ke asked, guessing correctly.

Director Qu’s eyes lit up. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Zhao Ke, wearing an expression of “a promising student.”

Heh, Idol Creation Project‘s hype really flopped. Now they’re trying to ride on Four Walks of Life‘s popularity.

I don’t want to watch amateurs sing and dance, okay?

They just finished recording the first stage performances! Why are they already doing guest collaborations?

Lords, my Xiaozhou can’t sing or dance!

“That’s right! We’re collaborating with Idol Creation Project,” Director Qu announced, observing the cast members’ reactions as he spoke.

Some were overjoyed, while others were filled with anxiety.

Qi Xinshu, a former idol, looked eager to prove himself. Guan Muya and Yin Wenyuan, seasoned artists with ample stage experience, nodded confidently.

The remaining three wore expressions of utter misery. Their unfamiliarity, awkwardness, and complete lack of self-assurance were painfully evident on Zhao Ke’s face and those of her two companions.

Xiao Shu Bao’s about to show us what he’s got! Can’t wait!

Judging by Director Qu’s expression, something’s definitely up.

I doubt it’ll be that straightforward. Remember how he turned farming into a wilderness survival challenge last time?

“Does anyone remember the theme of our show?” Director Qu raised his voice, trying to snap everyone out of their emotional turmoil.

“It’s business, Director,” Qi Xinshu replied earnestly. “After all, when artists perform, aren’t they ultimately selling themselves to the audience?”

“Heh, you think becoming an artist is that easy?” Director Qu sneered at the group.

Here it comes…

What is it this time?

Director Qu turned and retrieved a handful of staff badges from a storage box behind him, holding them up for the camera.

“You will be the managers for the contestants, responsible for all their off-stage operations and marketing. I expect you not only to showcase the contestants’ unique charms and help them debut, but also to demonstrate the challenges and hard work behind the scenes as managers.”

The crowd: …Pupils dilated in shock!

Most artists and their managers exist in a love-hate dynamic. While artists chafe under their managers’ restrictions, they also find themselves overwhelmed by the endless stream of trivial tasks the managers handle.

The crowd held their breath, suspended between anticipation and reluctance.

To be honest, I’m not really keen on this.

Ah, so this is how we’re playing it now?

Alright, alright, let’s see which contestants and companies are trying to pull strings behind the scenes.

I’m so hyped!

Wait, does this mean the selected trainees are guaranteed a debut spot?

Not necessarily. Their reputation could still crumble.

“Director, isn’t this a bit much? Won’t it interfere with the contestants’ performances?” Qi Xinshu asked, voicing the group’s concerns.

“Would the contestants even agree to this? Our intervention could disrupt their companies’ original plans,” Yu Huizhou added, his face etched with worry. Social communication had never been his strong suit.

Director Qu waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve already sorted all that out. What do you think I’ve been doing during all those days off?”

Zhao Ke thought of the poor trainees at her company. On a whim, she asked, “Director Qu, can we choose our own partners?”

“Of course…” Director Qu’s eyes darted around.

“No.”

“Ah—” The crowd let out a collective sigh of disappointment.

They had been hoping to help their company’s trainees.

“Hey, don’t get your hopes up,” Director Qu said, seeing through their intentions. “You think I’d let you pick your own partners? It’s simple: the top six ranked contestants in real-time will be randomly paired with you.”

Director Qu had anticipated this. He had already contacted the managers of the top twenty contestants to prevent any dark horse surprises.

LOL, imagine getting paired with your rival company. That would be hilarious.

What is this? Trainees facing a battlefield before their debut?

Ugh, why do I have this weird feeling that some terrifying new ship is about to emerge?

Zhao Ke had already given up hope, but during the post-interview lottery, she actually drew Ming Yue, the leader of her own girl group.

Star Yue Media had invested heavily in pre-show promotion, meticulously packaging their trainees. At least in the initial performances, none of them were completely cut from the broadcast, giving each a chance to showcase themselves.

Unfortunately, the competition was fierce. Only two of the nine debut spots went to Star Yue trainees, and among the top six, only Ming Yue remained. The other three hovered in the double-digit rankings, starting with 1, 2, and 3 respectively.

“Sister Coco!”

Ming Yue pushed open the door to the post-interview room and was genuinely surprised to see Zhao Ke.

Although she knew the top six contestants would have a major exposure opportunity by collaborating with artists from the neighboring agency, Ming Yue hadn’t expected to be paired with Zhao Ke, whose popularity was off the charts.

Seeing Zhao Ke felt like seeing the trending topics already waving at her.

“Ming Yue, what a coincidence!” Zhao Ke exclaimed, equally pleased. After all, she was family, and she’d help her out however she could.

Wow, this is too much of a coincidence!

Who’s this sister? She looks pretty good!

Manifesting Ming Yue’s career luck! I’m manifesting it hard!

Zhao Ke glanced casually at the live comments: …This kind of manifesting is a bad idea.