I Don't Want to Be the Villainess Anymore - Chapter 44

The other person fell silent for a few seconds, staring at Qin Yuzhen, suddenly at a loss for words. They had never encountered someone who so blatantly defied conventional expectations.

“If you think this competition is riddled with black-box operations and backdoor dealings, then I suggest you withdraw,” Qin Yuzhen said. “Additionally, if you continue spreading baseless rumors, I will sue you. You’re an adult—you should take responsibility for your words.”

After speaking, Qin Yuzhen closed her eyes again. The other person wanted to say more, but seeing her like this, they couldn’t bring themselves to continue.

Recording began promptly at two o’clock.

This episode had invited three professors from academia—one each from the humanities, sciences, and arts. Of course, they each had their own specialties and couldn’t cover every field; even the most brilliant professors were only human. The show also featured three celebrity guests. Just the introductions and casual banter among these six people took up thirty minutes. Not to mention, every contestant had to introduce themselves—one minute per person added up to nearly an hour. It was an excruciatingly long process.

So long that Qin Yuzhen began to miss being in class.

The studio stage had two tiers, each holding twenty-five people arranged in a semicircle. Qin Yuzhen’s spot was roughly in the middle of the front row, holding contestant number twelve. Her introduction was also twelfth in line.

“Hello everyone, my name is Qin Yuzhen. I’m seventeen, just an ordinary high school senior.”

Compared to the others’ introductions, Qin Yuzhen’s was brief and unremarkable, especially when placed alongside students from world-renowned universities and winners of international awards.

Yet sometimes, being unremarkable made one stand out. Qin Yuzhen noticed the three professors studying her with a hint of curiosity.

Huo Yaoxu’s introduction, on the other hand, was packed with achievements. He had won numerous prestigious awards since childhood, which explained why he was so upset about scoring lower than Qin Yuzhen.

The pride of a prodigy was always more fragile. And though Huo Yaoxu kept calling her “elder sister” with apparent humility, in truth, he was incredibly arrogant.

“The rules for our first round are displayed on the screen in the hall. They’re simple: thirty multiple-choice questions, five seconds per question. Correct answers earn one point, wrong or unanswered questions earn zero,” the host announced.

“Without further ado, let’s move on to the first question.”

Qin Yuzhen straightened slightly in her seat, eyes fixed on the tablet in front of her.

After each question, there was a pause to review the contestants’ responses, and the host would prompt some to speak.

The first question was a simple general knowledge query: “Who are the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove?” All fifty contestants answered correctly—a perfect 100% accuracy rate.

The first three questions were easy points. By the fourth, they became increasingly obscure, covering a wide range of topics. The accuracy rate hovered around 60%, as most contestants had their own knowledge biases.

From the diameter of Saturn to the highest peak in China.

From the “Three Jewels” in the saying “No one visits the Three Jewels Hall without a reason” to the sculptor behind The Burghers of Calais.

…

Qin Yuzhen remained unfazed. She had experienced nearly every respectable profession in her lifetime and, forced to excel in each, had developed a broad knowledge base. By the end of the thirty questions, she ranked first with a perfect score—50 out of 50.

The second place went to another girl who got one question wrong, achieving a 97% accuracy rate with 49 points, while Huo Yaoxu missed five questions and ranked sixth.

“Wow, someone answered all the questions correctly,” the host remarked in awe. “I was answering along while listening just now and only got five right. All of you are truly amazing.”

“Qin Yuzhen, your self-introduction said you’re just an ordinary high school senior, but now it seems you’re anything but ordinary,” the host continued.

Everyone’s gaze turned to Qin Yuzhen, whose expression remained calm and composed, exuding effortless grace.

“Compared to everyone’s impressive backgrounds, I really am quite ordinary,” Qin Yuzhen replied.

“You’re being modest.”

Several contestants exchanged glances, their faces clearly showing a hint of dissatisfaction. Most of the contestants here had heard rumors that someone had gotten in based on looks, and many had already assumed it was Qin Yuzhen.

After all, though Huo Yaoxu was good-looking, his numerous accolades couldn’t possibly be fake.

Qin Yuzhen sat in her seat, rubbing her neck. She had been sitting there for nearly five hours and was starting to feel sore all over.

“Young lady, what are your usual hobbies? At seventeen and in your senior year, studies must be quite demanding, right?” Professor Li picked up the microphone and asked.

“I enjoy calligraphy and painting,” Qin Yuzhen replied. “Studies aren’t too bad—nothing’s particularly difficult. If I were stressed, I wouldn’t have come to participate in this show.”

“Right. When I arrived, I watched the audition videos. You said you were proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, skilled in all kinds of martial arts, and knowledgeable in both heaven and earth. Did I remember that correctly?”

“You remembered correctly,” Qin Yuzhen said with a smile. “Word for word.”

A murmur of surprise rippled through the audience.

Huo Yaoxu also glanced at Qin Yuzhen—she certainly wasn’t afraid to make bold claims.

“I’d love to see you paint, but that would take too long. Since you mentioned calligraphy, why not write something for us?” Professor Li suggested.

He wasn’t trying to challenge her—he was simply intrigued. In his nearly seventy years of life, he had never met someone so audacious.

“Sure,” Qin Yuzhen nodded.

The production team quickly prepared a brush and ink. Qin Yuzhen frowned slightly at the pre-made ink—she preferred grinding her own—but given the circumstances, she couldn’t be too picky.

“Professor, which script would you like to see—cursive, clerical, seal, regular, or running?” Qin Yuzhen asked.

Professor Li was taken aback, then thought for a moment. “Let’s go with cursive.”

Without hesitation, Qin Yuzhen began writing Xin Qiji’s Po Zhen Zi: For Chen Tongfu, a Heroic Poem Sent in Jest from memory. She opted for wild cursive script, not bothering to overthink it.

Professor Li stood by watching, and several contestants also gathered around.

“Impressive,” Professor Li remarked as soon as she wrote the title. Though not a professional calligrapher, he had a passion for the art and could recognize skill when he saw it. “How long have you been practicing this style?”

“Several years.”

Professor Li: “…”

He waited patiently for her to finish, then stood admiring the piece long after she had signed it.

“Young lady, could I have this piece?” Professor Li asked.

“You can have it… but will you take good care of it?” Qin Yuzhen hesitated.

The people nearby glanced at Qin Yuzhen, thinking she was being ungrateful. A trace of melancholy flickered through Qin Yuzhen’s eyes, dimming the spirited confidence she had shown earlier. To anyone watching, she seemed like someone with a deep, untold story.

“Of course, it must be kept safe,” Professor Li said, then added, “Young lady, if you ever need any help, you can come to me.”

The more Professor Li looked at the calligraphy, the more he liked it—so much so that even his impression of Qin Yuzhen improved. He had initially been reluctant to appear on this show. If not for the collaboration between his art exhibition and the program team, he wouldn’t have come at all. Yet, unexpectedly, he had met a young person who resonated with him.

“Thank you, Professor Li,” Qin Yuzhen replied with a well-behaved smile.

The director, having finished filming this segment, raised his hand and announced a half-hour break. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Qin Yuzhen yawned.

“Sis, you’re really amazing,” Huo Yaoxu remarked with admiration.

“Not really,” Qin Yuzhen replied before heading backstage to sip some water and take a breather.

The others gathered in small groups to chat, leaving Qin Yuzhen sitting alone, looking somewhat isolated.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” Qin Yuzhen responded, looking up at the girl standing before her. It was the girl who had placed second. She remembered that during the auditions, they had been in the same classroom, and this girl had been the second to hand in her paper.

If she recalled correctly, her name was Cheng Fei—a physics prodigy, twenty-three years old, already leading independent research projects at university and having published numerous SCI papers.

A true genius.

The girl wore thin gold-rimmed glasses, exuding an air of cool detachment that made her seem unapproachable. She was slender and pale, though her thinness differed from Cong Mian’s.

Qin Yuzhen thought the girl had something to say, but after approaching, she remained silent. Or perhaps Qin Yuzhen was just being presumptuous—maybe the girl simply wanted to sit down.

“You…”

Qin Yuzhen looked at her again.

“I overheard them talking about you,” Cheng Fei said.

“And?”

Cheng Fei seemed to be carefully choosing her words. “Some people, when they’re not as good as you, will look at you with malice, make assumptions about you…”

Qin Yuzhen roughly understood what she was trying to say.

“Don’t take it to heart,” Cheng Fei said. “Sorry, I’m not very good with words.”

“It’s fine,” Qin Yuzhen smiled. “I never pay attention to those beneath me, so why should I care what they say?”

Cheng Fei nodded in agreement. “You’re very impressive.”

“You’re impressive too,” Qin Yuzhen replied cheerfully.

“Thank you.” Cheng Fei fell silent, lowering her gaze to the cup in her hands.

The system sighed. “For her to come and warn you, she must have been treated the same way before.”

“Yeah,” Qin Yuzhen murmured. She studied Cheng Fei for a moment before asking, “Can we exchange contact info?”

“Sure.” Cheng Fei took out her phone.

Cheng Fei’s WeChat profile picture was a sticker of a panda sticking out its butt—adorable and completely at odds with her usual demeanor. Her username was simply a single character: “Ah.”

After adding each other as friends, the break ended.

The rest of the session was just wrapping things up and eliminating ten contestants. Of course, these ten wouldn’t leave the venue; they would be seated elsewhere to continue participating in the program.

Since Qin Yuzhen had placed first, the host called on her multiple times.

By the time the recording of this episode was completely finished, it was already past eight, nearing nine o’clock.

As Qin Yuzhen packed up her things and stepped out, she overheard a few people ahead of her whispering in hushed tones.

“I don’t get it. If she wants to debut, why not go to someone else’s show? Why does she have to come here?”

“The favoritism is way too obvious.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t crash and burn later.”

…

Qin Yuzhen lowered her head and sent her location to the family driver.

Qin Yuzhen: Uncle Liu, come pick me up in the most expensive car we have. Thanks.

Uncle Liu: Got it.

Some people took their time removing their makeup, so by the time Uncle Liu arrived, a group of them had just stepped out—including those who had been badmouthing Qin Yuzhen earlier.

Qin Yuzhen slung her bag over her shoulder and glanced at the people standing by the roadside. “Keep seething. If I wanted to debut, would I even need a talent show? I could just buy the company outright. It’s not shameful to admit you’re not as good as someone else. You’d be better off reading a few books instead of wasting your time like this.”

“Bet you’re fuming—smarter than you, prettier than you, and richer than you to boot.”

Uncle Liu rolled down the window, overheard Qin Yuzhen’s words, and immediately stepped out to open the car door for her, making sure to put on a grand display.

“Thanks, Uncle Liu.”

“Not a problem.”

Once inside the car, Qin Yuzhen could still see the sour expressions on their faces.

“Host, didn’t you say you weren’t going to bother with them?” The system sounded exasperated.

“Couldn’t help it.” Qin Yuzhen leaned back against the seat.

System: You kept up the aloof act all afternoon, only to crack at the last second.

“Young Miss, are you alright? Were you being bullied?” Uncle Liu asked with concern. In his eyes, Qin Yuzhen was just a well-behaved, academically gifted, and delicate young girl.

“It’s nothing. Just participated in a small competition, and because I did too well, some people got jealous,” Qin Yuzhen said. “Oh, and Uncle Liu, don’t tell anyone else about this. Wait until I actually win something—otherwise, it’d be too embarrassing.”

“Of course.” To Uncle Liu, this wasn’t a big deal. Kids cared about their pride, after all.

“Let’s go pick up Rong Xi now.”

“That’s exactly what I was planning.”