I Struggle to Survive in a Girl Group [Transmigration] - Chapter 3

Why did An Qing say she liked her when they first met?

Was it because she was new and insecure, seeking comfort in her nominal fiancée? Or was it because she knew the original An Qing had made too many mistakes and feared retaliation?

Or perhaps, was it simply love at first sight?

Recalling the pitiful sight of the girl blushing, shivering in the cold wind, yet stubbornly insisting she liked her, a mischievous glint flickered in Yu Tingbai’s dark eyes.

So obedient and timid, what was she so afraid of?

This gift from fate was truly too amusing.

As a way to spice up her otherwise dull life, teasing her a little could be quite entertaining.

Yu Tingbai then thought of the eerie female voice that had called itself the “Compensation System 97041.”

The voice had suddenly appeared in her mind that afternoon, after An Qing excused herself from the practice room, claiming she was unwell.

[Yu Tingbai, greetings.]

[Due to the original An Qing’s malicious behavior, she has been sent to another world for reformation. The transmigrated An Qing will accompany you through a pleasant period of time.]

The voice briefly introduced An Qing’s past experiences and personality before transmigration, repeatedly assuring her that this An Qing was a good person and quite interesting.

The sheer amount of information was overwhelming, and even the usually unflappable Yu Tingbai couldn’t help but stop her.

“Is this for real?”

The system was sparing with words.

[Yes.]

[Also, please do not reveal An Qing’s identity as a transmigrator to anyone for now.]

Thinking of the system’s earlier mention of “interesting,” Yu Tingbai mused, “Fine, I’ll play… no, I mean, I’ll get to know her first.”

[Be kind.]

[Well then, goodbye.]

Yu Tingbai: “You’re leaving just like that?”

[In a hurry to clock out.]

Yu Tingbai: …

Alright, fellow wage slave.

The system came and went quickly. Over the next few hours, Yu Tingbai began to wonder if she had trained too hard and started hallucinating.

But the drastic changes in An Qing’s behavior soon reminded her that this was all real.

Hearing the door open, An Qing jerked her head up.

Yu Tingbai stepped out, her damp hair cascading down her back. She wore a velvet nightgown that revealed slender ankles, her skin a cool porcelain white, glowing softly under the light like polished jade. Her lips, moistened, looked even redder and fuller.

An Qing instantly forgot which part of the song she was on, stammering out a greeting.

“Y-you’re done showering?”

Yu Tingbai hummed in response, sitting down on the lower bunk beside An Qing, tilting her head slightly as she combed through her wet hair.

“Sing it once first,” she said. “I’ll teach you the parts you don’t know.”

An Qing: Despair.jpg

Yu Tingbai had only taken twenty minutes to shower. Even if she were a prodigy, there was no way she could have learned an entire song in such a short time.

Gritting her teeth, she made a monumental decision.

“I’m sorry, I lied.”

What lie?

Yu Tingbai’s comb paused mid-stroke. For some reason, the first image that flashed through her mind was An Qing’s flushed face as she confessed her feelings outside the convenience store.

An Qing continued, “Actually, I haven’t practiced this song enough yet.”

The comb smoothly glided through her hair again.

Yu Tingbai lifted her gaze. “Then practice more tonight.”

“I’ll go to the practice room right now, don’t worry.”

An Qing nodded obediently, adding earnestly, “I’ll learn the song tonight I won’t hold up the team’s progress.”

Yu Tingbai had never imagined that the face before her could ever look pleasing to the eye.

It was honestly a bit unsettling.

She averted her gaze and replied coolly, “Alright.”

Then she heard the sound of the door opening, followed by An Qing’s soft voice.

“Get some rest. I’ll bring you breakfast tomorrow.”

For a professional girl group member, staying up late to practice and compose songs was nothing unusual.

So after a night of intense training in the practice room, An Qing felt no discomfort.

She practiced until past five in the morning, then wandered around the training camp, familiarizing herself with the layout.

The system was really something dragging her into this world without warning and providing zero information, leaving her to figure everything out on her own.

It was a shame her phone had been confiscated; otherwise, she could have gathered much more useful intel.

An Qing made a mental note: the first thing she’d do after the audition was over would be to thoroughly examine the original owner’s phone to avoid slipping up.

By the time she returned to the dorm, it was just six o’clock. Yu Tingbai was already dressed and freshening up.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, offering a glimpse of Yu Tingbai’s flawlessly defined profile.

Hearing the noise, she turned her head and greeted first, “Morning.”

“Morning.”

An Qing smiled at her, walked to the desk, cleared a small space among the clutter, and set the breakfast down. As she sat, her mind began to churn again.

From last night until now, Yu Tingbai, despite her teasing remarks, hadn’t done anything harmful or shown the slightest hostility. On the contrary, she had been rather considerate.

But given the original owner’s past behavior, this situation shouldn’t have been possible.

Was this the calm before the storm,?

Lost in thought, An Qing suddenly felt the light beside her dim as Yu Tingbai sat down next to her.

A faint, delicate floral scent drifted into her senses.

An Qing steadied herself and pushed the breakfast toward Yu Tingbai, murmuring, “Let’s eat together.”

She was starving and had bought back anything that looked appetizing.

After all, according to the novel’s setting, money was no object for her.

This was a comforting thought for An Qing, who had grown up poor.

“Alright.”

Yu Tingbai unpacked the food containers one by one, and the aroma quickly filled the small dorm room. She handed An Qing chopsticks and a spoon, asking, “Didn’t sleep last night?”

“Nope, was practicing songs.”

An Qing didn’t even look up as she stuffed an entire shumai into her mouth, chewing vigorously. With her high metabolism, she was always prone to hunger, and after a whole night of singing practice, she was practically starving.

Mmm, shrimp filling delicious!

An Qing was thoroughly satisfied and washed it down with a big gulp of soy milk.

Once she had eaten her fill, An Qing headed to the practice room with Yu Tingbai.

From afar, she could see the lights were already on inside. Pushing the door open, she was met with bright lighting, spotless wooden floors, and a massive mirror covering the entire wall.

It was still early, and the training instructor hadn’t arrived yet. A few trainees were warming up their voices with lyrics in hand.

The scene instantly brought back memories of An Qing’s own trainee days, stirring a faint melancholy in her heart.

“Tingbai, An Qing, you’re here.”

A pretty girl sitting in the corner was the first to greet them.

She wore her hair in a sweet princess style, with sparkling eyes and pearly white teeth, her voice melodious.

An Qing’s gaze landed on the name tag on her sweatshirt Shen Siqi.

She had some impression of this person. Shen Siqi was one of the contestants who ultimately made it into the final group the main vocalist, a powerhouse singer.

Her personality was incredibly likable, sometimes a bit silly and absentminded, making her the group’s mood-maker.

As for the other two, they were probably her teammates for this performance. One was Chu Qing, who seemed bold and straightforward, while the other was Song Rongrong, more of the delicate and refined type.

The two girls looked and acted completely different, but they shared one thing in common: they both looked down on An Qing, the so-called “vase” who had gotten in through connections. They greeted Yu Tingbai with smiles but were much colder toward An Qing, merely nodding at her.

Under Chu Qing’s direction, the group formed a circle to discuss vocal assignments.

After the team assignments were finalized yesterday, many details had already been settled. Chu Qing was the leader, Yu Tingbai was the center, Shen Siqi was in charge of vocal coaching, Chu Qing handled the rap, and Song Rongrong, who excelled at dancing, would help everyone learn and refine the choreography.

The biggest problem their group faced right now was deciding which part to assign to the utterly useless An Qing.

After a moment of silence, it was Yu Tingbai who spoke first.

She asked, “An Qing, which part do you want to sing?”

An Qing replied, “Any is fine.”

She wasn’t lying. After last night’s intense cramming, she was back on her game.

Instantly, the gazes of the other three snapped onto her. Though no one said anything, An Qing could practically see the words “Where did you get that confidence?” plastered across their foreheads.

An Qing blinked innocently at them, about to speak, when Chu Qing cut in, “Let An Qing take the opening lines. The first few lines of this song aren’t hard.”

Song Rongrong immediately objected, “The opening is crucial. It needs to leave a good impression on the audience.”

Chu Qing suggested another option, “Then how about the part right after Siqi’s? That way, she can be guided along.”

Shen Siqi cautiously spoke up, “I can’t just guide anyone, you know.”

Chu Qing snapped, “Well, we can’t let her rap either! Is the bar for rap really that low?”

An Qing: “???”

Hey, she could hear them, you know!

Her head throbbed, and she proposed, “How about I sing it through first, and you can decide which part suits me best?”

That was actually a reasonable suggestion. The reason no one had brought it up was that no one expected An Qing to have learned the entire song overnight.

Shen Siqi nervously covered her ears with her hands. “Go ahead and sing.”

An Qing: “…”

Just how bad had her singing been before?

After a brief pause, An Qing sang the first line.

Yu Tingbai turned to look at her, a flicker of surprise in her calm eyes.

An Qing quickly immersed herself in the music. Her voice was unique ethereal and clear, with a soft, sweet undertone that made it memorable. Her pitch control was effortless, and she handled the transitions and runs with ease.

Moreover, An Qing sang with deep emotion, perfectly capturing the song’s fiery yet sorrowful battle spirit.

Her eyes lowered to the lyrics, the overhead light casting delicate shadows from her lashes onto her cheeks, making her appear fragile yet beautiful.

Shen Siqi had already lowered her hands from her ears and was humming along softly.

Even Chu Qing and Song Rongrong, who had barely spared her a glance earlier, couldn’t help but tap along to the beat when the chorus hit.

By the time An Qing finished singing, she felt pretty good about her performance.

If she had to rate it, she’d give herself at least a ninety out of a hundred.

She smiled at the group and asked, “So, what do you think?”

“An Qing,” Shen Siqi called her name, her big eyes sparkling.

This was clearly leading up to a compliment.

An Qing happily braced herself for the incoming praise.

Only to see Shen Siqi burst into tears of joy: “Let’s see who dares to mock me for being a little ox pulling a broken cart now!”

Noticing An Qing’s strange look, she froze for two seconds before clumsily adding, “Uh, not that I’m calling you a broken cart or anything.”

An Qing:

Shen the Little Ox, that explanation just made it worse!