Facade of Tears: Jane's Deceptive Ploy

William Blake held her, whispering comfortingly, "Little girl, let it all out. Crying will make you feel better..."

Jane threw herself into his arms and wept loudly, her cries hoarse with exertion, her sobs unceasing, the very breath robbed from her chest. Yet, nestled against William Blake where he couldn't see, Jane's eyes were sinisterly wide open. William Blake, keep up your pretense, for one day, I will make sure your end is unbearably grim!

"Mr. William..."

It was just then that the secretary, Xiaocheng, opened the door and stepped in, pausing slightly at the scene before her.

Jane hastily retreated from William Blake's embrace, her face instantly painted with a misunderstood panic. She glanced at Xiaocheng and then at William Blake, stammering an explanation, "Sister Xiaocheng, I... I..."

As a secretary, Xiaocheng was keenly astute. With William Blake's silent smirk, she quickly caught on, stepped forward, and placed the clothes in her hand on the couch, saying, "Miss Mallory, if you're still not feeling well, perhaps you should take a proper rest. I'll inform the coach."

"No!" Jane cried out decisively, "If I don't go, I'll be disqualified, leaving a bad impression on the teachers and judges, and I won't be able to make it to the finals!" She looked at William Blake as she spoke, her eyes filled with fear.

Xiaocheng was surprised. She had clearly created an opportunity for Mallory to be alone with Mr. William, which would have been the best path for her future. Unexpectedly, the girl not only lacked appreciation but was foolish to a fault. Xiaocheng then turned to look at William Blake.

A faint smile always graced William Blake's face. He suddenly stood up, patted Jane gently on the shoulder, and said, "Do your best." With those words, he strode towards the door.

"Mr. William," Xiaocheng glanced at Mallory and followed William Blake.

Jane listened to the sound of the door closing and a cold smile crept onto her lips. She had just gambled, pretending not to understand the veiled rules of conduct that Little Cheng hinted at. So what if she spent a night with William Blake? If William Blake succeeded in his pursuit, she might be discarded immediately. She was not here to become William Blake's one-night mistress!

She needed to cultivate the image of a poor yet determined woman in front of William Blake, to show that she would go to any length, sacrificing her ideals and suffering indignities, to raise money to save her mother. She joined this beauty pageant, an event that respectable women would typically avoid. Due to her young age and strong will, she never considered seducing William Blake to climb the social ladder. She followed the competition rules earnestly, hoping to leave a good impression on both the judges and the audience.

What naïve, pitiful Cinderella she was.

After picking up her clothes from the couch and getting dressed in the bathroom, she freshened up her makeup and hair. Jane opened the room's door and re-entered the party scene. From William Blake's reaction just before, he need not be considered for the time being. He would surely have someone check her full resume to see if she was lying to him, a move that would fit his usual cautious behavior.

What she needed to worry about now was the threat from Shayla—she had made Shayla lose face in front of the public and the distinguished crowd. Even though she won everyone's sympathy at the moment and narrowly escaped Shayla's retribution by flattering her, Shayla was not an easy opponent. She would find every opportunity to make Jane leave sooner! And with Shayla's current status, to make a mere pageant contender like her disappear would be like turning her hand over.

However, when Jane returned to the party, Shayla was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the other contestants watched her with especially hostile eyes.

Contestant number one, Lucas, commented on her new dress, "Wow, fame from a fall, huh? Did the little sparrow get to perch on a high branch by using Sister Lu? Not seen for a moment and you're already in a designer evening gown? Which boss took a shine to you?"

"Shameless! The finals haven't even started and you're already playing tricks? But let me tell you, you can't just walk into this circle whenever you wish. A mere high school student competing for beauty queen? Better go home and drink your milk!" Contestant number twenty-eight, Sophia Anderson, who had a nouveau riche godfather, had been boasting about all the luxury items he had given her since training began. She had even declared that she could easily reach the finals because of her connections.

"They're all no good!" Another contestant couldn't bear to listen any longer and rolled her eyes before walking away.

In such a competitive event, everyone is merely a rival; there can be no heartfelt confidences. It wouldn't be worth it to argue with any of them. Jane noticed a man in casual business attire sitting on a sofa in a slightly quieter corner. He appeared to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with chestnut hair that was a bit long, slightly covering his eyes and giving him an extremely languid look.

Since the start of the reception, his eyes had been boredly moving over the attendees, seemingly observing everyone yet not truly caring about anyone. Now, he was looking down, his phone's screen horizontal as his slender fingers glided across it.

During the second half of the reception, the beauties were no longer required to serve; thus, Jane confidently walked over and sat down on the sofa, keeping a not too close but not too far distance from the man. Without much intent, she pinched her right middle finger, where a fresh cut from glass was evident. A slight squeeze, and a string of blood beads rolled down, dropping onto her bright red gown—

Yes, a bright red gown. Jane didn't understand what the secretary, Xiao Cheng, by William Blake's side had in mind, having prepared such a vivid dress for her. Amidst a group of beauties in white, she was excessively conspicuous. Was Xiao Cheng trying to help her stand out, or was this an indirect way of putting her in her place?

However, it didn't matter. Regardless of what she was wearing, she possessed advantages that these short-sighted beauties lacked.

"Are you... contestant number 17, the one who had a pretty bad fall?"

Sure enough, the man beside her noticed her and asked with a voice that was also tinged with languor.

Jane pretended to be surprised and turned her head to look at him: "You... how did you know?"

The man put down his phone and pointed at the series of signatures on her arm: "I recognize this."

Jane knew he had seen Shayla's signature; that was exactly why she sat on his left side. However, she responded with a shy smile and a bit of embarrassment: "It was signed by a senior. She said it's less likely to be wiped off if it's on the arm. This way, many people at the reception would take care of me out of respect for her. Unfortunately... I messed it all up."

After saying this, she looked down sadly.

Listening to her, the man became quite interested and inquired: "Do you mean to say... you knew Shayla beforehand, but you accidentally made her lose face in front of everyone, so now she's angry and not even considering the friendship between disciples?"

"No, no, no... my senior has been very caring! It's all my own fault, I was too flustered..." Jane, startled, immediately looked up and began to hastily explain to the man.

However, the sight of her small face turning red and her near-tears expression instantly solidified the man's suspicions. He crossed his legs, leaned back comfortably against the sofa, and stretched lazily as he said, "Number 17, don't worry. Having provided me with such terrific breaking news, I won't make things difficult for you. On the contrary, I actually think quite highly of you."

As he spoke, he handed her a business card and then stood up and left.

Jane watched him leave the party, then glanced down at the business card in her hand —

Editor-in-Chief of "Scandal Sheet," Liam Thompson.

Without a change in expression, she pocketed the card and, when nobody was paying attention, discreetly tossed it into the trash can. Of course, Jane knew he was Liam Thompson, the Liam Thompson that stars and artists both loved and hated.

His writing was sharp, never catering to personal feelings, sparing no one - be it music industry giants or award-winning actors and actresses, he only cared about scandals. Although his personality was low-profile and he rarely made public appearances, almost no one at the event recognized him.

Yet, Jane recognized him. Firstly, she had been well-known in the fashion industry in her past life, and secondly, Liam Thompson had been her senior in college.

There was no time to mourn the pain of their unrecognized reunion. Jane steadied her emotions and suddenly began walking briskly towards William Blake, positioned at the very center of the party, looking visibly frightened…