Her Majesty The Empress Has Made Her Debut In The Center Position [Ancient to Modern] - Chapter 24

City A Stadium Plaza.

As one of City A’s free public recreational spaces, the plaza bustles with activity on weekends when the weather is clear. Skaters glide across the ice, kites soar overhead, parents escort children to the youth palace for lessons, and vendors set up their stalls. Even on rainy days, the plaza remains lively due to its proximity to the Ring River Park. Couples stroll hand in hand through the gentle drizzle, creating a romantic ambiance.

But on this Saturday morning, unlike the usual desolation of a rainy day, scattered men in loose-fitting short-sleeved shirts and cigarettes dangling from their lips have gathered around the City A Stadium Plaza.

Approach them closer, and they’ll sidle up, asking, “Tickets, miss? Need tickets?”

Passersby are puzzled. “I haven’t heard of any concerts coming to City A recently.”

Singers typically schedule concerts during the summer or winter holidays when foot traffic is highest. May and June are considered off-peak months; students wouldn’t travel long distances to attend concerts while school is in session.

 

The scalper clicked his tongue. “It’s an audition show!”

He slapped a stack of unsold tickets against his hand. “These are all up-and-coming talents. Once they become famous, you won’t be able to get a ticket no matter how hard you try. Buy now or regret it later! The stage quality is top-notch!”

Seeing the pedestrian still hesitating, the scalper sighed inwardly and cursed the production team.

Normally, the early stages of an audition show require live voting. They could easily recruit online, but the production team, having already rented the venue, thought, “Why not add more audience seats?”

So they started selling tickets online and reselling them to scalpers, but now—

They’re stuck with a glut of unsold tickets!

Just as the pedestrian was about to impatiently decline, he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye: a bus slowly pulled into the lane and stopped at the stadium entrance. Moments later, the bus doors opened, and a girl in a short Japanese schoolgirl skirt hopped out.

 

For the next three minutes, the bus doors were like Pandora’s box—you never knew what type of beauty would emerge next.

There were cute ones bouncing around in short skirts, elegant ones in long dresses, aloof ones in black evening gowns, seductive ones in cat ears, and—

Passersby stared in awe. “Why is there one in traditional costume? Are those water sleeves? So ethereal…”

Finally, the last group to disembark from the bus was the cast of “The Puppet Show,” divided into Groups A and B.

Group B wore cheongsams, accentuating their curves and long legs. Their dramatic makeup and upward-slanting eyes evoked the glamorous era of the Republic of China’s opera scene.

Group A—the “Perfect Pair” Group—donned Han-style opera costumes with white silk water sleeves at the wrists. The six members were painted like wooden puppets: willow-leaf eyebrows, cherry-red lips, and forehead ornaments that accentuated their exquisite makeup. Every expression they made was breathtakingly beautiful, like scenes from a legendary tale.

The production team set up a camera at the bus door to film the trainees disembarking one by one. Once they were out of the camera’s view, the six members all sighed in relief.

Song Jiangjiang touched the hairpin on her head. “This hairpiece is so heavy! We don’t have to wear it until the end of the recording, do we?”

 

Qiao Yue, being young, had her hair braided into twin buns, with tiny bells tied to the hair ribbons. The crisp jingling sound as she moved intrigued her, and she seemed to enjoy the traditional attire. She tried to reassure Song Jiangjiang, “It’s not that bad. After the recording, we still have to take group photos.”

Song Jiangjiang: “…Thanks for the encouragement. I might as well just hang myself now.”

Shen Xin’s expression darkened. “Don’t say such things.”

Song Jiangjiang: “See? I knew Xingjie cared about me.”

Shen Xin hummed in acknowledgment. “Your costume is red and traditional. If you hung yourself, you’d become a vengeful ghost. That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Song Jiangjiang: “……”

She turned to Ji Zhao and complained, “Zhaozhao! Look at her!”

Ji Zhao, accustomed to the simple clothing of this era, found the traditional attire awkward. Yet having worn it for years, she flicked her sleeves with practiced ease, radiating authority. Her response, however, was: “I’m neither the Captain nor the Center Position. I don’t manage her.”

Song Jiangjiang instinctively glanced at Yu Cheng.

As the Center Position, Yu Cheng stood out among the others, her slender waist, barely wider than a span, adorned with a jade pendant and a longsword. The clinking of the jade pendants and the fluttering of the red silk ribbon in her hair added to her striking, valiant appearance.

Noticing Song Jiangjiang’s gaze, Yu Cheng paused momentarily in her close proximity to Ji Zhao, but only for a fleeting instant. She then resumed following Ji Zhao into the gymnasium with cool indifference.

Song Jiangjiang: “……”

What a frigid world. I’m out of here.

Zheng Dongqing, who had observed the entire scene, approached and patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t overthink it. Overthinking just makes you sad.”

Song Jiangjiang, numb, replied, “What a great comfort. Next time, don’t bother.”

Before the audience arrived, the trainees, organized by the production team, hurried through a full-costume rehearsal. They then returned to the backstage dressing room, where they sat in assigned groups, waiting for makeup artists to touch up their looks.

Across from them hung a 100-inch TV, broadcasting live footage of the audience filing in.

He Yumeng nervously tapped her foot beside Ji Zhao. “Aren’t you… aren’t you guys nervous? Why does your team’s Center Position look like she’s going into battle? Did you guys hold back during rehearsals in the practice room?”

Ji Zhao smiled faintly. “No.”

He Yumeng continued to bounce her leg. “Wow! That smile is terrifying! You’re definitely hiding something!”

Ji Zhao: “……”

Puzzled, she touched the corners of her lips and asked Yu Cheng, “Does my smile really look scary?”

Yu Cheng shook her head firmly. “Not scary at all.”

Ji Zhao manually lifted the corners of her lips and whispered, “Earlier, during the rehearsal, they also said my smile looked a bit scary. You said it wasn’t scary. Who should I believe?”

Yu Cheng said earnestly, “When have I ever lied to you?”

Ji Zhao lowered her gaze.

“Cut the crap!” Song Jiangjiang poked her head between the two from behind. “This morning, you lied to Zhaozhao and said the convenience store ran out of ice so you couldn’t make her iced coffee!”

Yu Cheng: “……”

Ji Zhao: “……”

Ji Zhao looked up, gazing at Yu Cheng with an innocent expression.

Yu Cheng’s eyes flickered. “You—you haven’t been able to eat ice lately.”

Song Jiangjiang glanced left and right, her lips curling downward as she rolled her eyes. “Oh, really? ‘Can’t eat ice lately’? Are you two putting on a show of affection for everyone to see? Are you pretending to be all lovey-dovey?”

“What do you mean ‘lovey-dovey’?” A new voice suddenly interrupted the team’s harmonious conversation. “What are you all talking about?”

Song Jiangjiang instantly sat up straight. “Assistant Director!”

 

The assistant director nodded and turned to Ji Zhao with a smile. “Zhaozhao, while we’re waiting for filming to start, go around and interview everyone. I had someone prepare the questions. Just ask randomly until it’s time to start filming.”

Ji Zhao took the card and stared at the questions for a moment, suddenly noticing how quiet it had become.

She paused and looked up.

The assistant director was still smiling at her.

“Do you need anything else?” Ji Zhao asked.

The assistant director’s smile froze. “No, that’s all…”

Ji Zhao nodded thoughtfully and shifted her posture. Though she said nothing, everyone could clearly read her body language: If you don’t need anything else, why are you still standing there?

The assistant director felt a lump in his throat. “Well, I’ll just be going then.”

“Don’t bother seeing me off,” Ji Zhao replied.

The assistant director: “……”

The other trainees: “……”

Chen Xingzi murmured, “Zhaozhao, you’re… you’re my hero!”

A familiar mocking voice rang out from nearby. Tong Wei, ignoring Tang Ge’s attempts to pull her back and calm her down, shouted, “Don’t stop me! I just can’t stand her arrogant attitude!”

Tang Ge stood beside her, her lips twitching. “Seriously, Sis? Are you Huanbi or something?”

 

Tong Wei glared fiercely at her. “Isn’t that obvious? Ji Zhaozhao, are you relying on the Ji Family’s influence or Yu Cheng’s backing to dare speak to the Assistant Director like that? How can someone with your lack of manners even be in first place?”

The practice room fell into a deathly silence.

The trainees exchanged uneasy glances, unaccustomed to such a public confrontation. Some couldn’t hide their excitement as they exchanged knowing looks with their teammates, their eyes gleaming with a mischievous eagerness to see what would happen next.

Ji Zhao raised a hand to stop Yu Cheng from exploding. She stood slowly. “You said I’m in first place?”

Tong Wei: “?”

Ji Zhao gestured for Follow PD to follow her, then waded through the crowd toward Tong Wei. “The voting closes at midnight tonight. Since our group won the performance, my position as Center should be even more secure now, right?”

He Yumeng protested, “Hey—before you claim victory, at least add an ‘if’ out of respect for the other teams!”

“Quiet.” Ji Zhao shook her arm, flicking her water sleeves aside to reveal her wrist. She took the microphone from Follow PD, the beauty mark at the corner of her eye growing more alluring as her smile widened. “I like this result.”

Tong Wei: “……”

Why was it that every time she tried to mock Ji Zhaozhao, the latter always seemed to miss the point?

 

She slumped down, feeling the need for some quiet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tang Ge stand up and Ji Zhaozhao sit down beside her. Then the microphone was handed to her.

Tong Wei: “?”

She stared in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

Ji Zhao looked utterly matter-of-fact. “The assistant director told me to find someone for an interview. Didn’t you hear?”

Tong Wei paled. “Me?”

Ji Zhao frowned slightly. “Are you not human?”

Tong Wei: “……”

Ji Zhao glanced down at her notecard. Seeing Tong Wei still wanted to speak, she shifted the microphone slightly, her expression unchanging. “If I were you, I wouldn’t refuse.”

The corners of her lips curved slightly. “You’ve already lost face once in front of all these cameras. Don’t do it again. Otherwise—”

Tong Wei swallowed hard. “Otherwise what?”

Ji Zhao tilted her head, the pendant in her hairdo swaying with the movement. She smiled. “Otherwise the editors won’t be able to cut the footage cleanly, right?”

Tong Wei closed her eyes. “Ask.”

Ji Zhao, looking pleased with her compliance, cleared her throat. “In this team assignment, you’re neither the Center Position nor the Captain. Do you think your team’s Center Position deserves that position?”

Follow PD: “???”

How did I not remember seeing that on the notecard?!

Ji Zhao shrugged. “Just kidding.”

She gave Tong Wei a meaningful look. “But judging by your expression, you really do have some issues with your team’s Center Position, don’t you?”

Tong Wei’s team’s Center Position was standing right next to her. “Is that true, Weiwei?”

Tong Wei quickly smiled and reassured him, “No, no! How could I? Why would I have any issues with you? You’re our team’s undisputed Center Position. Don’t listen to Ji Zhaozhao—”

Before she could finish, Ji Zhao had already stood up and moved on to the next interviewee.

Tong Wei: “……”

Running away after framing someone?

Ji Zhao sat down next to He Yumeng. “He Yumeng, will you cry if you lose?”

He Yumeng: “…… I already said I need to add an ‘if’ to that!”

Ji Zhao: “So you will cry, then?”

He Yumeng: “……”

She felt like crying right then and there.

Ji Zhao turned to Shen Xin. “Sister Shen, show everyone your high EQ speech.”

Shen Xin, expressionless, replied, “I beg you, don’t make me demonstrate ‘high EQ’ speeches again! My EQ is terrible, I was wrong, I’ll never show off again—please, I’m begging you!”

Ji Zhao: “Full marks.”

Shen Xin: “……”

She felt like that kid forced to perform a talent during the New Year’s celebration—no one understood.

Ji Zhao handed the microphone to Song Jiangjiang. “Show us your tongue-clicking.”

Song Jiangjiang: “……”

She understood.

 

Ji Zhao’s interviewing efficiency was something the Follow PD hadn’t anticipated. The production team had originally asked her to casually interview a couple of trainees as a transition before the performance, but in just twenty minutes, Ji Zhao had somehow managed to interview all 108 trainees, moving from one end of the dressing room to the other.

Though her questions were simple and completely ad-libbed, skipping the prepared script, they unexpectedly made for compelling viewing, capturing the trainees’ most authentic selves.

Finally, Ji Zhao sat back down and casually handed the microphone to Yu Cheng.

Yu Cheng took it.

“I don’t have any more questions,” Ji Zhao said. “Just say something to the camera.”

“Okay,” Yu Cheng replied.

She looked at the camera, her smile radiant, her eyes sparkling. “We’re going to win.”

The interview concluded.

He Yumeng was too exhausted to even complain, especially since a traitor had emerged from their own team—Shao Ke stared at Yu Cheng with starry eyes. “She said they’re going to win!”

Ding Yan gently tugged on his ear. “We’re going to beat them.”

“Hey! That hurts!” Shao Ke protested.

Not long after the interview ended, the stadium lights dimmed. Spotlights illuminated the stage as Cheng Feiwan emerged from backstage, waving to the crowd. “Good evening, everyone!”

The audience erupted in cheers.

The mentors had a strong fan base. Most of the scalpers’ tickets had been sold to their fans, so when the camera swept across the audience, five out of ten were Cheng Feiwan’s fans, three were Lin Mengxi’s fans, and two were Ding Chuan’s fans. Only a few had come specifically for the trainees.

Under Cheng Feiwan’s introduction, the mentors took the stage one by one, each wave of applause louder than the last, instantly electrifying the atmosphere.

Cheng Feiwan, the group’s captain, was renowned for her stage control. After briefly calming the crowd, she began following the production team’s script: “There are two stages on either side of me. Groups A and B of ‘Encounter’ are already waiting on stage. Now, let’s hand the stage over to Group A!”

 

As the lights on the main stage dimmed, the stage lights to Cheng Feiwan’s right lit up.

In the hazy mist, the trainee leaning against the tripod piano lowered her gaze, her voice ethereal and resonant:

“Hearing~ winter’s departure~ I woke up one day in the past~”

“Wow, that sounds amazing!”

“My goodness, it’s like angelic singing!”

“That’s going to make me cry!”

The trainees waiting in the dressing room reacted promptly as the production team instructed. Though a bit exaggerated, it left plenty of room for editing later. The Follow PD encouraged them from the side: “Make your expressions even more dramatic!”

Ji Zhao clapped her hands. “It really sounds beautiful.”

 

“Encounter” was an all-vocal piece, which limited the performers’ freedom but also made it less prone to mistakes. If they could draw the audience in, wowing the crowd would be a breeze.

The “Perfect Pair” Group, consisting of Team A and Team B, were the fourth to perform. While the third group was preparing on stage, they had already gathered at the entrance.

Twelve people in total.

Six in traditional Chinese attire and six in cheongsams. Standing together, they looked like a bizarre mix of time periods.

Song Jiangjiang finally couldn’t resist asking the opposing team, “The Puppet Show is about puppet plays. Why are you wearing cheongsams? Haven’t you looked into the background?”

He Yumeng froze. “What background?”

“You know, the one about Yu Shaoneng, who could see ghosts. He met an old man in a temple on a snowy night, carrying a finely crafted wooden puppet…” Song Jiangjiang trailed off, then turned to Ji Zhao for help. “What comes next?”

Ji Zhao smoothly continued, “He met an old man in a temple on a snowy night, with white hair and tattered clothes. He held a wooden puppet, exquisitely crafted to resemble a delicate girl, her painted tears glistening on her lashes, evoking pity.”

The opposing team trembled. “Stop… stop talking.”

The “Perfect Pair” Group: “Huh?”

 

[Opponent Group: “You guys sound like talking puppets! Aaaaaah!”]

[Perfect Pair Group: “Well, of course!”]

Ding Yan cleared his throat and apologized on behalf of his team. “We’ve heard this story before. The Puppet Master spent his whole life performing puppet shows. In the end, frustrated that he’d only ever done one thing, he blamed the puppets and burned them for warmth.”

“But then, unexpectedly, the puppets moved. They bowed deeply to the Puppet Master, their tear-streaked faces suddenly smiling before crumbling into ashes with a crack.”

As the tale of the puppet show concluded, a soft chuckle suddenly echoed through the air.

He Yumeng shuddered. “Who’s laughing?”

The six members of the Opponent Group raised their hands in unison, bowing deeply. They lifted their faces and smiled at them. Ji Zhaozhao, the leader with her bewitching eye mole, parted her crimson lips slightly. “Is this how you laugh?”

He Yumeng’s team: “……”

Aaaaaah! Don’t mess with our heads before the competition! Have some decency!

It wasn’t until “The Puppet Show” Groups A and B entered the dimming arena and approached their respective stages that He Yumeng’s team managed to calm down. They exchanged encouraging glances, vowing not to let their opponents rattle them.

 

After calming down, I looked past the main stage to Group A’s stage.

In the dim light, I could barely make out Group A’s set—it seemed to be a small stage with a second floor, tassels hanging from the eaves, and a room below. The members of Group A were bustling about, searching for their marks, looking unfamiliar with the stage.

He Yumeng sneered, “They tried to hide their practice room rehearsals and full-costume run-throughs. Now they’ve really shot themselves in the foot, haven’t they?”

Ding Yan reminded her, “Don’t pay them too much mind.”

He Yumeng: “……”

How could I not care?!

The voting for the previous round had just concluded on the main stage. Cheng Feiwan was rehearsing the script for “The Puppet Show” with the other host, discussing the story of the Puppet Master and the puppets that Group A and B had just reviewed.

“Today, our trainees will interpret this story through their own understanding,” Cheng Feiwan’s voice boomed through the speakers, echoing throughout the arena. “Please welcome Yu Cheng, Ji Zhaozhao, Shen Xin, Song Jiangjiang, Qiao Yue, and Zheng Dongqing as they perform ‘The Puppet Show’! Ladies and gentlemen, please give them a warm welcome!”

 

The lights on the main stage dimmed, but Group A’s stage remained dark.

Just as the audience began to wonder what was happening, the prelude to “The Puppet Show” began to play. Amidst the flowing chords of the guzheng, a light suddenly lit up somewhere, revealing Song Jiangjiang sitting before a dressing table, staring expressionlessly at her reflection in the bronze mirror. Her movements were mechanical as she opened her mouth to pitch her voice: “Who laughs at those who flaunt their beauty? Without a heart, how can we truly match…”

“The bells on my hairpins tinkle clear,” another light lit up elsewhere, and Qiao Yue emerged from a cabinet filled with puppets. The bells on her hairdo chimed softly: “The curtains part, revealing faint lights~”

The two locked eyes and sang together: “You and I, the perfect pair—”

The audience finally reacted, cheering in unison for this stage concept. Even the trainees in the practice room joined in the chant: “Perfect Pair! You two are the perfect pair!”

Lights came on again on the other side of the stage. Shen Xin, mounted on a puppet stand, moved her arms mechanically, her water sleeves swaying gently: “Only without you is there true sin, only without a heart can we truly match~”

“You in tatters, I in vibrant hues, side by side we’ll traverse mountains and rivers~”

 

The light spread out, illuminating Zheng Dongqing, who stood beside Shen Xin. Together, they sang:

“You wither, I’ll bloom for you.”

The camera on the big screen panned to a chessboard at the center of the stage, where Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng sat facing each other. Ji Zhao held a brow pencil, drawing Yu Cheng’s eyebrows in the air. Her red lips parted slightly as she sang:

“You kissed the brush to life, staining my tears with ink, enacting a tale of parting and reunion, joy and sorrow, but for whom?”

“They wander in misunderstandings, but I yield only to you,” Yu Cheng sang, rising from her seat in sync with Ji Zhao. As they moved, Yu Cheng stepped onto the stage, while Ji Zhao ascended to the second floor, joining Qiao Yue and Zheng Dongqing, who had already positioned themselves.

As Yu Cheng finished with “Who in this world could be more perfect~,” a lilting opera melody began:

“Fingering the world like water, the three-foot stage where all is song~”

The audience erupted in applause.

“Holy crap! I’m blown away, guys!”

“Those three puppets on the second floor are actually puppet masters? Are they controlling the puppets on stage through invisible strings?”

“Aaaaaah! The opera vocals bring the entire stage to life! And the coordination between the performers on stage and the puppet masters above is flawless—perfect timing! Holy crap! How is the middle one flying now???”

On stage, Shen Xin, Yu Cheng, and Song Jiangjiang moved in sync with the melodious opera vocals, following the invisible cues from the puppet masters above.

Just then, Ji Zhaozhao suddenly raised her hand. Yu Cheng, under her command, soared into the air, spinning in circles. Her skirt and the red ribbon in her hair whirled through the air—

“…May those who remember each other cherish their best years.”

Yu Cheng slowly descended onto the stage, bowing stiffly toward the second floor like a puppet on a string. “With your pull, I dance like the wind; with your lead, I know when to advance or retreat…”

“Through joy and sorrow, my every move obeys your will, embodying absolute humility and gentleness.”

 

Across the main stage, Group B, facing Group A, was completely dumbfounded the moment Yu Cheng took flight. Once they confirmed she hadn’t used wires, He Yumeng was on the verge of tears.

She exclaimed angrily, “No one told me our opponent could fly! Does she have a flying license to just take off like that?!”

Her teammates: “……”

Their composure shattered.