Her Majesty The Empress Has Made Her Debut In The Center Position [Ancient to Modern] - Chapter 6

More trainees crowded into the dining hall.

Most were still in their pajamas, their early morning looks remarkably similar, especially the short-haired ones, whose unstyled hair stuck out in all directions. Muffled complaints echoed through the air: “I’m so drowsy I might fall asleep any second.”

Pei Jia yawned repeatedly, a bun in her mouth, her muffled words slurring between her teeth: “They never said we’d have to stay up late and get up early. This is ridiculous. I can’t take it anymore. Zhaozhao, should we just withdraw and go home?”

Yu Cheng was certain now.

Pei Jia had called her “Zhaozhao.”

How impudent! Where’s the respect for hierarchy?!

Yu Cheng turned to Ji Zhao. “Zhaozhao?”

Ji Zhao was used to Pei Jia’s constant threats of going home. She took a bite of bread and leaned closer to Yu Cheng. “What is it?”

Yu Cheng said, “She called you ‘Zhaozhao’.”

“Yeah.” Ji Zhao glanced at Pei Jia, who had transformed her exhaustion into an appetite. “She used to always call me ‘Boss Ji’, but that’s too conspicuous. I made her stop.”

Yu Cheng nodded slowly.

So it was also a favor.

She suddenly found Pei Jia much more tolerable.

Ji Zhao asked Pei Jia, “You’re saying someone woke you up?”

“Exactly!” Pei Jia yawned again, tears streaming down her face. “The Staff Manager said we have to clean our dorm rooms, then grab our suitcases and go outside for a reshoot of the dormitory scenes. They’ll even take out the useless stuff from our suitcases. Otherwise—I—I could have slept until the sun went down!”

“Staff Manager?”

“The Contestant Manager.” The seat to Ji Zhao’s right, which had just been vacated, was pulled out again as Song Jiangjiang plopped down with a bowl of hot and sour soup. She answered Ji Zhao’s question, then sighed wistfully, gazing at her. “We’re not in the same dorm. What a shame!”

Ji Zhao agreed wholeheartedly. “It’s a real shame.”

Song Jiangjiang’s eyes lit up. “You feel that way too?”

Ji Zhao nodded. “Yes. You’ll have to make a special trip to my room to pick up my clothes. I’m in 309, bottom bunk by the door. My dirty clothes are in the laundry basket. Don’t forget to come get them.”

Song Jiangjiang: “……”

Pei Jia, curious, asked, “What clothes?”

Song Jiangjiang took a vicious bite of her meat bun, then turned to Yu Cheng and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Song Jiangjiang from Class A. Thanks to your ‘blessings’.”

Yu Cheng remained motionless, her gaze fixed warily on Song Jiangjiang’s outstretched hand.

What’s she up to?

Is she hiding a weapon?

The wariness instantly transformed into a palpable murderous aura. It was so overt that even Song Jiangjiang, a modern woman from a civilized world, felt a chill run down her spine, instinctively wanting to withdraw her hand.

Ji Zhao said, “Shake hands.”

The murderous aura vanished.

Yu Cheng clasped Song Jiangjiang’s hand almost reflexively.

Ji Zhao instructed, “Give it a shake.”

Yu Cheng shook their hands.

Song Jiangjiang: “……?”

She had never made friends like this before. It was truly hard to put into words. “To be honest, what kind of game are you two playing?”

Ji Zhao smiled. “None.”

She pulled out a piece of paper and methodically wiped each of her fingers. “I’ve finished my meal.”

Yu Cheng stood up. “Let’s go back.”

Ji Zhao hummed in acknowledgment. “Enjoy your meal.”

Yu Cheng stepped aside to let Ji Zhao pass first. The long dining table stretched seemingly endlessly, and Ji Zhao walked with unhurried grace.

She was wearing the original host’s nightgown. Though the original host’s taste was unremarkable, her natural elegance ensured that even a plain floral dress looked striking. Despite her average height, her haughty demeanor radiated superiority. A small mole at the corner of her eye added a touch of classical refinement to her appearance.

Everyone couldn’t help but stare at her.

Just as she was about to exit the dining hall, Ji Zhao suddenly stopped, positioning herself directly behind Tong Wei. Tong Wei, too afraid to turn around, braced for an outburst. Instead, Ji Zhao casually asked Yu Cheng, “How’s your archery coming along?”

Yu Cheng was taken aback by the question. But since she’d been asked, she had to answer—and answer in a way that satisfied Ji Zhao. “Unerring accuracy,” she replied.

As expected, Ji Zhao nodded in approval. She cast a meaningful glance at Tong Wei before striding away without hesitation.

Only after the oppressive pressure above her head vanished did Tong Wei realize she was drenched in cold sweat. Tang Ge, her colleague whom she’d always treated as a lackey, sidled up to her. “What was Ji Zhaozhao getting at? Was she threatening you?”

Tong Wei’s hand trembled slightly as she gripped her spoon, but she forced a defiant expression. “She’d dare bully me?”

Tang Ge muttered under her breath, “Who’s bullying who?” Tong Wei shot her a sharp glance, and Tang Ge immediately avoided her gaze. “They wouldn’t dare! Besides, if they do, we’ll catch them red-handed and get them disqualified!”

Tong Wei narrowed her eyes, a plan forming in her mind.

Meanwhile, on the other side…

After finishing her meal, Song Jiangjiang finally mustered the courage to approach Pei Jia. “Jiajia.”

Pei Jia’s eyes widened slightly as she glanced around to confirm Song Jiangjiang was calling her. She quickly gulped down her milk. “You’re on a first-name basis with me now?”

“Of course we’re close!” Song Jiangjiang sat down beside her. “You’ve seen me hop like a frog while whistling. We’re practically best friends!”

Pei Jia considered this. “What do you want?”

Song Jiangjiang lowered her voice. “So, about Boss Ji…”

Pei Jia leaned in, also lowering her voice. “What about him?”

“Is he dating Yu Cheng from Firefly Agency?”

Pei Jia: “……?”

She pondered this for a moment before smacking the table. “Oh no! This disqualifies him as an idol! He’ll have to pack up and go home!”

Song Jiangjiang: “?”

The reshoots were giving all the trainees quite a hard time.

First, they had to carry their suitcases back onto the bus, then get off in order, sometimes multiple times. Then they dragged their luggage through the sprawling estate, showcasing the production team’s wealth to the audience. Finally, they carried their suitcases upstairs in groups. Just the upstairs scene alone took nearly two hours to film.

After four or five hours of this ordeal, all the trainees were utterly exhausted.

“Song Jiangjiang’s really clever,” Ji Zhao said, sitting on the bed, her gaze fixed on the upright suitcase but her eyes unfocused, as if her soul had left her body from sheer exhaustion. “She told us to take everything out of our suitcases and carry the empty cases out.”

The physical strength from her past life had carried over into this one, so this level of exhaustion meant nothing to Yu Cheng. Hearing Ji Zhao praise Song Jiangjiang, she knew she shouldn’t feel jealous just because Ji Zhao favored her. But her mouth was always honest. “I can help you.”

“Always take shortcuts when you can,” Ji Zhao said, wrapping her arms around the pillar supporting the bunk bed and mouthing, “Is it hidden?”

Yu Cheng nodded solemnly.

The production team had strict rules during filming: to keep the trainees focused on training without outside distractions, all communication devices and entertainment tools had to be confiscated.

In other words, cell phones and tablets.

Ji Zhao was still new to this era, still trying to figure it out, and her main tool was the internet. Without it, she and Yu Cheng were like blind men groping an elephant, so when the higher-ups made a policy, Ji Zhao had a countermeasure: have Yu Cheng hide the phone and tablet. As for where exactly they were hidden, only Yu Cheng knew for now.

Ji Zhao trusted her abilities. “Good job.”

Yu Cheng pursed her lips.

She knew she shouldn’t feel secretly pleased by Ji Zhao’s praise, but she couldn’t help it.

The corners of her lips curved slightly.

Ji Zhao didn’t know what she was thinking, but she was already strategizing how to deal with the Staff Manager later. The entire dormitory was now filled with so-called cameras. Although the staff said not all footage would make it into the final cut, everyone was speaking with much more caution.

Yu Cheng was especially wary of this pervasive surveillance, often glancing at the cameras with a palpable murderous intent.

Compared to their caution, their two roommates were much more relaxed.

Chen Xingzi had folded a small trash box from a newspaper and was leaning against the bed, munching on sunflower seeds and spitting the shells with a rhythmic patter. She casually offered her roommates the seeds as if they were old friends. “Want some? They’re going to be confiscated soon. If we’re unlucky, we might not get sunflower seeds for four months! This is our only chance!”

After being rejected, she shook her head regretfully. “I’m really worried about myself!”

“Worried about what?”

A head suddenly hung down from the upper bunk, long hair cascading down, startling Chen Xingzi so much that her hand trembled and she screamed, “Shen Yican! Are you trying to scare me to death?!”

The girl called Shen Yican brushed her long hair aside, straightened up, and replied in a sly tone, “Scaredy-cat.”

Chen Xingzi gritted her teeth. “I’m not even going to bother arguing with you.”

Her mood shifted as quickly as it had come. She turned to Ji Zhao with a bright smile, “Zhaozhao, you need to watch out for this woman above. When she goes berserk, she’s terrifying!”

Ji Zhao asked curiously, “Are you two from the same company?”

Chen Xingzi shook her head. “Of course not.”

Ji Zhao looked puzzled.

“But we often run into each other,” Chen Xingzi explained, kicking the upper bunk’s bed frame. She called out, “Right, Cancy? Your company keeps scheduling roadshows that clash with ours, forcing us to cross paths, right?”

Shen Yican retorted mercilessly, “Get lost.”

Chen Xingzi grinned. “You’re just afraid of getting cut from the footage, aren’t you?”

Shen Yican folded her quilt into a perfect square. “We’re all here to carry the Royal’s sedan chair. Why would the production team waste time filming me spewing curses?”

“The Royal?” Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng echoed simultaneously.

What did that mean?

Could it be… the Great Qi Dynasty hasn’t fallen after all?

“It means…” Chen Xingzi began to explain, but a sudden knock at the door interrupted her. She quickly threw off her covers and jumped out of bed. “The Staff Manager must be here with the Follow PD! Oh no, my sunflower seeds—!”

Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng exchanged glances. Ji Zhao subtly shook her head. “Open the door first.”

The Staff Manager carried a massive cardboard box already stuffed with cell phones, tablets, and a pile of snacks shoved into the corner. The sight of it all looked rather pitiful.

The Staff Manager smiled brightly. “Hand them all over.”

Despite her thoroughness, the Staff Manager couldn’t believe Yu Cheng hadn’t brought a phone or tablet. She sighed in exasperation. “That excuse has already been used before. What era do you think this is? Who doesn’t carry a phone or computer these days? How could anyone survive without one?”

Shen Yican leaned out from the upper bunk. “So the production team really isn’t going to let us live in peace, huh?”

The Staff Manager remained silent.

She cleared her throat. “Enough nonsense. Hand over your phones!”

“I really didn’t bring one,” Yu Cheng said, standing ramrod straight. Her voice, calm yet undeniably alluring, was so captivating that anyone listening would be too distracted to notice her blatant lie. “My father says phones are bad for your health.”

The corner of the Staff Manager’s mouth twitched. “Did Mr. Yu… really say that?”

Yu Cheng nodded.

Yu Cheng’s father was a legendary actor, a three-time Golden Horse Award winner with a net worth in the billions, a household name in the entertainment industry.

With his reputation as collateral, the Staff Manager remained skeptical. She believed Yu Cheng and stopped questioning her, but her doubts led her to search every possible hiding spot in Room 309 for a phone before leaving.

Only after the Staff Manager departed did Ji Zhao finally let out a soft sigh of relief.

Shen Yican and Chen Xingzi lay back down. Rumor had it this would be their last full night’s sleep before joining the production. Starting tomorrow, they’d have only three days to learn the theme song.

Three days later, it was time for the theme song assessment, which would reorganize the groups and select the Center Position singer.

Ji Zhao wanted Yu Cheng to get some rest, but Yu Cheng refused to let her go alone, insisting on accompanying her. While assassinations of the Emperor were unheard of in this era, danger lurked everywhere.

“Where?” Ji Zhao asked as she climbed the stairs to the top floor. “What danger could possibly be here?”

Yu Cheng followed behind her. “Your Majesty, look.”

“What am I looking at?” Ji Zhao asked.

“This house is old, and the wooden stairs are severely damaged. One misstep could cause them to snap. Below is empty space, and anyone walking on them could fall from a great height.”

Ji Zhao: “……”

“And this lamp,” Yu Cheng continued. “They call it a crystal chandelier, and it weighs over fifty kilograms. If it falls—”

Ji Zhao cut her off. “Enough. Stay close.”

After another turn, they reached the rooftop, where the production team was building an aerial garden. The construction was still in progress, leaving tools and bricks scattered around.

Ji Zhao asked, “How is your night vision now compared to before?”

Yu Cheng looked around.

She replied, “Unimpaired.”

Ji Zhao nodded thoughtfully. “What about your Lightness Skill?”

No sooner had the words left her lips than Yu Cheng, who had been standing perfectly still in front of her, pushed off the ground. In the next instant, she soared into the air and landed effortlessly atop the lightning rod of the small building at the edge of the skydeck. She stood with her arms crossed, the wind whipping her hair as she gazed down at Ji Zhao. In the moonlight, her features were strikingly clear.

She called out, “Your Majesty, unimpaired.”

Ji Zhao looked up at her. “…How long do you plan to stay up there?”

Yu Cheng leaped down, landing gracefully beside Ji Zhao. The joy in her eyes hadn’t faded. “I can continue protecting Your Majesty.”

“It seems we’ve brought our skills from our past lives here as well,” Ji Zhao said, backing up. “Let’s exchange a few blows.”

Yu Cheng hesitated, reluctance plain on her face.

Ji Zhao frowned. “What? You won’t even listen to me now?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yu Cheng said, shaking her head. “It’s just that… Your Majesty has never bested this subject in combat.”

As the Crown Princess, Ji Zhao was expected to learn both governance and martial arts, if only to defend herself. The Chancellor had arranged for Yu Cheng to be her sparring partner. On their first day, Yu Cheng had actually made Ji Zhao cry.

Yu Cheng naturally felt she’d been unfairly accused. She knew Ji Zhao was destined to become the supreme ruler, so she hadn’t touched her at all. But because Ji Zhao couldn’t get close to her, the dignified Crown Princess had actually sat down on a stone bench and burst into tears.

Her weeping was as pitiful as a rain-soaked pear blossom, so heart-wrenching that Yu Cheng’s resolve softened. She leaned over to comfort her.

Then…

Stop. Recalling such moments would be disrespectful to Your Majesty.

The moment Yu Cheng said this, Ji Zhao’s face darkened. She raised her fist, ready to spar. But Yu Cheng’s expression sharpened. She tilted her head, murmured “Someone’s coming,” and casually caught Ji Zhao’s fist, her footwork light as she slipped into a hidden spot around the corner.

Moments later, footsteps clattered up the stairs, and the skydeck door was flung open with force.

Yu Cheng mouthed: “Two people.”

“I really can’t take it anymore!” A familiar, irritating voice rang out. “I used to be the undisputed Center Position in the company. That waste Yu Cheng got in through connections and even stole my spot! How dare she think she’s better than me?”

“Aw, Weiwei,” Tang Ge consoled her, “didn’t you still end up with the Center Position in the end?”

Tong Wei grew even angrier. “Only because she gave it to me! What a poser! She’s always acting so superior, but deep down, she knows she’s worthless. And even with that, they still gave her an A? Why?!”

Tang Ge echoed her indignation. “Exactly! Why?! Yu Cheng gets an A while I get an F?!”

“And that Ji Zhao,” Tong Wei spat, grinding her teeth. “Who does she think she is? The most useless, impoverished relative of the Ji family, not even fit to hold my shoes. Do you think I couldn’t make her withdraw from the competition if I wanted to?”

Ji Zhao, listening in the corner, felt herself drifting off to sleep.

Someone like Tong Wei was just posturing to warn onlookers that Ji Zhao wasn’t some helpless victim to be pushed around. But alone here, Ji Zhao couldn’t even be bothered to listen closely.

She vaguely heard Tong Wei curse Yu Cheng, then turn her venom on Ji Zhao. Just as Tong Wei was really getting worked up, Ji Zhao suddenly felt the weight of something heavy lift from her back.

A gust of wind swept through the hall.

Yu Cheng, who had been shielding her from the draft, stood up. She looked up blankly and asked in a hoarse voice, “What are you doing?”

Yu Cheng’s face was tense. “They’re insulting you.”

Ji Zhao froze. So what if they curse me? she thought. There’ll only be more people like that in the future. If I got angry at every one of them, I’d end up needing to be reborn again. Besides—

Before she could finish the thought, Yu Cheng had already walked out.

Ji Zhao was speechless.

The two girls who had been badmouthing her on the skydeck clearly hadn’t expected anyone to be there—especially the person they were talking about. Judging by Yu Cheng’s expression, she must have heard every single word.

Tang Ge’s face paled in fright, and she instinctively glanced at Tong Wei. Tong Wei’s face flushed crimson and then turned pale, but she stubbornly retorted, “What are you doing here?”

Yu Cheng stared at her silently.

Tong Wei’s courage began to waver. “Wh-what do you want? Listen, Yu Cheng, your father isn’t here. If a scandal gets out, your father will be the one who suffers!”

The moment the words left her lips, Yu Cheng raised her hand. Just as Tong Wei thought she was going to strike, Yu Cheng tightened her fingers into a blade-like strike and slammed her palm down onto a nearby pile of bricks.

Tong Wei and Tang Ge’s eyes widened in shock. Right before their eyes, the stacked bricks visibly cracked, then shattered into pieces.

“Holy shit!” Tang Ge gasped, trembling as she raised her hand. “It’s… it’s cracked…!”

Tong Wei couldn’t help but feel afraid.

Yu Cheng glared at them, making Tong Wei instinctively take a step back.

Tang Ge reacted faster, darting behind Tong Wei. She peeked out, her voice trembling. “If—if you’re gonna split the brick, b-brick, then don’t split me, o-okay…?”

Tong Wei: “……”

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