Qi Deng walked with heavy, leaden steps. Panting heavily, she slung her arm over Ming Tang’s shoulder, pressing half her body weight onto her.
Ming Tang was also exhausted. She raised her hand, gave a gentle shove, and pushed Qi Deng’s arm away.
Qi Deng staggered a bit, gasping for breath as she stuttered out her complaint. “What… what do you think the production team… was thinking? Why do they have to make everyone… this exhausted before going to shoot?”
Ming Tang supported herself against the edge of the stage as she walked backstage. “Who knows…”
The romance system was an absolute trap.
And the production team was an even bigger one.
They could have easily arranged the official profile photo shoot right after makeup, so everyone’s styling and condition would be at their absolute best.
But look at them now.
Each and every one of them looked thoroughly drained and dispirited, moving their listless limbs like the walking dead.
“Didn’t you guys know?” someone nearby chimed in quietly. “There was an issue with the KT boards used for the studio set. The printing factory failed to deliver them on time, and the director refused to compromise on quality. That’s why they swapped the shooting order of the MV and the profile photos.”
“Oh, so that’s what happened,” Qi Deng replied, dragging out her words.
Ming Tang actually hadn’t known about this.
She turned her head to look at the speaker, who seemed to be a “native” of Class C. It was highly likely an insider scoop that hadn’t had time to spread yet.
Fortunately, the air conditioning in the recording hall was running high enough to prevent a large group of people from sweating profusely. Otherwise, having to shoot their profile photos with sweaty faces and drenched hair would have been far too pathetic.
Since they were wearing the show’s uniform, no one dared to slump or sit carelessly like they usually did in their training clothes, terrified that an accidental crease would end up on their profile pictures. The director, probably seeing how overly cautious everyone was being, simply told them to relocate and head over to the trainee seating area in the adjacent recording hall to take a breather.
Ming Tang was originally about to take a seat in the general area assigned to the Class C rankings, but Qiao Xiangshu, who was continuing to walk higher up, scooped her up by the arm.
“It’s so boring sitting down there. Come up and chat with us,” Qiao Xiangshu said, raising an eyebrow.
Seeing Chi Ling behind Qiao Xiangshu, her lips still slightly parted as she regulated her breathing. Ming Tang agreed almost instantly, without a second thought.
Qi Deng had actually wanted to follow them up brazenly, but she was cut off by another Class C trainee, missing out on the tragic loss of a chance to spend time with her goddess.
This time, no one fought over the seat at the absolute peak.
Qiao Xiangshu’s rank had crawled up slowly from fifth place during the initial evaluation to fourth, and the fifth-place seat right next to her belonged to Qi Zhen.
Back when the two were at Huayin, they hadn’t quite gotten along. Now that they were forced to be “desk mates” and trained together day in and day out, their mutual dislike had actually faded quite a bit.
When Qi Zhen saw Qiao Xiangshu leading Ming Tang up, though she didn’t say anything explicitly, her displeasure was quite obvious.
“Xu Xu,” Chi Ling took a step forward. “Would it be alright if we temporarily swapped seats?”
Xu Xu nodded, though she shifted toward that highly coveted, spotlighted seat with a racing heart.
The rankings for Class A had shifted somewhat after the theme song evaluation, but Chi Ling’s number one spot and Xu Xu’s number two spot remained unchanged.
“Hey, Qi Zhen, why don’t you go find Nie Wenyu to hang out with?” Qiao Xiangshu smiled, her eyes narrowing as she pointed a finger down. “Look, she’s calling your name.”
Qi Zhen followed the direction of her finger, looked over a few times, and then turned to walk down the tiers.
“Are we acting a bit like bullies here…” Ming Tang sat down awkwardly.
Qiao Xiangshu spread her hands in feigned innocence. “Then you’re really misjudging me. You saw it too, Nie Wenyu was indeed calling her. You have no idea, Nie Wenyu has become incredibly clingy ever since that day.”
That day?
Ming Tang was dazed for a brief moment before she realized. Qiao Xiangshu was likely referring to the time Nie Wenyu had tried to embarrass Chi Ling in front of everyone, claiming that as an Omega mingling among Alphas, Chi Ling wasn’t afraid of being tainted by their scents, only to be called out by her and Qiao Xiangshu.
Even Qi Zhen believed that Nie Wenyu had been in the wrong.
“Is she afraid?” Ming Tang understood immediately.
Qiao Xiangshu shrugged and said in a deeply earnest tone, “Yeah. So instead of spending your time thinking about these pointless things, you should put in more effort to secure a rightful, undeniable spot for yourself in the top seven.”
Ming Tang was amused by Qiao Xiangshu’s incredibly relaxed tone. “You make it sound so easy. If it were really that easy to catch up, the debut spots wouldn’t be considered so incredibly rare and precious, would they?”
“Chi Ling! Tell her off!” Instead of countering Ming Tang herself, Qiao Xiangshu leaned over the back of her chair and began to act spoiled toward Chi Ling, who was sitting in the second place seat.
Chi Ling, however, seemed to play along completely. She looked at Ming Tang earnestly and nodded. “She’s right, Ming Tang.”
Ming Tang suddenly felt that Alphas weren’t the only annoying ones; Betas could be very annoying too.
“…Yeah, I’ll work hard,” Ming Tang said. “I told you, I won’t let you down.”
Chi Ling’s beautiful eyes curved into a gentle arc.
Before this, Ming Tang had never thought of Chi Ling as someone who smiled often. But ever since she started interacting with her, it felt like she was constantly seeing her smile.
And every single time she caught a glimpse of Chi Ling’s smile, she could never help but smile along with her.
“Let me map it out for you,” Qiao Xiangshu said, beginning to count on her fingers.
“Once today’s recording is over, next up is the first public performance. During the first performance, you’ll have a chance to be re-evaluated. Right now you’re in Class C. Put in some effort, and you might just leap straight into Class B.”
Chi Ling nodded with absolute certainty.
“Then, for the second public performance, assuming you run into a group of formidable rivals and still remain in Class B given your talent and level of dedication, making it to the top tier of Class B shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Chi Ling continued to nod with a face full of conviction.
Hearing all of this, Ming Tang desperately wished she could reach out and cover Qiao Xiangshu’s wildly babbling mouth.
What talent?
Who would dare boast about talent right in front of Chi Ling?
Ming Tang nervously lifted her gaze, looking at Chi Ling once more.
Yet, Chi Ling still nodded earnestly.
“By the third public performance, you’ll break into the debut lineup. That way, by the time the final debut battle comes around, you should be totally safe.”
Even though she was speaking of things that seemed equally out of reach, Chi Ling’s voice sounded far more pleasant to the ears than Qiao Xiangshu’s.
Chi Ling even blinked again.
Ming Tang was instantly defeated. She conceded in rapid succession, “Mm, I’ll find my own place standing in the debut lineup.”
She had always yearned for a high position, so naturally, she would do everything within her power to stand in that spot.
“Then I’ll give this to you,” Chi Ling said, unclipping her hair bobby pin. “Returning the property to its original owner.”
“Huh?” Ming Tang blanked out, not quite catching what Chi Ling meant.
“It accompanied me through the recording of the theme song MV, and it heard you make your promise twice.” Without giving Ming Tang a choice, Chi Ling grabbed her hand and pressed the hair clip into her palm. “Maybe it can bring you a bit of center position good luck.”
Ming Tang accepted it. Amidst the joy in her heart, her concern still slipped through. “But for the photo shoot later, you can’t be without a hair accessory, right?”
“I’ll just take this one of yours.”
As Chi Ling spoke, she reached out directly toward Ming Tang’s braided hair and plucked off the green bow hair tie that had originally belonged to her.
Her sleeve brushed past, bringing a light breeze with it. Ming Tang seemed to catch a faint, delicate scent of white tea.
Fortunately, the production team didn’t actually force the trainees to head into the shoot with the exact styling they had worn while dancing through the song three times. They arranged for makeup artists to touch up their makeup and tidy up their messy hair.
Ming Tang’s hair barely reached the tip of her chin, so it didn’t easily get messy to begin with. On top of that, Sister Xi’s braids were tightly knit, leaving the makeup artist with absolutely nothing to worry about.
Relying on the experience she had accumulated over two years at Huayin, having shot plenty of promotional photos and merchandise material. Ming Tang smoothly completed her profile photo shoot using her best angles and expressions.
By the time everything wrapped up, the sky outside had already turned dark. Ming Tang leaned back against the chair, holding up the little hair clip that had traveled through so many hands, looking at it under the ceiling lights.
“Ming Tang, Jiahe said she plans to sneak out for late-night snacks. Are you coming?