On the campus forum, the tide of opinion was starting to shift.
“Honestly, Bai Anqi isn’t that bad, is she? She just doesn’t have the talent, but she really does work hard.”
“Being crushed publicly by Shen Qinghuan—if it were me, I might have dropped out. She still attends class normally. Her mental resilience is genuinely strong.”
“Genius deserves admiration, but hardworking people deserve respect too.”
The haters were dwindling, and the sympathizers were growing.
Bai Anqi’s mindset was quietly changing through all of this.
Before, she had relied on Lin Chen and secretly leeched off Shen Qinghuan’s resources, but recently Shen Qinghuan had suddenly changed her ways.
On the day Bai Anqi bombed her monthly exam, Lin Chen, aside from sighing and blaming her, hadn’t helped at all.
Bai Anqi suddenly felt that even her childhood friend, Lin Chen-gege, couldn’t be counted on anymore.
She had to find her own way—and Sheng Yao Dian Feng, that variety show, was her best opportunity!
A million-yuan prize, top-tier exposure, a satellite TV stage, a signing opportunity…
As long as she could beat Shen Qinghuan on that stage, all the humiliation she’d suffered would be washed away!
Bai Anqi sat up, opened her computer, and decisively submitted her audition application through the online channel.
When Lin Chen found out, he was even more excited than she was.
“Anqi, you can definitely do it!” His voice was gentle yet firm. “You work a hundred times harder than Shen Qinghuan. If talent isn’t enough, make up for it with sweat!”
“It’s a live broadcast—viewers look at more than just technique. They look at charisma, at likability. Those are all your strengths.”
Bai Anqi lowered her head without a word, feeling annoyed inside.
Lin Chen took her hand, his tone growing even more fervent:
“You have to defeat Shen Qinghuan and show everyone what you’re capable of. Anqi, I believe in you.”
The news spread quickly through the school.
The genius student Shen Qinghuan had signed up for the variety show auditions—and Bai Anqi had signed up too.
Dozens of discussion threads immediately exploded across the campus forum, with even more buzz than the monthly exam incident.
“Isn’t this just a showdown between a talent freak and an ordinary person? Saving my spot.”
“Shen Qinghuan’s talent crushes everything. Bai Anqi can’t compete at all, right?”
“Not necessarily. A variety show isn’t an exam. Live broadcasts favor audience appeal. With Bai Anqi’s face and personality, she might actually win more fans.”
“Don’t forget how badly Bai Anqi failed when she imitated Shen Qinghuan last time—and she still dares to share a stage?”
“That was the monthly exam; this is a variety show. The rules are different. What if Bai Anqi picks the right piece?”
The two factions argued endlessly on the forum, neither able to convince the other.
But everyone tacitly agreed on one thing: the live auditions for this variety show were bound to be spectacular.
In the academy’s practice rooms, Shen Qinghuan knew nothing of the outside turmoil.
She had carefully selected her pieces, occasionally exchanging messages with Su You, but most of her time was spent with the violin never leaving her hands.
Three days until the auditions.
The thought that in three days she could claim the three-thousand-yuan prize for passing the preliminary screening filled Shen Qinghuan with motivation.
the Shen family villa.
The living room TV was on, a finance channel host analyzing the stock market.
Father Shen lounged on the sofa, a newspaper in hand, not having turned a page in ages.
Jiang Bihua walked over carrying a teacup and sat down beside her husband.
She picked up her phone and habitually scrolled through local campus news, when a push notification popped up.
“Two beautiful female students from Jingda Yinyue Xueyuan sign up for the Sheng Yao Dian Feng variety show—campus abuzz over the battle between the genius student and the hardworking student.”
The accompanying photos showed Shen Qinghuan at the monthly exam recital, placed side by side with a photo of Bai Anqi volunteering at the welfare home.
Jiang Bihua’s finger hovered over the screen as she stared at it for several seconds.
Father Shen glanced over from the corner of his eye, said nothing, and went back to reading his newspaper.
Shen Yanzhou came down the stairs in a tailored suit, car keys in hand.
Seeing his mother staring blankly at her phone, he asked casually, “Mom, what are you looking at?”
Jiang Bihua handed over the phone. Shen Yanzhou glanced at it, then returned it expressionlessly.
“What is she up to now? A variety show? Doesn’t she think she’s famous enough?”
Jiang Bihua sighed softly. “She just wants to find a new place where she can play her violin in peace.”
Shen Yanzhou gave a cold laugh.
“Play in peace? When Shen Qinghuan cut ties with us, did she ever stop to think about how many international stages we sent her to?”
Father Shen finally spoke, his voice flat and indifferent.
“That’s enough. Drop it… Whatever Shen Qinghuan does is her own business. It has nothing to do with the Shen family.”
Jiang Bihua opened her mouth as if to say something, then gave up.
She set the phone down on the coffee table, and the screen went dark.
Shen Yanzhou turned to leave. At the door, his steps faltered for a moment, as if he might turn back—but in the end, he simply pulled the door open.
The front door closed, leaving the Shen parents facing each other in silence.
Morning light filtered through the gaps in the ginkgo leaves, scattering flecks of gold across the plaza of Jingda Yinyue Xueyuan.
The production crew of Sheng Yao Dian Feng had arrived before dawn.
Massive crates of live broadcast equipment were stacked outside the concert hall, crew members carrying cameras weaved between them, and cables ran from the plaza all the way into the main hall.
A giant LED screen had been erected outside the concert hall’s main entrance, looping the show’s promotional trailer. The stirring strings drew passing students to stop and watch again and again.
Jib-arm cameras were set up on both sides of the plaza, their lenses slowly sweeping, tracking every passing figure.
The Jingda campus hadn’t been this lively in a long time.
“This setup is insane. A satellite TV live broadcast really is something else—when has our school ever gotten this kind of treatment?”
“I heard it’s being streamed across the entire internet, with real-time bullet comments and a popularity voting channel. The production team means business this time.”
“See that tent over there? That’s the contestants’ waiting area. Full coverage, live-streamed the whole time.”
“Oh my god, so if I go to the bathroom later, the whole nation’s going to see it?”
A group of students crowded at the edge of the plaza, chattering excitedly.
Student council members carried out rows of folding chairs, arranging viewing areas on both sides of the plaza.
By before noon, the chairs were already more than half full.
Inside the concert hall, the preparations were even more elaborate.
The original wooden judges’ seats had been removed and replaced with the production team’s professional judging panel—five chairs lined up in a row, each with a microphone set before it.
The stage lighting had been completely recalibrated, the color temperature of the spotlights adjusted to the optimal setting for HD broadcast.
At the highest point of the concert hall, two 4K broadcast-grade cameras sat mounted on their rigs, red lights glowing as they warmed up.
“Dear viewers, this is the live broadcast of the Sheng Yao Dian Feng national university auditions, Jingda station—”
A staff member ran one last sound check, the voice echoing through the hall.
Everything was ready.
The waiting area for audition contestants was set up in a fan-shaped lounge on the east side of the concert hall.
On the wall over there hung a giant logo of the show, and the red light of a camera in the corner glowed steadily.
Shen Qinghuan hadn’t arrived particularly early; several contestants were already seated in the green room—some touching up their makeup in front of mirrors, others silently flexing their fingers in a corner.
She found a seat by the window, her instrument case in hand, her gaze resting on the ginkgo tree outside.
Her phone buzzed.
It was a message from Su You—a whole string of them, fired off like a barrage.
“Heard you’re going on TV today? I’ll deign to watch for a bit.”
“It’s fine if you lose—after all, it’s not the first time you’ve embarrassed yourself. I’ll treat you to dinner tonight. Don’t overthink it, just go have fun.”
“Actually, forget it, you’re definitely going to win. When have you ever lost? Okay, I’ll shut up now.”
Shen Qinghuan stared at the screen and secretly smiled.
The stubbornness of Su You’s mouth had always been directly proportional to the softness of her heart.
She replied with a few words: “When I win, dinner’s on me!”
Su You replied instantly: “Win first, then we’ll talk. Don’t brag in advance.”
Shen Qinghuan put her phone away, looked down at the instrument case, and took a deep breath.