After Being Bound to the Scummy Alpha System, I Became Famous Thanks to My Face Blindness - Chapter 29

“I’ve seen her play the piano before,” Cheng Qingyan said. “Do you remember that grand piano in the hall where we registered? I was standing in line and happened to see her play a few notes with one hand. Her fingering was way too practiced for someone who doesn’t know the instrument.”

Tang Ling thought back for a moment. Tan Shiyi had indeed told her she’d never had the chance to learn any instruments, that she was completely inexperienced in that area. “Are you sure it was her? You’d just arrived at the time—maybe you mistook her for someone else?”

“No way. She was already really popular online back then. I’d seen her videos before, so I recognized her right away.”

“Then, maybe she had her reasons? No, that doesn’t make sense either.” Tang Ling frowned, unable to make sense of it. She decided it was most likely a misunderstanding. “Forget it. Let’s not overthink it. I’ll just ask her tomorrow.”

“You’re meeting again tomorrow?” Cheng Qingyan’s tone sank a little.

“Yeah,” Tang Ling replied naturally. “I promised to teach her. We’ll have team training during the day, and I’ll meet her afterward in the evening.”

Cheng Qingyan hesitated, then blurted out, “You’re an Alpha, and she’s an Omega. Aren’t you afraid people will start gossiping if you keep meeting at night like that?”

Tang Ling chuckled. “It’s not like I’m not already used to being gossiped about. Forget the CP fans—even Jiang Manli keeps teasing me about it. I’m immune by now.”

Cheng Qingyan pressed her lips together and said nothing more.

But the next night, Tang Ling never got the chance to give Tan Shiyi her private lesson.

A sudden notice arrived: in two days, Corona, one of the sponsors of the Beidou Star Training Program, would be holding a product launch event for their new smartphone. The seven team captains were invited to perform the first-stage theme song, “Starlit Whispers,” live at the event. Anyone who purchased the new model could use their exclusive serial number to attend a handshake session with their chosen idol.

This meant all seven captains had to schedule urgent rehearsals on top of their usual team training. Unfortunately, the new practice hours clashed directly with Tang Ling’s nightly lesson plans.

By this stage of the competition, the captains all knew the truth: the rankings wouldn’t change much anymore. The final debut lineup would almost certainly come from the current top contenders.

That was precisely why this performance mattered—it was a golden opportunity to attract more fans, boost visibility, and solidify their popularity.

When the meeting ended, the girls began chattering excitedly:

“Didn’t expect we’d get a chance to perform together again!”

“Right? We’ve never even been in the same team before!”

“We’re doing ‘Starlit Whispers,’ right? Then we’ll need to completely rework the choreography and positions!”

During the original performance, eighty trainees had danced separately with no group interaction. Now that it was just seven of them, a major re-choreograph was inevitable.

Tang Ling could neither remember most of the girls’ names nor tell them apart. To avoid awkward small talk, she simply found Tan Shiyi—identifiable by her hair color—and stood quietly beside her.

Her subtle choice didn’t go unnoticed. One girl suddenly gasped like she’d uncovered a secret. “Hey, have you noticed Tang and Shiyi are always together? Maybe we should make them the center positions!”

Another girl immediately agreed. “Yeah! They’re definitely the most popular pair among us. If they take the center, it’ll look amazing!”

Tan Shiyi quickly shook her head. “I don’t think that’s appropriate. Based on our rankings, Tang Ling and I aren’t even among the top vote-getters. If we both stand center, people might think we’re trying to stir up hype. The audience might not take it well.”

“Well, that makes sense, but at least give the fans something! You two can hold hands, make some eye contact, something cute. A little fanservice never hurts!”

Tan Shiyi glanced at Tang Ling. “I don’t mind.”

Tang Ling smiled. “Then I’ll play along.”

Performance Day.

The girls put on the same navy-blue sequin outfits they’d worn for their first-stage performance, shimmering brilliantly under the July sun.

Since they were only performing one song, they arrived that morning for rehearsal. They’d expected a small makeshift stage inside the exhibition hall—something casual, like a comic convention. But when they got there, they were stunned. The brand had gone all out: the upper floor of the venue housed a fully equipped livehouse. The sense of ceremony instantly elevated the whole event.

The livehouse was professional-grade, complete with high-end sound and lighting systems. The girls, giddy with excitement, couldn’t resist fiddling with the instruments onstage, especially since their next round would involve live musical performances.

Tan Shiyi naturally picked up a guitar resting nearby, plucked a few chords, then turned her head to look at Tang Ling.

Tang Ling gave her a thumbs-up, then remembered what Cheng Qingyan had said the day before. She asked, testing the waters, “You play guitar too? Do you know any other instruments?”

Tan Shiyi blinked. “No. Why do you ask?”

Tang Ling thought, So Cheng Qingyan really did mistake someone else for her. She dropped the topic lightly. “Nothing. Just curious.”

After the rehearsal, the girls waited backstage for the show to start.

The audience began to file into the livehouse, filling the once-empty space with buzzing energy. Excited fans shouted the girls’ names from the crowd.

One trainee peeked through the curtain, whispering in awe, “They even brought banners and lightsticks! They actually came here just for us!”

The performance announcement had only gone public two days earlier, so the fact that fans managed to prepare merchandise and show up in person was genuinely moving.

“Alright, are we ready to go on?”

“Let’s do it!”

The seven captains, representing the very best of Beidou Star, delivered an impeccable performance. Their vocals, choreography, and stage presence were perfectly in sync, setting off waves of cheers from the crowd.

Even those who had only come for the phone launch—drawn in out of curiosity—found themselves completely captivated by the energy of the stage.

As expected, the most attention naturally fell on Tang Ling and Tan Shiyi. Every time the two of them walked together to the center of the stage—sometimes just exchanging a glance—it would immediately trigger a wave of screams from the audience below.

Being able to interact with the crowd at such close range made the girls perform even more energetically.

After the performance ended, Du Zhen, who was currently ranked first in the voting, gave a brief closing speech. The girls then moved to the next venue for the handshake event.

The exhibition hall had been temporarily divided into seven lanes, one for each girl. Fans lined up in their chosen lane to shake hands, take photos, and receive exclusive merchandise.

Since time was limited, each product purchase came with only one serial code—meaning each fan could only queue once. So, everyone had to think carefully before deciding whose line to join.

Tang Ling originally thought that since she ranked seventh in votes, she wouldn’t have many fans waiting for her. But when she arrived, she was stunned to find that her queue was just as long as anyone else’s.

Still, a closer look revealed clear differences in the fan demographics. Most of Tang Ling’s supporters—regardless of gender—were Omegas, especially younger female Omegas. In contrast, Tan Shiyi’s line was packed with Alphas, mostly tall and broad-shouldered men.

A ripple of unease rose in Tang Ling’s chest. She couldn’t help worrying about leaving Tan Shiyi to deal with so many Alphas on her own.

She had heard stories before—about overly obsessive fans attacking their idols for strange, irrational reasons. Someone as straightforward, hardworking, and sincere as Tan Shiyi might easily attract that kind of unstable person.

Tang Ling’s eyes kept darting toward Tan Shiyi’s side of the room, subconsciously checking that everything was all right.

Tan Shiyi was handling herself well—shaking hands, chatting, taking photos with a natural smile. Everything looked normal.

Meanwhile, one of Tang Ling’s fans gave her a teasing grin. “A’ling, why do you keep looking over at Shishi? Are you jealous or something?”

Tang Ling replied with a deadpan expression, “Aren’t you still a student? Don’t you have class today? Instead of chasing idols, you should be studying properly, got it?”

The fan’s eyes sparkled. “A’ling, you sound so much like a dad right now. It’s actually kind of hot—I think I like you even more.”

Tang Ling: “…”

So, the strange fans were right in front of her after all.

The next in line was a delicate-looking male Omega. His lashes were lowered, and his expression was soft and obedient.

The moment he saw Tang Ling, he began to stammer, “A’ling, do you still remember me? I’ve been your fan since Bloom for You. I went to your birthday events last year and the year before. I love every one of your works, and I’ll always keep supporting you!”

Bloom for You—that was the first talent show her original self had joined. So, this was indeed a long-time fan.

Tang Ling smiled at him. “Thank you for your continued support.”

The boy’s expression dimmed slightly. “You don’t remember me.”

On Tan Shiyi’s side, a broad-shouldered man was chatting loudly, his deep voice carrying all the way over. Tang Ling’s attention was instinctively drawn to the noise—she couldn’t help glancing over twice. “Sorry, what did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

The boy smiled faintly. “It’s nothing. Let’s just take a picture together.”

He stepped forward, trying to link his arm with hers. Tang Ling froze and quickly pulled back. “Sorry, but we’re not allowed to have physical contact with fans.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured softly.

They took their places for the photo. The male Omega was quite petite, and Tang Ling towered over him.

Sensing his disappointment, she placed her right hand lightly on his shoulder—a small gesture of comfort.

The staff raised the Polaroid camera. “Okay, move a little closer—smile!”

Tang Ling lifted her head and gave a professional smile to the lens.

She was so focused on the camera that she didn’t notice the boy’s hand slipping into his pocket—until a sharp cry broke through the air.

The staff screamed, and only then did Tang Ling see the glint of metal. She tried to jerk away, but it was too late.

Blood gushed from her right arm, spilling fast and bright until it stained the floor beneath her feet.

The boy, clearly inexperienced, seemed terrified by his own actions—he hadn’t even dared aim for a vital spot.

But the other spectators didn’t know that. All they saw was the shocking red of blood—and chaos instantly erupted.

“Ah! There’s blood!”

“Someone’s been stabbed!”

The scene dissolved into panic. Fans screamed and fled in all directions; the barriers toppled one after another. Security guards rushed in, tackling the boy to the ground.

The attacker craned his neck toward Tang Ling and shouted hoarsely, “Everything you said was a lie! You never cared about us fans!”

Tang Ling stared dumbly at her bleeding arm. The event had unfolded so suddenly that she hadn’t even felt pain yet—just confusion.

She had been attacked?

She lifted her arm. Thankfully, she could still move it—it didn’t seem to have hit bone or tendon. But she had no idea how to treat it. She just stood there, dazed.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tan Shiyi sprinting toward her. Panic and fear filled the girl’s face, her eyes glistening with tears on the verge of falling.

“A’ling! Are you okay? You’re not hurt badly, are you?”