If you said Wen Shike was cold and aloof, she certainly was, she rarely smiled and didn’t talk much. However, whenever she did speak, there was often a touch of “silly dork” energy to her words. Even though she always looked dead serious when saying these things, with zero intention of being funny, the effect remained the same.
Wen Shike sat in the highest seat, looking down. She had to admit, the view from the top was excellent. Despite a slight sense of vertigo, it was mostly an indescribable feeling of satisfaction.
She wondered what exactly had happened in the outside world to push her into this position.
Fu Chenyuan had indeed done a few things. You couldn’t exactly call it “soliciting votes,” as she never directly told people to vote for Wen Shike. But you couldn’t say she hadn’t solicited votes either, she occasionally posted videos of herself and Wen Shike in the practice room. There were no captions, just the videos.
If Wen Shike had been “clinging” to her for clout, Fu Chenyuan’s fans would likely have been unhappy. But now, it was clearly their “older sister” taking the initiative. Moreover, Fu Chenyuan wasn’t one for fan service; usually, she’d post a single casual selfie once every few months. Lately, she had been posting videos every few days. Even though someone else was always in them, this was much better than before.
Because Wen Shike was the lyricist for Càn, her image in the hearts of Fu Chenyuan’s fans was already decent. After watching the videos for a while, many fans began to consider Wen Shike as “one of their own.”
These fans might not be like the hardcore Super Topic fans who meticulously complete every task, but since they had to open the app anyway for Fu Chenyuan’s daily tasks, it wasn’t a big deal to throw a few votes Wen Shike’s way while they were at it. For many, voting simply became a habit.
Of course, many fans voted just to save face for their “sister.” After all, since Fu Chenyuan had gone this far, if Wen Shike still couldn’t beat the other contestants, Fu Chenyuan would surely be mocked by her rivals. Because of this, they often completed every single task available.
After the first public performance aired, Wen Shike trended on Weibo again, twice. The tags were “Wen Shike” and “Wen Shike Lu Jingwei Partner Dance Tension.”
The solo trending tag was filled with her individual focus cams. The top comments and real time feeds were almost entirely occupied by her fans. There were occasional sour comments, but they were few and far away.
The one with Lu Jingwei featured a cut of their partner dance coordination. The front page was still dominated by fan controlled comments from both sides, but further down, “normal” comments began to appear, though their content didn’t seem very “normal” to Wen Shike.
Did You Eat Sugar Today: Look at the 10 second mark! Did they almost kiss?!
Peaceful New Year: The Young Miss’s gaze here… is absolutely lethal.
Is Your Homework Done: To be honest, I’ve started shipping them. Is there a Super Topic yet?
Is Your Thesis Done: This atmosphere… hiss…
Want Milk Tea: Lu Jingwei is an incredible dancer. I just realized she debuted before, but you can’t find anything on her. She was way too “nugu” (obscure).
Moving is a Hassle: AAAAAAH, this is killing me! That eye contact is insane. Why doesn’t anyone else’s eye contact feel this…
Wen Shike had seen all the Weibo comments. She felt that her gaze when looking at Lu Jingwei was perfectly fine, just standard facial expression management. But after reading the comments and re-watching the video, she felt like something was “wrong” everywhere she looked.
There were even people saying their eyes were “hinting” at something…
Wen Shike stuffed her phone under her covers, her expression looking incredibly righteous.
What a joke. What could they possibly be hinting at? She and Lu Jingwei were dancing with perfectly clear consciences. People nowadays really did have overactive imaginations.
She closed her eyes, trying to force herself to sleep. However, her mind was filled with Lu Jingwei’s eyes, those beautiful, alluring eyes.
In her dream, she reached out her hand, wanting to touch Lu Jingwei’s cheek. But just as she made contact, she heard the other girl shout three crystal clear words: “Don’t touch me!”
Wen Shike woke up with a start. She stared at the ceiling and checked the time.
3:00 AM.
Weibo is the death of me!
After being startled awake, Wen Shike didn’t know when she finally fell back asleep. Either way, when she got up, her head felt heavy and groggy.
She had a livestream tonight. Others had already done theirs, and it was finally her turn.
The stream was set for 8:00 PM. After training with her teammates for the second public performance, Wen Shike quickly showered, reapplied her makeup, grabbed the streaming equipment, and sat down on the sofa at exactly 7:55 PM. She even made sure to adjust her posture before going live.
As soon as the stream started, people flooded in. The stream had no specific theme, it was just chatting and improvising.
Wen Shike glanced at the viewer count: 230,000. She knew the numbers were heavily inflated and there were probably 30,000 to 40,000 real people at most, but the count was still rising.
Suddenly, the count spiked to 500,000. Then, she saw someone using the name Fu Chenyuan drop twenty “Deep Sea Bombs” (expensive virtual gifts) on her.
Wen Shike: “…”
“There’s no need for that,” Wen Shike said. “This money won’t necessarily end up in my hands anyway.”
“Oh, that’s not true. Miss Wen gets a commission,” a staff member nearby chimed in.
“Even so, there’s no need to tip me. It’s unnecessary. No one else needs to tip either.” Wen Shike looked at the comment section. “Fu Chenyuan, if you really want to give me money, I suggest you release two albums a year. I have shares in the company. I can get the dividends.”
“Your last song was six months ago,” Wen Shike added with a frown, her words pointed.
Fu Chenyuan: …
Fu Chenyuan: ???
Fu Chenyuan: Spoken like a true capitalist. Two albums a year? You’re a slave driver, Wen. Though, if you write ten songs for me, I suppose I could make an effort.
Wen Shike automatically ignored Fu Chenyuan’s words.
【Yuan Bird: I totally agree with this!!! Yuan-Yuan hasn’t released an album in forever, boohoo.】
【Eating Melons Today: I didn’t expect this vibe when I clicked into the stream. Everyone else does finger hearts and winks, what are you doing?!】
【Milk Tea is Finished: To be honest, with that sitting posture, if the Eldest Miss weren’t wearing a training uniform, I’d think I was watching a finance program.】
【Go KeKe!: Sob, KeKe, you’re so pretty! Can’t you say a few more words?】
【Paper Kites Take Flight: Listen, Eldest Miss, if you get Fu Chenyuan to work more, all of us “Paper Kites” will help vote for you!】
【Misplaced Affection: I don’t want the company to exploit YuanYuan, but if it’s to nag her into releasing an album… then exploit her all you want.】
【Person to the Left of Eldest Miss: AHHH! Eldest Miss, why are you wearing so little today!】
“The temperature is already in the teens; there’s no need to wear a padded coat anymore,” Wen Shike replied.
Internally, she was speechless, but to maintain her persona, her expression remained calm. “Thank you all for your concern.”
【Fleeting Dream: LMAO, that’s a meme now, Eldest Miss.】
“I’m not very good at small talk, so I’ll just take everyone for a walk around.” Wen Shike actually had plenty she wanted to say, but after filtering her thoughts, none of them seemed to fit her “cold and aloof” image.
She wanted to complain about the cafeteria food, the lack of bottled mineral water, and the fact that the air conditioning didn’t work properly…
But if she actually voiced those complaints, she figured Sister Qiu would probably rush over immediately to give her a lecture.
“These are some of my classmates,” Wen Shike said as she walked over to the counter area.
Several girls looked up and waved at the camera.
“What did you say during your last stream?” Wen Shike tilted her head and lowered her voice.
“I sang,” the girl whispered back.
Wen Shike frowned slightly. “Wasn’t it awkward?”
“As long as you aren’t awkward, the awkwardness belongs to them.”
【Middle of the Night: Plotting out loud, I see.】
【Can’t Slack Off: I want to see Sister Lu!】
“Lu Jingwei?” Wen Shike scanned the comments. Just as she was about to say something, she noticed people were already arguing in the chat.
【Is Wen Cold or Not: Who wants to see Lu Jingwei? Seriously, she’s been frantically leeching off KeKe’s screentime since the first episode. What a blood sucking ‘green tea’ b*tch. She acts all ‘zen’ and detached, but if she were really like that, she’d stay away from KeKe.】
【Drink More Plain Water: Why be so mean? Don’t fight in the livestream, it’ll put the Eldest Miss in a bad mood.】
【Lose 80 Pounds: Hilarious. Isn’t your Wen Shike also leeching off Fu Chenyuan?】
【Yuan-Yuan’s Fortress: ??? We have a great relationship with the Eldest Miss. Don’t try to drive a wedge between them.】
“Lu Jingwei and I are on very good terms. Most of the time, I’m the one who initiates going over to her. Since we’re in the same company, it’s only natural to be close.”
Wen Shike knit her brows slightly. she hadn’t expected this kind of discourse. Clearly, she still didn’t fully understand the entertainment industry.
Carrying the streaming equipment, she did a lap around the building and finally found Lu Jingwei in a corner of the rooftop. She was practicing her singing.
Wen Shike didn’t make a sound. She approached slowly, but just as she was about to greet her, Lu Jingwei turned around and caught the hand Wen Shike was using to tap her.
Wen Shike: “…”
“I saw your shadow,” Lu Jingwei said, her eyes crinkling with a hint of a smile as she let go.
“I wasn’t trying to scare you.” Although that was exactly what she had intended, now that she’d been caught, there was no way she would admit it.
How could a “cold and aloof” person engage in such childish behavior?
“Oh.” Lu Jingwei didn’t seem interested in arguing the point. “Are you streaming?”
“Yeah,” Wen Shike replied. “Some people wanted to see you. Want to say hello?”
Wen Shike subtly used her thumb to cover the comment section. Lu Jingwei leaned into the frame, waved, and gave a brief greeting.
“I think the show should arrange some streaming tasks next time so I know what to do,” Wen Shike said, pursing her lips. “This is too difficult for someone who’s bad at talking.”
Lu Jingwei glanced at Wen Shike and nodded in agreement.
“Then go back to practicing your song. I won’t disturb you.”
“Okay.”
Only after Lu Jingwei could no longer see the phone screen did Wen Shike move her thumb.
【Sunshine Everywhere: Dying here. So awkward. Are you guys always like this?】
“When we have serious business to discuss, it’s a bit easier to talk,” Wen Shike said. “This chat doesn’t really have a goal. I thought about what to do during the day, but I felt like nothing really suited me, and then suddenly it was 8:00 PM.”
Wen Shike paused. “Actually, there is one thing that only I can do here.”