High-Altitude Worker, Unfortunately a Cannon Fodder Female Supporting Role - Chapter 33

The police were at their wits’ end. “Alright, you mentioned nude photos earlier. Where’s the evidence? Show us the proof!”

Before the words had even left his mouth, Sha Kaiyun erupted into a frenzy. “No evidence! No evidence! Officer, I’m innocent! They’re framing me!”

Despite Sha Kaiyun’s tantrum, he couldn’t escape criminal detention.

Although the police didn’t find any explicit photos on his phone, they discovered numerous WeChat messages where Sha Kaiyun had openly and subtly threatened Liang Xiaoxiao. These messages were deemed corroborating evidence of his crimes.

Liang Xiaoxiao is so pitiful, 呜呜呜.

My heart aches for her. She never gave up despite being threatened so many times.

Can she still return to the show? I want to vote for her.

Star Yue Media acted faster than Zhao Ke had anticipated. At 5:00 AM, they released a statement on Weibo:

Star Yue Media:  “To the public and media friends:

Our company has immediately terminated all cooperation with former manager Sha Kaiyun due to his alleged violation of an artist’s privacy rights and misconduct. We are actively cooperating with law enforcement in their investigation. We extend our deepest apologies to the affected artist and the public.”

How utterly hypocritical, Zhao Ke thought, staring at the Weibo post, her teeth itching with irritation.

At 7:00 AM—no, wait, it was 7:00 AM the next morning—Zhao Ke drove back to the Production Team with her two assistant managers and Liang Xiaoxiao.

The first elimination round proceeded smoothly.

Zhao Ke set up the live stream and then hid behind the camera to catch up on sleep.

After a sleepless night, listening to the Host announce the contestants’ names one by one was utterly hypnotic.

The live stream room was buzzing with activity.

God knows, when I woke up and saw the trending topics, I was instantly wide awake.

Ahhh! This is infuriating! The police statement didn’t give details, but I bet the remaining Star Yue trainees are still under that scumbag manager’s thumb.

The whole thing is terrifying when you think about it.

Zhao Kexin has nerves of steel! How can she sleep through this? Hahaha!

Am I imagining things, or is Keke acting too calm? She’s handled everything perfectly and even comforted Liang Xiaoxiao, but something feels off.

I get you. Even the most composed person would be shaken by something like this, but Zhao Ke has been completely unfazed from start to finish.

When Liu Tiande woke up, his world had collapsed. His dream of Zhao Ke dominating the entertainment industry had shattered instantly.

He called Zhao Ke immediately. “What’s going on? How did you end up at the police station again?”

By his calculations, Zhao Ke had met Uncle Hat at least three times since being hospitalized.

Damn it! Zhao Ke wasn’t involved in organized crime. Why did she have to deal with the police every day?

Zhao Ke, still groggy from sleep, replied with a drowsy voice, “Just a coincidence, a coincidence.”

Liu Tiande remained worried. “Did Sha Kaiyun say anything to you?”

Zhao Ke lowered her gaze, thought for a moment, and suddenly asked, “Brother Tiande, how much do you know about the nude photos?”

Zhao Ke’s abrupt question silenced the other end of the line. She counted the breaths on the other end until Liu Tiande’s hesitant, deep voice finally came through, “I know a little.”

Back when Qiao Qinglu was thriving in the Qiao Family, Liu Tiande, as her manager, hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Resources were directly handed to Qiao Qinglu by the manager. Since Liu Tiande and Qiao Qinglu disliked each other, he turned a blind eye, only managing her daily schedule and rarely interfering with her resources.

It wasn’t until Qiao Qinglu was abandoned by the Qiao Family and her resources plummeted that Liu Tiande couldn’t stand it any longer and proactively inquired with the manager. By then, the manager and higher-ups had already decided to abandon Qiao Qinglu. Even though her star power still surpassed some of her contemporaries, the company refused to allocate resources to her.

Liu Tiande was furious at the time, arguing vehemently. The manager, thoroughly annoyed, finally snapped, “Our company’s artists are all puppets on strings, to be held firmly in hand. Qiao Qinglu? Hah, a rabid dog. Toss her aside when she’s no longer useful.”

The manager wasn’t afraid of Liu Tiande reporting him.

Just as Qiao Qinglu had once used Liu Tiande’s mortgage, car loan, wife, children, and family to coerce him into defecting to Star Yue Media, the manager now held Liu Tiande’s paycheck hostage, forcing his compliance.

Liu Tiande sighed.

Recently, Director He had approached him with a new script, specifically requesting Zhao Ke for the lead role. Liu Tiande, carried away by excitement, immediately told Zhao Ke. But Kong Jianshan, the manager, soon learned of it and snatched the opportunity away.

Liu Tiande’s voice was heavy. “Zhao Ke, you’re doing well enough as you are. Don’t be too impulsive.”

Zhao Ke lowered her gaze, seemingly already asleep. Hearing Liu Tiande’s voice, she stirred as if startled awake. “Okay, I understand.”

At 3 p.m., the second round of voting opened.

Liang Xiaoxiao surged ahead with an overwhelming lead, leaving the competition in the dust.

The remaining trainees from Star Yue Media followed closely behind.

There was no escaping it. The trending topic still dominated Weibo’s homepage, its stark, black-and-red characters impossible to ignore. Anyone who clicked through couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the trainees at Star Yue Media.

“I hope the sisters can pull themselves together. The rough road ahead will eventually be smoothed out.”

“That dog of a manager went too far! The company needs to take this seriously.”

“It’s not just the entertainment industry. We ordinary people should learn from this too. Malicious people could be hiding right beside us. We must learn to fight back and not just sit and wait for our fate.”

“If Zhao Ke hadn’t livestreamed this, Liang Xiaoxiao’s resistance would have been a risky gamble, hurting herself as much as her enemy. But facing such a cunning manager, she showed incredible courage.”

“That’s how it is for ordinary people. Only by making a big enough scene do we have a chance.”

Sun Xincheng had been furious that night, but overall, the incident had little direct impact on him.

However, the livestream’s exposure not only drew strange looks from everyone at Star Yue Media toward President Sun, but also turned the Sun Family into the talk of the town—and a laughingstock—for the foreseeable future.

Sun Xincheng was furious, venting his anger in his office. “Find out who was running that live stream!”

His assistant stiffly gathered the scattered documents from the floor and handed over the prepared file. “President Sun, do you remember the Zhao Family?”

“Which Zhao Family? The coal magnate?” Sun Xincheng asked, puffing out his cheeks as he snatched the file.

“Yes, Boss Zhao Sheng. His company recently went bankrupt and was acquired by the Gu Family. The live stream was run by his daughter, Zhao Ke.” The assistant adjusted his glasses.

“Ah—him,” Sun Xincheng sighed heavily.

He scratched his face irritably. Now that the Zhao Family was bankrupt, how could he even retaliate?

Trip up Zhao Ke? Tch, he wouldn’t stoop to targeting a junior.

Sun Xincheng scrolled through his phone contacts, searching for a while before finally dialing Zhao Sheng’s number. “Hello, Zhao Sheng? How are you doing these days?”

Now that Zhao Sheng was bankrupt, Sun Xincheng no longer needed to maintain any pretense of decency and asked the question bluntly.

The signal seemed weak on the other end, static crackling in Sun Xincheng’s ear before Zhao Sheng’s listless voice finally came through. “Hello? What’s up? I’m outside.”

Zhao Sheng’s voice sounded distant, and Sun Xincheng thought he could hear someone chattering in a foreign language in the background.

Sun Xincheng inwardly scoffed, These nouveau riche coal bosses will never learn class. “Heh, your daughter’s really something now, isn’t she? She can even—”

Zhao Sheng abruptly cut him off. “Ah, yes, yes, my precious daughter is indeed remarkable. Anything else? I’m hanging up now.”

Before Sun Xincheng could retort, the call ended abruptly.

Aaaargh! Sun Xincheng seethed with impotent rage.

What the hell is wrong with this family?

Zhao Ke slept soundly all morning, finally waking up feeling refreshed.

A rare red notification dot appeared on her WeChat contacts, and there were even multiple messages.

Three completely black profile pictures were neatly arranged, their nicknames a jumble of random characters.

No need to accept. Protect yourself.

Stay safe.

Be careful.

Zhao Ke:… Huh? Who are these people? What are they talking about?

Dismissing it as unimportant, Zhao Ke put her phone away.

The second public performance song selection was divided into three categories: singing, dancing, and rapping.

Ming Yue and Wang Nanhuan, who had been in the same group during the first public performance, remained true to their strengths and chose the dance category.

Liang Xiaoxiao, her confidence rekindled, was determined to express herself through rap. Hong Yuanyuan, with her exceptional vocal skills, naturally opted for a vocally challenging song, a decision no one questioned.

Only Su Xi faced a dilemma. As a film academy student, becoming a trainee had been a temporary measure; her ultimate goal remained acting.

With Sha Kaiyun gone and the company yet to assign a new manager, Su Xi, Zhao Ke, and the two assistant managers exchanged uncertain glances, none able to make a decision.

“Why not just choose a pure singing performance? We could secure a breakout look,” Fang Jingqiu suggested.

“But her voice would stand out among the actual singers, making her an easy target for ridicule,” Cheng Xiaotong countered, shaking her head.

Fang Jingqiu looked puzzled. “So what? Su Xi’s greatest asset is her looks. Remember how Qiao Shuxue debuted in the first season?”

Su Xi’s eyes flickered slightly. Qiao Shuxue was an unattainable ideal for all the trainees.

Starting as an idol, Su Xi had been mocked as a “pretty face,” but through unwavering dedication and exceptional acting skills, she had defied the odds and was on the verge of reaching the pinnacle of her career.

Just imagining it filled her with excitement.

But her enthusiasm was immediately doused with cold water.

Zhao Ke leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “Qiao Shuxue is an exception. Don’t try to emulate her.”

Her words brought Su Xi back to reality.

Yes, Qiao Shuxue is a once-in-a-lifetime talent, impossible to replicate.

Cough cough, why do I suddenly feel like shipping them? Chosen rivals, you’re the only ones in my eyes~~

Get out! Get out! What kind of demons and monsters are you?

Rivals? Zhao Ke doesn’t even deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as her!

Zhao Ke just needs to know that our Snow Treasure is beyond her reach.

You two upstairs, get out too! What are Qiao Shuxue fans doing in Zhao Ke’s live stream room?

I’ll stay if I want! I want to watch!

Everyone, get out!

Cheng Xiaotong rubbed her temples. “Maybe we should ask the manager? She started as an agent herself, right?”

Before she could finish, Su Xi’s water glass suddenly tipped over.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Su Xi mumbled, her head bowed, her expression completely hidden by her bangs.

“Can we ask him? The manager is so busy, he probably wouldn’t care about us trainees,” Fang Jingqiu fretted.

Cheng Xiaotong made a snap decision, rolling up her sleeves. “Forget it, let’s just ask. Worst case scenario, I’ll get a scolding.”

Su Xi’s refusal died in her throat.

Cheng Xiaotong typed out a lengthy message and sent it to Kong Jianshan: “Manager, I apologize for bothering you. I wanted to update you on trainee Su Xi’s recent progress: Su Xi ranked eighteenth in the first round…”

After sending the message, the group waited anxiously for a response.

But hours passed, and Kong Jianshan remained silent.

It wasn’t until after 11 PM that Kong Jianshan finally sent a voice message: “Is little Su still up? I’ve drafted a proposal for her and left it on my office desk. I meant to send it earlier, but I got caught up with evening engagements and forgot. Why don’t you go grab it now? Heh, it’s not too late, after all, tomorrow’s song selection is a big deal, right?”