My Gloomy Stepsister Has Her Eyes on Me - Chapter 3

“Oh, look who’s here to walk the red carpet!”

As soon as Zhen Zhu entered Celia Theater, she heard a dog barking. Annoyed, she glared coldly at Yan Xiaozhen, who was blocking the door to the backstage dressing room.

“Move aside.”

“Heh, I won’t. What are you going to do about it?”

Yan Xiaozhen hated Zhen Zhu with a passion. The thought that she had practiced piano diligently for over twenty years, spent five years at Celia Theater, only to have her position stolen by some newcomer, infuriated her. She straightened her posture, blocking the dressing room door even more firmly.

“If you’re so talented, why are you here at my little theater? Why don’t you perform abroad? You just had to steal my spot!”

Zhen Zhu ignored her, turning to Zhen Min’er behind her. “Zhen Min’er, pull her aside.”

If she weren’t a woman, I’d have my bodyguards handle this already. Humph.

Zhen Min’er immediately stepped forward and tugged at Yan Xiaozhen’s sleeve. “Um, could you move aside? My sister needs to get in.”

“Hmph.”

Yan Xiaozhen refused to budge. She couldn’t stand the girl who always trailed behind Zhen Zhu, her eyes perpetually brimming with tears as if someone had wronged her. “What’s this? Did your mistress send you out to bite people?”

“Oh, your bites don’t even hurt,” Yan Xiaozhen sneered, glancing at Zhen Zhu. “Your mistress needs to get a new dog!”

A new dog? Absolutely not. Only she belonged by her sister’s side.

The girl’s soft, tearful eyes suddenly sharpened. Zhen Min’er lifted her head and glared directly at Yan Xiaozhen, her expression fierce enough to bite her to death.

Yan Xiaozhen jumped back in surprise. “You—”

“I don’t have any dogs around me,” Zhen Zhu interrupted. “But the barking at the door of this dressing room is giving me a headache.”

Zhen Zhu pulled Zhen Min’er behind her and instructed the bodyguard beside her, “Call the Principal over here.”

“Wait, are you a kindergarten kid or something?!” Yan Xiaozhen exclaimed, momentarily forgetting Zhen Min’er’s glare. She frantically grabbed the bodyguard’s arm to stop him. “You can’t win an argument so you’re running to an adult?!”

“And you called me a dog!”

“Oh.”

Zhen Zhu snorted coldly. Standing at a full 1.7 meters in her high heels, she glared down at the disgruntled woman before her. “So what if I insulted you? If you think you’re better than me, then prove it by bringing revenue or audiences to your Principal’s establishment.”

“Right now, you have nothing. What’s the point of picking a fight with me? If you drive me away, your Principal won’t make any money. Do you think he’ll spare you?”

Zhen Zhu’s lips curled into a smirk, her narrow, fox-like eyes sweeping across the tense atmosphere. The hem of her dress swayed slightly as she pulled Zhen Min’er past Yan Xiaozhen and into the dressing room.

Yan Xiaozhen could only watch helplessly as Zhen Zhu led her entourage of over a dozen people into the dressing room, forcing the original makeup artists into a corner. Several members of the group opened their makeup bags, revealing the latest luxury cosmetics from various high-end brands, and began gently applying makeup to the Eldest Miss’s face.

What a show-off! Furious, Yan Xiaozhen was about to confront them again when someone grabbed her arm. She was about to lash out when she turned and saw Director Lu, drenched in sweat. Swallowing her anger, she asked, “Director Lu?”

“Aiyo, my little troublemaker! Don’t cause any more trouble!” Director Lu warned Yan Xiaozhen in a hushed voice.

“You can’t participate in today’s performance.”

“Why not?!” Yan Xiaozhen’s voice rose eight octaves. She was about to retort when Director Lu clamped his hand over her mouth and dragged her to a corner.

Yan Xiaozhen angrily shook off Director Lu’s hand. “Principal, you didn’t see how arrogant and domineering that newcomer is! She…”

“Stop, stop!” Director Lu was sweating profusely. “She’s… just don’t worry about it. You can’t participate in today’s performance. Once she’s gone, you’ll be the lead again.”

“Why not?!” Yan Xiaozhen protested. “If it were any other day, I wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t see how packed the theater is today! What if she ruins the performance?!”

“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” Director Lu quickly reassured her. “She’s actually quite talented.”

Zhen Zhu ignored the muffled argument, focusing instead on the makeup artist’s work while scolding her stepsister.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you really a dog? Someone insults you, and you don’t even know how to bite back!”

Recalling the morning’s incident, Zhen Zhu grew increasingly agitated. “You dared to shove me earlier, but now you’re acting like such a coward?!”

As soon as Zhen Zhu finished speaking, she realized her mistake. “I didn’t even care about what happened this morning!”

“Well, in the future…”

“I’m sorry, Sister…”

Before Zhen Zhu could finish her retort, Zhen Min’er’s apology cut her off.

Forced to swallow her reprimand, Zhen Zhu paused in annoyance for several seconds before replying, “Hmph, good that you know.”

Sister, you’re so cute.

When the time came, Zhen Min’er watched her sister take the stage.

Zhen Zhu strode confidently, her long gown trailing behind her like a red carpet—coolly elegant yet breathtakingly luxurious.

“Hey, I heard you’re that woman’s sister? Like, her real sister?” A harsh voice interrupted Zhen Min’er’s gaze, which had been glued to her sister.

So noisy. Zhen Min’er loathed it, but she had to play her part. She lowered her head, feigning her usual meekness, and replied, “Um… I’m my sister’s younger sister, but we have different parents.”

Her eyes darkened. Zhen Min’er often resented not being Zhen Zhu’s full-blooded sister. If she were, they could be together forever.

Sister… Zhen Min’er watched her sister gracefully curtsy under the spotlight, lifting the hem of her gown as thunderous applause erupted from the audience below. Such a beautiful sister… why does everyone get to see her?

Her gaze shifted slightly to Yan Xiaozhen, who stood beside her, her face etched with surprise. Zhen Min’er’s voice wavered as she spoke, “You don’t really need to be jealous of Sister. She’s only here for one day. Even if all your listeners fall in love with her, they’ll never find her again.”

As she spoke, Zhen Min’er looked at her sister under the spotlight, her voice soft and dreamy, tinged with a strange, seductive quality. “The lights are so bright… it would be better if they were a little dimmer.”

“Of course… not too dim.”

“Otherwise,” Zhen Min’er pressed her lips together, feigning concern, “Sister wouldn’t be able to see the sheet music.”

Noticing the flickering uncertainty in Yan Xiaozhen’s eyes, Zhen Min’er fell silent. A subtle suggestion was enough; the final decision had to come from Yan Xiaozhen herself.

That way, Zhen Min’er could reassure herself that everything was fine, and she could continue being her sister’s obedient and loving younger sister.

However… Zhen Min’er stood behind the curtain, and many men were among the audience seated near the lower corner of the stage.

A flicker of disgust flashed through her eyes. Zhen Min’er slowly clenched her fist until the pain in her palm became unbearable, realizing something was amiss. To distract herself, she turned to Yan Xiaozhen, who remained silent beside her, tilting her head and widening her beautiful, deer-like eyes. “Why are you still here? My sister is all you need. With her here, you can rest easy.”

Rest easy?! What does this woman mean?! Yan Xiaozhen gritted her teeth, glaring fiercely at the seemingly innocent girl before turning and storming away.

She’ll never let this impostor steal her place on stage!

Looks like I succeeded. Zhen Min’er’s gaze remained fixed on Zhen Zhu. If my sister panics later, how can I make her like me even more?

If I get hurt because of her, she’ll definitely worry about me more.

Zhen Min’er’s eyes scanned the prop table behind her, spotting a pair of scissors. She picked them up and pressed her finger lightly against the blade.

A sharp pain pricked Zhen Min’er’s fingertip, turning it first blue-purple before a single bead of bl00d slowly welled up. She smeared the drop, tucked the scissors into her long sleeve, and her doe-like eyes sparkled with anticipation as she glanced toward the stage. There, her sister, Zhen Zhu, was gracefully walking toward the piano amid thunderous applause.

Refusing assistance, Zhen Zhu gathered the overly long hem of her gown, lifted it, and spread it out behind the piano bench. After smoothing the fabric, she sat down and gently raised the piano lid.

She unfolded the sheet music in her right hand, placed it on the piano, and nodded to the conductor beside her.

Her fingertips hovered over the black and white keys as she glanced at the score, then pressed down on the first note—

Ding—

Click.

The stage lights suddenly went out.

Total darkness.

Zhen Zhu lifted her finger from the key and frowned at the conductor. What was happening? Was this an accident?

The conductor, visibly flustered, glanced around nervously and whispered, “Why did the stage lights go out?!”

Noticing Zhen Zhu’s gaze, he hurried forward. “Miss Zhen, there seems to be a minor issue. The lights should be back on in a few seconds.”

Seeing him sweating with anxiety after just a moment, Zhen Zhu scoffed coldly. “I’m fine, but the audience won’t be so forgiving after such a glaring blunder in the performance.”

Almost as soon as Zhen Zhu finished speaking, a clamor erupted from the audience.

“What’s going on?”

“Why hasn’t it started yet?”

“Is there a problem?”

“What’s the reason? Could something terrible have happened? Principal? Where’s the Principal?!”

At first, it was just murmurs and restless shuffling, but the noise grew louder by the second. Within three minutes, the audience’s uproar had reached a fever pitch.

The Conductor, clearly inexperienced in handling such emergencies, huddled with the violinists and choir members in a circle on stage, frantically debating what to do. They fretted about what would happen if they went backstage and the lights suddenly came on, or what would happen if they didn’t go and the lights remained off indefinitely.

What a small-time theater, Zhen Zhu thought, her inner sharpness surfacing. Panicking over such a minor incident.

“Enough!” she snapped. “Stop your fretting. It won’t solve anything. Is this really worth all the fuss?”

Zhen Zhu immediately seized command, directing the group: “Conductor, go backstage. Choir, stop singing. Orchestra, don’t move. Wait for the conductor to return.”

The group remained motionless, regarding Zhen Zhu as if she were a clueless child.

“What right do you have to give orders? What if something goes wrong?”

“What if the lights suddenly come on?” The conductor stopped the speaker, secretly wiping his sweat as he asked anxiously.

“At least I won’t let this performance become a joke.”

Zhen Zhu frowned. “Why haven’t you gone backstage to ask the Principal what’s happening?”

“Go resolve this immediately. Command of the stage is mine now. I’ll take responsibility for any issues that arise,” Zhen Zhu said coldly.

“Alright, alright,” the conductor nodded repeatedly. “With Miss Zhen here, I feel reassured.”

“Everyone, listen to Miss Zhen!” the conductor announced to the group before hurrying behind the curtain.

Seeing the conductor rush backstage, Zhen Zhu waved everyone back to their positions. “Wait here. When the conductor returns, resume the original performance.”

“What exactly are you trying to do?” someone asked, clearly confused.

A smarter member’s eyes widened. “Miss Zhen, are you planning to…?”

“Just follow my instructions.”

Zhen Zhu impatiently raised her head. In the dim light, her clear, piercing eyes seemed even brighter as she coldly surveyed the crowd. “If you can’t solve this, listen to me.”

The conductor hurried toward the curtain, colliding with a visibly anxious Zhen Min’er. He nearly snapped at her, but recognizing Zhen Zhu’s younger sister, he reluctantly helped her up from the floor.

“Um… what’s happening on stage? Is my sister alright?” Zhen Min’er asked, her eyes brimming with tears as she clung to the conductor’s arm. “I… I…”

“Aiya, little miss, let me get backstage first…”

Even though the girl was pretty, the theater’s future was at stake. The conductor couldn’t afford to linger. He tried to shake her off, but hesitated to use force.

As the two were arguing—

A sudden, sharp piano chord rang out, shattering the chaotic clamor of the audience. It wasn’t the originally scheduled piece’s gentle, melodious strains, but a powerful, stirring melody that instantly silenced the crowd.

Only the piano music could be heard.

With overwhelming force, it cascaded down in an instant, instantly drawing the anxious and confused crowd into the dark, exhilarating, and joyous sound.

From the majestic flow of mountain streams to the cheerful chirping of birds, from the fierce battlefield to the bustling marketplace.

Click— The stage lights, previously dimmed, suddenly blazed to life.

Under the spotlight, the woman in red swayed, her long hair swaying, and the crimson train of her gown danced with the movements of her fingers. Zhen Min’er couldn’t quite make out her sister’s expression on stage, but she knew it must be calm, fearless, and gentle.

Sister, you’re so beautiful.

The hand that had been gripping the conductor’s sleeve loosened. As Zhen Min’er gazed at her sister on stage, she once again, yet again, recognized her own inferiority.

Yet she couldn’t suppress the longing in her heart… the desire to draw closer.