The lilies, still in their budding stage, were at the peak of their pollen-laden bloom.

Ji Fanxing’s response was like a bombshell, sparking endless discussion across the internet. “Sister Ji is so cool! This is the true spirit of an artist!” In a certain livestream, an analytical host was dissecting Ji Fanxing’s actions. Fans expressed their support for her decision in a flood of colorful comments: “Sister Ji doesn’t follow the crowd! Having her own opinions is the best!” Yet some argued she was too arrogant: “Fang Zhijing is a master! How rare for him to extend an olive branch, only to be rejected so bluntly? That’s disrespectful.” “Is fame now an excuse for reckless behavior?” “What kind of breathtaking song will the semifinals bring?”

Meanwhile, in a quiet and refined study, Ji Fanxing sat upright before her computer. The screen filled with all kinds of comments. She smiled faintly, unmoved by the clamor outside. Suddenly, the phone rang sharply in the tranquil room, and Ji Fanxing frowned slightly before answering.

“What are you doing? Fang Zhijing is a master!” her father’s voice was full of reproach and anger. Ji Fanxing sighed softly, “Father, I simply did what I believe is right.”

“Right? Do you know how much effort I spent connecting your sister to Fang Zhijing? If you offend him, how is your sister supposed to sing his songs?” her father demanded angrily.

Ji Fanxing replied calmly, “My sister has her own path to walk. And—”

“You’ve been useless since childhood, always ruining things!” Ji Changming interrupted, “That song ‘Joy’—what a mess! It’s a laughingstock outside.”

A flicker of determination appeared in Ji Fanxing’s eyes. “‘Joy’ expresses my artistic vision. It may seem strange, and perhaps shameful to you. But at least I dare to express myself.”

“Express yourself? Do you think that’s what’s popular now? Don’t forget what our family depends on!” her father’s voice rose.

“Our family ought to depend on genuine art,” Ji Fanxing said firmly. “I respect Teacher Fang Zhijing, but that doesn’t mean I must compromise. My music, my path, must be forged by myself.”

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then her father spoke in a low voice, “You unfilial child!”

“Thank you for the compliment,” Ji Fanxing retorted, merciless. “If there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”

The call ended, leaving only a cold echo lingering in the empty study.

In the blink of an eye, the semifinals of “King of Song” arrived as scheduled.

On the morning of the competition, the sun had not yet fully risen. Ji Fanxing saw her mother’s post online: a bouquet of pure white lilies accompanied by the words, “Cheering for my daughter.”

“Is that Ji Fanxing’s mother? Is she cheering for her?”

Ji Fanxing’s lips curled into a cold smile. She knew the gesture was not meant for her—the fragrant lilies in the photo were nothing but an allergen for herself, while for her sister, they were a beloved favorite.

From childhood, she had been like a blurred shadow in the background, while her sister forever stood in the spotlight.

Ji Fanxing put away her phone, washed up, and prepared to head for the venue. Today was the semifinals and the last chance to contest the King position—the outcome would decide whether she could hold onto her title.

Outside Huayun Theater, the streets were already packed and bustling. “King of Song” had long become a sensation. Many contestants, though not officially debuted, already had devoted fans. At the entrance, supporters held signs and gifts, waiting patiently under the security’s orderly guidance.

As Ji Fanxing approached from the side entrance, a young man wearing a hat and moving nimbly suddenly darted from the crowd. Before the security could react, he hurriedly thrust a bouquet into her arms, exclaiming excitedly, “This is our sincerest blessing for you!”

The lilies were at their most potent, their fragrance overwhelming. Ji Fanxing’s nose twitched, and she couldn’t help but sneeze.

Her body trembled slightly, pale skin blooming with red rashes. She closed her eyes tight, drew a deep breath, trying to suppress the creeping discomfort. At that moment, Ji Shengxue appeared beside her like a gentle breeze.

“Xingxing, are you alright?” Ji Shengxue took the pungent lilies from her hands, her voice full of concern. “You don’t look well... Should we go to the medical room?”

Ji Fanxing shook her head, forcing a wan smile. “Sis... I’m fine. Just a mild allergy.”

As soon as she finished, she felt an itching at her neck, spreading rapidly. She lowered her head, hiding the red bumps spreading across her skin.

“You’re so stubborn.” Ji Shengxue leaned closer, whispering softly in her ear, “Don’t force yourself. If you’re not well today...” She paused. “I can take your place on stage.”

Among the crowd, whispers rose: “See? The older sister is so considerate.”

Another voice chimed in: “Exactly! That’s true family love.”

But no one noticed the flicker of satisfaction and calculation in Ji Shengxue’s eyes.

Ji Fanxing knew she could not retreat. “Thank you for your concern, sister.” She answered calmly, sidestepping the attempt to disrupt her rhythm. “But the stage is mine. Please rest assured.”

Seeing her persuasion fail, Ji Shengxue shrugged helplessly and turned away before finishing her sentence.

Just then, a fan happened to record the entire exchange on their phone—from Ji Shengxue taking the lilies, to their conversation, to their parting—capturing every detail.

Soon, the footage spread online: “#KingOfSong# The Ji sisters’ heartwarming backstage interaction,” accompanied by video and photos on social media.

The comment section exploded immediately:

“Wow~ Our icy Queen actually has a soft spot!”

“The older sister is so thoughtful!”

Chu Hao had been quietly observing backstage, his gaze sharp as a hawk. The moment Ji Fanxing stepped into the dressing room, he noticed the subtle change in her complexion.

“What’s wrong? You look a bit pale,” Chu Hao asked coldly, though his eyes betrayed a hint of concern.

Ji Fanxing gently shook her head, replying with composure, “It’s nothing serious, maybe just a bit too much pollen in the morning air.”

Chu Hao frowned, moving swiftly closer. “Don’t push yourself. With how much you’re sneezing, it doesn’t look like nothing.”

Ji Fanxing tried to ease the tension with a smile. “Thank you for worrying, but the performance is about to start. I can’t let a minor allergy affect my show.”

Chu Hao remained unmoved; in his eyes, this woman always pushed herself too hard. “You call this professionalism? Don’t forget—your health is your foundation!”

Faced with his almost commanding tone, Ji Fanxing did not back down. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

The two exchanged glances for a moment, tension lingering as the organizer’s urgent call rang out: “Ready to go on stage in five minutes!”

Chu Hao took a deep breath. “Fine! Go straight to the medical room after the competition.” He turned to leave, but not before emphasizing, “Remember what I said.”

“Got it.” Ji Fanxing sent him a resolute smile as he departed.

The lights came on, the music soared, and the semifinals of “King of Song” officially began. As Ji Fanxing stepped onto the stage, no one noticed the fine beads of sweat on her forehead or her slightly labored breathing—for every gaze was captivated by her flawless strength and allure.