Her Majesty The Empress Has Made Her Debut In The Center Position [Ancient to Modern] - Chapter 14
Two minutes later, in Dorm 309.
Having devoured the drumstick in her left hand, Chen Xingzi wiped her mouth. “So you really didn’t turn in the tablet! But why didn’t you leave the charger behind?”
Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng answered in unison: “The charger?”
Chen Xingzi jumped in surprise. “Y-yeah!” She patted her chest. “Why did you both react so dramatically? You scared me half to death. Yu Cheng, I heard you can break bricks with your bare hands. Is that true?”
Yu Cheng hummed absentmindedly, apologizing to Ji Zhao. “I thought the tangled cords were useless, so I turned them in.”
Chen Xingzi gasped. “It’s actually true! Where did you learn that? Shaolin or Wudang?”
Ji Zhao said, “It’s not your fault. I never thought those things would be useful either. We’ve been using them for so long without ever bothering to understand them properly. That’s my mistake.”
Chen Xingzi raised her hand. “Um… what exactly are you talking about? Do you want this drumstick? It’s common sense that phones need to be charged, even a three-year-old knows that!”
Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng’s gazes landed on her at the same time.
Chen Xingzi’s heart skipped a beat as she offered the drumstick. “Here, it’s the last one. I was going to sneak it, but roommates should stick together. Who wants it?”
Ji Zhao shook her head. “No need.”
Chen Xingzi quickly withdrew the offer.
Ji Zhao asked, “Where’s the charger?”
“In the Staff Manager’s room, of course!” Chen Xingzi took a bite of the drumstick. “Good thing I labeled the bags separately, or we would have mixed them up. Are you planning to steal it?”
“Steal?” Yu Cheng frowned. “That’s not the act of a gentleman.”
Chen Xingzi asked, “Then how will you charge it?”
Ji Zhao said, “Taking back what’s yours isn’t stealing.”
She turned to Chen Xingzi. “You went back to the dorm, ate your chicken leg, and left. You didn’t run into Yu Cheng or me, and you had no idea we were hiding the tablet.”
Chen Xingzi blinked.
“Yu Cheng is self-taught,” Ji Zhao said.
Chen Xingzi shivered, realizing Ji Zhao was answering her earlier question about whether Yu Cheng learned Shaolin or Wudang techniques. She quickly nodded vigorously. “That chicken leg was delicious!”
Ji Zhao smiled. “Then enjoy it while you can.”
Now that Yu Cheng knew where the charger was, retrieving it took only minutes. By the time the afternoon gathering was called, the tablet was already charging in the Dorm 309 bathroom.
After once again marveling at modern technology, Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng went to the convenience store to buy bread and coffee.
The store was run by the production team, symmetrically placed opposite the small wooden house Ji Zhao had visited earlier when she contacted the organizers. The rustic log cabin design featured a hollowed-out section of wall beside the door for an outward-facing window. Inside, a sausage grill emitted tantalizing aromas, while outside stood a small bar with tall stools that could seat three.
The store didn’t accept cash. Trainees earned exchange vouchers by completing tasks assigned by the production team, which they could then use to purchase items.
Ji Zhao liked coffee, so Yu Cheng exchanged quite a few coffee vouchers with other trainees.
She placed them on the bar. “Hot Americano or latte?”
Ji Zhao: “…What’s the difference between a hot Americano and herbal medicine?”
Yu Cheng paused before saying, “Your Majesty has always hated taking medicine. Is it because you hate the bitterness?”
Ji Zhao’s face darkened. “You know too much!”
She picked up the small coffee cup and walked down the path toward the Practice Building.
The first performance task was a group competition. The estate had plenty of rooms, enough to give each group a practice room, though some were bigger than others. Group A of “The Puppet Show” had chosen a relatively large one. When Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng arrived, Song Jiangjiang and Qiao Yue were standing at opposite ends of the practice room, shouting across the space.
Song Jiangjiang: “There really is an echo in here!”
Qiao Yue said, “Don’t slow down your words like that—it sounds like a haunted house…” As her voice trailed off, “haunted house” still echoed in the practice room, lingering until only “house” remained, its ethereal echo chilling the air and dropping the room’s temperature by a couple of degrees.
Shen Xin sat cross-legged by the window, her face dark. “You sound even more haunted!”
Song Jiangjiang shrugged. “Just for the show effect, you know.”
Ji Zhao casually asked, “What did she say?”
Qiao Yue: “……”
Uh, mentioning the wage dispute and how you had to pack up and leave? That might not be the best topic.
Ji Zhao didn’t think much of it. Pei Jia, being socially skilled, had been snatched up by another group during the Captain selection process, so they hadn’t ended up in the same team. Though she hadn’t had a chance to warn Pei Jia, she wasn’t particularly worried.
Half a minute later, Group A of “The Puppet Show” sat down again for their second team meeting.
Song Jiangjiang suggested, “Should we give our team a name?”
Qiao Yue said, “How about the Puppet Group?”
Ji Zhao focused on the key point. “So ‘The Puppet Show’ is about puppet theater?”
Qiao Yue hummed in agreement. “I think so.”
Ji Zhao murmured, “In the late Southern Song dynasty, puppet theater was immensely popular in the capital as a form of entertainment. At that time, A Dream of Splendor in the Eastern Capital documented various types, including rod puppets, string puppets, and firework puppets.”
“Wow, you did your homework really thoroughly!” Song Jiangjiang exclaimed.
When she first heard the song title, Ji Zhao had guessed it was either about puppet theater or shadow play. Both performance forms existed in the Great Qi Dynasty, with performances during festivals, and they were familiar with them.
But—
Ji Zhao asked, “Puppet Group? Does that mean we’re all puppets?”
Song Jiangjiang pondered. “Why does that sound so weird?”
Qiao Yue said, “Puppets are controlled by strings, but actually, I want to be the string…”
Shen Xin snapped, “Can’t we just be people?!”
In the end, “Perfect Pair” was chosen as the team name with an overwhelming five votes to one. Shen Xin, the sole dissenter, was deeply disgruntled. “Who’s the perfect pair with who?”
Song Jiangjiang wrapped an arm around Qiao Yue. “Me and Yueyue, of course!”
Ji Zhao: “……”
Yu Cheng: “……”
Shen Xin: “……”
Zheng Dongqing: “……”
Song Jiangjiang: “The disdain from our opponents is one thing, but the silence from our own teammates is far more disheartening!”
Zheng Dongqing, who had suggested the team name, had drawn inspiration from song lyrics. She sneezed, her allergies still lingering, leaving her looking frail and unwell. “Should we choose the Center Position first?”
Ji Zhao gave her a curious look.
Zheng Dongqing was the trainee whose family were investors. Earlier, her grandfather had tried to secure her the Initial Center position, but Cheng Feiwan had rejected the request. When Zheng Dongqing found out, she had also approached the production team. Though her skills weren’t exceptional, her character and personality were widely praised.
Ji Zhao was impressed, her gaze softening as she looked at Zheng Dongqing. “No rush. Let’s listen to the song first.”
Zheng Dongqing appreciated calm and stable people. Though she didn’t fully understand the meaning behind Ji Zhao’s gaze, she nodded along. “I really like this song, but it’s definitely difficult to sing.”
She loved it deeply, yet felt compelled to keep her distance.
They plugged the USB drive provided by the production team into the TV. Inside was a single file: a video of the dance choreographed by the team based on the song. The routine was complex and challenging, with room for improvement.
After watching the entire dance, Qiao Yue whispered, “This is way too hard.”
She leaned back in her seat. “I’m dropping out of the Center Position competition. There’s no way I can learn such a difficult dance in such a short time…” Before her teammates could respond, she explained, “That’s why I was transferred from Class B to Class F.”
Her slow nature and poor stress tolerance meant she could improve with enough time and practice. But with a deadline looming, the pressure overwhelmed her, preventing her from performing well.
“I’m dropping out too,” Shen Xin said. “I specialize in rap, and this stage isn’t suited for me to be the Center.”
Zheng Dongqing quietly stepped back. “I’m not adapting well. My body can’t handle it.”
“I’m also dropping out,” Ji Zhao said.
The group fell silent. Finally, Song Jiangjiang couldn’t hold back. “What are your reasons?”
Ji Zhao hummed in confusion. “Do we really need a reason?”
Song Jiangjiang: “……”
Well, not exactly, but everyone else has already spoken, and not saying anything would make you seem out of place!
Seeing her question go unanswered, Song Jiangjiang glanced around the room. “Wait, what? You all quit? So I’m the only one with career ambitions who wants to be the Center Position? Won’t that make me seem too opportunistic? Come on, guys! This is a competition show! Winning like this doesn’t feel right… Huh? Yu Cheng, why are you raising your hand?”
“I’m running for class rep,” Yu Cheng announced.
Shen Xin voiced everyone’s confusion: “What makes you think you have a chance?”
Ji Zhao answered: “She knows Lightness Skill.”
Song Jiangjiang: “……”
This is ridiculous!
Support
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
