After Being Bound to the Scummy Alpha System, I Became Famous Thanks to My Face Blindness - Chapter 3

When the holidays ended, The Big Dipper Star-Making Project kicked off its next training camp.

The moment Tang Ling arrived at the filming site and saw a sea of pink-and-white training uniforms stretching as far as the eye could see, she once again deeply realized the hell she had entered.

A hundred and twenty nearly identical faces filled her vision—enough to make her trypophobia act up on the spot.

Tang Ling edged closer to the only familiar face she could recognize, Jiang Manli, silently praying in her heart: Thank you, Harry Winston.

In most idol survival shows, trainees wear name tags for the convenience of both mentors and viewers. But not The Big Dipper Star-Making Project.

Their philosophy was: No distinctiveness, no name. If a trainee couldn’t charm the mentors with her own presence, she didn’t deserve to be called by name at all.

And the person who suffered most from this rule was—of course—Tang Ling.

Because she was face-blind.

In her original world, her prosopagnosia had always limited her social circle.

Since kindergarten, she’d been branded a “weirdo” for never recognizing her classmates’ faces, and as a result, she never had any friends.

Things got a bit better in primary school—students wore name badges and sat in assigned seats, which reduced mistakes. But even then, she was often criticized for walking past classmates on the street without greeting them.

Even at home, Tang Ling could clearly sense her parents’ indifference toward her. They were always more affectionate toward her younger sister, Tang Jia.

All through high school, she had never known parental warmth, had never had a true friend, and had never experienced a sweet, youthful romance.

Then, somehow, she ended up transmigrating into this world.

But perhaps that was why she didn’t feel much attachment to the old one.

Today’s recording session featured three mentors:

Pan Qingchen, the show’s founder and a member of a wildly popular boy group;

Meng Bingxia, a first-generation idol from a legendary girl group;

and Xu Xizhao, a renowned variety show host.

All three were top-tier figures in idol culture with impeccable professional credentials.

Their task was to assess the trainees’ mastery of the debut performance song and then test their musicality and creativity by giving them a random track to improvise to.

The forty lowest-ranked trainees would be immediately eliminated, losing their chance to appear in the first stage performance.

Brutal didn’t even begin to describe it.

Tang Ling and Jiang Manli both advanced through the preliminary assessment, but their rankings weren’t high enough—they were classified as potential trainees.

The top ten scorers were appointed as team leaders. Each leader would select members from the potential group, while those not chosen could counter-pick to form temporary teams.

It went without saying—Tan Shiyi was a leader.

Just as that thought passed through her mind, a scene from the original storyline slammed into Tang Ling’s head. She closed her eyes helplessly.

Here we go again.

[Scene: Makeup Room]

In front of everyone, the original Tang Ling had sauntered over to Tan Shiyi, twirling a strand of her freshly curled hair around her finger.

“Looking gorgeous today, aren’t you?”

Tan Shiyi’s expression shifted. She stood up. “What do you want?”

Tang Ling had smiled like a blooming flower. “Don’t be so tense. I just wanted to ask—can I join your team? You wouldn’t reject me, right?”

Tan Shiyi took a deep breath. “I already have someone in mind.”

But Tang Ling had cut her off, still smiling—like a beautiful, poisonous serpent flicking out her tongue.

“Tan Shiyi, you won’t refuse me, will you?”

What came after didn’t need repeating. The original Tang Ling had harassed Tan Shiyi publicly, going into heat in front of everyone—doing things that were less human than beastly.

Overwhelmed, Tan Shiyi’s performance had plummeted. She’d been criticized by mentors and targeted by antis online.

Tang Ling inhaled deeply. No way. Absolutely not again. Tan Shiyi must not suffer even a single bit because of me. Threats? Intimidation? Screw that!

She followed Jiang Manli to the waiting area and, putting on an air of casual curiosity, asked,

“Where’s Tan Shiyi? Haven’t seen her.”

Jiang Manli chuckled. “She’s right there, first row. You blind or what?”

Relief flooded Tang Ling’s chest. Thank god—she was sitting all the way in the front, sixth row away from her. Safe distance.

The recording began.

The usual giggles and chatter of the trainees vanished, replaced by solemn concentration. With forty people about to be eliminated, no one could afford to slip up.

Each trainee drew lots to determine their performance order.

Tang Ling drew number 36—still within the earlier half.

Scores were given live, with real-time ranking updates. The first elimination would be decided once trainee #81 finished performing. And since the half-day schedule was grueling, the later one performed, the more exhausted—and anxious—they became.

Tan Shiyi drew number 107.

The evaluation officially began.

The debut performance song, “Starlit Whispers,” was a bright, dreamlike track—perfect for girls with a sweet-and-cool image.

One by one, the trainees took the stage.

During the May Day holiday, everyone had trained hard; most managed to perform “Starlit Whispers” decently. The real difference came in the second test—the random track challenge, which demanded strong adaptability.

Soon, it was Tang Ling’s turn.

Her random track was a Japanese-style vaporwave—retro, groovy, demanding both strength and flexibility.

Fortunately, while the original Tang Ling had been a scumbag, she wasn’t untalented. Combined with Tang Ling’s newly acquired abs and sculpted chest, her posture and muscle control were excellent. Guided by muscle memory, she delivered a clean, rhythmic routine and passed the test smoothly.

In the original plot, Tan Shiyi had drawn a reggae track—fiery, uninhibited, and full of rhythmic swings. Usually seen as calm and aloof, she stunned everyone with a bold, sensual performance that incorporated advanced choreography moves, earning unanimous praise from the mentors.

Tang Ling: Honestly, I kind of want to see that.

Finally, it was Tan Shiyi’s turn.

She stepped onstage and bowed politely to the mentors before signaling the staff to start the music.

As the beat kicked in, she lowered her head, her calf tapping to the rhythm.

Then—an explosive body wave rippled through her frame, like a tidal surge rolling across her skin.

The next second, she lifted her head and smiled—bright and devastating.

The watching trainees collectively gasped, “Whoa.”

Tang Ling’s heart skipped a beat.

As the rhythm flowed, Tan Shiyi moved with effortless fluidity—hips twisting, handstands, windmills. Her body radiated raw energy; every motion burned with passion and intensity.

Sweat beaded along her forehead, a peachy flush blooming across her cheeks.

By this point in the evaluation, the energy in the spectator area had clearly waned. But Tan Shiyi’s performance was like a spark that reignited the entire hall—girls started clapping along to her rhythm, some even stood up and moved with her.

She ended her dance with a fluid upper-body wave, spinning gracefully to face away.

When she turned back around, she was once again the composed, courteous Tan Shiyi—cool, elegant, and reserved.

Thunderous applause filled the air. The girls in the spectator seats called out her name, some even rushing down to greet her.

Tan Shiyi walked back calmly, looking up to offer the audience a shy, gentle smile—poised and radiant.

Tang Ling unconsciously licked her lips.

She couldn’t help recalling that night’s Tan Shiyi.

Dynamic. Seductive. Graceful. Sweet. Restrained. Alluring in every sense.

No wonder she was the author’s designated heroine—she truly shone so brightly it was hard to look away.

After a full four hours, the first round of performances finally came to an end.

As the saying goes, some rejoiced while others despaired—behind the stage, a few eliminated girls had already broken into tears.

Those who advanced exhaled in relief, but none dared to relax. The next round in the afternoon would be another brutal battle.

In the second performance, the two least popular members of the bottom five teams would be eliminated. In other words, which team one joined was crucial.

At this early stage, the trainees weren’t yet familiar with one another, so team selections mostly depended on morning performance scores and personal initiative.

After lunch, the most nerve-wracking moment arrived—the team selections.

Potential trainees sat in the waiting area, craning their necks expectantly.

“Ling-jie, which team do you want to join? Oh, I know—you’re aiming for Tan Shiyi’s team, right? Want me to help you make some connections?” Jiang Manli nudged Tang Ling with a teasing grin.

“Spare me,” Tang Ling replied flatly. “I’m not interested in her anymore.”

“Yeah, right,” Jiang Manli snorted. “Your eyes were practically glued to her during that performance. I don’t think anyone else in the audience was watching her as seriously as you. Not gonna lie, though—she was pretty hot.”

Tang Ling: “…”

Was she really that obvious?

Jiang Manli kept rambling, “I’m telling you, I am not joining Li Wei’s team. That chick and I are oil and water. Lu Yao’s a sweetheart, though—I like her, even if she’s a bit too skinny. No curves, probably not comfy to hug. Honestly, I’d rather team up with you. We’ve known each other for years—it just feels right, you know?”

Tang Ling thought to herself, Maybe stop being so picky. It’s not like anyone’s dying to recruit you.

And indeed, that was the case. Neither of them had particularly high scores, and both had reputations that made others wary. Most people didn’t dare provoke the two notorious heiresses.

After everyone else had been picked over, the two of them were still sitting pitifully in the waiting zone.

Jiang Manli frowned in disbelief. “No way—don’t tell me I’ve lost all my charm?”

Tang Ling deadpanned, “Be confident. You never had any to begin with.”

The next pick went to Tan Shiyi.

She glanced at her team lineup. There were only two open slots left, but so far, the group consisted of four Betas and two Omegas—no Alphas at all. Such a team composition would definitely be at a disadvantage later on.

Her gaze landed on Tang Ling.

Setting aside Tang Ling’s questionable morals, her technical skill was actually solid. She had strong fundamentals and was a power-style dancer. Working together might even create an unexpected spark.

If only she didn’t have to look at that face.

There weren’t many Alphas left in the pool. After a brief hesitation, Tan Shiyi finally spoke. “I choose Tang Ling.”

Tang Ling froze, caught completely off guard. “Huh?”

“Would you like to team up with me?” Tan Shiyi asked calmly.

Why her? Tang Ling hadn’t even tried to manipulate her this time.

She quickly declined, “Maybe not. Our styles don’t really match.”

“All right,” Tan Shiyi nodded. “I understand.”

As she sat back down, Tang Ling suddenly heard Xiao Nan’s voice echo in her mind:

“Congratulations, Host! You’ve earned 3 Scummy-A Points!”

Tang Ling: “?”

“Wait!” she called out to Tan Shiyi. “What if I say I do want to join you?”

Tan Shiyi paused, then looked at her deeply and stood up. “Welcome to the team.”

The system chimed again in Tang Ling’s head:

Boop! “Congratulations, Host! You’ve earned another 3 Scummy-A Points!”

Tang Ling: “…”

So, what exactly counted as not being a scummy Alpha?

Great. The risk of picking up “trash” just went up again.