First Entering the Program
It was an utterly ordinary day.
The sky was overcast; heavy clouds hid the sun, and a pale gray mist hung softly over the city.
Spring had already arrived, but winter’s lingering chill still hadn’t quite gone.
A building that was a stepping stone to stardom stood quietly in one corner of the city. In the first-floor lobby, a huge promotional poster for the program had been propped up; flashy lettering and a pink background made the four characters of Star Brilliance stand out all the more.
A vehicle rolled up with a muffled hum and came to an abrupt stop by the roadside, kicking up a thin cloud of dust.
A moment later, the door opened, and the chatter of voices broke the morning silence.
The contestants got off the bus in twos and threes; a group of girls dressed in all kinds of styles blew on their hands and rubbed them together as they walked toward the building. Some wore short skirts with bare legs, while others were still wrapped in thick padded coats.
Yu Mao was one of the girls in a skirt.
She didn’t seem to feel the cold. Even the girls wearing short skirts at least had their upper bodies covered.
She, however, wore an oversized sugary-pink summer T-shirt with five-point sleeves. The hem fell below her hips, revealing the edge of a white lace skirt, and it didn’t even cover her knees.
The other girls kept glancing at her now and then, their expressions tinged with amazement.
A girl with braided hair and a down jacket came over, breathing out white puffs of air as she asked, “Aren’t you cold?”
But Yu Mao didn’t answer. She kept looking straight ahead and walking. Two seconds later, she stopped abruptly, turned back a little sluggishly, removed one side of her Bluetooth earbud, and looked at the girl.
“Were you talking to me?”
Her voice was faintly cool, like jade in water; very soft, like the thin mist of dawn in the woods, delicate, distant, and gone with the slightest sweep.
She looked at the girl with calm, untroubled eyes; her pupils were unfocused, the black of them strangely deep.
“Uh...” Zhao Shengxiao took half a step back, her expression stiffening for a moment as her heart gave an inexplicable thump. She laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. I was asking if you were cold wearing so little.”
Yu Mao blinked, let out a breath of white vapor, and said slowly, “Pretty cold.”
Zhao Shengxiao was left speechless, the corners of her mouth twitching as she barely managed to swallow her complaint.
Perhaps sensing the other girl’s goodwill, Yu Mao held her in place and, after a moment of hesitation, took a step closer to her and asked in a low voice, “Do you think... this outfit is cute?”
As soon as she moved closer, Zhao Shengxiao suddenly felt a jolt of alarm. She waved her hands and backed up two steps in a row. “Sorry, sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry. Ask someone else!”
Then she turned around and ran around Yu Mao.
“...”
Yu Mao froze. Standing there, she let out a faint sigh, her expression barely changing.
“Failed.”
Then she turned and continued toward the building.
She had already fallen to the very back.
By the time she entered the building, the others had already arrived and were standing in three rows in the front hall.
Yu Mao walked over silently and took a spot in the back row, standing in a corner with almost no presence at all.
At the front stood the program mentor, a young rising female singer named Zhang Ling. She had once won a talent show and was technically very strong.
Perhaps the production team thought a young woman would have more in common with a group of girls like them and wouldn’t make them as nervous.
Once everyone was there, Zhang Ling was about to begin her speech and read out the rules, but when she noticed Yu Mao, who had entered last, standing in the back row, she paused and instead waved her over.
“That girl, come stand in the front.”
Eyes from all around turned toward her. Yu Mao said nothing and took a few steps forward to stand in the front row.
It couldn’t really be blamed on the mentor for interfering; Yu Mao was simply too short. Standing in the back row, she was blocked completely, with only the top of her head showing.
Only then did Zhang Ling look satisfied. She picked up the cue cards and started explaining the rules.
This was a girls’ music show, though its competitive side was weaker than a proper singing competition and it carried more of a reality-show flavor.
There were sixty contestants in total, divided into two categories: one group had never taken part in any talent show before, while the other consisted of musicians who already had some fan base but were either not popular or had already fallen out of favor.
The two groups were split evenly; their group was the novice batch, generally younger, with no one older than twenty-three.
“First of all, welcome to Star Brilliance!” Zhang Ling said with a smile, clapping her hands.
Everyone immediately started applauding in unison, energized and excited, though nervousness made some of that excitement a little frantic.
Yu Mao clapped half a beat late, her face expressionless.
“This is a place full of opportunities and challenges. Although you’re all newcomers and lack some of the experience those ‘old hands’ in the other group have, the fact that you made it here through the audition round proves that each and every one of you has your own unique talent and charm.
“Alright, enough of that. I’ll now read out the competition rules...”
The contestants had to be ranked in the initial stage, with scores given by five mentors; the maximum was five hundred. Anyone scoring above 475 could enter the highest A class.
Scores of 450 and above entered B class, 400 and above entered C class, 375 and above entered D class, and everyone below 375 would be assigned to the worst E class.
These initial-stage scores were directly tied to the performance opportunities for their first public stage. A-class contestants would each have an entire stage to themselves and could choose their own song.
B-class contestants could also perform solo, but their time was limited to two minutes, and their song choices were restricted to their own original works and the playlist provided by the program.
As for C- and D-class contestants, they would only have collaborative stages, with at least two people per group. E class was the same, but their stage time would also be limited. If they were left without a partner and couldn’t form a group, their performance time would be cut down to one and a half minutes. In addition, they could only choose original songs and songs from the playlist provided by the program.
The rules were harsh; one could say the initial stage would determine how smoothly they could develop from here on out, and it was extremely important.
The atmosphere, which had only moments ago been fairly relaxed, immediately turned serious, and most of the girls showed obvious signs of tension.
Zhang Ling handed out the name badges.
“The other group got here a little earlier than you did. They’re already over there, so go join them.”
The others still wanted to chat a little more with the mentor and hadn’t even finished breaking formation, but Yu Mao had already lifted a foot and left, following the sign’s directions to find the next area.
She was moving much faster than when she had come.
Zhang Ling glanced at her, frowned slightly, and felt somewhat dissatisfied. She thought to herself that this girl either had terrible social skills or simply looked down on everyone.
The program used a live-stream format; later, the best parts would also be edited into a recorded version. Once they entered the competition venue, everyone would be exposed to countless cameras.
Technology had advanced rapidly these days, and small flying cameras had replaced human cameramen; they were lightweight, high-definition, and cheap.
The production team had bought a batch to make sure each contestant would have one camera following them in real time, while several more would be set up to capture the full stage.
A textbook case of caring only about the audience’s enjoyment and not the contestants’ survival.
Yu Mao didn’t care about any of that. She only wanted to see that person as soon as possible, and she entered the venue without the slightest hesitation.
A spare flying camera instantly swept over and came face-to-face with her.
Yu Mao’s scalp went numb. She sprang backward violently, the movement so quick it was almost a launch; her back hit the wall hard, and the icy temperature seeped through the thin fabric and spread across her back.
She didn’t move. Her body stayed locked in an instinctive defensive posture.
Her face was blank, but she kept staring fixedly at the spherical camera that had moved close again. Her dark eyes reflected in the single lens, and her pupils contracted ever so slightly, a detail captured clearly.
That obvious reaction drew everyone’s attention.
“Wow! Little sister’s got skills!”
At the venue, only the other group of contestants had arrived ahead of them. The speaker was a rapper named Deng Cheng.
She wore a black-and-red floral shirt, her hair tied into little dreadlocks. She was tall, broad-shouldered, and dark-skinned, with a strong build and a loud, full voice; she looked energetic and full of life.
She had a bit of online fame, and she was the type to speak bluntly, with the air of someone a little lacking in common sense.
“What happened? Did the camera scare her?” another original musician, Chen You, asked in confusion.
When she had heard the commotion and looked over just now, Yu Mao had already been pressed against the wall.
She voiced the question that most of the people there were thinking.
Yu Mao didn’t answer. She relaxed her body and took half a step forward, bringing the tip of her nose almost against the camera.
She didn’t blink; her eyes were black and empty, carrying a kind of inorganic indifference.
“Please keep your distance.”
The red light at the center of the camera flickered, then flashed green as it swept across her eyes. A mechanical voice sounded:
“Ding! Temporary identity binding successful! Miss Yu Mao, hello. Small Flying Hero camera No. 026 is at your service.”
It backed away a short distance, keeping an appropriate distance from the subject being filmed.
Yu Mao pressed her lips together, lowered her eyes, and said in a slightly lower voice, “I’m not okay.”
Her attempt to make a perfect first impression had failed.
Seeing that she still wasn’t responding, Deng Cheng had already started answering everyone else’s questions, vividly describing how Yu Mao had been startled into jumping just now.
She even demonstrated it herself, though it wasn’t very convincing. After giving up, she kept rambling:
“Oh man, this is so hard. This little sister is way too impressive—she’s not a dancer, is she? Her movements are really fast, like a rabbit; she just shot up in a flash.”
Yu Mao’s gaze turned even more resentful.
She lifted her head and swept her eyes across the people in the venue seats. A few sharp-eyed ones noticed her expression and laughed awkwardly as they tried to pull Deng Cheng back and tell her to shut up.
“Alright, alright, why are you getting so worked up over something this small?”
Of course no one thought this was a big deal. It should even have been something funny; but Yu Mao looked far too serious, so they figured the little girl must care a lot about appearances and didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the cameras.
Deng Cheng still hadn’t caught on, but she thought the other girl had a point and gave up on dwelling on it.
She looked at Yu Mao again, then noticed her clothes and seemed about to say something else. Just then, the other contestants started arriving one after another.
Everyone’s attention was drawn away, and Yu Mao, who had remained silent the entire time, was no longer being noticed.
She slowly made her way toward the seats.
The venue seats were arranged like a movie theater, rising in tiers from bottom to top, with no numbers or nameplates. Everyone could sit wherever they wanted.
The overall color scheme of the venue was pale blue, decorated in a somewhat futuristic style; several small flying cameras hovered overhead, and the round stage sat right in the center. The contestants’ seats were on the right, while the mentors’ seats were on the left.
On the second-to-last row, farthest to the left, a woman sat quietly with a notebook in her hands, flipping through it.
A black tailored suit with sharp lines; short black hair, smooth and neat, hung just above her shoulders. Her head was slightly lowered, and the contours of her brows and features were deep and defined, carrying a trace of cold, foreign sharpness that made people reluctant to approach her easily.
Changgeng, Nan Changgeng.
Yu Mao raised her head, her eyes widening, her pupils dilating slightly; they shone with startling brightness.
Her breathing turned unsteady.
Her heart slammed hard in her chest, as though a bird trapped in a cage were battering wildly at the bars and dragging the cage along with it.
Amid the unbearable tremor, she took a step upward. A gear inside her seemed to start turning, grinding over every stair.
Creak, creak; it sounded as if it hadn’t been oiled.