After Being Bound to the Scummy Alpha System, I Became Famous Thanks to My Face Blindness - Chapter 18

Tang Ling tried to hide the unease rising in her chest, forcing herself to sound calm. “Really? What a coincidence.”

Tan Shiyi nodded. “I just saw it two days ago. I thought she was older than us.”

That was indeed true. Tan Shiyi hadn’t cared much about Pu Xiaoyu in the first place. If Pu Xiaoyu hadn’t tricked her into coming to her dorm under the guise of ‘work talk’ in an attempt to poach her, she wouldn’t have bothered looking up the woman’s celebrity profile at all.

But to Tang Ling’s ears, it sounded completely different—of course something must’ve happened between them two days ago, something that suddenly made Tan Shiyi interested in Pu Xiaoyu!

Tan Shiyi tilted her head, confused. “You didn’t know? I thought you liked Teacher Pu quite a bit.”

Tang Ling lied without blinking. “I only care about her work, not her personal life.”

Tan Shiyi frowned slightly. “But last time you said her achievements today were all through her own hard work, and that she had great personal charm.”

Tang Ling groaned inwardly. Of all the nonsense I’ve said, you just had to remember that one. She forced a casual tone. “Did I? I don’t remember saying that.”

Tan Shiyi didn’t press it. Her mind was already occupied with something else—she’d been waiting for feedback on the design proposal she’d submitted to Pu Xiaoyu, but there’d been no reply, and the delay was starting to make her anxious. “Do you have time tonight? I’d like to discuss some details about our next performance.”

Tang Ling nodded. “Sure, I’ll come find you tonight.”

Tang Ling’s new haircut caused quite a stir in the group. The moment she walked into the practice room that afternoon, the girls all gasped in unison.

“Tang Ling, when did you cut your hair? You look so cool!”

“This hairstyle suits you way better than your old wavy curls—it’s fresh, youthful, totally gives off a boyish charm!”

“Seriously, you look amazing! I didn’t even recognize you at first glance!”

Tang Ling scratched her head, a little embarrassed. “It’s fine, I guess?”

Pu Xiaoyu narrowed her eyes with a faint smile. “It really suits you. Did your stylist suggest it?”

Tang Ling grew cautious. “No, I just wanted a change.”

Pu Xiaoyu’s lips curved. “Well, the change is a very successful one.”

Tang Ling almost wanted to ask what her previous image had been in Pu Xiaoyu’s eyes—and what she looked like now—but decided it would sound too deliberate, so she kept quiet.

After several days of rehearsal, the girls were finally in sync. The song and choreography were coming together nicely; after a few run-throughs that afternoon, the performance was nearly complete.

By comparison, Cheng Qingyan and Fang Zhizi were struggling. Cheng’s expressions still looked forced, and Fang had only just returned from leave and couldn’t keep up with the moves.

Both of them ended up turning to Tang Ling for help.

Cheng Qingyan, when she smiled genuinely, could be breathtaking—just a slight lift of her brows and curve of her lips was enough to make hearts flutter. But getting her to smile naturally was harder than scaling a mountain; her facial muscles were so stiff it was obvious she was faking it.

Tang Ling found her a few tutorials online about smiling naturally and had her practice with a mirror. Cheng sat quietly on the couch, phone in one hand and a small mirror in the other, earnestly following along.

Fang Zhizi, on the other hand, was nowhere near as quiet. She clung to Tang Ling like a sticky rice cake, chattering nonstop.

“Tang Ling-jie, what kind of photos did you and Shiyi-jie take this morning after we left?” she asked, eyes full of curiosity.

Tang Ling’s cheeks flushed. “That’s adult business. Don’t be so nosy, kid.”

The words had barely left her mouth when she felt a strange gaze on her.

She turned and locked eyes with Cheng Qingyan.

Tang Ling blinked. “What is it?”

Cheng quickly looked back down at her phone. “Nothing.”

The long day of practice finally ended. After dinner, Tang Ling rested in her dorm for a bit, then got ready to go find Tan Shiyi.

Just as she was about to leave, she noticed Cheng Qingyan watching her again, that same hesitant, unreadable look in her eyes.

It wasn’t the first time Tang Ling had caught her doing this. Cheng had this habit of staring at her—openly, intensely, and without any explanation—and it was starting to make her uncomfortable.

Tang Ling frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that again? What’s going on?”

Cheng lowered her head. “It’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then stop staring at me.” Tang Ling stepped closer. “If you’re still struggling with expression control and want help, just say so.”

Cheng’s gaze flickered. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? What could you possibly be hiding from me?”

After a long pause, Cheng bit her lip, raised her head, and asked softly, “You’re going to see Tan Shiyi, right?”

“Yeah,” Tang Ling nodded. “She asked me to discuss the performance details. Why?”

Cheng hesitated, then blurted out, “You two, you’re not actually dating, are you?”

Tang Ling froze for a second before bursting into laughter. “What? Of course not. Where did you get that idea?”

Cheng’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s just, you two seem really close. The atmosphere between you feels different from everyone else.”

Tang Ling waved it off. “You’re overthinking it. And besides, our group has a no-dating rule. Not to mention—Shiyi’s way out of my league. Why would she ever look at me like that?”

Cheng said quietly, “You’re actually really great.”

Tang Ling grinned. “I think so too. But I’m still a bit short of Shiyi’s standards, haha.”

After all, Tan Shiyi’s type was clearly someone like Pu Xiaoyu—elegant, capable, and refined.

Cheng asked, “But do you like her?”

Tang Ling scratched her head. “Like? I guess she’s a great person, sure. Why, don’t tell me you like Tan Shiyi?”

“I don’t,” Cheng said quickly. “Just curious.”

Good, Tang Ling thought. Don’t you go falling for Tan Shiyi, or you’ll just get caught up in Pu Xiaoyu’s mess again.

She patted Cheng on the shoulder. “Focus on your performance for now, okay? Don’t waste your energy on silly crushes. Just make sure you pass the third public stage first, got it?”

Cheng nodded obediently. “Got it.”

Outside the door, Tan Shiyi had heard enough.

She had only come to tell Tang Ling that she’d caught a cold from that morning’s photoshoot in the damp shirt and wanted to cancel their evening discussion. But when she reached the dorm, she’d overheard everything.

She stood there for a long moment before quietly swiping her keycard and slipping into her room, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

She had expected this outcome—had known all along that Tang Ling didn’t feel anything special for her—but hearing it with her own ears still left a hollow ache in her chest.

She let out a faint sigh, almost hating herself for it. The incident that day had long since passed, and Tang Ling had clearly moved on.

So why was she still trapped there, unable to let go?

She looked at the proposal on the table, prepared specially for Tang Ling’s visit, then swept her gaze around the room that had been carefully tidied for the same reason. At last, her eyes landed on her own reflection in the mirror.

Her hair, seemingly casual yet deliberately styled; the training uniform she’d worn over a body-hugging camisole dress chosen specifically to flatter her figure.

Everything she had done suddenly felt ridiculous, almost laughable.

How pathetic, she thought. Pretending to be composed, pretending to be strong—when in truth, she was just a young woman who also wanted to act spoiled, to be soft and vulnerable in front of someone she liked.

Tan Shiyi let out a deep sigh and collapsed face-down onto the bed.

Before long, someone knocked at the door.

She pulled the blanket over her head, unwilling to respond.

Outside, Tang Ling called softly, “Shiyi? Shiyi, are you in there?”

No answer.

Tang Ling muttered to herself, “That’s strange, if she’s not in her room at this hour, where else could she be?”

Realization struck Tan Shiyi like a jolt—if she didn’t open the door now, Tang Ling might really leave. She took a deep breath, sat up abruptly, and hurried to the door, not caring that her hair was a mess.

Tang Ling was startled. “What’s wrong? Your face is so red!”

Tan Shiyi rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I wasn’t feeling well and must’ve fallen asleep.”

“You’re not feeling well? Don’t tell me you caught a chill from wearing that wet shirt earlier,” Tang Ling said, pressing a hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up! Where’s your thermometer?”

Every room in the dorm had an emergency kit with basic medicine and a thermometer.

Only when Tang Ling mentioned it did Tan Shiyi realize she was shivering a little. She tightened the outer layer of her training jacket. “In the cabinet over there.”

Tang Ling closed the door behind her, walked to the cabinet, and pulled out the first-aid box. After disinfecting the thermometer, she said casually, “Uh, you want to take it yourself?”

Tan Shiyi took it from her and quietly slipped it under her clothes.

The air fell still.

She sat there, hugging her shoulders, head lowered, lost in thought.

Tang Ling couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “You’re not going to sit down?”

Tan Shiyi looked at her, then obediently went to the chair and sat.

On the table lay the performance plan.

Tang Ling picked it up, pulled over another chair, and began reading line by line.

“Oh, so this is how it’s structured. I think that works. Here, this is where the real voice transitions to falsetto, right? Xiao Rong shouldn’t have any trouble with that, but here—this dance move for Fang Zhizi might be too difficult. Hand me a pen, I’ll mark it.”

She continued flipping through the pages. “And these few parts—we can probably cut them. You’ve packed too many technical elements into this song. It’s supposed to be a light, sweet tune. It doesn’t need to be so crammed with details.”

Tang Ling annotated as she talked, sharing her thoughts in her usual calm, analytical tone. Tan Shiyi leaned in close, listening intently.

When they finally reached the last page, Tang Ling suddenly remembered. “Wait, time’s up—where’s your thermometer?”

Tan Shiyi froze, then blinked and pulled it out. “I forgot.”

“Let me see.” Tang Ling took it naturally from her hand, held it up to the light, and turned the mercury column. “Thirty-nine point two degrees? That high? If I hadn’t asked, were you not going to notice?”

Tan Shiyi’s mind was hazy, her thoughts sluggish. She blinked dazedly at Tang Ling and murmured a faint “Mm.”

“‘Mm,’ she says,” Tang Ling muttered, half exasperated, half amused. “Come on, lie down. I’ll make you some medicine.”

Tan Shiyi lowered her eyes and obediently lay back on the bed, shrugging off her training jacket before curling up beneath the blanket.

Tang Ling mixed a packet of fever-reducing granules into a cup of warm water, then brought it to the bedside. She blew gently on it and held it out. “Be good. Open your mouth.”

Tan Shiyi did as told. The bitter taste made her frown.

“Not good, huh? Well, bitter medicine works best. You’ll feel better soon.”

She downed the rest in one go. Tang Ling brushed the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand to wipe away a bit of spilled liquid.

“Good girl.”

Setting the cup down, Tang Ling stood. “Get some rest. I won’t bother you anymore. We can go over the performance once you’re feeling better—there’s still time.”

Tan Shiyi didn’t reply, just looked up at her with eyes too soft, too earnest.

The intensity of that gaze made Tang Ling’s heart skip. She quickly looked away. “I’ll close the door for you, then. Do you want the lights off?”

Tan Shiyi shook her head.

“Alright, then. I’ll get going.”

Tang Ling turned the doorknob and behind her, Tan Shiyi’s voice came, low and trembling:

“Can you not go?”