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Chapter 18

Song Yangyao's POV:

As I sat in my room, replaying the events of the dinner earlier, I couldn't help but feel utterly perplexed. The Song Yanyan I had known all my life - the weak, timid, and naive sister I could so easily bully and manipulate - seemed to have vanished, replaced by a whole new person.

The way she had stood up to our overbearing relatives, throwing barb after barb with such confidence and quick-witted comebacks, it was almost as if I was looking at a stranger. If I didn't know her so well, I might have even thought it was a different person entirely.

I furrowed my brow, trying to make sense of this sudden transformation. What had happened to the meek, easily-cowed Yanyan I used to know? And more importantly, what did this mean for me and my plans?

I couldn't help but notice that Yanyan hadn't been drinking her favourite freshly squeezed orange juice during dinner lately, opting for water instead. That was certainly out of the ordinary - she usually downed those juices without a second thought.

Could it be that she somehow knew about the little... additions I had been making to her drinks? The Prozac I had been secretly slipping in, hoping to keep her a fatty that she was? But that didn't make any sense. Yanyan was hardly the brightest bulb in the box, constantly struggling with her studies. How could she have possibly figured it out?

I chewed on my lower lip, my mind racing with possibilities. There had to be some secret, some hidden knowledge that Yanyan was privy to, something that had given her this newfound confidence and defiance. But what could it be?

Suddenly, a thought struck me - what if she knew something about what mom told me? Could that be the reason behind her sudden transformation? Could she have somehow unravelled that tangled web of lies and deceit?

I felt a chill run down my spine at the prospect. If Yanyan had discovered any crucial information, it could spell disaster for my mother. After all, she had gone to great lengths to ensure that the truth remained buried.

Gripping the edge of my bed, I steeled myself. I couldn't afford to let Yanyan's newfound boldness catch me off guard. I would need to be more vigilant, more cunning than ever before. Whatever secret she was hiding, I would find it out and nip it in the bud before it could unravel everything we had worked so hard to protect.

The stakes were high, but I was not about to let my sister - my inferior, stupid sister - best me. I would do whatever it took to maintain the upper hand, to keep Yanyan firmly in her place. After all, she was nothing compared to me, the true heir to the Song family legacy.

As I sat brooding in my room, trying to piece together the mystery behind Yanyan's sudden transformation, my eyes happened to catch a glimpse of something on my Weibo feed. It was a post about a prestigious dance competition, hosted by one of the most famous choreographers in all of China.

My heart skipped a beat as I read the details - the grand prize, the esteemed panel of judges, the opportunity to perform on a national stage. It was the kind of dream that had always flickered in the back of my mind, even though I knew the harsh reality - dancing was not one of my strengths.

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness as I recalled the reason behind Yanyan's weight gain and diminishing passion for dance. It was all because of the Prozac I had been slipping into her drinks, hoping to keep her docile and unappealing, both physically and in spirit.

You see, the truth was, I loved dancing too. But I knew I could never match up to Yanyan's natural talent and grace on the dance floor. Every time she would twirl and leap, moving with a fluidity that I could only dream of, it would ignite a jealousy so intense, it bordered on obsession.

So I had taken matters into my own hands, determined to snuff out that part of her that shone so brightly. If Yanyan couldn't dance, then she couldn't outshine me, couldn't make me feel like the inferior sister. It was a petty, twisted logic, but in my mind, it had made perfect sense.

And for a while, it worked. Yanyan had become withdrawn, self-conscious about her body, and her once-vibrant passion for dance had all but faded. I had thought I had won, that I had finally put her in her place.

But now, as I stared at the glittering details of this competition, I felt a surge of panic. What if Yanyan had somehow discovered my little scheme? What if she was planning to enter and reclaim that part of herself that I had so cruelly taken away?

The thought of her standing on that stage, commanding the spotlight, filled me with a deep, unsettling dread. I couldn't let that happen, not when I had worked so hard to keep her down. I had to find a way to stop her, to crush this newfound confidence and defiance before it could blossom into something I couldn't control.

With a determined glint in my eye, I set my jaw, already formulating a plan. Yanyan may have found her voice, but I would not go down without a fight. This was my chance to regain the upper hand, to remind her - and everyone else - that I was the true heir to the Song family legacy, the one who would stop at nothing to come out on top.

With this competition dangling before me, I saw a glimmer of opportunity. Perhaps I could convince Yanyan to teach me, to share the secrets of her dancing prowess. If I could just master the basics, maybe even impress the judges, then I could finally step out of her shadow and into the spotlight I so desperately craved.

The thought of standing on that stage, commanding the attention of the audience, filled me with a sense of exhilaration. It wasn't just about the dancing anymore - it was about finally being recognized, being known for something other than just being the "other" Song sister.

You see, my true dream wasn't just to dance; it was to be a renowned pianist. I had always been drawn to the intricate, soulful melodies of the piano, and I had spent countless hours honing my skills in private, away from the prying eyes of my family. But without the proper training and exposure, I knew my dream would remain just that - a dream.

This dance competition could be the key to unlocking that door. If I could win, or even place highly, the recognition and opportunities that would follow could be my ticket to a life beyond the constraints of this stifling household. I could make a name for myself, become known as more than just the forgettable sister of the infamous Song Yanyan.

With a newfound sense of determination, I set my jaw and began to formulate a plan. I would need to tread carefully, of course, as Yanyan's sudden transformation had thrown me for a loop. But I was nothing if not a skilled manipulator, and I was confident I could find a way to get her to cooperate.

Perhaps I could appeal to her newfound sense of confidence, her desire to prove herself to our family. Or maybe I could dangle the prospect of some sort of truce, a temporary ceasefire in our endless sibling rivalry. Whatever it took, I would find a way to get Yanyan to teach me, to share the secrets of her dancing prowess.

And once I had mastered the basics, once I had tasted the thrill of performing on that stage, I would be unstoppable. I would enter the competition myself, and I would win. The fame, the accolades, the recognition - it would all be mine.

With that victory, I could then turn my attention to my true passion, the piano. I would use the platform and connections I had gained to kickstart my journey towards becoming a renowned pianist, a virtuoso whose name would be whispered with reverence throughout the music halls of China.

The path ahead was not an easy one, and I knew I would need to tread carefully, lest Yanyan catch wind of my true intentions. But the prize at the end was more than worth the risk. This was my chance to finally step out of her shadow and into the spotlight I had so long craved.

And I would stop at nothing to make it happen.

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