Chapter 16

Ji Changyin couldn’t tell if it was just her imagination, but the room seemed to have gotten even quieter.

The comments soon started coming in again, but they did nothing to dispel the awkwardness she felt.

She couldn’t help sneaking another glance at Xu Chaomu, hoping to see what was on her face.

Nothing.

“What’s wrong?” Xu Chaomu asked.

Ji Changyin said nothing.

“People see chemistry between everyone and everything. You’ll get used to it.”

“…”

“Honestly, I don’t mind. I just thought you might be uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.” Xu Chaomu propped her chin on her hand. “People have shipped me with plenty of people.”

Fair enough, Ji Changyin thought.

The comment feed was always full of arguments. Trainees and their fans fought with one another; guests and their fans did the same. The subjects varied, but people could find something to argue about in anything.

And whenever Ji Changyin appeared on screen, the insults came right along with her.

“Want me to turn off the comments?”

“I’m fine.” Ji Changyin waved a hand and picked up an orange from the table. “They can say whatever they want. It doesn’t affect me. They’re watching on their phones and computers, while I’m sitting in my home theater, watching from a massage chair. Why should I care what they think?”

“You really do have a good attitude.”

Ji Changyin smiled but didn’t say anything more.

“I just noticed—you really have been looking at me a lot,” Xu Chaomu said.

“…”

“Why do you keep looking at me?”

“Because I keep thinking you’re about to leap up and hit someone, and I need to stop you,” Ji Changyin said. “Take a look at your own face. You look furious.”

Xu Chaomu looked a little helpless. “I’m just being a bit serious.”

“Exactly. You look like you’re about to hit someone.”

Xu Chaomu pressed her lips together.

“They’ve got their first performance in a few days. Try smiling a little then. Sitting next to you is stressful.”

“Got it.” Xu Chaomu remained expressionless.

Ji Changyin’s mouth curled up slightly as she glanced at the screen. “Look, someone in the comments says you’re scary too. It’s not just me.”

“I heard you. You don’t need to keep saying it. I’ll try to remember next time.” Xu Chaomu had never been on a show where she was expected to judge people before. So far, no one had discovered that she had the soul of a strict vice principal.

When the episode ended, people were still discussing it.

[Unbelievable. Xu Chaomu didn’t smile even once from beginning to end.]

[Compared to Ji Changyin sitting next to her, who sometimes smiled like an idiot.]

“But Ji Changyin looks even scarier when she scowls. And did anyone else notice Xu Chaomu was the one who gave her the cue? It feels like there was a whole part cut out.”

[Does Xu Chaomu seriously have such high standards? She really shouldn’t have come on a show like this.]

[Xu Chaomu must’ve come on this show to make money. What a downgrade.]

…

Ji Changyin turned off the comments.

“Why’d you turn them off?”

“The show’s over. Why leave them on? Let’s go to bed.”

“I’m not sleepy.” Xu Chaomu rubbed her neck. “You go ahead. I want to watch a little more.”

“Fine.” Ji Changyin nodded. “Just don’t stay up all night. There wouldn’t have been much point in having you stay over otherwise.”

“I promise I’ll be in bed by one.”

“Good.” On her way out, Ji Changyin passed Xu Chaomu and couldn’t resist reaching out to ruffle her hair again.

Xu Chaomu turned to look at her, puzzled.

“I couldn’t help myself.”

Xu Chaomu looked away. “Don’t go around touching people’s hair. You might pull off someone’s extensions.”

“Okay. I’ll only touch yours, then.”

“…”

Ji Changyin darted away before Xu Chaomu could react, feeling inexplicably pleased with herself. Xu Chaomu wasn’t actually all that scary, but touching her hair somehow felt like plucking a tiger’s whiskers.

The next day, Xu Chaomu stayed at Ji Changyin’s again. Whenever she wanted to leave, some excuse or other kept getting in the way, and in the end she always stayed the night.

Then Xu Chaomu realized she’d gained two pounds. On the third night, she refused to eat dinner and ran off.

The two of them didn’t see each other again until they went to Dream Chaser for filming.

This time, they were only there to watch a performance. They didn’t have much to do, and as guests, they couldn’t hog the spotlight.

Before the show, Xu Chaomu and Ji Changyin were scheduled to do a few short interviews with the trainees.

“Are we picking people at random?”

“No, there’s a list.” Xu Chaomu looked at her in disbelief. “Did you not look at the schedule before coming?”

“I glanced at it. You’re here, so what’s there to worry about?”

“…”

When Xu Chaomu’s expression began to darken, Ji Changyin immediately squeezed her shoulder. “I’m kidding. I read it. I was just teasing you.”

The first trainee they interviewed was Qiao Tingxi.

Qiao Tingxi had held the top spot ever since voting began.

Ji Changyin sat on a tall stool, idly spinning herself around.

“Can you sit still for two seconds?”

“I’m bored.” Ji Changyin reached over and gave Xu Chaomu’s chair a spin.

Xu Chaomu turned around twice before giving Ji Changyin a helpless look.

After waiting another two minutes, Xu Chaomu started spinning too. When they heard a knock at the door, they both spun around, straightened up, and sat properly.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, teachers.” Qiao Tingxi came in and bowed.

Ji Changyin nodded. “We’re just having a chat. Sit down; don’t be nervous. Teacher Xu and I are both gentle, kind, and approachable.”

Xu Chaomu nodded along.

Qiao Tingxi glanced at Xu Chaomu, then quietly looked away.

Ji Changyin couldn’t help laughing.

“Ahem. Is there anything you’d like to say about the competition?” she asked.

Most of the questions were standard fare, nothing particularly interesting. Qiao Tingxi’s answers were just as by-the-book, without a single juicy detail.

“Between us, shows like ours usually have the trainees team up with the guest mentors for a performance toward the end. Which mentor are you most excited to work with?” Ji Changyin asked.

Qiao Tingxi hesitated.

“There are six of us. I mean, you don’t have to count Xu Chaomu or me—but for this question, you can. Who would you most like to work with?”

Xu Chaomu gave Ji Changyin a helpless look.

“I’d like to work with all of you.”

“You don’t have to pick one of us. There’ll be other stars coming in to help, too,” Ji Changyin continued. “Give me an honest answer. I might see if I can actually invite them.”

Xu Chaomu glanced at her again. “And what if you can’t?”

“I said I’d see what I could do. I didn’t promise anything.”

“Actually, I’d really like to work with Teacher Xu…” Qiao Tingxi looked at Xu Chaomu. “I’ve always been a huge fan of hers.”

“Oh. So you didn’t say that earlier because you were worried I’d get upset?” Ji Changyin sighed dramatically.