She’s a Passerby, But Can See the Protagonist’s Halo

Inside the Chu family’s small restaurant, the four of them held their phones, their pupils trembling with shock.

Yan’s chopsticks had just picked up a piece of beef, but it slipped off as her eyes filled with bewilderment.

“Oh my god, what kind of soap opera is this?”

“Isn’t this just like the ‘switched at birth’ trope you see in novels? It’s actually real?” Chu Bingbing’s mouth hung open.

“I don’t get it. So the adoptive daughter did all those things to Gu Jiasui, and her biological parents couldn’t have been unaware, right? They just stood by and did nothing?” Chu Shen was equally stunned.

They all shook their heads. From the perspective of normal people, it was truly unfathomable.

Yan picked up the beef again and stuffed it into her mouth. After chewing and swallowing, her brows relaxed slightly. On Weibo at that moment, the hashtag “Gu Jiasui biological daughter, Lu Jianian adoptive daughter” was blazing red with the labels “explosive” and “trending.”

“But Jiasui’s biological grandfather seems to treat her pretty well,” Yan mused aloud.

Previously, Gu Jiasui had gone to the antique market specifically for this grandfather’s birthday banquet and managed to snag that prized Lánmò inkstone, which showed just how much the old man adored his real granddaughter.

Especially since, at the time, Yan and Zhu Jue had just returned with the Jidao racing team. She had stumbled upon the online discussions, where Lu Jianian’s fans were once again whining about how “Niannian” wasn’t given the spotlight in group photos.

As Yan spoke, Chu Bingbing quickly searched for the earlier posts.

“Wow, netizens work fast. My feed is already flooded with a ‘historical deep dive into the Lu family’s two daughters.’”

Back when no one knew that “Lu Jianian was the adoptive daughter and Gu Jiasui the biological one,” some people could still rationalize the parents’ favoritism.

But now, the overwhelming majority were baffled and disbelieving.

“I’m so lost, folks. So, two years ago in that family reality show, Gu Jiasui—the actual biological daughter—had just been found and brought back to the Lu family? And then her dad ignored her, her mom didn’t care, everyone was obsessed with the adoptive sister, while she was made to look like a clumsy fool and got dragged online as some ‘attention-seeking show-off’? Like, seriously? Who *wouldn’t* be devastated?”

“Honestly, I have to ask—is Lu Jianian really just an adoptive daughter and not some secret love child? In my village, if an aunt lost her kid, she’d search for seven years straight, and once technology helped her find the child, she’d move heaven and earth to make up for it. Are rich people’s biological children really that worthless?”

“There’s one thing I don’t get. The biological child went missing over a decade ago, and the Lu family was already powerful back then. How could they not find her? Did they adopt a replacement? The real daughter suffered for eighteen years while the adoptive one grew up in luxury, debuted as a child star, and had everything handed to her? Just thinking about it makes my chest hurt.”

“I know favoritism happens in families with multiple kids—hearts are biased, after all—but I never imagined parents would favor an adoptive child over their own flesh and blood. Looking back at Lu Jianian’s history, she’s the epitome of a green tea b*tch. She enjoyed eighteen years of privilege and then sucked the spotlight and affection away from Gu Jiasui. Does she feel *no* guilt?”

Most netizens couldn’t comprehend it, though a few tried to rationally analyze why Gu Jiasui was “unloved.”

“Lu may be adopted, but she was raised as the real deal, given all these resources. A child groomed from infancy versus a ‘wild child’ who grew up outside the family? Remember that episode in the show where the Lu family’s housekeeper said, ‘The eldest young lady is unfit for polite society’? Let that sink in.”

“Got it. Lu Jianian is the nation’s sweetheart, the polished golden child who brings pride to the family, while the biological daughter is an embarrassment.”

“For some parents, kids are just accessories to boost their own prestige—glory shared, shame suffered. Think about family gatherings—no one ever brings up the underachievers, right?”

“But even if the parents are biased, Gu Jiasui is still the heir. Love goes one way, money the other—isn’t that fair?”

“Ha! You do realize the Lu Group is still firmly in the old man’s hands, right? Grandpa wants his real granddaughter, not the fake one.”

Because this gossip hit so close to home, the already leisurely meal slowed to a crawl as they processed the bombshell revelations.

Chu Bingbing mashed potatoes into her rice before shoveling a huge bite into her mouth. Carbs and starch—the ultimate combo! She swallowed with immense satisfaction.

“The netizens make a good point. Thank goodness Jiasui’s grandfather loves her. At least *someone* in that family has their head on straight,” she said, shuddering at the thought.

“The Lu Group’s real estate empire…” Chu Shen pondered.

“The family business was built by the old man, then they rode the wave of economic boom. The next generation just coasted on that success.”

Yan digested this. As a local of Bin City, Chu Shen’s implication was clear: Gu Jiasui’s biological parents weren’t exactly stellar themselves.

“Jiasui, ah… Who knows how long she’s kept this bottled up? Think about it—she dropped out of that show, aced her exams, got into Bin University—probably to prove herself to her parents. And what did they do? Stayed blind.”

Chu Bingbing thought about Gu Jiasui’s usual calm demeanor, how nothing ever seemed to rattle her. Maybe… she’d just grown numb to disappointment.

No wonder she wasn’t even fazed when this morning’s drama blew up on the trending searches. She’s been through the wringer so many times. But how much heartbreak does it take to reach that level of detachment?

She sighed inwardly. She’d once read something online about how children doted on by their parents grew up bright and bold, while those who endured hardship alone often became withdrawn.

Blow after blow could turn even the sunniest personality into someone guarded, their warmth locked behind a shell.

Yan listened without comment, because she and Zhu Jue knew something the others didn’t.

She ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‍suspected that, to Gu Jiasui, her parents in this life were no different from strangers. Reciprocity mattered—her grandfather’s love was returned, but as for those two parents and that adoptive sister? In Jiasui’s eyes, they were probably just flies buzzing annoyingly in the background.

And as for the family’s wealth or the glamorous life of a celebrity? Compared to her status in her past life, none of it held any appeal.

From what Yan could see, Gu Jiasui genuinely enjoyed her current life as a university student.

Still, even flies grew tiresome if they buzzed long enough. If this scandal could swat them away for good, all the better.

Today’s special at the Chu family’s restaurant was a new dish—the braised pork with potatoes they’d barely tasted last time before being abruptly dragged away. With no interruptions this time, they ate until they were stuffed.

“What a day. Full stomach, full brain—this drama…” Chu Bingbing sprawled on the sofa, shamelessly rubbing her belly.

Yan shook her head at the sight. Where was her dignity?

Meanwhile, the group chat was blowing up.

Clearly, while the cat abuse scandal had passed, Yi Zhi—whoever knew where she was now—had started @-ing Gu Jiasui.

There were no words of comfort or sympathy—her question was practical.

**[Yi Zhi]**: @Gu Jiasui, do you need someone to pick you up? Are you staying in the dorm tonight or going home?

Seeing this message, Yan nodded to herself.

Ever since the incident at the beginning of the semester when Lu Jianian had caused a scene, and given that Jiasui usually lived on campus, everyone on the third floor knew which dorm was hers. Even students from other floors or buildings could easily find out by asking around.

At the start of the semester, Gu Jiasui had drawn a lot of attention, but as time passed, people gradually began to treat her like any other student.

But now, with Monday just around the corner, Yan suspected that she and Jiasui would once again become the center of attention during their morning classes.

Of course, she was just the invisible bystander caught in the crossfire of everyone’s gazes whenever she stood next to Jiasui.

"Beautiful, strong, tragic," Chu Shen remarked.

Beautiful, strong, tragic—netizens had already summed it up. Gu Jiasui was practically the textbook definition of a "beautiful, strong, tragic" female archetype.

**[Gu Jiasui]**: It's fine. Leaving would only make things more complicated. Pengpeng needs someone around, so I’ll be staying at school for now.

As always, Jiasui’s reply was exactly what Yan had expected.

During the afternoon they spent at Chu Shen’s shop, each time they refreshed their feeds, they were met with the latest investigative revelations from the internet’s self-proclaimed Sherlock Holmeses and Edogawa Conans.

By the time Yan and Zhu Jue boarded the subway with their takeout boxes of food, it had been confirmed beyond doubt that the "cat abuse whistleblower" account was one of Lu Jianian’s alt accounts.

Though some of Lu Jianian’s fans were still insisting it was all fake and fighting back desperately, a large number had already turned against her.

"Why would you spread such rumors about your own sister? She’s never done anything to you. Jianian, why would you do this?"

"I’m sorry. I should’ve realized long ago that you’re not the little girl I admired growing up."

"So all those times on variety shows, when you kept bragging about how much your parents adored you, it was just to make Gu Jiasui feel bad, wasn’t it?"

"First, you said your sister wouldn’t open the door for you in the dorm, then you claimed your grandpa favored her on his birthday—everyone felt so sorry for you. Now that the truth is out, all I can say is: wow. You stole over a decade of privilege from her, and yet you still had the audacity to play the victim everywhere?"

Because the deeper the love, the sharper the betrayal. Now, without their rose-tinted glasses, fans who had turned against her could see—and dissect—every little detail they’d once overlooked. Their words were laced with sorrow and disappointment.

"Jianian, this is the last time I’ll call you that. You once said you were our 'TV friend.' But now, you feel like a stranger. The person I loved was the perfect Lu Jianian—the one with the flawless family, looks, and talent—because that was the life I dreamed of. You were my dream friend. But we’re not friends anymore."

Lu Jianian, who had debuted as a child star, had essentially grown up alongside her audience. She was the "TV friend" of an entire generation, and because of that childhood nostalgia, even strangers instinctively defended her.

But now, the illusion had shattered. People realized she was just a carefully crafted image—that the adorable little girl they’d loved might not have grown up so lovely after all. Her heart had darkened.

"Her follower count is dropping so fast," Yan mused, staring at her phone.

Gu Jiasui’s followers were skyrocketing, while Lu Jianian’s numbers plummeted by the thousands with every refresh.

"If she’s smart, she’ll apologize and leave the entertainment industry for good. Given how much her adoptive parents dote on her, plus the money she’s made over the years, she’ll still live better than any of us," Zhu Jue said.

"True. I heard she earns tens of millions per drama. With her level of fame, her adoptive parents even said on a show that all her earnings were hers to keep."

Yan thought about it—even if Lu Jianian retired now, she’d still be richer than most billionaires. Compared to them, she was loaded.

With public opinion so firmly against her and no moral high ground to stand on, her best move was to step back. The internet had a short memory, and she’d still be a wealthy heiress.

The thought made Yan’s blood boil.

*This* was what people called luck—stealing someone else’s life, using those resources to climb the social ladder, and walking away unscathed.

Meanwhile, Gu Jiasui was calmly sharing a video in the group chat—little cat Pengpeng’s acupuncture session had gone well again. Yan could even hear Jiasui and Brother Xiao laughing in the background.

*Ah, the princess and the miracle doctor.*

Unshaken, as if the world could collapse around them and they wouldn’t even blink.

Yan brought the takeout boxes back to the dorm and left them on the balcony to cool.

**[Yan]**: Roomies, I’m back~ Got the braised pork and potatoes~

She sent the message to the dorm group. Since she’d returned early, no one else was around.

**[Chu Bingbing]**: YAN CHECK WEIBO! LU JIANIAN’S BEING CRYPTIC!

This was sent privately.

Yan blinked, then quickly opened her phone. She and Zhu Jue hadn’t checked their phones while walking across campus—what new drama had unfolded?

**[Lu Jianian]**: The past eighteen years have felt like a dream. I thought I was the dream’s master, but dreams don’t obey our will—we don’t get to choose them. Now that the golden dream’s bubbles have burst, the one who blew them has chased after new, distant bubbles. Thank you to those who still love this ordinary girl.

As soon as Yan read the post, Chu Bingbing’s messages flooded in.

**[Chu Bingbing]**: At first glance, it seems fine, but something feels off. Like she’s talking in riddles.

**[Chu Bingbing]**: The internet works fast! Someone’s already decoded it! [Link]

Yan clicked the link.

**[Ex-fan, now neutral observer here to decode this post. The tone is textbook Lu Jianian—no doubt she wrote it herself. Let me break it down sentence by sentence.]**

**[First line is straightforward: Lu thought she was living a dream (i.e., being the beloved biological daughter), but it turns out it was just an illusion. The key is the second line: "Dreams don’t obey our will—we don’t get to choose them." Read between the lines—there’s resentment here! Any seasoned Lu Jianian analyst can tell this translates to: "I didn’t choose to be adopted, the Lu family took me in. Why are you all blaming me?"]**

**[Now the third line. Combined with the previous one, now that the truth is out (her real identity and background), her "rich heiress" image is gone. The "one who blew the bubbles" refers to us—the fans who left her because we were drawn to her wealth and status. "Chased after new, distant bubbles" is a jab at Gu Jiasui, the newly revealed real heiress. She’s implying we’re shallow gold-diggers who only care about money and status.]**

【The last line of her post was particularly classic—claiming she was just an ordinary girl, clearly fishing for sympathy from her obsessed fans. "I have no status now; only you, my loyal friends (fans), are still by my side." If it were the old me, my heart would've ached instantly reading this.】

【One Weibo post, three tactics: shifting blame, veiled sarcasm, and playing the victim—Lu Jianian’s signature move. Her past posts had the same vibe. I’ve been decoding her for ten years; I’m practically the tapeworm in her gut. If you know any longtime fan who’s followed her for at least three years, they’d interpret it exactly like this. We’re all seasoned foxes here—her little theatrics are transparent to us.】

Yan stared at the analysis by this "Lu-ologist," utterly stunned. Without this breakdown, she might have overthought it, but never to this extent.

After all, if Lu Jianian hadn’t posted this at such a sensitive time, an ordinary person might’ve taken it as a sudden, heartfelt outpouring.

This "Lu-ologist" didn’t stop at just one post—they compiled a whole anthology of past textual analyses of Lu Jianian’s Weibo. Suddenly, netizens were diving headfirst into "Lu-ology," marveling at the new insights they’d gained.

Meanwhile, under Lu Jianian’s post, swarms of fans with titles like "Gold Fan," "Diamond Fan," and "Super Diamond Fan"—still bearing their fandom badges—announced they were cutting ties.

Among them, Yan noticed a lengthy comment, formatted as an image due to word limits, from what seemed to be a major fan with over 200,000 followers.

"Jianian, do you really think people are criticizing you just because you lost your heiress status? I’m disappointed. Did you honestly believe all your past popularity was just because people worship wealth and power?"

"You’ve underestimated us—and yourself."

"Right now, you must feel so wronged. The Lu family adopted you, raised you for over a decade into who you are today—how could they do this to you? Why should you have to give any of it up? But let’s be clear, Jianian: in front of Gu Jiasui, you’ll always be beneath her. Not because you’re the adopted daughter and she’s the biological one, but because you’re the beneficiary."

"You stole eighteen years of the life that should’ve been hers. You enjoyed everything meant for her. That’s the original sin."

"You could’ve been sisters. The Lu family never publicly disclosed your adopted status—they still acknowledged you as their daughter. But you panicked. The moment Gu Jiasui came home, you schemed to hog the spotlight, to monopolize your parents’ affection, to prove you were still superior. You resented her for returning, because you believed it all belonged to you. You wished she’d disappear, that she’d never measure up, so your parents’ attention would stay fixed on you."

"But Jianian, none of this was ever yours."

"You’ve been living a dream. It’s time to wake up. You’ve reaped more than enough from it."

"You grew up in one of the country’s wealthiest families. While I was playing in mud as a kid, you were traveling the world with your parents. You debuted as a child star surrounded by celebrities, basking in applause and adoration, never facing setbacks. You were adopted into what most people could only dream of—effortlessly vaulting over the class barriers that crush ordinary lives. By adulthood, you were earning hundreds of thousands per day for a single acting role, not to mention the connections and prestige you’d built over the years."

"The Lu parents once said in an interview: your earnings, red envelopes, and properties are all under your name. Even if you retired tomorrow, you’d still be a billionaire."

"Jianian, you’ve gained so much so easily. Greed swallows the snake whole. A person’s worth lies in knowing their limits. I can’t be your friend anymore."

Yan could feel the raw, heartfelt emotion pouring from this fan’s lengthy farewell. Every word struck true.

Honestly, given the Lu family’s wealth and the parents’ doting, it was clear this adopted daughter had been genuinely cherished. Keeping her status private was itself an act of love and protection.

Now, seeing Lu Jianian squander such a golden hand, onlookers circulated the fan’s comment, dripping with envy.

"To anyone still pitying your ‘poor sister,’ wake up—even offline and out of the industry, she’s a billionaire. Save your tears for yourselves."

"Adopted into extreme wealth, a child star rubbing shoulders with A-listers, a picture-perfect fiancé… I’d only dare to dream of this life in novels. How could you mess it up?"

"It’s because she’s had it all that she’s terrified to lose it. Lu’s insecurities made her lash out, desperate to suppress Gu Jiasui. But this time, she drowned in her own mess."

"Fortune favors the worthy. The heavens handed her a royal flush, and she played it like a losing hand. Zero sympathy for beneficiaries who cry foul. Can a rich family adopt me instead?"

Lu Jianian’s downfall was swift—collapsing within half a day.

Meanwhile, netizens prayed to the heavens: at least it wasn’t a criminal scandal. Please don’t take their favorite shows off the air! After all, Lu Jianian had starred in countless classics since childhood—how else could she be such a nationally beloved star?

The following week, Yan found herself under scrutiny again—but unlike the curiosity around Gu Jiasui’s arrival, the gazes now held pity. People often approached Gu Jiasui to chat, asking about the campus cat or little Pengpeng.

In short, thanks to Gu Jiasui’s ordeal, Yan’s social life got an accidental boost.

Perhaps the combined fallout of both incidents was too overwhelming, because Yan and Zhu Jue spent an uneventful week.

Come Saturday—auspicious for travel—they finally headed to the beach, just before Bin City’s temperature plummeted for good.

Swimming was off the table, but a stroll along the shore was still possible.

The sea breeze was strong as they walked the pebbled path. Then Yan saw it: a door ahead of her.

A familiar wooden door.

The interdimensional convenience store—it was back!