Transmigrated as the CEO's Top-Tier Stand-in - Chapter 100

Chapter 100

After the stage performance ended, Ji Yu bowed with the members and returned to the apartment. Coincidentally, people from the company arrived to distribute the gifts recently sent by fans. All were safety-checked and guaranteed safe, and snacks and drinks were also subjected to multiple layers of inspection. By the time the members received them, they represented the safest and most beautiful intentions of the fans.

Ji Yu only kept the letters sent by the fans. As for the bouquets, dolls, luxury items, and bags, she asked Kong Rufan to help return them to the original addresses. At the same time, she posted a statement on Weibo: She had received everyone’s kind intentions, but please do not spend too much money on her. The letters were kept, and the gifts had been returned.

Subsequently, she spread out the envelopes in her room, realizing they covered the entire bed. Yet, there were still two large boxes of unopened letters, and the ones on the bed were only those received recently. Ji Yu felt that reading them all would be a massive undertaking.

She looked at the handwriting and signatures on the envelopes one by one, not rushing to open them. As she looked through the rows, she suddenly noticed a very familiar handwriting and signature—Ji Yu was stunned and reached out to pick up the letter.

The envelope had a faint fragrance, and the paper choice was very deliberate, lacking the flashy patterns young people favored, but conveying a different kind of seriousness. Ji Yu gently stroked the envelope with her fingertips, and after a long moment, carefully opened and read it.

When Meng Rendong called, Ji Yu was still repeatedly looking at the letter. Answering the phone, she sniffled and spoke with a hint of a smile: “Rendong.”

“Caught a cold?” Meng Rendong didn’t miss the slight sound she just made.

Ji Yu shook her head, then realized the other party couldn’t see her actions. She slowly explained: “No, I… I’m reading the letters fans sent me.”

Hearing this, Meng Rendong dismissed the previous sniffle as a mistake and continued the conversation based on her topic: “Oh? How many have you read? Did the fans say a lot of things praising you?”

Ji Yu was silent for a moment. “No, the progress is very slow. I’ve only finished one so far.”

Meng Rendong noticed that Ji Yu’s mood seemed a bit off. She thought of the scene of taking Yu Su to see the D9 performance today. After it ended, they could have followed Wang Luoshui backstage, but Yu Su stared at the empty stage with a complex expression for a long time, then sighed and said to Meng Rendong:

“I’m a little tired. I’ll head back first.”

She did not go backstage to see Ji Yu. Meng Rendong was unsure if the mother and daughter truly wanted to meet at that moment, or if Ji Yu wanted to meet Yu Su as Chu Jianyu, so she simply let it go.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she heard Ji Yu whisper: “This letter… was written by my mom.”

Meng Rendong softly acknowledged it, seemingly understanding something, yet still somewhat vague.

Ji Yu felt she had many things to say, but the content lingered on the tip of her tongue, hesitant to come out. It eventually turned into inexplicable tears, falling down her face.

She said: “I… I don’t know how to face her anymore.”

Because of Chu Nanxing. Regardless, Chu Nanxing going insane had something to do with her. At that time, she also didn’t want to live, nor did she want fate to have its way, like a shattered ragdoll covered in pins, terrifyingly beautiful. Anyone who touched it would be cursed and suffer backlash.

How could Ji Yu face Yu Su? Her mother suffered so much because of her death. Later, knowing her younger daughter had harmed her elder, she was now driven mad, and caring for the younger daughter had already cost her too much heart and soul… She was willing to write such a letter, showing concern for Ji Yu’s life, like an intellectual pen pal, or a mother carefully learning to communicate with her child after making a mistake.

But she had clearly done nothing wrong.

Every time Ji Yu thought of Chu Nanxing, she felt an insurmountable chasm between herself and her mother, and the name of that chasm was death.

Meng Rendong heard her crying, feeling both heartbroken and empathetic. Yet, she suppressed these emotions and gently said: “Aunt Su came to watch your performance today.”

Ji Yu paused, asking in disbelief: “Really?”

Meng Rendong responded with an “Mhm,” and then said: “Don’t be afraid. Whether you want to maintain the current distance with them or restore your former relationship, you can take it slowly. Don’t put pressure on yourself.”

She knew Ji Yu’s illness was still in the treatment phase and she couldn’t handle too much pressure, especially in terms of interpersonal relationships. So, Meng Rendong patiently guided her.

Whatever Ji Yu decided—whether to resume contact with Aunt Su or something else—she would help. The most important thing now was to keep Ji Yu happy.

Ji Yu had felt heavy-hearted after reading the letter, but after casually chatting with Meng Rendong for just a few minutes, she felt that weight lighten considerably. She asked Meng Rendong about Yu Su’s recent situation. The conversation gradually became lighter, and then Ji Yu suddenly stopped talking.

Meng Rendong: “?” She asked: “Why did you suddenly stop talking?”

Ji Yu was lying in the beanbag chair by the bed, completely nestled in it. She lazily stared at the ceiling and the exquisite chandelier, slowly saying: “Nothing. You keep talking. I like listening to your voice.”

Meng Rendong smiled: “Suddenly acting cute?”

Ji Yu lazily hummed an “Mhm,” then sighed: “Yes, suddenly… I really miss you.”

Meng Rendong fell silent. An emotion called “yearning” spread between them, but she couldn’t rush to Ji Yu’s side immediately, comfort her, or do things lovers do.

Ji Yu’s throat moved, inexplicably choking up. Thinking this was probably due to her recent emotional fragility and would pass as her condition stabilized, she didn’t want Meng Rendong to notice and quickly changed the subject:

“Oh, by the way, Sister Kong gave me several scripts. They were all IPs bought by your company…”

Meng Rendong gently went along with her: “Mhm. Do you like any of them?”

“Yes,” Ji Yu said, “but I don’t think I can film it now.”

Meng Rendong: “Why do you say that?”

Ji Yu chuckled, a little embarrassed: “The script I like is She in the Shadows. There’s a character in it with severe depression. I thought I could deeply relate to the role, quickly get into character, and also draw more attention to the depression community among my fans… But Sister Kong rejected it for me.”

Meng Rendong was silent this time. She knew Kong Rufan’s reason for not letting Ji Yu take the role—she was worried about Ji Yu’s condition worsening. There were countless actors who couldn’t pull themselves out after empathizing too deeply with a role. More than a timeless masterpiece, Meng Rendong wanted Ji Yu to be safe and sound.

After a moment of contemplation, she sighed: “Baby, I agree with Manager Kong this time.”

Ji Yu chuckled, cooperating: “Mhm, I know… I liked the role before because I wanted to try some interesting choices, but I don’t want to anymore.”

Meng Rendong: “Oh? Really?”

Ji Yu answered earnestly: “Really.”

“Because… there are more important people and things that I cherish more… and there are other ways to achieve my goals. I don’t need to venture into areas that aren’t suitable for me.”

A week later.

Meng Rendong saw the foundation Ji Yu specifically established. She dedicated most of her earnings to the “Depression Patient Assistance Fund,” helping the development of psychological research and focusing on groups in society suffering from mental stress, providing them with free psychological consultation.

At the same time, Ji Yu incorporated new creative elements into her stage performances. Although the dances and songs were often melancholic, they always ended with an uplifting sense of strength, inadvertently attracting a lot of goodwill from the public.

She no longer participated in variety shows or took on acting roles, becoming known within D9 as the member whose “path was narrowing, only capable of singing and dancing,” unlike the others who developed across film, variety, and stage.

She was simply focused on singing and dancing.

Every time, Meng Rendong would attend her performances, whether group or solo, including her birthday fan appreciation events. Meng Rendong would also attend. However, apart from that one variety show, the media failed to dig up any more explosive news about them.

Everyone assumed they were just friends. Even though “Mendong-Yu” (Mènyú) CP content appeared online at this time, fans saw her in the front row at every stage, knowing she accompanied Ji Yu through those difficult treatment periods. They felt that no friend could do better than Meng Rendong… and even if they took it a step further, it seemed acceptable?

Some unethical media still enjoyed using them for hype, often listing those long-lasting one-sided crushes in the entertainment industry. Meng Rendong’s quiet guardianship over Ji Yu was already considered devotion.

But Meng Rendong did not publicly confess again. Ji Yu also never mentioned her in public, as if the past waves had subsided into calm after the storm.

Two years later, the time came for Dream9 to disband.

Two years was both short and long. It allowed Ling Lan to become a well-known rapper in the industry, blending ancient and modern culture, and releasing a highly distinctive solo album. It allowed Jin Huang to become a successful transitioning star with both popularity and acting skills. It allowed Rong Bai to become the most popular member of the entire group, and it allowed Jiang Lianque to become a regular guest on popular variety shows thanks to her talent, ensuring she would no longer worry about money.

Everyone’s careers were thriving. Ji Yu also created several popular singles during this time, though she inevitably faced criticism that her songs were “painful music”… and had an element of performance art.

But she didn’t care, and those around her didn’t care either.

For the Dream9 disbandment appreciation stage, fans still packed the venue. The colorful light sticks, and countless reluctant, sad tears flickered in the darkness.

They wore the same outfits as their debut stage. Ji Yu’s eye makeup was the same as before, adorned with the sparkling crystal decorations of the Big Dipper… Looking at it now, recalling the past, one couldn’t help but feel a sense of fate’s guidance. She was still as dazzling in the center position. It seemed that from the first stage, this makeup, this presence, was destined: the only queen here could be her!

The song Go! gave people strength back then, and it did so again now. Just the first song, the first dance, brought tears to the audience below, whether from emotion or reluctance. This was likely the last time all the audience would see them perform this dance together. From now on, the beautiful dream they created was about to end.

Dream9’s stages followed one after another, performing all the album tracks and public performances over the years, followed by individual showcases.

Ji Yu was the last to take the stage. When she came on, because the lights hadn’t fully brightened yet, she could use the orange glow from the front rows to clearly see the guests: aside from Si Tian and Meng Rendong, who never missed a show, Yu Su and Wang Luoshui were also present, along with Qi Feng and Night from TEB.

She walked up with her guitar, took the microphone, and, sitting on the high stool, greeted the mentors in the front row with a smile:

“Seeing Director Wang and the two mentors, I feel like I’m back two years ago.”

The live camera gave a shot of Wang Luoshui and Qi Feng. They also greeted the audience, and then Ji Yu slowly said: “I remember back then, when I participated in the Chasing Dreams 100 audition, I sang a song and played the guitar once.”

“I started with a song, so to have a good beginning and a good end… I also want to end this stage with a song.”

“Over the past two years, I’ve made several songs and dedicated them to you, hoping to bring you some strength for struggling and fighting. This time, I want to dedicate it to the person who originally gave me hope and pulled me back into the light.”

“A song called Us, dedicated to you—”

The sound of the guitar strumming slowly began, somewhat upbeat, a different melody than before. It made people think of spring breezes and autumn rain, those lingering, gentle, beautiful feelings, like first love.

“That year I picked a flower on a tree and accidentally picked you You were stunned, letting the breeze blow, looking down at your arms It was then that spring suddenly dropped its first rain You said time became gentle from that moment”

Her voice was light and soft, like cotton candy slowly melting in the mouth, sweet enough to make people feel like they were walking on clouds. They listened to Ji Yu sing segment after segment, as if witnessing a childhood story of innocence, where the protagonists slowly grew up but encountered a tragic future. They separated, they suffered. But they met in another world. They didn’t recognize their childhood playmate, but their eyes kept finding the other’s.

“The old storms have long drifted away The past sunrise and stars have also slowly dimmed In the dark night, I can’t find the path from before But you hold my hand Afraid I might get lost again”

The chorus was sung over and over. The sound of crying in the audience grew louder. They didn’t know if they were remembering their own first love, or reluctant to say goodbye to Ji Yu… or perhaps, sharing her sadness and heartache.

“In the dark night, I can’t find the path from before But you hold my hand Afraid I might get lost again”

“In the dark night, I can’t find the path from before I want to hold your hand Because you are my light”

The song ended. The guitar strings’ vibration slowly faded, the lingering sound stretched, and finally stopped. Ji Yu silenced the trembling strings and looked towards the audience.

She picked up the microphone again, wanting to say something, but her throat choked up, and she couldn’t utter a word. After a long pause, even her fans had already guessed what she was about to say.

Ji Yu put down the guitar and slowly spoke: “Today is the last time Dream9 will meet with everyone. Thank you for your immense love, which allowed me the privilege of being the captain in this group for two years.”

“I encountered some things in these two years. Some motivated me, some tried to defeat me again. Thanks to all your support, I persevered until now. I hope my performance did not disappoint you.”

The golden-orange ocean in the audience swayed left and right, like a golden sea, like the sunset falling into the ocean.

“No disappointment!!”

“Love you forever!”

“Keep going in the future!”

Ji Yu heard them. She smiled, then remembered something from the past: “Thank you all, and thank you to the first person who supported me with this official color. I don’t know if they’re here today, but I am very grateful to them for letting me be accompanied by this golden-orange ocean.”

In the front row. Si Tian gently nudged Meng Rendong with her elbow, subtly hinting at something. Meng Rendong had no intention of hiding, so she thought for a moment, turned on her phone’s flashlight, flipped the phone over, and waved it in the front row.

The light was not bright, but Ji Yu saw it.

The live broadcast camera also saw it, so all the audience could see… Meng Rendong’s face appear on screen.

Ji Yu’s eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly smiled. Meng Rendong also smiled back at her. Si Tian suddenly screamed! The audience followed suit!

Ji Yu held the microphone, her face flushing completely. She almost forgot what she was going to say. Fortunately, she was used to large crowds and finally calmed down, taking several deep breaths. The microphone faithfully amplified her breathing. Everyone could hear her nervousness.

She said: “I should have guessed.”

Then, her gaze flickered, quickly becoming firm again: “Today, I have one more thing to announce—”

“Two years of girl group life have fulfilled all my dreams. I am delighted to have met you all and to have received your love.”

“Next, I want to say goodbye to everyone, because I want to appear in another person’s dream. I am going to rush toward another companionship. She has waited for me for too long—”

“I also wish you all to have your own beautiful dreams.”

She put down the microphone. The other members of Dream9 walked out. Hand in hand, they bowed to the fans and said their farewells.

A beautiful dream, a dream created by the nation.

The time had come to wake up.

Half an hour later.

The fans, continuously shouting “Encore,” cried as they left the venue.

In a small residential area, inside an old house, Ji Yu drew the curtains, blocking the external flashlights and inquiring stares. She walked around the room, then turned back and smiled:

“This place hasn’t changed at all.”

Meng Rendong raised an eyebrow, walked to the side, and opened the door to the study, gesturing for her to look:

“Of course.”

Ji Yu curiously walked over and found that Meng Rendong had somehow restored the mirror setup inside, exactly as it was when she used to secretly dance behind her back.

“When did you…?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

Meng Rendong leaned against the door: “Guess?”

In Ji Yu’s smile, she pulled the person into her arms, took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent, and whispered:

“Every dance you dance from now on, you have to let me watch.”

Ji Yu chuckled and agreed, kissing her on the cheek. She then retreated from her embrace and bent down in an inviting pose:

“Not only let you watch—”

“I also want to dance with you. May I have the honor of seeing the skills of the former girl group top star?”

Meng Rendong gently pinched her cheek. Then, she placed her palm on Ji Yu’s, accepting the invitation.

The music started playing softly at some point. They were tightly pressed together in the dance studio, smelling the scent of the other person and feeling the warmth of their body—spinning, embracing, kissing.

Sweat streamed down.

Meng Rendong rubbed against her ear and asked: “Leaving like this, no regrets?”

Ji Yu blinked, intentionally rubbing against her waist: “Do you mean… you can bear it a little longer? Then fine, I’ll make a comeback right now and dance for two more years… Hey!”

Her soft cry was slightly melodious. At some point, she was pressed against the mirror, her body against the cold surface.

Meng Rendong bit her ear, saying fiercely: “Dream on!”

“I’ve been generous long enough—”

“From now on, this life, the next life, and the life after that, you can only be mine.”

Ji Yu looked into her eyes, solemnly, yet with a hint of vibrant playfulness:

“Yes, ma’am.”

—The End of the Main Story—

Support Transmigrated as the CEO’s Top-Tier Stand-in