When everyone was praising her, it seemed that only Benjamin Clark never gave her any special treatment, still cold and impartial, occasionally giving her a strange smile. Every time she finished participating in some activity, Benjamin Clark would always call her for a private talk, telling her not to slouch, not to speak too fast, not to touch her nose or brush her bangs when she got stuck, and not to blink too frequently...

For every point she mentioned, Fiona James would nod and obediently correct herself.

The greatest joy was not becoming a famous child star. It was that one day, Mr. Clark casually said, "Not bad, you actually listen, you’ve changed, and you’re not arrogant."

She was elated the whole day.

Sometimes she also faced criticism, hearing other parents and children say she wasn’t that capable, because “it was all through connections.”

She got into the TV station through connections, got into the affiliated elementary school through connections, became squad leader through connections...

She felt wronged and wanted to argue that she did it all on her own—but then she thought, being able to have connections wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it was kind of an honor, so she might as well let them keep misunderstanding.

Jealousy, it was all jealousy. Fiona James straightened her back, imitating her mother.

She gradually grew up and gradually experienced the happiness that fame brought her. Compared to the audience who disappeared after the show, the admiration and attention from her classmates were real, tangible, always surrounding her. Fiona James kept her father’s teachings in mind: don’t be arrogant or impatient, don’t bully others with your status. In fact, she went too far, becoming a bit of a pushover. She used a “it’s no big deal”

humble tone to talk about interesting things that happened at the TV station, being called out in the middle of class by the team counselor to assign activities under the gaze of her classmates, being loved and talked about by everyone.

Yet as she grew up, Fiona James rarely looked back on this beautiful time.

Because she knew the ending. Just like watching a movie—if the audience sees the protagonist at their peak halfway through, they know that by two-thirds in, this person is about to have a big fall, a setup for the twist at the end.

Fiona James couldn’t look back; that happiness was crushed by what came after.

Time is like the two sides of a contract—if she wanted to avoid the pain, she had to throw away the happiness first.

“By the way, the senior from our school who got into Fudan last year is coming back to give a talk in the auditorium. Are you going to listen? This Saturday.”

Quincy Sherman had, at some point, finished scolding her cousin and moved on to the next topic.

Fiona James extra: “I really didn’t expect anyone from our school to get into Fudan.” Fiona James sighed.

“What’s so unexpected? Even at a top school like Zhenhua, there are students who only get into third-tier local colleges. Nobles and kings, are they born different?” Quincy Sherman lifted her chin, looking just like her little cousin.

Fiona James suddenly froze.

At her elementary school graduation, during the final ceremony, she hugged her classmate Zoe Young backstage to say goodbye.

Neither of them got into the affiliated middle school or No. 8 Middle School, the good schools—they were sent back to their original schools, or rather, back to their original selves.

She said to her, a bit regretfully, it’s a pity you’re not going to the affiliated middle school.

Zoe Young was such a smart and dazzling girl.

Always full of ideas, Zoe Young looked at her and shook her head: “What’s there to pity?”

She would always remember the bright eyes of the girl in front of her, as if there were two eager flames inside, filled with a hope she couldn’t understand.

“It’s not like only students from the affiliated middle school can be successful, what’s the big deal?”

Fiona James felt a bit lost, but then patted her on the shoulder and said, “I believe in you.”

The little swallow had already folded her wings and settled down, but there were still others who hadn’t given up on their dreams of flying. She regretted that she hadn’t even had a chance to burn with passion before she’d already experienced a cycle of the world’s indifference.

Fiona James’s childhood was really a bit too harsh.

She still remembered, in her most triumphant years, sitting backstage at the provincial exhibition hall with Zoe Young, waiting to go on stage to speak on behalf of all the Young Pioneers in the province. That girl suddenly asked her, Fiona James, when you grow up, what do you want to do?

She asked a question no one had ever asked her.

People usually skipped the asking part and just smiled, saying, when the little swallow grows up, she’ll definitely get into CCTV, become a big star, and perform at the Spring Festival Gala!

Just like Mr. Clark said, great prospects.

Fiona James herself had thought about it too—after all, she was a child, with a bit of hidden pride and a vanity she never showed. She liked taking photos with famous comedians and singers from the province, liked it when the high-ranking leaders, who seemed so lofty to others, shook her hand kindly. As for other so-called dreams, she hadn’t really thought about them.

She gradually grew up, her reach gradually extending across the country. The Youth Foundation, the National Youth Federation... she held titles like secretary-general in these organizations she didn’t really know the purpose of—of course, there were many secretary-generals.

It turned out there were many children in China just like her. Sam Zack was an orphan, working to support himself, and was a model Young Pioneer who moved the whole country; Larry Lewis came from a wealthy, prestigious family and had once shared a stage with the US ambassador; William Warren had acted in six or seven movies and won the “Best Newcomer Award.”

She really wasn’t anything special.

A frog in a well, dreaming too big is a sin.

From then on, whenever others praised her as a future star, she would lower her head deeply.

This time, she was truly being humble.

So when Zoe Young asked, Fiona James racked her brains but couldn’t find an answer.

How far-sighted can a child be?

Yet Fiona James saw through the dazzling fog in front of her from that one question.

She began to worry—how long could this light last?

Not long at all.

“Little Red Riding Hood” was revamped. All three hosts had grown too old. Overnight, she broke out in pimples, and since she had already developed early and was a bit plump, it was even harder to keep up the cute image. Child stars needed to be chubby and innocent, but teenage girls had to be delicate and slim. There was no time left for Fiona James to transition.

Fiona James took an eraser and tried hard to wipe away all traces of this period from her memory. She was so kind and humble, yet her classmates still seized every chance to gloat, as if each of them was finally vindicated and happy.

The teachers turned on her faster than flipping a page, all suddenly becoming far-sighted strategists: “I told you long ago this wouldn’t work out for you.” —Were all those words about her bright future just nonsense?

But what she couldn’t accept most was her own mother’s change.

She never heard “our Yan Yan...” again. The way her mother looked at her was as if Fiona James extra had always just been a useless child.

“Just like your dad, you’re all the same in the old Zhan family!”

She endured everything as obediently as she had when she was little, just as she had endured the heavy opportunities fate had thrown at her, without saying a word. Just because she hadn’t thought of something didn’t mean she’d forgotten.

The last stroke of that memory, no matter how hard she tried to erase it, remained as clear as yesterday.

She sat in the small theater, Benjamin Clark was coaching a few young hosts on their lines. The next day was the annual performance at the Children’s Palace, the main event. Fiona James, at her mother’s request, came to ask Mr. Clark if she could help her get into the affiliated middle school—“Just like she got you into the affiliated elementary school back then, a special admission, your teacher should help you out for old times’ sake!”

Actually, her mother knew it was impossible. She didn’t show up, afraid Benjamin Clark would ask her for a favor.

So only Fiona James sat in the last row. Benjamin Clark ignored her, only telling her to find a place to wait, she was busy right now.

She smiled as she looked at the children around her, each with a face that said “I’m the most important,” heads held high, proudly walking in the “arts circle.”

It seemed that if they just looked up, they could see the dazzling light ahead.

Fiona James smiled and smiled, and then tears slid down her cheeks, hot.

The theater was a bit cold. She didn’t know how long she sat there. Finally, as fewer and fewer actors were left rehearsing, Benjamin Clark started bending over to tidy up props on stage, getting ready to leave.

“Teacher.”

She walked up and called softly. No one on the noisy stage noticed this faded child star.

Benjamin Clark turned around, still with that cold face.

This person had once casually said to her in a cold voice, “Let’s just call you Little Swallow.”

Now, this borrowed name would finally have to be returned to her.

“What do you want?”

Fiona James was very calm and shook her head.

“Nothing, nothing at all. Teacher, I just wanted to say goodbye.”