She seemed a little hesitant, but finally gave a sincere suggestion: "You just said you'd sleep on the floor; I think that's not great. Ms. Chapman has trouble sleeping, and she wouldn't want you sleeping on the floor either. Oh, you can sleep on the couch in the living room—that's still better than the floor."
Zara Chapman stared directly at Wendy, not saying a word, but her gaze made the implication unmistakably clear.
Wendy wanted to refuse, but she'd already said she'd sleep on the floor if needed, and now she didn't want the sofa? Wouldn't that look like she was contradicting herself?
Wendy clenched her teeth with frustration, but didn't dare linger and responded immediately: "I know Ms. Chapman has trouble sleeping. I was going to sleep on the sofa anyway, to let her have a good night's rest."
She smiled brightly as she helped Zara carry her luggage into the room.
Zara had quite a lot of luggage, both big and small bags, her hands completely full.
Her movements looked strenuous, but she still had a carefree air about her—like she knew the production team would definitely give her a close-up.
After all, when she joined the show, her agency and the production crew had already reached an agreement—they'd help her build up her persona.
Her persona was that of the little sun: truly kind, truly beautiful, shining on everyone, warming everyone.
The agency said this persona was hard to establish, but once it stuck, she'd explode in popularity.
To build up this persona, it wasn't enough to just follow the script; she'd need to find a new actress in the industry with similar conditions to act as a foil—a seesaw. Renee Morgan was the perfect candidate.
Wendy came prepared, utterly unflustered.
After putting the luggage away, she headed to the living room to make coffee in the tea nook.
One pot of coffee could pour four small cups, just enough for everyone to have one.
Wendy took Zara's cup first into the bedroom, making sure the cameras caught everything, then brought the other two cups and knocked on Renee's and Lynn's doors.
Lynn opened the door, looking puzzled: "What's up?"
Wendy, holding coffee, smiled slightly: "Mind if I come in and sit for a bit?"
Lynn looked at the coffee in her hands, then glanced at the camera behind her, nodded, and stepped aside to let her in.
Wendy walked in, coffee in hand.
Renee, having finished unpacking, had just showered. She was now in loungewear, her long hair over her shoulders, looking lovely and delicate, sitting on the room's rocker.
When Wendy saw Renee's face, there was a brief twist of jealousy inside her—her smile almost faltered.
She set the two cups of coffee on the table, one for each person.
Wendy's smile was warm: "Ms. Miller, Renee, try it out—it's coffee I made myself. The beans are top-grade civet coffee. Not sure if you guys will like the flavor?"
Lynn, always straightforward, saw Wendy's thoughtfulness and immediately grabbed her cup, guzzled it down, her eyes lighting up as she looked at Renee: "Hey, this coffee's really good, Morgan, try it! Smells so nice."
Renee was wary of Wendy's intentions, but not drinking would look bad, so she could only pick up the cup, first taking a deep breath to smell the aroma, and smiled: "It really does smell good."
Her gaze was discreetly watching the changes on Wendy's face.
In the dream, she'd had an allergic reaction the moment she joined the production crew—her whole body swollen and red, with mild asthma attacks making her stop shooting and rest for treatment.
Wendy smiled, her face open and radiant.
Renee couldn't tell for now if there was something wrong with the coffee, but that didn't stop her from digging a pit for Wendy; if the coffee was problematic, it'd show itself soon.
After saying it smelled great, Renee put on a bitter, apologetic face: "Such fragrant coffee, but it's a pity—I can't drink it…"
She began to set the coffee aside.
But Wendy couldn't help raising her voice: "Why can't you drink it? Renee, is it that you don't want to try my coffee, or is it because I spoke up for Ms. Chapman earlier and you're holding a grudge?"
Renee looked at her in surprise: "What makes you think that? I just really can't drink it, otherwise I'll probably have insomnia tonight. We have to film the show tomorrow…"
"What are you worried about? My coffee isn't like the stuff outside—it's not low-quality; it's premium civet coffee." Wendy said, displeased.
She was getting desperate; always so scheming, yet at this moment she only wanted Renee to drink the coffee.
Only if Renee couldn't film tomorrow would she have her big shot at popularity.
Otherwise, just having that face around made it hard for Wendy to get any attention.
By now, the screen was flooded—the live chat split into two camps.
The netizens who thought Wendy was aggressive: [Aldridge Girl cooking civet coffee? She should've just played the innocent act—she's so fake, since she's so passive-aggressive, still forcing Morgan to drink coffee. Morgan said coffee causes insomnia, did she not hear?]
The netizens who thought Renee was acting fragile and fake: [Coffee is energizing, but a few sips won't hurt. Looks to me like she just doesn't want to drink Wendy's coffee. I say Wendy's too kind—she went out of her way to make coffee and still gets criticized. If it were me, screw it, I'd pour it right in her face, wake her up right there.]
Some neutral viewers chimed in: [Whoa, now—let's not get extreme. Some people really can't drink caffeinated stuff at night, otherwise they'll be up all night. Everyone in my family likes kung fu tea except grandma; she says one cup and she won't sleep at all, so she never drinks it.]
Many viewers chimed in agreement.
"..."
Renee could basically confirm now that there was something wrong with this cup of coffee.
She remembered the dream, but there hadn't been anything about Wendy making coffee. She'd still had an allergic reaction, so maybe Wendy used a different trick. Either way, Wendy would never give up unless she drank it. It'd be safer to drink the coffee right in front of her, to put her at ease.
Renee kept her polite smile: "Top-grade civet coffee, and it's Wendy's handiwork—even at the risk of insomnia, I've got to give it a try."
Wendy relaxed, and to everyone else it looked like she was happy to see her guest drinking the coffee she'd gone to the trouble of making.
Renee quickly drank up the coffee, smiling: "It's so fragrant—Wendy, you're really talented."
Wendy was a master of public gestures; seeing Renee drink it all, she reached to take the cup: "Coach Miller, Renee, get some rest—we have to head to the base tomorrow. Give me the cups."
After exchanging goodnights, Wendy took the two empty cups outside. On camera, she washed them clean, her face always beaming, her image sunny and sweet.
The livestream moved plenty of viewers—who wouldn't love a girl who works quietly and warms others with her sunny presence?
Just half a day on air, Wendy had already gained a bunch of fans and earned the nickname "Sweet Girl."
After Renee returned to the apartment yesterday, she'd gone to the hospital and prepared allergy medications in advance. She wasn't sure how effective the preventive meds would be, so after Wendy left the room, Renee immediately went into the bathroom, turned on all the taps, held her throat over the toilet, and forced herself to vomit up all the coffee she'd just drank.