Given Ji Song’s aloof demeanor and unapproachable aura, those who coveted him didn’t dare act on their desires.
Over the years, no one had ever been like Yun Yueming…
—Sticking to him like a piece of plaster!
The man’s patience was reaching its limit, his sharp jaw tightening as he gritted his teeth.
This person’s behavior was frivolous and unruly.
Utterly lacking in decorum!
He shoved Yun Yueming’s shoulder, trying to make him go away.
But unexpectedly, the pretty face had a well-proportioned figure, and the moment his hand made contact, a faint electric sensation seemed to pass through Ji Song’s fingers.
Strange. Vague. Ambiguous.
“…!”
He quickly pulled his hand back.
Yun Yueming quickly shot him a look, seizing the chance to let Meng Qi also bask in the aura of the great immortal.
He still didn’t realize that to restrain a righteous man like Ji Song…
It took a little scoundrel like him.
With a cheeky grin, he said, “Teacher Ji, if you’re scared, you can hold me too.”
Ji Song: “…”
If there weren’t so many people around, he would have used his immortal arts to fling this shameless fool ten meters away.
During all this commotion, Cha Min-hee’s shamanic performance had already ended.
The mysterious traditional culture of ancient times was rarely promoted, and for most people, this was their first time witnessing such a systematic ritual performance.
The audience was deeply impressed, their applause echoing across the field.
Suddenly, Cha Min-hee picked up the microphone and said, “Thank you all for watching and for your respect. This is a traditional culture originating from our country, K!”
“It has a long history and is unique in this world!”
Ji Song’s attention was instantly divided.
What arrogance.
Since when did shamanic rituals originate from such a tiny place?
On top of that, she had Chinese characters written on her face, wore a bizarre costume that looked nothing like traditional attire, and slaughtered pigs like a possessed demon…
None of this had anything to do with a sacred ritual.
Listening to Cha Min-hee’s impassioned speech, Yun Yueming’s lips curled into a pout so deep it could hang an oil pot. He was utterly unimpressed.
He deliberately asked, “Teacher Ji, is she telling the truth?”
Ji Song had initially wanted to smack Yun Yueming, but now he wanted to smack Cha Min-hee even more. “Only condemned criminals with heinous crimes have tattoos on their faces.”
His handsome face turned cold.
“A mere ant daring to claim divine authority—they will inevitably face backlash.”
Time quickly passed midnight. The diligent trainees were still practicing in the dance studio, drenched in sweat.
As for those like Yun Yueming, who had no fortune to enjoy but still sought comfort, they were already fast asleep.
Following his advice, Meng Qi had moved into the suite next to Ji Song’s.
She placed a hand on her heavily swollen belly, a look of astonishment crossing her face.
It didn’t hurt anymore…
The thing inside her belly had stopped causing trouble.
What kind of divine constitution did Ji Song have? And how did Yun Yueming know?
Meng Qi couldn’t figure it out, but the overwhelming sense of safety made her happy. She took a hot shower and tucked herself into bed.
As for how to get rid of this demon fetus later…
Meng Qi sighed, hesitating over whether to tell Yun Yueming the secret buried deep in her heart.
She didn’t dare to easily gamble on human nature.
A wisp of black mist lingered silently by the door, locked onto its target, and rushed inside without hesitation—
The shadow collided with the door, instantly like falling into a pot of boiling oil.
A sound—half shriek, half sizzle—rang out.
A mass of chaotic darkness writhed in agony on the floor a few times before gradually revealing the blurred figure of Cha Min-hee.
The woman no longer had the appearance of a flawless idol from the day or the sacred presence she had displayed during the shamanic ritual.
With a green face and menacing fangs, she looked terrifying.
Twisting into an inhumanly contorted posture, she writhed back and forth outside Meng Qi’s door for a long time, her face full of disbelief.
In the end, she didn’t dare attempt to break in again.
The dark figure let out a sinister, chilling laugh, slowly dissipiating like steam.
“No matter who’s helping you, I will definitely kill them…”
“…Ke ke ke…”
The deadline for the theme song evaluation was drawing closer.
Training was in full swing.
Idol 101 was already generating buzz before its official airing. The production team had received sponsorship offers from various brands, and naturally, they needed to reciprocate.
The director looked at the earnest trainees practicing in the studio, a satisfied glint in his eyes, as if looking at a free labor force.
“Draw lots! Draw lots!”
“We need to select five trainees to shoot a rice wine commercial on Style Street. Come on, everyone, take a chance!”
There was no need for further encouragement—the trainees surged forward eagerly.
“Pick me!”
“Rice wine? I’ve been drinking it since I was a kid!”
As the saying goes: Even good wine needs a proper showcase. Many contestants were well aware that after the show aired, they might end up completely edited out, or at best, get only a fleeting second of screen time.
Opportunities to be seen by the audience were few and far between.
Thus, regardless of their ranking, every trainee was determined to be selected, ambition blazing in their eyes.
Yun Yueming, on the other hand, was sprawled out on a beanbag chair, practically melting into it.
He wanted to get eliminated anyway. With a fixed monthly salary of five thousand, why bother?
Shoot a commercial?
They weren’t paying extra. No way he was going!
Yang Xing turned around and saw Yun Yueming lazing around with zero guilt.
Assuming Yun Yueming was too intimidated by the top trainees in Class A to even try, Yang Xing snatched the lottery box and shoved it right in front of him.
“Come on! Don’t you want to debut? Every extra chance to be seen increases your odds!”
And predictably, the worst-case scenario happened.
Yun Yueming got selected.
What other trainees dreamed of, Yun Yueming treated like bad luck.
His face went blank.
Yang Xing also made the cut.
Under normal circumstances, he’d be jumping for joy. But today, for some reason, his eyes lit up for only a moment before dimming again.
He tossed the plastic ball back into the box and looked at the staff. “I might not be able to shoot the commercial. Sorry.”
He, of all people, should have wanted the screen time more than anyone.
Sensing something was off, Yun Yueming quietly followed the dejected Yang Xing out of the practice room.
Sure enough, at the corridor corner, he overheard Yang Xing on the phone, voice trembling. “I’ll come back tomorrow. You get some rest…”
Before he could react, he turned around and nearly ran straight into Yun Yueming, whose face was full of curiosity.
Yang Xing was startled. “You eavesdropped!?”
Yun Yueming was unapologetic. “Just checking what you’re doing out here alone. Didn’t want you getting into trouble.”
His words carried a hidden meaning.
But Yang Xing took it as genuine concern, and a warmth spread through his heart.
He didn’t have many real friends in the production crew, but Yun Yueming was one of them.
Yang Xing was young, and with the frustration weighing on him, he didn’t want to hide anything from someone he trusted.
His eyes reddened as he ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, my family’s been going through some stuff lately.”
He vaguely explained the situation.
Turns out, strange things had been happening in the Yang household.
A chandelier had fallen and hit Mrs. Yang, Mr. Yang’s business was taking a downturn, and even Yang Xing had just twisted his ankle while dancing.
Yun Yueming had noticed the faint dark aura on Yang Xing’s forehead earlier that morning—so there really was something going on.
Hesitating for a moment, he asked, “Have you met Cha Min-hee?”
“No, I haven’t.” Yang Xing’s expression softened at the mention of Cha Min-hee, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “But my parents were introduced to Teacher Cha through an acquaintance.”
“I heard she’s a young but highly skilled mystic.”
“My mom booked her over a month in advance. She’s going to visit our house tomorrow to perform a ritual and cleanse the place of bad luck.”
Yun Yueming’s heart lurched. He grabbed Yang Xing’s arm. “You absolutely cannot let that happen!”
The sudden intensity in his voice startled Yang Xing, who quickly furrowed his brows and shot back, “Why not?”
Yun Yueming said, “If you believe Cha Min-hee is a real master, you might as well believe that Ji Song and I have known each other for eight hundred years.”
“Anyway, Cha Min-hee is suspicious—she doesn’t actually know how to perform rituals!”
With so many things going wrong at home, Yang Xing was already anxious. Hearing this only made him more frustrated.
“If she can’t, can you?”
Realizing his tone was harsh, Yang Xing calmed down a little, but his expression remained tense.
“Yueming, don’t go around saying things you don’t understand. You might offend Teacher Cha. My family has already prepared all the offerings she asked for!”
One of Yun Yueming’s virtues was not trying to persuade those unwilling to listen.
Seeing that, he slowly let go of Yang Xing’s arm. “So, you’re skipping the commercial to go home tomorrow?”
Yang Xing nodded, a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
“My home is only a few kilometers away from Style Street. I was so lucky to get picked…”
“Forget it. Nothing matters more than tomorrow’s ritual.”
Yun Yueming suddenly had a splitting headache.
His magical abilities were limited—he could only write a few functional talismans at a time. He had given one to Meng Qi recently and made another for himself.
The one he kept for himself was especially powerful, using up most of his spiritual energy.
Now, all he could do was wish Yang Xing the best.
If things went south…
He could always bring Meng Qi and Yang Xing to Ji Song.
The whole point of being on this show was to stay away from his master, but now he had to rely on him at every turn—and secretly, at that.
What a disgrace to fox dignity!
The next morning, before the sun was fully up, the selected trainees boarded a bus heading to the Folk Culture Street.
Since they were still unknown trainees, there was no luxury van for them—they had to squeeze in with makeup artists, photographers, and assistants.
Yun Yueming was so exhausted he felt like he was seeing ghosts.
Still, he reminded Meng Qi’s assistant to make sure she stayed at the base and didn’t go out.
He couldn’t figure out why Cha Min-hee had put a demon fetus in Meng Qi’s belly.
Was it just to torment her?
And where did that fetus come from?
Overthinking things left Yun Yueming too tired to fall asleep.
He gave up and opened his eyes, reaching into his pocket. His fingers found the small talisman paper, bringing him some comfort.
Geng Yizhen sat beside him, muttering quietly, “I heard there’s a place on Style Street that sells amazing cheese fried chicken. I’m going to sneak off to try it after the shoot.”
At the mention of his favorite food, Yun Yueming nearly let his fox ears pop out.
“Fried chicken!?”
Controlling his craving, he teased Geng Yizhen. “I didn’t expect someone as strict with their diet as you to sneak off for a cheat meal.”
Given Geng Yizhen’s skill and discipline, he was bound to be the undisputed center of the show.
He usually seemed perfect, effortlessly handling the 24-hour live cameras.
Meeting Yun Yueming’s surprised look, he murmured, “Idols… are human too.”
With that, he put on his earphones and focused on writing a song.
A love song.
Yun Yueming’s groggy fox brain slowly processed the words, repeating them as if just realizing something.
“Idols are human too…?”
Just then, a low-key black luxury car smoothly pulled up alongside the crowded bus.
In the passenger seat, Ji Song’s manager, Hyper, was slumped over, half-asleep.
“What’s so urgent that we had to go out this early in the morning, and to Folk Culture Street of all places?”
In the backseat, Ji Song lifted his gaze lazily.
His sharp eyes locked onto the handsome side profile visible through the bus window.
A few seconds later, he replied expressionlessly, “To confirm something.”
Hyper had no idea what could require Ji Song’s personal attention. Instantly alert, he asked, “What?”
Ji Song: “Whether the coffee on Style Street is any good.”
Hyper: “???”