I Became the Top Competitor in a Talent Show Novel - Chapter 2

She asked in a half-questioning way, her eyes fixed on Chi Meng’s fingertips.

This girl had a pair of beautiful hands. With the numbing alcohol glistening in her palms, they looked like delicate works of art. The drinks she had ordered were neatly arranged by the young waiter, bottles lined up by height and type, resembling a rolling mountain range. Closest to her was a lavish complimentary fruit platter, solidly blocking half the bottles from view.

The woman’s dark gaze deepened as her teeth bit down hard on the cigarette filter, leaving deep marks. She switched hands, holding the cigarette with the one further away from the waiter.

“Of course.”
Chi Meng heard the young woman nearby laugh, her clear voice soft as water. “As long as you don’t burn a hole in the sofa.”

Song Jiaqi paused for a moment, glanced at the waiter tidying up, unaware that the earnest Chi Meng was quietly sighing to 019 in her heart.

Kids nowadays, really into both smoking and drinking.

“Mhm.” The girl didn’t seem to want to continue talking. Her gaze shifted toward the screen.

On the screen, a character shrieked in terror. The reflection of the film flickered in the girl’s black pupils, yet her line of sight seemed unfocused, falling nowhere.

As usual, Chi Meng said, “Please call me if you need anything,” before stepping out of the room, waiting outside the door.

“See? Being eighteen doesn’t always mean being lively. You can be all deep and brooding too.” Chi Meng muttered to 019.

019 was speechless and quietly deleted the program line, “Daily reminder: Host should act their age.”

Soon, the late-night crowd flooded in, especially the students who had just finished their yearlong college entrance exam prep. The supposedly soundproof doors could not block their howling. Even in the VIP corridor, their ghostly wails could be heard.

Keeping in mind that VIP guests were “gods among gods,” Chi Meng brought two more fruit platters to the mysterious guest from before. Unfortunately, the guest seemed allergic to fruit—every platter returned untouched. Chi Meng passed them to colleagues to share and instead delivered small desserts to the guest.

The horror movie was still playing inside. The sullen guest glanced at her when she came in, silent until finally reaching for a piece of dessert, taking one bite before setting it down again.

“Forget it…”

Her voice was so low that Chi Meng had to lean closer to hear. But after waiting half a minute with no further words, she turned her head only to see the guest’s eyes closed, long lashes casting shadows against bluish eyelids.

Quietly, Chi Meng left the room.

She worked until deep into the night before switching shifts with a colleague, then went to the staff room to sleep until morning.

Half-asleep, she heard a shrill voice screeching:
“Some people are so poor they don’t even have a place to sleep. Might as well get a job with room and board instead of hogging space here!”

Rubbing her eyes, Chi Meng sighed inwardly and got up.

This was the VIP staff break room, one bed per person. But since the other VIP waiters always went home after their shifts, the room had slowly turned into a shared resting spot for other employees—until Chi Meng took a part-time job here. The other workers resented her for “taking their space.”

Of course, that wasn’t the only problem. Before she arrived, open VIP positions were sometimes given to regular staff. The pay was higher and included commission from drinks, so naturally many wanted the spot. But Chi Meng had been parachuted in, stirring jealousy and bitterness.

Life really is amusing, Chi Meng thought, glancing at the door.

Sure enough, the lock had been tampered with again. Two women stood at the doorway like guardian deities, blocking her way while cursing under their breath—fierce enough to rival the horror film she’d watched last night.

Ignoring them, she washed up, then smiled under their glares.

“Liu-jie, Li-jie, thank you for your effort. Back in the day there was the story of ‘rising at the crow of a rooster to practice the sword.’ Now I have the two of you personally waking me up every day. You’re so dedicated.”

“Who the hell are you calling names, brat?” The two instantly snapped, heads raised in defiance. “Think you’re better than us just because you studied two days longer? If you’re so great, why are you here stealing our jobs? Go back to school!”

The other chimed in immediately, “Li-jie, I know the type. These little girls rely on their looks, hang out with shady men, get into fights, sneak off for abortions—up to no good! That’s why they start working early!”

Li-jie jumped on it: “Exactly! I heard the same. Pretending to study hard for exams? What a joke. Let’s see how many points you actually get!”

Chi Meng shrugged. “You two are experienced, I’ll take your word for it.”

She even sighed softly, “Your youth really was colorful. I used to think skipping class was already the peak of rebellion. Turns out I was narrow-minded.”

The two women choked. They had been the loudest in the hallway, but her soft-spoken remark shoved the words right back down their throats. It was like punching cotton—frustrating and useless. Angrier, they raised their voices even louder, as if volume could prove them right.

“Excuse me, can you move?” Chi Meng’s ears ached from the noise.

Just then, a figure appeared in the corridor—it was Ling-jie from the front desk. Hands on hips, she scolded sharply: “What are you doing? Are you here to work or to fight? If you want to fight, take it home!”

Ling-jie held some authority, and the two women, though unwilling, glared at Chi Meng before retreating into their own lounge.

“You’ve got quite the temper,” Ling-jie frowned at Chi Meng. “They were cursing you to your face, and you didn’t even curse back? People think you stole their job. As if without you, they’d get the VIP post. If they were so capable, why didn’t their so-called ‘connections’ transfer them already? Why waste time being jealous of a student?”

From the side, a door clicked shut, locking from the inside.

“Thank you, Ling-jie,” Chi Meng said, smiling with curved eyes.

Ling-jie looked at her calm, youthful face. Somehow her own anger dissolved. She patted Chi Meng’s shoulder. This kid wasn’t very old, yet her temperament was so mild, almost unreadable. Even when bullied, she acted like it was nothing. Were kids nowadays all like this?

“Oh right!” Ling-jie suddenly remembered. “Something happened in the VIP room. The guest specifically asked to see you.”

Chi Meng raised her brows and followed her to the VIP corridor.

Outside the mysterious guest’s room from last night, two unfamiliar women were frowning and whispering. Passing them, Chi Meng opened the door.

A strong stench of alcohol hit her.

Harsh sunlight streamed in. Empty bottles lay scattered across the floor, the table piled high with more bottles. The ashtray was stuffed with cigarette butts.

On the screen, a horror-film ghost screamed endlessly—clearly left looping all night. Chi Meng frowned; she remembered switching it to a famous fairy tale movie before leaving yesterday.

Her gaze moved across the room. In the center stood a well-dressed older woman, makeup flawless but face twisted in anger. Following her line of sight, Chi Meng looked toward the sofa.

The guest from last night lay motionless there.

Her slender arm dangled off the sofa, faint blue veins visible beneath pale skin. Her delicate, art-like fingers hung in midair, kissed by sunlight, glowing warm like a still-life painting frozen against the messy backdrop.

“Song Jiaqi! The person you asked for is here! Get up, stop pretending to be dead!” the older woman—clearly a relative—shouted. She rubbed her temples, then pointed at the screen. “Turn that thing off—eh?”

Meng Limin stared at Chi Meng’s face, momentarily stunned.

The room had a deliberately dark décor. Two faint blue logo lights glowed softly in the daylight, scattering across the girl who stood tall like a bamboo stalk. The specially designed uniform seemed to take on a different flavor on her: the black belt cinched her narrow waist, her long legs together, posture straight, her bright smile dazzling.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

Even her voice was clean.

Perfect.

Meng Limin clenched her fists. If not for the timing, she would have sighed aloud. Instead, she raised her voice: “Song Jiaqi! Wake up!”

Uncertain what was happening, Chi Meng did her duty and turned off the movie.

The girl on the sofa finally stirred. She let out a low laugh, slowly sitting up. With trembling hands, she swept black hair from her shoulder, revealing her face.

Black strands slipped between her pale fingertips, more falling across her flushed cheeks. Beneath them, her eyes appeared darker still—bottomless.

“This is the one. Sign her. Don’t worry about me.”

Her voice was hoarse, weaker than last night, wilted like a flower beaten down by endless rain.

Chi Meng blinked in confusion—until 019 screamed in her head, deafening her.

“WHAT?! Song Jiaqi?! The female supporting role from Glorious Stardom?! The one who dominated half the entertainment industry, the powerful, radiant, unstoppable villainess that the heroine struggled for ages to defeat—Song Jiaqi?!!”

“Why on earth is she here, drinking herself into a stupor?”

Chi Meng’s head buzzed from the noise. Frowning, she looked at the drunken girl on the sofa.

The girl’s delicate hand groped for a bottle. Pale fingers whitened with strain as she lifted it, spilling red liquid everywhere—splattering all over herself.

Caught off guard, drenched in alcohol, her eyes widened slowly. Crimson spread across her face like creeping vines, curling at the corners of her eyes, blossoming into a lingering flush.

Her wet lashes trembled, beaded with droplets. More liquor dripped from her forehead, sliding down pale skin to her lips, then trailing along her chin, staining her chest before seeping into her clothes.

Her soaked blouse clung tightly to her body, the fabric tinged red, the skin at her collarbone stark as snow.

The scent of wine thickened in the air, mixing with the already suffocating alcohol haze.

Dust motes drifted in the light. The girl suddenly lifted her gaze at Chi Meng, raising a brow, lips curling. Yet her eyes were like a frostbitten wasteland shrouded by black clouds, a lonely wind scattering brittle weeds into a desolate sky.

Chi Meng: “…”

Radiant? Powerful? Unstoppable?

Where?

Who?

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