After Dissing The Aloof Omega In A Talent Show - Chapter 1

[Ding! System Activating.]

A sudden buzzing in her mind made Ming Tang furrow her brows.

That voice had appeared again.

Two years ago, she had fallen into a coma and was hospitalized during her “differentiation.” The moment she opened her eyes, an extremely unfamiliar electronic voice echoed in her head.

[Successfully bound to host: Ming Tang.]

But after dropping that single sentence, it vanished completely, leading Ming Tang to believe it was merely a hallucination brought on by post-differentiation tinnitus.

[Activation Successful. Hello, Host. I am Love System No. 521.]

Ming Tang: ?

She bolted upright so suddenly that the makeup artist behind her accidentally yanked her hair, causing her to hunch back down in pain.

“Hiss…”

“Don’t move around! I’m trying to do your hair,” the makeup artist said, her voice laced with the exhaustion of dealing with an uncooperative client.

Ming Tang was forced to maintain her original posture, suffering in silence. “Sorry, my bad.”

A Love System? Is that something a trainee should be hearing?

[Detected that you have entered the recording site of “Moment of Destiny.” Mission trigger conditions met. Preparing to issue task.]

Before Ming Tang could digest the previous sentences, the system acted as if it had been holding its breath for two years, dumping information all at once.

[Today’s Mission: During the interview segment, question Chi Ling’s debut stage performance.]

With the system’s voice echoing in her skull, Ming Tang felt her vision go dark.

“Chi Ling?”

It was already a fluke that she was participating in this survival show. She intended to just “slack off” and live by her philosophy: “Hard work doesn’t guarantee success, but not working hard is definitely relaxing.” Why on earth was she being told to critique someone else’s performance on camera?

And the target was Chi Ling, of all people.

She wanted to be a “salted fish” (slacker), not get torn to shreds by netizens!

Ming Tang tried to reason with the system. “Do you even know who Chi Ling is?”

The system answered instantly, its voice flat like it was reading a Wikipedia entry.

[Chi Ling: Former member of the top-tier girl group ‘Aetheria’ under Huayin Entertainment. Her singing and dancing skills far exceed her peers, allowing her to achieve cross generational debut success.]

“And what about me?”

[Ming Tang: Fifth generation trainee under Huayin Entertainment. Famous ‘Slacker Champion.’ Talentless in both singing and dancing.]

Ming Tang fell silent.

While she didn’t expect the system to be flattering, this was brutally honest. She let out a soft sigh.

Although she and Chi Ling were technically under the same label, Chi Ling had already terminated her contract and left the group following a scandal before Ming Tang even woke up. Therefore, Ming Tang had never actually met this “senior” who was always at the center of a storm.

Everything she knew about Chi Ling came from the company’s constant warnings: “Don’t learn from that ungrateful wolf, Chi Ling.”

“You know her level and you know my status, yet you want me to question her?”

The thought of herself, a consistent bottom-tier student in monthly evaluations, having the audacity to belittle Chi Ling’s debut stage made Ming Tang’s blood run cold. She wanted to be an invisible slacker, not destroy her future by becoming a person with more anti-fans than Chi Ling herself.

[If the Host fails to execute the mission on time, the system will generate a corresponding level of punishment based on the task.]

Ming Tang felt like she needed to pinch her own pressure points to stay conscious. How did this system manage to sound so “considerate” while issuing such coercive threats?

The system coldly displayed a list of punishments corresponding to different mission failure levels.

Ming Tang: …

She really couldn’t understand why she had been bound to this terrifying system. It seemed to be a system well-versed in “sadism.”

“Trainees from Songyu, Mengxiang, Huayin, and Star Factory, please head to the wings!”

A staff member’s shout snapped Ming Tang back to reality. As she stood up, that annoying voice echoed in her head again.

[It is a pleasure to work with you, Host.]

Ming Tang: …

You’re happy? Did you even ask if I wanted to work with you?!

For a “Love System,” it bound itself to a trainee without rhyme or reason, and the tasks had nothing to do with love. Why was it sabotaging the mission target instead?

She had been sent here by Huayin as a “bonus gift” to fill the numbers, she had no intention or chance of debuting. But now that this so-called Love System had appeared, it seemed she could no longer comfortably remain a “transparent” nobody.

Whether it was dissing a senior or “falling in love,” both were violations of “Idol Ethics.” She was going to get cursed out either way!

Exhausted, Ming Tang took a deep breath as she left the dressing room. Cameras, both hidden and obvious, awaited her. She adjusted her expression and followed the crowd toward the stage.

“Fortunately, she’s doing a solo debut stage. Otherwise, she’d drag us down.”

“Exactly. She’s carrying the Huayin Entertainment name, yet her singing and dancing are that bad… how does she have the nerve to come? I bet she’s a ‘one round and out’ at most.”

Ming Tang listened to the two girls in front of her. They weren’t lowering their voices; the comments were meant for her ears. She didn’t mind. The company only wanted her to show her face to the public so her “mediocrity” could highlight the “excellence” of her two teammates.

Ming Tang intentionally lagged half a step behind, distancing herself from her fellow trainees. Standing in the dark backstage, watching groups of trainees go up, she saw beams of stage light leaking through.

“Huayin Entertainment.”

The company logo appeared on the giant screen, and the announcer called their names. Ming Tang maintained a polite distance from the other two. Transitioning from the pitch-black backstage to the blindingly white stage, she squinted.

Gasps and exclamations erupted from the trainee seating area facing the stage. These trainees might not know the names of the girls standing there, but they certainly knew the reputation of Huayin Entertainment.

“That girl with short hair is so pretty!”

“She looks like a powerhouse performer.”

“Don’t be fooled… I heard she’s just a ‘vase’ (pretty but talentless)…”

“Ming Tang!”

Ignoring the chatter, Ming Tang stood still until she heard a crisp voice from above. She looked up and saw a few people in the seating area, one was jumping and waving at her.

It was Qiao Xiangshu.

Ming Tang’s best friend from their trainee days, Qiao had terminated her contract with Huayin six months ago and signed with Lingwen Media. Seeing a familiar face, Ming Tang ignored her two disdainful teammates and walked toward Qiao.

“I didn’t expect you to be here too.” Ming Tang glanced at Qiao’s chosen seat: Number 4. Only two rows were above her. She was certainly ambitious.

“Yeah, I was worried I’d be lonely, but then Huayin sent you!” Qiao Xiangshu smiled and inspected Ming Tang’s outfit. “By the way, why do you Alphas never like wearing skirts?”

Ming Tang looked down at her outfit, a distressed denim halter top paired with frayed, wide-leg trousers adorned with streamers. Her features were striking and vivid, she never limited herself to one style. As for not liking skirts that was nonsense. In her two years at Huayin, she had performed in skirts many times.

“That’s just an Alpha stereotype,” Ming Tang laughed helplessly. “This outfit just fits the stage I prepared.”

“Alright, stop blocking the way, others can’t get through.” Qiao Xiangshu pulled Ming Tang’s hand, signaling her to sit.

As she was pulled into the Number 5 seat, Ming Tang felt a pang of guilt. She was just here to slack off, how did she end up sitting in such a high-ranking spot?

The two trainees who looked down on her were now climbing the stairs, passing her without a glance and stopping right in front of the Number 1 seat.

The seat for Number 1 was the most spacious, large enough for two people to sit comfortably. Behind it stood a massive neon “1” light box, topped with a small “TOP” sign, a clear marker of its prestige.

“I told you, those two are aiming for the top,” Qiao Xiangshu whispered, leaning close to Ming Tang.

“That’s fine,” Ming Tang whispered back.

“How is that ‘fine’?”

“It’s fine because now no one will notice that the person in last place arrogantly sat in a debut-tier seat.”

Qiao Xiangshu didn’t care. “Give it a rest. You can fool others, but I was your roommate.”

Ming Tang hummed a laugh and looked away. Under the gaze of the crowd, someone finally sat in that top spot symbolizing strength and fame.

“Ah! Someone actually sat in the C-position!”

The crowd buzzed. Ming Tang didn’t look back; she only saw the faces of the young girls around her, filled with awe and hope. It wasn’t until the screen announced a new group that the focus shifted back to the stage.

Watching the groups perform, some nervous, some passionate. Ming Tang suddenly realized the view from the top was quite good.

Soon, all the trainees with companies had made their appearances, and the “debut seats” were full. The screen stopped scrolling logos and settled on a single line of text:

[Individual Trainee]

Seeing those words, Ming Tang couldn’t help but think of her mission target, the girl who, at the peak of her popularity, was accused of attacking teammates and betraying her group: Chi Ling.

“Individual Trainee, Chi Ling.”

Hearing the announcement, Ming Tang’s heart jolted. She snapped out of her thoughts and locked her eyes on the stage entrance, wanting to confirm if it was truly the person she imagined.

Out of the shadows stepped a slender figure. Her hair was half-tied, falling over her collarbones, adding a touch of elegance to her neck. She looked like a scattering of frost and snow, or the cold, clear light of the moon.

“Hello everyone, I am Chi Ling.”