Chapter 68

Little Blue didn’t make a sound.

She had no idea where to put her hands and feet. Her throat felt parched, and glancing at Chen Nian was awkward—not glancing was even more awkward.

Everyone had drawn numbers, but her sisters weren’t queued up with her, leaving her all alone right now.

Truth be told, even if she hadn’t been alone, she still would have been terrified of the girl behind the monitor. She looked about their age, so how could her tongue be so sharp… and so spot-on?

Everything Chen Nian had said was right on the money. They’d all agreed yesterday to wear last year’s styles—this year’s new ones weren’t something everyone could afford. And those who could afford them had no interest in blowing cash on phony “bestie match” outfits.

The best color had been decided long ago, reserved for Little Pink, who came from the wealthiest and most influential family among them.

They hadn’t known one another for long. They’d just seen each other’s audition videos online and happened to be from the same district. So they’d formed a little sister squad, vowing to support each other through the competition, to stand united against any trouble without fear of being outnumbered.

But when Little Blue thought back to what had happened yesterday, the whole thing felt utterly unreliable.

She hadn’t wanted to mock anyone else’s outfit, but Little Pink had started snickering first, so she’d gone along with the group, grinning awkwardly.

Then they’d run into a real tough customer who turned the tables and roasted them mercilessly. Little Pink got so mad she kicked a pebble on the ground, ruining her leather flats in the process.

Later, Little Yellow had the bright idea to call security and have the pair thrown out. That finally calmed Little Pink down a bit.

The mood among them had turned painfully awkward. They’d planned to head to the photography studio together today, but in the end, it had all fallen apart.

Now Little Blue stood there by herself, wishing she could dig a hole in the ground and bury herself, pretending none of it had ever happened.

Who could have guessed that an utterly ordinary-looking girl like that was part of the production crew—and that she’d run right into her clutches so soon?

Chen Nian fixed her with a stare, grinning like the cat that got the cream. It sent shivers racing up and down Little Blue’s spine.

She pressed her lips together tightly, clasping her hands behind her back and gripping them hard. She didn’t dare speak or even twitch, terrified that a storm of fury was about to break over her head.

Chen Nian straightened up and stepped around the monitor.

Little Blue stumbled back two steps, finally managing to stammer, “D-don’t…”

Chen Nian halted, tilting her chin up at her. “Why are you backing away like that? Step forward.”

Little Blue: “I…”

Chen Nian: “The light won’t hit your face properly.”

Little Blue: “Huh?”

Chen Nian pointed at the big light nearby. “You’ll come out looking too dark.”

The word “dark” made Little Blue flinch again.

Chen Nian suddenly burst out laughing, her smile bright and dazzling, flashing a perfect row of white teeth. She looked as delighted as if she’d just caught the punchline of a hilarious comedy sketch.

“Hey, don’t be so tense,” she said. “Relax. Just be yourself.”

Her voice was surprisingly… gentle.

Nothing at all like the aggressive girl from yesterday.

Little Blue let out a breath and finally loosened up a little as Chen Nian turned away.

She stepped into the light, and Chen Nian took her place behind the camera. Then, out of nowhere: “But don’t relax too much.”

Little Blue snapped ramrod straight.

“Too much, too much,” Chen Nian said, her eyes glued to the camera without sparing her a glance. “Chest out, chin up—but keep it natural.”

There were still plenty of people waiting behind her. Little Blue took a deep breath, cleared her mind, and struck the pose she’d rehearsed a thousand times.

“Hey, that…” Chen Nian’s gaze shifted back to her. “That pose is way too… untrendy…”

Little Blue: “…”

Chen Nian: “No hands on hips—drop them. Angle your body just a touch. Smile…”

Little Blue followed her directions without thinking, as if her face and body no longer belonged to her.

Chen Nian: “Smile for real. No fake grins.”

Little Blue was on the verge of tears.

The photographer snapped a few shots, but no one was happy with them.

Chen Nian studied Little Blue quietly for a few seconds, then signaled for music. She walked right up to her and straightened her crooked bow tie.

“I won’t hold yesterday against you. Let’s keep it professional—do what needs doing. I hope from now on, you’ll act like the positive role model an idol should be.”

Her voice was soft, drowned out by the music so only Little Blue could hear.

They were standing close. Little Blue’s throat bobbed as she swallowed nervously. Chen Nian finished adjusting the bow tie and stepped back out of frame.

For the rest of the shoot, Chen Nian didn’t glance her way once.

She kept her eyes on the monitor and said little. It wasn’t a complicated session anyway, and a few minutes later, Little Blue had finished. She bolted from the photography studio.

Chen Nian straightened up and waved her hand.

Little Ma glanced at her from the side and asked, “Chen Nian, do you know her?”

“Not really,” Chen Nian replied.

“That’s what I thought. If you were familiar, she’d be way more relaxed,” Little Ma said.

Chen Nian laughed. “We’ve got a grudge.”

Little Ma burst out laughing. “You’re such a kidder.”

But she wasn’t joking. Chen Nian didn’t hold grudges against those people from yesterday—not in a serious way, at least.

Since they were all contestants, she’d run into every single one of them today. She was the type who kept things black-and-white: she’d settle scores when it was time, without pulling punches, but she wouldn’t blow minor stuff out of proportion either.

Little Blue was obviously timid; a little scare would do the trick, and Chen Nian hadn’t even meant to frighten her that badly.

As for the others behind her, Chen Nian had no intention of sabotaging their shoots entirely. She’d just make the process a tad more challenging—maybe throw in some passive-aggressive guidance on poses.

She’d still get their photos to pass muster and pick the best shot for selection. After all, these pictures were like business cards for the contestants throughout the competition—they’d show up on TV over and over.

That was Chen Nian’s professional ethic. She didn’t want to start making real enemies for Fang Zhi right out of the gate.

For the next few hours of shooting, Chen Nian stuck around the photography studio.

Little White and Little Yellow showed up one after another. Chen Nian gave each a playful smack followed by a sweet gesture, and they reacted to her like she was a ghost—no different from Little Blue.

As lunchtime approached, Chen Nian hunkered down in a corner of the break room, ready to dig into her boxed lunch with everyone else.

Her phone rang. Fang Zhi was on the line, and by the time Chen Nian picked up, she’d already reached the break room door.

Chen Nian shot to her feet, grinning like a goofball.

Fang Zhi peered inside. Everyone in the room turned to look at her too. They’d seen plenty of pretty girls that day, but Fang Zhi still made their eyes light up.

Little Ma spoke up. “Another contestant? Afternoon shoots start after three. Go ahead and eat first.”

Chen Nian smacked his arm. “She’s my friend.”

“Oh, your friend!” Little Ma scratched his head sheepishly. “She’s so gorgeous, I figured…”

“Of course she’s a contestant too,” Chen Nian added.

“…”

The room was full of key photographers and post-production staff—people crucial to the whole operation. Chen Nian bowed deeply and politely to everyone. “This is my friend Fang Zhizhu. I’ll ask you all to take good care of her from here on out.”

Everyone looked a bit surprised. Fang Zhi stepped inside and bowed to them as well. “Thank you all for your hard work.”

“Didn’t someone say they wanted a drink earlier?” Chen Nian sidled up to Fang Zhi. “Perfect timing—Zhizhi’s here. What do you all want? We’ll go grab them.”

They were floored by the attention and waved her off awkwardly, feeling a little embarrassed.

This big, bold girl had been inexplicably assigned by Director Li, yet she was shockingly professional. Everyone assumed she was some well-connected relative of his—clearly worldly and sharp.

She’d been chatting everyone up like old pals all morning, and now here she was, suddenly all formal, dragging this promising beauty contestant into deep bows before them. It was a bit jarring.

But it also felt great.

Backstage crew rarely got this kind of earnest treatment from onstage stars—usually, it took someone with Director Li’s clout. After busting their asses half the day, few contestants even said “thanks for your hard work,” let alone offered to buy them treats. Fang Zhizhu was the first.

It was the thought that counted—no way were they letting the girls foot the bill.

But Chen Nian was clever. Once the pleasantries were done, she switched back to her cheeky self, pointing around the room with a grin. “Brother Ma, you mentioned wanting a Sprite earlier. Brother Tan, beer for you, right? Brother Zhao, Brother Zheng—wanna try that new milk tea place? I’m telling you, their stuff’s decent, but it’s not as good as mine. Next time, I’ll have my mom send over the ingredients, and I’ll mix some up for you myself. You’ll love my handiwork…”

She had a real knack for shifting focus—and for warming people up.

Just like that, she nailed down everyone’s orders, dragged Fang Zhizhu out, zipped to the store, and hauled back two big bags—not just drinks, but snacks too.

Who wouldn’t love a coworker like that? Break time turned into a feast, moods lifted, and by the time Fang Zhizhu’s shoot rolled around that afternoon, nearly everyone bent over backward to help her out.

Fang Zhizhu’s session wrapped up lightning-fast. She was just that photogenic.

She switched poses in a flash, nailed every expression—lively and natural.

Little Ma whistled in admiration. “Chen Nian, no wonder she’s your friend. She’s done a ton of photoshoots, huh?”

Chen Nian beamed with pride. “That’s part of it, sure. But mostly, it’s Zhizhi’s killer looks and natural talent. Plus, she actually puts in the work.”

Little Ma flipped through the photos. “I’m putting this set on the desktop as a template,” he said. “If anyone still doesn’t know how to pose later, just teach them using this…”

After Fang Zhi finished her shoot, Director Li came into the room and handed Chen Nian a room key card. “Go back and get some rest,” he told her.

Chen Nian wasn’t all that exhausted, but Fang Zhi was gazing at her with pleading eyes. Unable to bear leaving her to return to the dorm alone, Chen Nian said her goodbyes to the others.

Not long after the two had left, it was Little Pink’s turn for her shoot.

Little Pink had already been tipped off by her friends, so she stormed into the photography studio with fire in her eyes, chest puffed out with pent-up fury. She was ready—if Chen Nian dared to say a single word against her, she’d throw a massive tantrum right there in the studio. Let’s see who mattered more: a contestant from Group A, or some lowly intern running errands.

But even after they’d snapped several shots, there was still no sign of Chen Nian.

Little Pink furrowed her brow. Little Ma, camera in hand, leaned out and called, “Contestant, come over here for a sec. Take a look at these photos. When we shoot, try to mix up the poses more. That way, we’ll have better options when picking the best ones…”

Little Pink scuffed her foot against the floor and walked over to the monitor.

There she was—the girl from yesterday.

Rage boiled up from Little Pink’s chest straight to her head. Her voice turned icy as she demanded, “Who the hell is this? Why do I have to look at her?”

“That’s Fang Zhizhu, your fellow contestant from the same batch,” Little Ma said, glancing at the notes on both of them. “You’re both in Group A—probably sharing a dorm, too. She’s great at stills, so you two should swap some tips.”

Little Pink balled her fists.