Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Whole Internet Watches in Anticipation

In front of Song Waning, he always wore a gentle smile, his facial expression relaxed. Thus, Song Waning had never witnessed how truly intimidating Wen Jingxing could be when his face was devoid of emotion. For instance, at this very moment, the staff following Wen Jingxing felt an inexplicable surge of pressure. How they wished Song Waning were nearby; whenever she was present, Wen Jingxing’s icy aura would soften. Now, though, it seemed his full force was unleashed.

Everyone speculated about Wen Jingxing’s mood, while Song Waning, the person Wen Jingxing had just mentioned, had returned to her work. Wen Jingxing could avoid discussing things now, but they had plenty of time; if he dodged it this time, what about tonight? He would surely come home to sleep, wouldn’t he?

As Song Waning pondered this, she suddenly realized—why did she care so much about Wen Jingxing’s opinion? Once she recognized this, she promptly swept all thoughts of him from her mind.

After dinner, the much-anticipated talent competition finally began. Previously, Li Weiwei’s live streams had been quite casual, but this time, things were more official: all major platform accounts had announced the pre-broadcast, and the start time was set for 6:30 tonight.

Li Weiwei opted for a full live broadcast, capturing the guests from multiple angles to achieve the best effect. Seeing the scale of the event, Song Waning felt that if not for the limited participants, Li Weiwei could easily have staged a full concert.

Most interestingly, Li Weiwei herself announced that the talent competition could be watched live, with free seating. Some guests at the resort were thrilled.

[This is amazing—I can just walk over tonight.]
[Wait, is it still possible to get to the mountain village in time?]
[I thought you had to buy tickets; it’s not like you can just walk in.]
[I rarely see directors this generous—turns out she’s boosting business for her own family.]
[Being able to watch live is already fantastic. Previously, when I encountered them, I usually had to go out of my way; there was no chance to get close to the guests.]
[Looks like there’s a huge crowd at the venue.]
[I really want to go in and watch.]
[It’s started!]
...

As always, the order of the competition was decided by drawing lots before the game began.

Usually, in partner groups, the men were considerate and let the women draw first. But when it came to Shen Yue’s group, the dynamic shifted dramatically.

Jiang Mingzhao strode forward to draw, while Shen Yue protested from behind, “Why can’t you let me go first?”

“There’s nothing special about who goes first—it’s just a matter of whose legs are longer,” Jiang Mingzhao replied.

He was indeed much taller than Shen Yue. Standing beside him, she barely reached his chest.

In the end, Jiang Mingzhao drew first and had exceptionally good luck, pulling the last slot. Shen Yue, still simmering with annoyance, reached out and grabbed a slip at random, only to find she’d drawn the first slot!

Her mood instantly collapsed.

“I told you to draw for me! You got the last spot, I got the first!”

Everyone knew that in talent shows, the later you perform, the better—by the end, people barely remember the earlier acts, having just been wowed by the latest performances.

Jiang Mingzhao shrugged indifferently. “With so many slots, you could have drawn any. But you happened to get the first—what does that say? Don’t blame others for your own bad luck.”

After the order was determined, Shen Yue was first, Jian Anan second, Jin Jianyi third, Nan Yan’s group fourth, Song Waning’s group fifth, and Jiang Mingzhao would perform last.

First up, Shen Yue’s expression was sour, still annoyed from her argument with Jiang Mingzhao backstage.

[Hmm, her expression looks odd.]
[Odd? She’s just annoyed.]
[It’s just a competition—why is she so unhappy? Is she unwilling to perform for us? Then why participate at all?]

Noticing the strange atmosphere, Shen Yue glanced at the big screen behind her and suddenly realized her own expression. She quickly composed herself. Yet, this distraction caused her to miss the melody’s cue—she didn’t even realize it was time to start singing.

The audience exchanged awkward glances.

Shen Yue wasn’t much of a singer—she was just being pushed onto the stage. Only when she saw the staff frantically signaling below did she realize it was time to begin.

She started late, missing the melody, and the lyrics didn’t match. She paused, restarted, and stumbled through the song. Throughout her performance, mishaps kept coming: her pitch was off, she couldn’t hit the high notes, nor reach the low ones. Her voice was bland and lifeless, like water.

When the song ended, applause from the audience was scattered and weak.

The live chat was full of spectators.

[That smile wiped out all my good karma.]
[I expected her singing to be bad, but I didn’t imagine it could be this awful. Ahaha, I’m dying of laughter.]
[This is exactly how I am at karaoke—confident on the mic, embarrassed when leaving.]
[She’s sung enough, no need for more. Hurry, next performer, please.]
...

Even Shen Yue, whose skin was usually thick, felt embarrassed for once. She clutched the microphone and jogged off stage.

The next performer was Jian Anan. Seeing her approach, the audience perked up once more.

[Finally, someone who can actually sing.]
[No more ear torture—what a delight!]
[Anan! Anan! I love you! Will you marry me?]
[Ah! Anan’s voice is like a lark, isn’t it?!]
[Jian Anan, even if your face changed, I’d still be your fan!]

Jian Anan was clever enough to know her limits—she couldn’t reach high notes, so she chose a song with a comfortable range and a catchy melody, a trending hit that instantly energized the crowd.

Some audience members even sang along with her.

In the audience, Song Waning rested her hands behind her head, sinking comfortably into the sofa chair. She was enjoying Jian Anan’s singing; the woman truly had talent, and her popularity wasn’t just manufactured.

Wen Jingxing, meanwhile, seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed on Song Waning.

Noticing this, Song Waning asked, “Why are you looking at me?”

“Nothing.”

“Have you memorized your lines?”

“I’m almost there.”

“Recite them for me.”

Wen Jingxing did start reciting, and Song Waning could see his lips moving, but she couldn’t hear a word. “Come closer, I can’t hear you.”

On stage, Jian Anan was pouring her heart into her performance. When she glanced down at the audience, she saw this scene.

Perfect—on the very first day on the shelf, I feel like I’m doomed. Haha… (╥﹏╥)

(The end of this chapter)