It seems the domestic entertainment industry is on the verge of collapse!

Whether online or at the live venue, the atmosphere erupted into an uproar—even the host appeared somewhat taken aback. The show’s producer, however, could barely contain his delight; excellent, excellent, the controversy had started before the main topic even began.

Du Shao, upon observing the producer’s expression, immediately knew how to play along. With a teasing tone, he asked Ji Fanxing, “Ji Fanxing, how does it feel to be sitting in the king’s seat?”

Ji Fanxing sat with effortless grace, showing not the slightest sign of stage fright. “It feels wonderful,” she replied.

Her air of self-importance infuriated the audience.

[Is she really putting on such a show?!]
[She actually says it feels wonderful? Shameless!]
[I used to think she was good-looking, but the more I see, the less I like her. She’s so pretentious!]

The host, ever eager to stir the pot, turned to Ji Shengxue. “As her elder sister, do you have anything you’d like to say to your sister at this moment?”

Ji Shengxue rose, accepted the microphone, and her response stood in stark contrast to Ji Fanxing’s, coming across as genuinely poised. She offered a slightly apologetic smile. “My sister probably didn’t notice the seating arrangement rules.” She paused, then beckoned toward Ji Fanxing, “Fanxing, come down here, won’t you? There’s still a seat next to me in this row.”

[Oh no, Shengxue is giving Ji Fanxing an easy way out.]
[She’s just too good, that’s why her ungrateful sister takes advantage of her!]

Host Du Shao arched his brow and, following Ji Shengxue’s lead, gestured at Ji Fanxing as well. “Did you hear that? Your sister’s calling for you—come on over!”

Ji Fanxing glanced at Ji Shengxue, then swept her gaze across the vacant seat in the front row, squeezed into a corner with barely any camera coverage. Her expression flickered with amusement.

Draped in red and white gowns respectively, Ji Fanxing and Ji Shengxue locked eyes, the unspoken tension between them making the air in the studio feel almost stifling.

Ji Fanxing finally curled her lips into a faint smile, gazing down at Ji Shengxue. Unhurriedly, she refused, “No, elder sister.”

Then she declared to the room, “I’m quite comfortable here. I have no intention of moving. Anyone is welcome to challenge me.”

A trace of surprise flashed in Ji Shengxue’s eyes, but she quickly composed herself. After a moment, she nodded, wearing an expression of helplessness. “As you wish, little sister. As long as you’re happy.”

Saying nothing more, she returned the microphone and sat back down, elegant and unruffled.

Ji Fanxing, meanwhile, crossed her long legs, her pale, slender fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of the throne-like chair, her eyes half-closed and her expression serene.

To her—a creature who had lived an untold number of years on Earth—what spectacle hadn’t she witnessed before? The so-called throne that intimidated the contestants was, to her, nothing more than a slightly roomier seat.

…

[My goodness, she’s really doing it?!]
[Almost had me fooled, damn!]
[Where did this villainous woman come from? She acts like her sister doesn’t even exist.]
[I’m now convinced it was this woman who harmed Shengxue. With an attitude this arrogant, how could she tolerate her sister’s presence?]

“Wow—” The experienced Du Shao gave Ji Fanxing a thumbs-up, exclaiming in an exaggerated fashion before resuming the official proceedings. “As everyone has seen, our king has been crowned! But can she hold onto her throne? Let’s wait and see!”

“And now, let’s welcome our contestants to the stage to showcase their talents!”

[Wow! The show is moving so quickly, we’re already at the first performance segment.]
[haha, I just love when a show jumps straight to the main course.]

With eighty-eight contestants each needing to perform, it was bound to be a long stretch. The first to take the stage were a few relatively unknown contestants. Since it was the opening, everyone was still focused on the performances, Ji Fanxing included; she watched the stage with keen attention.

Despite having memories from her past life, she certainly didn’t recall every detail of each contestant’s initial performance—remembering such things would be a waste of brainpower.

After watching several acts, and waiting patiently for a few of the more recognized contestants to finish, her expression grew impassive as she leaned back against her seat once more.

Was that all? Was that really all?

As expected, distant memories always tend to embellish things. She’d actually held out some hope for their performances just moments before.

If most of the contestants present were at this level, calling it a landslide would be an insult to her. It even struck her that a couple of the performers had been ranked among the top new generation singers online.

Ah...

Ji Fanxing couldn’t help but think with some exasperation, the local entertainment industry must really be on its last legs!

So, for the subsequent performances, Ji Fanxing’s expression remained lackluster; her eyelids drooped and she stared off in boredom.

Her air of indifference was captured clearly by the cameras, naturally sparking a wave of criticism from viewers flooding the live comments:

[What’s with Ji Fanxing’s expression? So arrogant!]
[She looks like she’s about to fall asleep. So unprofessional!]
[Does she think she’s that talented? Let’s see how she does when it’s her turn on stage!]
[Well, this is… hard to judge. Good luck to her, I suppose.]

Even some contestants on site, upon noticing Ji Fanxing’s attitude, felt disgruntled.

Naturally, they didn’t believe her indifference stemmed from genuine talent—they assumed, as with her earlier stunt of sitting in the king’s seat, that she was merely trying to attract attention in front of the cameras once again.

…

A curious onlooker glanced at Ji Fanxing and, unable to hold back, blurted to Ji Shengxue, “Shengxue, was it really Ji Fanxing who hurt your leg?”

No sooner had the words left their mouth than they regretted it, but seeing everyone around them perk up and even the cameras silently shift in their direction, they realized they’d struck a nerve.

Ji Shengxue didn’t respond, but Song Qing, seated beside her, spoke up. “It was my fault really, for letting someone film that video... Fanxing didn’t mean to, so please don’t blame her.”

It was no secret that Song Qing had once been Ji Shengxue’s assistant.

Some in the audience shot surreptitious glances toward Ji Fanxing seated above, their eyes wary, whispering amongst themselves:

“Sigh, Shengxue really is too kind. If it were me, I’d have called her out long ago!”

“Just look at Ji Fanxing’s behavior today—she’s exactly the type to do something like that!”

Everyone seemed to take Ji Shengxue’s side, though she remained seated, her posture dignified. At last, she gave a gentle shake of her head, smiling politely as she quietly put an end to the discussion. “Let’s leave the past in the past. The next performer is from Starwind Entertainment—don’t miss the show.”

At the mention of “Starwind Entertainment,” any contestant with even a bit of industry awareness immediately stopped chatting and turned their full attention to the stage. After all, it was one of the top four entertainment companies in the industry, and as competitors, they were naturally curious and wary of the artist Starwind had sent to participate.

The live comments were filled with viewers who found themselves drawn in by Ji Shengxue’s composure.

[I suddenly understand Ji Shengxue’s charm! This is the true poise of an eldest daughter...]
[There’s the proof—stop claiming the video was just about camera angles. Ji Fanxing is simply in the wrong.]
[What does she want? Is she really so jealous of her more talented older sister? It’s terrifying.]

It’s said that teachers always see everything their students do from the podium. Sitting alone atop the high platform, Ji Fanxing took in every expression below her, witnessing with a half-smile the total collapse of her reputation once again.

It was as if none of this concerned her in the least.

She even found herself idly reflecting: Hadn’t everyone in that strict, hypocritical family she’d once lived with grown to despise her just like this? She herself had been the central culprit, the one most difficult to forgive.

Ultimately, they had succeeded in pushing her into the abyss.

…

While Ji Fanxing’s thoughts drifted, Du Shao had already taken the stage, microphone raised.

“Next, please welcome Song Qing! She’ll be performing her original song ‘Confession Envelope’ for everyone!”

[Qingqing is finally on stage! Go Qingqing! She wrote both the lyrics and music for this song herself!!]
[Shengxue is always my favorite!!]
[Will the CP shippers upstairs please leave! Shengxue belongs to my Brother Mo!!]