Transmigrated as the CEO's Top-Tier Stand-in - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The system initially failed to find any news about Si Tian by searching her name. It then reviewed Si Tian’s performing career in Ji Yu’s original world and discovered that she had used an English name after her debut.

So, it searched the internet again using Si Tian’s debut English name. Sure enough, it found information about a disbanded girl group. In that group, Si Tian was neither the center nor particularly prominent, and the group itself wasn’t famous. Therefore, even if someone recalled the story of that girl group, a slight uncertainty would naturally arise in their mind:

Huh? Was that girl in the group at the time?

I don’t seem to remember?

Since the group was so obscure, it wasn’t surprising that Si Tian didn’t have a Weibo account. The system almost scoured all the connected memory databases and barely managed to piece together Si Tian’s contact information.

It was an email address.

But that was enough to be exhilarating. Compared to the despair of a fruitless search for a needle in a haystack, the system was now eager to tell Ji Yu the news, lest her anxiety grow from waiting too long.

Hearing the system recite the email address, Ji Yu gently exhaled, taking a long moment to respond:

“…Okay.”

She was distractedly thinking that an email was quite good. At least it was easier than relying on Si Tian to pass by, and having to quickly figure out how to leave the show to meet her. This way, they could arrange a time to see each other.

But… what if Si Tian doesn’t check her email?

How has she been living since she came to this world?

Ji Yu was preoccupied with these questions, so much so that she didn’t notice Ling Lan and Jiang Lianque arriving together. When she finally snapped back, she realized she had added too much sesame paste to her plate of cold chicken noodles and was planning to keep this particular plate for herself—

But Ling Lan loved sesame paste the most. Smelling the aroma, she didn’t even bother to brush away the sweat-dampened hair on her cheek. Like a groundhog, she leaned over to sniff, then took the plate in front of Ji Yu, grinning:

“Beautiful Yu is so good! How did you know I love sesame paste?”

Ji Yu was momentarily stunned by the sudden new nickname, then smiled helplessly, handing her chopsticks. She then glanced over and noticed that Jiang Lianque, who was usually meticulous and kind, was staring blankly at her cold noodles nearby. Ji Yu couldn’t help but look closer.

Unfortunately, she didn’t possess Jiang Lianque’s extreme observational skills, and the other person’s unusual behavior was only momentary, so she didn’t notice anything, putting it down to her own misperception.

Chu Nanxing saw more people arriving and, with her excellent acting skills, concealed her previous thoughts. She secretly observed the people around Ji Yu and noticed that this minor supporting character, who only had three and a half stars of importance in the storyline, was surrounded by very capable contestants who were highly likely to make the debut roster…

She couldn’t help but narrow her eyes.

She felt a sense of threat, inexplicably.

Logically, shouldn’t these talented people be circling around her, the protagonist? By what virtue did Ji Yu, a minor supporting character, deserve this? Could merely gaining Meng Rendong’s favor really increase her screen time so much?

She began to ponder new ways to influence Meng Rendong, while also refusing to overlook the people around Ji Yu—

Chu Nanxing carried her noodles and walked to a corner of the kitchen, turning her back to the others. When no one was paying attention, she quietly pulled back the semi-transparent water curtain and quickly scanned Jiang Lianque’s personal file.

Soon after, she returned with an empty plate, placed it on the counter, and suddenly started asking about Jiang Lianque’s practice status.

This topic was most likely to resonate with the trainees on the show. Furthermore, Jiang Lianque was always friendly and answered almost every question. Both were currently members of Class A and shared a sense of recognition as strong performers, having only recently met.

Ji Yu was halfway through her noodles, listening to Ling Lan chatter about dancing. She and Jiang Lianque had chosen a song-and-dance piece with a relatively subtle style, not entirely focused on vocals or rap. Ji Yu had a foundation from learning Peking Opera as a child, giving her a unique habit in learning dance. Who knew Jiang Lianque was an oddball?

“Sister Que is amazing. After memorizing all the moves… she learns them in halves! She learns all the lower body movements first, then the upper body movements, then memorizes the beat points for both simultaneously, and finally strings them together—”

“I suspect her brain is like a computer, capable of copying and pasting?”

“But her body isn’t flexible enough. There’s one move she can never get right. She’s been stretching every morning. And she has so many Jiejies (older sisters) around her giving her water and towels, even helping her relax. I’m so jealous…”

As Ling Lan spoke, her eyes filled with longing. She looked like she wanted a taste of the ancient Emperor’s court life with three thousand concubines.

She finished by shaking her head and commenting: “With hair like clouds and a face like flowers, sisters sway; the dance studio’s warmth is like a spring night.”

Ji Yu: “…!”

She raised her hand to cover Ling Lan’s mouth again, then looked around the kitchen, worried that her post-meal poetry—especially the suggestive kind—might be recorded by an unseen camera.

She whispered a reminder to Ling Lan: “Tone it down. Do you want to trend on a hot search list?”

Ling Lan also knew how popular the show was now. She pouted, then blinked her eyes, sending non-stop signals to Ji Yu, implying she would be obedient from now on. After Ji Yu reluctantly let go, Ling Lan planted a kiss on her cheek and then rambled on:

“I have Jiejies now too!”

“I’ll agree to whatever Beautiful Yu says!”

Ji Yu was unilaterally teased for a while and couldn’t handle it, so she had to turn to look for external help. She saw Rong Bai holding her noodles, asking the cameraman outside to capture the dish with perfect lighting, and even requesting the cameraman to send her the picture later when she got her phone back, so she could share her wonderful life on Dream Chasing 100 with her friends abroad.

As for Jiang Lianque… she was chatting happily with Chu Nanxing, while also remembering to share the noodles in her plate with the other companions who had come for the food.

Ji Yu still had a residual smile on her face, but a frown appeared when she saw Chu Nanxing and Jiang Lianque getting closer. She felt that Chu Nanxing was up to something again.

She asked the system to keep an eye on the situation over there, then turned back to Ling Lan with a smile:

“I’m going back to the classroom to practice a bit more.”

“Are you heading back now, or…?”

Ling Lan waved her hand: “Go ahead. I’m pretty much done here. The rest depends on the mentors’ evaluations tomorrow. Just leave the plates and bowls here; I’ll clean them up for you. I’m heading back to my room soon.”

Ji Yu nodded in agreement.

Time passed.

Ji Yu paused in the classroom, casually wiping the sweat from her forehead. She realized it was already past four in the morning. She sat cross-legged on the floor, twisted the cap off a bottle of water, and, uncharacteristically, drank half the bottle down without letting it warm up first.

Placing the water bottle by her feet, she sat there in a daze, seemingly emptying her mind.

Until the system whispered a reminder: “Yuyu…”

Ji Yu snapped out of it, looked at the wall clock, and gently sighed, responding: “Mmm, I know, but… it’s the middle of the night now. I’m afraid I’ll disturb her rest.”

The system hesitated for two seconds, then squeezed out a reminder: “But it’s an email, Yuyu…”

Unless Si Tian stayed up all night and constantly checked her email, she wouldn’t see the message immediately. If Si Tian was awake, there was no chance of waking her up. Conversely, if Si Tian was asleep, she wouldn’t be woken up by an email.

It couldn’t quite understand Ji Yu’s emotion.

Ji Yu laughed at herself. She had been so anxious before, but now that she had time to think, she felt a sense of apprehension, like someone approaching home after a long journey, or a defendant awaiting a verdict, afraid the outcome would be too heavy to bear.

After laughing, she sighed, finally deciding to cut through the tangled mess of thoughts. She told the system: “Then… can you help me send her an email?”

The system quickly asked: “Okay! What should it say?”

4:50 AM.

Inside a rental apartment in a residential complex in the city.

An old display monitor with worn edges sat on a dark wooden desk. The rectangular screen had a spiderweb-like crack in one corner, but it didn’t significantly affect viewing. It was currently emitting a faint glow.

The secondhand computer host had poor heat dissipation, and its constant humming formed the persistent noise in the room.

The only other sounds were the crisp clicks of the mouse, whose brand name had been worn away, as it was occasionally used.

A slender figure sat on a stool, staring intently at the open webpage. It was mostly blank, with only a progress bar slowly and laboriously crawling forward at the top. She didn’t mind. She moved the mouse, clicked open a page next to it, and continued reading the previous news.

Looking closely, the names on the side-by-side web pages were clearly:

“Dream Chasing 100 Latest Scoop…”

“Rabbit Zone Gossip Group [Confession] ZM Production Team…”

“Contestants You Don’t Know in Dream Chasing 100…”

All the topics were related to the current hottest national selection show, Dream Chasing 100. The cold, faint light of the screen reflected on the face facing it, vaguely coating the contours with a layer of coldness. The person had a strikingly beautiful face, but perhaps due to a reversed routine or some other reason, there were faint dark circles under her eyes, and her dark pupils seemed a little vacant.

Her long hair was draped casually. Seeing the link she had just clicked open, she clicked back to the previous page.

The gossip headline read: “Let’s talk about your impression of Sister Ji Yu from the start of the show until now!”

Inside, there were elaborate praises, calling Ji Yu beautiful, kind-hearted, and talented, urging people to vote for her. Others were sarcastic, saying Ji Yu didn’t try her best in the first performance and deliberately hid her skills. There were even some paid trolls, whose origin was unknown, claiming with fabricated detail that they were classmates with Ji Yu and had witnessed her doing bad things during her school days.

Seeing this comment, the person in front of the computer gently opened her lips and let out a faint sound: “Heh.”

Finding no useful information, she was about to close the messy webpage when the mouse wheel instinctively scrolled down a bit more, and she saw two comments:

89L: “Ah, isn’t this the Sister from Class F I watched in the beginning? Is she this good now? I didn’t expect to accidentally find this treasure… I will continue to follow her! I’ll also follow up on the question I brought up initially. I wonder if her situation is any better now!”

90L: “I still remember her eyes. I noticed her in the first episode because of her eyes. I suspected it was occupational hazard at the time, but I happen to have a few similar cases on hand recently. I was thinking of reminding the production team if I got the chance. The story Ji Yu told in the interview, plus her performance in the first episode, makes me reasonably suspect she has a tendency toward depression.”

Under these two comments, most replies were “????”

Some wanted to see the poster’s professional certification to determine if she was spreading rumors, while others seriously followed the clues provided by the poster, analyzed the experiences Ji Yu described, and increasingly found the suspicion plausible.

The person in front of the screen saw all the debate.

She had stopped scrolling at some point, staring at the words for a long time, until.

An email notification suddenly popped up in the lower right corner.

She initially thought it was spam and was about to click the ‘x,’ but then glimpsed the brief content. The email started with:

“Si Tian, I am Ji Yu…”

The mouse suddenly clicked on the email uncontrollably, opening the entire message.

The content was very brief, just a few lines:

“Si Tian, I am Ji Yu.

How are you doing?

My phone number is: xxxx

I hope you see this email, and I hope you know… I miss you very much. I will wait for you to contact me.”

Such a simple few lines, yet written with unknown depth of feeling from Ji Yu. After reading it repeatedly, Si Tian felt a sudden pang in her heart:

Someone knew she was still alive.

Someone still cared about how she was doing.

This care and warmth seemed so far removed from her that when she recalled it, she could no longer remember what that temperature felt like. It was as if she had been soaked in an ice spring for too long, having forgotten what warmth felt like.

She reached out to touch the screen, as if Ji Yu had sent her a paper letter instead of an email, allowing her to feel the emotion in every word and stroke through the touch.

Then, Si Tian smiled very faintly.

But her eyes still lacked luster.

Such a good person.

She used to watch Ji Yu hovering around her every day, looking at her with those beautiful, gentle peach blossom eyes full of concentration.

But she wasn’t looking at her.

Si Tian thought, If Ji Yu found out that the person she was thinking about wasn’t actually herself, how disappointed would Ji Yu be?

Recalling what she had just seen on the webpage, and thinking that Ji Yu’s current state wasn’t very good, she didn’t know how she and Ji Yu both ended up in this strange world, or how she survived her death…

But Si Tian couldn’t help but wonder if she should avoid dealing another blow to Ji Yu.

She was born unlucky. Her parents disliked her, and her teachers and friends didn’t like her either. Later, even though she achieved excellent results in her work by borrowing the ability of “Meng Rendong,” and even stepped onto that magnificent stage, everything plummeted back into the mud once the “Meng Rendong” personality disappeared.

Si Tian realized she still couldn’t do anything right, and was still extremely disliked.

This world had never changed, and neither had she.

She wouldn’t find any salvation. The so-called miracle was just a trick by fate, giving her hope, humiliating her severely, and then taking it all back again.

She shouldn’t have come into this world in the first place, which is why after clinging to life for so long, she chose to silently end it.

But fate seemed to not be done laughing at her.

It made her live again.

It even let such a dazzling girl reappear in her life, as if wanting to see her unable to resist reaching out for help, wanting to desperately crawl out of the darkness to grasp the light source.

But this light didn’t belong to her and might even be extinguished if she tried to possess it.

Si Tian quietly stared at the email for a long time, then calmly closed the page, as if she had never seen it. When she was little, she was often cursed as a “jinx,” always seeming to bring disaster to those around her and always caught in misfortune.

She thought that she should stay far away from Ji Yu now. Because she didn’t know how to tell Ji Yu the fact that the person she was constantly worried about was already gone. Now that life was starting over, she still didn’t dare to tell her.

She knew too well what it felt like to have hope only to fall into despair. That would snap the long-held string in Ji Yu’s heart instantly.

So, let it be this way.

Let Ji Yu keep hoping.

And she, as always, would live alone in this boring world, only occasionally looking up at the distant light.

10:45 AM, the next morning.

Ji Yu sat in the corner of the dance studio, watching the other groups finish their rehearsal. Listening to the mentor’s critique, she lowered her head and asked the system: “Any news?”

The system hesitated and said: “Maybe she hasn’t woken up yet? After all, she used to pull all-nighters in the entertainment industry. Maybe her life is more relaxed now, so she’s taking it easy?”

Ji Yu was worried: “People generally don’t sleep that long, do they?”

Saying this, she started thinking of many miserable stories and scenarios.

The system stopped her in time: “She won’t, Yuyu! Didn’t you say you two looked for jobs together before? She has many skills now. She won’t be in such a terrible situation.”

Ji Yu: “But…”

She mumbled a little more before reluctantly stopping the topic, patiently waiting as the clock ticked by.

6:00 PM.

Ji Yu asked the system with some concern: “People generally don’t sleep for this long, do they?”

The system wracked its brains: “Maybe she went out and doesn’t have the habit of checking the internet, or maybe she abandoned this email address?”

Ji Yu was a little disappointed: “That’s true. Maybe she didn’t see it.”

The next day.

Ji Yu spoke again in her mind: “System…”

The system still hadn’t received a reply. It didn’t want Ji Yu to hear sad news, nor did it want her to keep worrying about this. It proactively changed the subject: “Yuyu! Let’s do a draw! You haven’t done a draw in a long time. This is your fifteenth consecutive one!”

Ji Yu let out a lacklustre “Ah,” assuming the system was holding back some gift or surprise for her. Unwilling to disappoint the system, she nodded in agreement. But when the system started listing the types of cards available, she didn’t hear a single word.

Long after the system’s voice faded, she spoke again: “Did something happen to her…?”

Saying this, she first spat a few times, then the expression in her eyes visibly darkened.

The system could only apologize softly:

“I’m sorry, Yuyu.”

“Maybe she’s not using the email address I found. I should have contacted her first before telling you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made you happy for nothing.”

Hearing the system apologize, Ji Yu managed a weak smile, shook her head, and distracted herself to comfort the system: “I should be thanking you. I know you’re trying your best to help me. It’s just that I’m always impatient, and I’ve made you anxious too—”

“It’s okay. I’ll find her eventually.”

The system echoed her with “Mm-hmm” and offered several more words of encouragement.

It wasn’t until Ji Yu had practiced until she was sweating profusely, returned to her room at night, and lay awake in bed for a long time, that she suddenly asked it:

“System.”

“She will definitely come looking for me too, right?”

If Si Tian saw the email, she would definitely contact her.

Because she knows how anxious I am, how much I want to see her.

Si Tian definitely wouldn’t want to see me this worried, right?

The system answered her loudly:

“Yes!”

“Because the person who can make you like them so much definitely wouldn’t want to see you sad!”

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