Her Majesty The Empress Has Made Her Debut In The Center Position [Ancient to Modern] - Chapter 33.1

It was an ordinary night, yet also extraordinary.

The estate was remote, and the trainee supporters rarely made the trip. They brought armfuls of gifts and took turns standing watch. Whenever a trainee emerged, they would swarm to snap photos.

To encourage the station sisters, the production team occasionally called individual trainees down to make a quick appearance.

Whether it was for a scheduled appearance or just a casual stroll, the trainees would come out so the station sisters could take pictures. After all, station sisters’ “godly” photos often went viral, benefiting both parties—a win-win situation that both sides enjoyed.

This night was ordinary in that the trainees trickled off work one by one, just like any other day.

What made it unusual was that after evening fell, a light drizzle began to fall—thin, sparse strands of rain that the station sisters paid no mind. They didn’t even bother with umbrellas, huddling together to guess who would be the last to leave.

“There’s no way it’s her,” Ji Zhaozhao’s station sister said, rolling dice with a hint of gritted teeth in her voice. “She’s been so unenthusiastic about leaving all day—something’s wrong with her head. But even though Dramatic is already off work, she’s still waiting for Yu Cheng. She really loves her!”

The station sister beside her patted her hand. “If you want to be a CP stan, I won’t judge you.”

Ji Zhaozhao’s station sister snatched her hand back like lightning, her face contorted with disgust. “Ugh, we’re both ‘big sisters’—forget about ‘second sisters’! You’re a Yu Cheng stan and you’re not even embarrassed? I’ve given you so many of Yu Cheng’s best photos I took myself!”

Beside them, Song Jiangjiang’s station sister sat on a small stool, watching anime with a “Must Win” headband tied around her forehead, her expression deadpan. The main celebrity was being showered with affection on the show, and even her station sister was being outdone by the neighboring station sister’s displays of affection. It was enough to make anyone go numb.

Of course, the rain and idle chatter were just interludes. The most extraordinary moment came when someone exclaimed in disbelief, “Am I seeing this right? Why are six or seven trainees coming down from the dormitory building and heading our way?”

“What?! What?!” The station sisters quickly crowded together.

“Is this our fault?”

“Six or seven?!”

“Did the production team need them for something?”

As the trainees approached closer, the station sisters’ voices rose and fell. The whispers were, “No way… they’re actually coming for us?” The shouts were, “Aaaaaah, Ji Zhaozhao, my wife!” “Yu Cheng, my honey!” “Yican, sweetie!” “Yuting, sis!” “Jiajia, girl!” “Xingxing, my god!” “Jiangjiang!!”

The chatter rose and fell, creating a lively atmosphere.

Only Song Jiangjiang remained silent.

Can’t her fans give her a nickname? Can’t they call her “sweetie,” “baby,” or “wife”?!

Indeed, the six losers from the afternoon gaming competition, along with the sole winner, Yu Cheng, had appeared before the station sisters on this lonely rainy night. Each held a transparent umbrella, and the drizzle pelted against them, invisible but audible in its rhythmic patter, creating a scene as beautiful as a painting of a rain-soaked alleyway.

Yet beneath this serene facade, each person’s heart churned with turmoil.

Shen Yican grinned widely, her voice dripping with resentment as she squeezed out between gritted teeth, “What’s the production team’s problem…? We all decided internally not to punish anyone, so why are they still making us go through with it?”

Qian Xingxing waved at the station sisters. “They can’t air the segment without the punishment.”

Song Jiangjiang scoffed. “Keep dreaming. If they cut that part, won’t all my suffering have been for nothing?”

Ji Zhao interjected, “I think Jiangjiang is perfect for the Center Position. What do you guys think?”

Song Jiangjiang: “?”

Everyone: “Agreed.”

Song Jiangjiang: “……”

So you’re the one leading the bullying of the outsourced staff, huh?!

Yu Cheng held the umbrella, angling it to shield Ji Zhao from the rain based on its direction. As they reached the production team’s designated spot, she made one last desperate plea: “Your Majesty, I’m willing to take the blame for you.”

Ji Zhao remained unmoved. “Don’t even think about it.”

“The rain is still falling,” Yu Cheng pointed out.

“And the wind keeps blowing,” Ji Zhao countered.

“Hmm… hmm?”

Ji Zhao chuckled. “You haven’t heard this song before?”

She hummed: “Rain keeps falling, wind keeps blowing, who will share wine with me to discuss the world?”

Yu Cheng fell silent for a moment. “Can we have tea instead?”

Ji Zhao looked thoughtful. “Your drinking tolerance really is terrible, General Yu!”

Yu Cheng silently added “improve drinking tolerance” to her mental to-do list. Just as she was about to say more to try and change Her Majesty’s mind, she saw Song Jiangjiang toss the umbrella aside. The transparent umbrella landed under the streetlight, its glistening surface making the raindrops even more visible in the dim yellow glow.

Song Jiangjiang stepped forward, hands on her hips. “Ladies, gentlemen, and viewers, good evening!”

“Good evening—”

Song Jiangjiang raised her hand, pointed at herself with her thumb, and said, “Tonight, my teammates and I will be performing a wild version of the theme song. If possible, please put down your devices and experience it with your eyes, okay?”

“Okay—”

Then they realized what they’d said: “What do you mean ‘okay’?! The cameras are the fans’ eyes! It would be a dereliction of duty not to share this amazing footage with everyone!”

Song Jiangjiang hadn’t really expected the fans to listen anyway. Besides, even if the fans weren’t filming, the production team’s cameras were still there—closer than the fans, with better resolution, and capturing the cause and effect more clearly than any fan could describe.

Ji Zhao nudged Yu Cheng. “Go stand over there.”

The wind lifted Yu Cheng’s long hair, making her look pitiful. “Can’t I stay here and hold an umbrella for you?”

“…How am I supposed to dance if you’re holding an umbrella?”

Yu Cheng sighed inwardly and shifted her stance, her eyes fixed worriedly on Ji Zhao. Her Majesty’s health is so frail. What if he catches a cold in this wind and rain…?

She didn’t dare finish the thought.

Just then, the production team’s speakers began blaring the Theme Song’s intro. Everyone hastily dropped their umbrellas, adopting their poses with grim determination, as if facing death.

The umbrellas blossomed across the winding path like a sea of flowers, while the rain intensified, pattering loudly.

The paparazzi raised their cameras.

First, they snapped photos, then switched to video mode, aiming at their favorite idols to capture a wild version of the Theme Song. For a moment, both inside and outside the walls fell silent, save for the booming music.

Several trainees poked their heads out of the dormitory building to watch the spectacle.

“Hey, isn’t that Shen Yican? Dancing so wildly—are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Aaaaaah, is this what they call ‘reverse charm’?”

“Who ordered you to do this?! Are you trying to ruin our show’s reputation? This wild Theme Song version will haunt our program forever!”

The rain intensified with the music, but the penalized trainees danced even more enthusiastically. They didn’t worry about their movements being perfect or keeping to the beat—they just danced, only danced, simply danced.

Even the originally indifferent trainee managers were moved by the sight.

Later, these videos would appear in every trainee’s growth montage—a testament to their purest, most innocent passion for dance, the rain-soaked days, the laughter of girls.

“Yu Cheng! Let’s dance together!” Ji Zhao stepped forward, yanking Yu Cheng’s umbrella away and pulling her hands up. She spun in Yu Cheng’s embrace. “Weren’t you going to take the punishment for me? Let’s get rained on together!”

The music was so loud they had to shout to be heard.

“The rain’s getting heavier!” Yu Cheng raised her voice. “Let’s head back after this!”

Ji Zhao didn’t hear her clearly and just grunted in response. But then she slipped on a rain-soaked rock, stumbled, and was caught by Yu Cheng’s quick reflexes, who grabbed her waist.

“Your Majesty, be careful,” Yu Cheng murmured.

Ji Zhao nearly stumbled. She tugged at her earlobe. “What did you say?!”

Yu Cheng shook her head, belatedly realizing her hand was still on Your Majesty’s waist. She quickly withdrew it. “This subject has overstepped.”

The music neared its end, abruptly stopping. The trainees, exhausted from their wild antics, panted to a halt. All that remained were the sounds of breathing and the rain.

Every word Yu Cheng had spoken sank into Ji Zhao’s ears.

She smiled, turned around, and reached out to embrace Yu Cheng’s shoulders. Only then did she realize Ji Zhaozhao was too small; to properly wrap her arms around her, she’d have to stand on tiptoe. She clicked her tongue and exerted herself. “Bend down.”

Yu Cheng bent down.

Ji Zhao clung to her, her voice dripping with amusement. “This isn’t the first time you’ve overstepped, you know.”

Yu Cheng’s expression shifted. “Your Majesty, I—”

“Shh!” Ji Zhao tilted her head. “Listen. Someone’s screaming.”

With the music silenced, other sounds sharpened. Yu Cheng’s ears twitched, picking out the crickets’ chirping in the bushes, the trainees closing windows, the wind and rain, and a distant steam whistle.

Yu Cheng could hear her own heartbeat, thump-thump, growing louder and louder.

Ji Zhao, oblivious to her emotions, released her grip and glanced toward the door. Song Jiangjiang and the others had already rushed over to chat with the station sisters. Having already danced and caused a commotion, they figured they might as well try to cozy up to the station sisters while they were at it.

“Um, can you edit the video before posting it? Like, add some lighting and skin smoothing? You know, people will think it’s our real beauty!”

“What? I danced like a man? You! You! How dare you insult me like that! You little…!”

“Did you vote for me? No? Your true love is Ji Zhaozhao? Goodbye!”

A station sister chimed in, “Stop talking! You’re interrupting my chance to watch them show off their affection!”

Song Jiangjiang and the others: “……”

Yu Cheng: “……”

Ji Zhao: “?”

Show off their affection?

According to a certain online encyclopedia, “showing off affection” is a net slang term referring to couples acting overly affectionate in front of single people. This kind of behavior is said to invite divine retribution.

This is serious.

After hearing Chen Xingzi’s explanation, Ji Zhao turned to Yu Cheng and said, “We need to show less affection.”

Chen Xingzi was puzzled. “But aren’t couples supposed to be the focus?”

Ji Zhao pondered. “But our fans think Yu Cheng and I are a couple. Even though it’s one-sided, it’s harmless. They like us together, so we’ll just put on a show for them.”

She asked Yu Cheng, “Do you agree?”

Yu Cheng desperately wanted to roll her eyes like He Yumeng and the others, her feelings conflicted. “Everything’s up to you.”

Ji Zhao smiled.

Chen Xingzi: “……”

Didn’t we just say we wouldn’t put on a show?!

Chen Xingzi handed them towels, her tone exasperated. “It’s pouring out there! Just go chat with the fans for a minute and come back. Look at you, you’re all soaked. What if you catch a cold?”

No sooner had she spoken than a loud sneeze echoed from the bathroom.

Shen Yican banged on the door. “Chen Xingzi, are you cursing me?!”

Chen Xingzi stuck her tongue out at the bathroom door.

Ji Zhao was too lazy to wipe properly. She draped the towel around her neck and rubbed her face with it. The girls had been dancing so hard, chatting with fans, and when the fans had their phones out, they…

Forget it. Don’t even think about it.

The Staff Manager thoughtfully brought over some ginger soup. After her shower, Ji Zhao sat in a chair, sipping it slowly. Outside, the rain intensified, and a light mist began to rise, creating an ethereal, dreamlike atmosphere that made the night particularly beautiful.

“Zhaozhao?” Someone knocked on the half-open dormitory door. “Are you busy?”

Ji Zhao looked up and recognized the staff member, who had been filming her for a few days. She set down her ginger soup. “What is it?”

The freshly brewed ginger soup was still hot when it was brought in. Even though she drank it slowly, she felt slightly warm, tiny beads of sweat forming on her nose. Her bare, unadorned face glowed with a healthy flush, catching the light in a pleasing way.

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