Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ever since I was very little, I knew my mom was the Female Lead and my dad was the Male Lead.

I knew because words floated above their heads.

I spent hours scouring through books while holding Aunt Zhang’s hand until I finally pieced it together: the characters above Mom’s head read “Female Lead,” and the ones above Dad’s read “Male Lead.”

I asked Aunt Zhang what a Male Lead and a Female Lead were.

She smiled and told me they were like a prince and a princess.

She picked up a copy of *Snow White* and read the whole story to me.

And so, the prince and princess lived happily ever after.

I thought it was a wonderful story.

My parents were affectionate, and our home was harmonious. Aside from Grandma occasionally nagging them to have a second child, we were the happiest family imaginable.

However, fate is fickle.

When I was five, a storm hit our family.

I saw another person with words above her head.

She was a very beautiful woman. After Dad picked her up from the airport, she collapsed into his arms and sobbed.

Mom and I had just returned from kindergarten.

The moment we opened the door, we saw them clinging to each other.

They were stunned.

We were stunned too.

Dad started explaining.

The woman started explaining too.

But Mom’s face grew darker and darker.

Meanwhile, I was carefully studying the four characters above the woman’s head: Vil-lain-ous Fe-male…

What was that last character?

I didn’t recognize it.

Since my parents were busy, I had to go to Aunt Zhang again.

I finally found the character in a book: Supporting.

Villainess Supporting Character.

I asked Aunt Zhang what those words meant.

She nearly doubled over with laughter.

“Oh my, how does our little Yaya know about the Villainess Supporting Character at such a young age?”

Laughing, she shared it as a joke with Grandma, Dad, and Mom.

Usually, little anecdotes like this about me served as seasoning for the dinner table, sending the whole family into fits of laughter.

But that day, only Grandma laughed.

Dad looked displeased.

Mom’s face was grim.

The other woman looked like she was about to cry.

She put down her chopsticks and said in a panic, “Sister-in-law, I’m sorry. I’ll leave right now. I’ll never come back.”

She turned and ran out.

Dad rushed after her.

Grandma’s smile vanished, her expression turning cold. “Song Wanqing, is this how you teach your child?”

Aunt Zhang hurried to carry me away.

I felt like I had caused trouble.

But why was Mom the one getting scolded?

I insisted on asking, “What does ‘Villainess Supporting Character’ actually mean?”

Aunt Zhang didn’t know how to explain it.

She eventually let out a long sigh. “In books, the Villainess Supporting Character is the person who breaks up the Male and Female Leads. They usually act innocent and play the victim to gain sympathy. Then, everyone helps them bully the Female Lead. But don’t worry, the ending is always good. The Villainess Supporting Character will definitely meet a miserable end, and the Male Lead will eventually realize how good the Female Lead is and win her back.”

She spoke with such certainty that I believed her.

But things didn’t seem to be playing out the way she said they would.

The woman, my adoptive aunt named Anxin, was brought back.

It was pouring rain outside, and she was soaked to the bone.

She was wearing Dad’s shirt on top and only a pair of short shorts on the bottom. Her long, slender legs were bare as Dad carried her back inside.

She said pitifully, “Sister-in-law, I’m sorry. Big brother was worried about me and wouldn’t let me leave. I promise, as soon as I’m better, I’ll go.”

There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with her words.

But my chest felt tight and stifled.

I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what.

That night, I fell asleep, only to be woken up by Mom’s tears wetting my cheek.

I stayed perfectly still and heard Mom’s low, tearful voice:

“Did I say she couldn’t stay here? If I had said it, I’d own up to it. But I didn’t. Why are these words being forced on me? Why does everyone assume I can’t tolerate her? Yu Zhenting, is that really the kind of person I am to you?”

I wanted to say, “No.”

But when I opened my mouth, it was as if I had lost my voice; I couldn’t utter a single word.

It wasn’t until the thought of advising Mom vanished that the terrifying sensation of being controlled slowly faded away.

Later, this happened several more times.

I finally understood that I was unable to do anything that would change the plot.

It was as if we had all fallen into a whirlpool of a story.

A single drop of water trying its hardest to struggle out of a vortex is, to some extent, overestimating its own strength.

But that was Mom.

My gentle, kind Mom.

She was so pure and good.

She would read me stories in her soft voice; she would clean my scraped knees with iodine, her heart aching for me; she would wake up early to cook the breakfast I wanted; she would fight off sleep in the middle of the night to tuck me in; and when I was sick, she would rush me to the doctor in a frantic blur.

She was so wonderful.

She shouldn’t be misunderstood or bullied.

I, this tiny drop of water, really wanted to see what it felt like to swim against the current.