Chapter 6: A Familiar Defeat

The lights were blinding, the murmurs of the audience a dull roar in Xu Lian's ears. She sat in the front row, her hands clenched in her lap, fingers digging into the silky fabric of her gown. The air was thick with anticipation, the final and most prestigious award of the night about to be announced.

Her name was called among the nominees, the camera panning to her face. Xu Lian didn't flinch, offering the perfect poised smile she had mastered over the years. She had done this before—sat in this exact seat, in this exact position, waiting for a result she already knew.

"And the winner for Best Actor of the Year is…"

The announcer's voice rang out across the grand hall. Xu Lian didn't realize she was holding her breath until she heard the next words.

"Lin Yiran!"

Applause erupted all around her, cheers echoing through the vast venue as Lin Yiran, dressed in a breathtaking gown, rose gracefully from her seat. The audience's reaction was overwhelming—adoration, admiration, and endless applause for China's reigning queen of the entertainment industry.

Xu Lian exhaled slowly, her hands relaxing only to ball up into fists once more. Five times. Five years in a row. Every time she had climbed the ranks, delivered breathtaking performances, pushed herself past her limits—only to fall short once again.

She forced herself to look up as Lin Yiran ascended the stage, accepting the golden trophy with that same practiced elegance. Xu Lian knew that expression all too well. It was poised, respectful, and utterly unreadable. But she knew better.

Lin Yiran was looking at her.

Through the claps, the flashing cameras, and the press documenting yet another triumph, Lin Yiran's eyes sought her out. They always did. It was never just about the award—it was about her.

As Lin Yiran took the microphone, Xu Lian braced herself.

"Thank you to the judges, my fellow nominees, and my incredible team for believing in me," Lin Yiran's voice rang clear, every syllable perfectly enunciated. "It is an honor to stand here tonight among such talented individuals, all of whom have pushed the boundaries of our craft."

A pause. Lin Yiran's grip on the trophy tightened just slightly, her gaze flickering downward before returning to the audience.

"And of course, I want to extend my deepest gratitude to someone very special. Someone who has challenged me, inspired me, and made me strive for greater heights every single year."

Xu Lian's jaw tightened.

"Xu Lian," Lin Yiran said, voice softer now. "I wouldn't be standing here without you."

The audience erupted into another round of applause, some members of the crowd shifting their attention to Xu Lian, eager to capture her reaction. The camera zoomed in, and she knew she couldn't afford to look anything but composed.

So she smiled, an unreadable curve of her lips, a nod of acknowledgment. The perfect actress, playing her role.

But deep down, something simmered.

As Lin Yiran stepped away from the microphone, descending the stage with the trophy in hand, Xu Lian exhaled, allowing the facade to crack just a little. The claps, the smiles, the flashing lights—it all blurred together into a haze of frustration, disappointment, and something else.

Something she refused to name.

A warm hand settled over hers, grounding her in the present. Xu Lian turned to see her mother, Xu Mei, offering her a gentle smile. There was no disappointment in her gaze, no trace of pity—only unwavering faith.

"You'll win the next one," Xu Mei whispered, squeezing her hand. "I know you will."

Xu Lian swallowed hard. For her mother, for herself—she had to.

The afterparty was in full swing, a dazzling display of glamour and excess. The venue was filled with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter from groups of actors, producers, and directors deep in discussion. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, alcohol, and the subtle electricity that came from being in the presence of the entertainment industry's biggest names.

Xu Lian sat at a table near the edge of the room, swirling the remnants of deep red wine in her glass. The expensive liquor had long since lost its burn, leaving only a numbness that she wasn't sure she welcomed or hated. Her gown, custom-designed for the night, still hugged her figure perfectly, but after hours of wear, it felt suffocating.

Across from her, Li Wen lounged in his seat, one arm resting on the back of his chair, the other holding a half-full glass of whiskey. He was effortlessly handsome, his sharp features illuminated by the dim golden lighting of the venue. He watched her with an amused smirk, eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and patience—he had seen this routine before.

"So, are you going to keep glaring at your drink all night, or should I prepare for another round of I hate Lin Yiran?" he drawled, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Xu Lian scoffed, lifting her glass to her lips and draining the rest of her wine in one go. She barely tasted it at this point. "I don't hate her," she muttered, though the sharpness in her tone made it sound unconvincing.

Li Wen raised an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me. You've been complaining about her since we sat down."

Xu Lian slammed her empty glass onto the table with a little more force than necessary. "Wouldn't you be frustrated if the same person kept beating you every single year?" Her fingers curled around the base of her glass, knuckles whitening. "It's like no matter how hard I work, how much I improve, it's never enough. She's always one step ahead."

Li Wen leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand as he regarded her with lazy amusement. "Mmm, yes. And yet, despite all your frustration, despite your dramatic declarations of 'I don't care about Lin Yiran,' you still watched her the entire night."

Xu Lian stiffened, her grip on the glass tightening. "I did not."

"You did," he countered smoothly. "The moment her name was called, you looked like you were going to murder someone. And when she went up on stage, you kept staring at her like she personally wronged you." He tilted his head. "Or like you were waiting for something."

Xu Lian bristled, reaching for the wine bottle on the table and pouring herself another glass. "I was not waiting for anything. And if I was looking at her, it was only because I was annoyed."

Li Wen chuckled. "Sure, sure. That's definitely why you've been drinking like you're trying to forget something."

Xu Lian shot him a glare before taking a sip. The alcohol had settled deep in her veins by now, making everything feel a little slower, a little warmer. But it didn't dull the familiar sting of defeat, nor did it erase the way Lin Yiran had looked at her on stage—like she had been silently speaking to her through the crowd.

She hated that look. That quiet acknowledgment, that unspoken connection neither of them could sever no matter how much time passed.

"She even had the audacity to thank me in her speech," Xu Lian muttered bitterly, setting her glass down with a sigh. "Like I should be honored that she considers me her greatest rival."

Li Wen hummed thoughtfully. "Well, aren't you?"

Xu Lian shot him a withering look. "No."

He grinned. "Liar."

She groaned, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her temples. "You're insufferable."

"And yet, I'm still your favorite drinking partner."

Xu Lian rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She and Li Wen had met a few years back when they starred in the same film. Unlike many of their peers, he had never tiptoed around her or treated her differently because of her rivalry with Lin Yiran. Instead, he found it amusing. And infuriating as he was, he was also one of the few people she could be completely honest with.

"I just don't get it," Xu Lian murmured, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. "No matter how much I try, it's like I can't escape her. She's everywhere—on set, on magazine covers, at every award ceremony. And every damn time, she wins."

Li Wen took another sip of his drink before replying, "You ever think maybe it's not just about winning?"

She frowned, looking at him skeptically. "What do you mean?"

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the way it caught the light. "You and Lin Yiran—you're not just rivals. You're a story. A legend in the industry. Two 'Heavenly Beauties' who constantly challenge each other, push each other to greater heights." He smirked. "People eat that up."

Xu Lian sighed. "Great. So now I'm just a character in some overhyped drama?"

He grinned. "More like the main character."

She let out a dry laugh. "Fantastic."

They sat in silence for a moment, the buzz of the party continuing around them. The weight of the night pressed down on Xu Lian's shoulders, exhaustion creeping in. But more than anything, there was that nagging, ever-present ache she couldn't shake.

She downed the last of her wine and set the glass aside. "Whatever. Let her have this one."

Li Wen gave her a knowing look. "You say that, but you're already planning how to win next time, aren't you?"

Xu Lian smirked, a glint of determination returning to her eyes. "Damn right I am."

Lin Yiran moved through the lavishly decorated ballroom, her every step deliberate, her expression composed. The afterparty was in full swing, the air heavy with the mingling scents of expensive perfume and aged wine. Laughter and conversation blended into a soft murmur around her, but she barely registered it. Her focus was singular.

She was looking for Xu Lian.

The weight of Huang Jian's presence beside her was both grounding and suffocating. He walked a step behind her, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd with practiced calculation. Lin Yiran knew what he was thinking—that she should be networking, smiling, ensuring her continued dominance in the industry. But that wasn't why she was here.

Xu Lian had disappeared almost immediately after the ceremony, and Lin Yiran had yet to see her. The moment her name had been called for Best Actress, she had felt it—an undeniable sting of disappointment. Not because she didn't want the award, but because she knew Xu Lian had wanted it more. And because she had seen the frustration flicker in those golden-brown eyes before Xu Lian had forced on a carefully neutral mask.

For eight years, it had been like this. The unspoken war between them. The lingering resentment. The undeniable pull.

"She's likely drinking herself into another tirade about you," Huang Jian commented dryly, voice low enough that only she could hear. "You should be enjoying your victory instead of chasing her."

Lin Yiran didn't respond. She wasn't in the mood to argue.

Huang Jian sighed when she remained silent. "Yiran, I understand your attachment, but you need to be careful. The public already sees you as competitors. Any interaction between you two is scrutinized. If you show too much interest—"

"I don't care," she cut in, her voice soft but firm.

Huang Jian studied her for a long moment before exhaling in resignation. "At least be discreet."

Lin Yiran hummed noncommittally and continued forward. She caught sight of Li Wen seated at a table, his signature easygoing grin visible even from across the room. And beside him—

There she was.

Xu Lian was half-turned away, her long dark hair cascading down her back, a nearly empty wine glass in her hand. Even in a dimly lit room, even after all these years, Lin Yiran could recognize her anywhere.

A slow breath escaped her lips, her fingers tightening briefly against the fabric of her dress. It was ridiculous, the way her heart still reacted to the mere sight of Xu Lian.

She hesitated.

What was she expecting to happen? That she'd walk over, and Xu Lian would suddenly drop the walls she had so meticulously built? That she'd look at her the way she used to when they were young? That she'd see something other than cold distance and bitterness?

Stupid.

But despite the rational voice in her head, Lin Yiran took a step forward.

Toward Xu Lian.

Toward the one person she had never been able to let go.