Chapter 14: 014

During the time Xi Tongyue was recuperating from her injury, Song Guiya went on recording the show as usual. But she stuck firmly to her principle of working from nine to six with no overtime, finishing her training within the scheduled shooting hours and clocking out right on the dot when the workday ended.

As per tradition, the program crew edited the daily training footage from Dance Unlimited and released it across various online platforms.

This included the iconic clip from the first day back on set, where Song Guiya and Li Xingruo locked eyes and sparked instant chemistry.

The program crew held back their aces and didn’t include Song Guiya’s jaw-dropping dance from the practice room. As a result, aside from those in the know inside the crew, no one had a clue how Song Guiya had managed to stick around.

Li Xingruo’s fans, never hearing any official word from the program crew on dealing with Song Guiya, grew increasingly furious.

On top of that, her habit of “leaving early” in the videos pushed the 【Song Crow】 hashtag right back up the hot search charts.

They trashed her online all they wanted, but it didn’t stop tickets for the grand finals of this under-the-radar show from selling out in just ten seconds.

On the day of the grand finals, the six-thousand-seat venue was packed to the rafters.

Meanwhile, the online live stream kicked off in sync, and even in the opening moments, it had already drawn a hundred thousand viewers—proof of just how much buzz it had generated.

Up on stage, the host was hyping the judging panel with infectious energy.

Two legendary dance instructors and two rising entertainment stars who’d started out as dancers—familiar faces from earlier rounds, nothing out of the ordinary.

But when the host got to the mystery guest, Xi Tongyue, the rowdy arena went dead silent for three seconds before exploding into a frenzy of cheers and screams.

“Holy crap, for real? It’s Xi Tongyue!”

“I was already regretting shelling out for these tickets, but this surprise? Totally worth every penny!”

“Nah, we came out way ahead!”

Sweeping orchestral music swelled, and Xi Tongyue emerged gracefully from behind the glittering stage backdrop. Every spotlight bathed her in light: a sleek, austere little suit over a pale long skirt, paired with elegant, sexy kitten heels. The look screamed understated luxury—like a proper British duchess.

No wonder she was the pinnacle of young actresses.

Her aura was overwhelming.

Down in the wings, the dancers waiting their turn saw her and felt their pre-performance nerves melt away, replaced by pure admiration and reverence.

She made her way from the stage to the center judges’ seat, passing through the performers’ area and the audience amid the deafening screams. Xi Tongyue’s gaze swept lightly over the crowd below, her lips curving into the faintest smile.

That smile lit up the room and turned heads everywhere.

“Aaaah! Xi Tongyue smiled at me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous—she was looking right at me. Must’ve cracked up at my outfit today!”

“Yeah, right. With that weird antenna tuft on your head, even the Teletubbies are cuter.”

“I don’t care—Mommy made it big! The goddess noticed me!”

Whoever Xi Tongyue had actually glanced at didn’t matter. Everyone in A Zone swore it was them, and the electric excitement swept through the entire venue.

In the midst of the chaos, all Song Guiya could hear was the pounding of her own heart.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling countless delicate strings plucking wildly at her heartstrings.

When she looked back up, Xi Tongyue was already settled in the prime spot at the judges’ table, the other panelists greeting her warmly.

Song Guiya had always known Xi Tongyue was a top-tier figure in the entertainment industry, but the title of Movie Queen had never really clicked for her until now.

In the roar of the crowd, it hit her viscerally.

Before Xi Tongyue showed up, the audience had been split—fans of Li Xingruo, friends and family of the other performers. But in this instant, they were all her die-hard supporters, screaming and cheering for her without a single holdout.

Wherever she went, Xi Tongyue was that matchless beauty no landscape could rival.

It wasn’t the fearful reverence subjects owed an emperor. It was something fiercer, purer: sheer adoration.

Snapping out of it, Song Guiya pressed harder against her chest, as if she could squash the unfamiliar feelings budding deep inside.

The opening wrapped up, and the host bounded back onstage.

“You guys are on fire! And with that, I declare the grand finals of Dance Unlimited officially underway!”

“Please welcome our first group of contestants to the stage.”

The lineup had been set by lottery the day before, and Song Guiya’s group drew tenth—dead last, the grand finale.

Everyone but Song Guiya and Li Xingruo felt the weight of it like a mountain on their shoulders.

Judges’ scores and audience votes came right after each act, sure. But who could say the late slots wouldn’t suffer from tired eyes or worn-out attention spans?

At a time like this, no one could fathom what was going through the director’s mind, but he had gone ahead and set up several cameras anyway. They captured the expressions and reactions of the actors waiting in the wings, filming them live as the other groups took the stage.

This only ratcheted up the tension among the performers. Terrified of coming across as weak, they strained to keep perfect control over their faces. Even Li Xingruo found herself sitting bolt upright without realizing it.

Song Guiya was the sole exception.

She cradled a milky-white thermos cup, sipping from it as she watched the onstage performance with evident enjoyment—as relaxed as if she weren’t there to compete at all.

Perhaps it was Song Guiya’s unflappable aura rubbing off on her, but before long, Li Xingruo felt herself unwind. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the thermos cup nearby, a few plump, vibrant goji berries bobbing invitingly on the surface.

They were the same age, yet Song Guiya carried on with the health regimen of a retired old-timer.

Catching Li Xingruo’s glance, Song Guiya turned to her.

“Your thermos cup has such a unique lid,” said Li Xingruo. “Where’d you get it?”

Song Guiya brought the cup to every training session. Its milky-white metal shell was adorably shaped, but the lid was a wooden cork, much like one from a bottle of wine. You didn’t twist it off—you simply pulled it out to drink.

Li Xingruo had been curious about it for ages, but their awkward relationship had kept her from asking until now.

Song Guiya glanced at the cork-style thermos cup in her hand. “Saw it at a street stall near Tianqiao.”

Ever since arriving in this world, she’d been surrounded by high-tech gadgets everywhere she turned. Plenty of things were far more convenient than in her previous life, but not everything.

Take training sessions, for instance: everyone swigged from mineral water bottles with twist-off caps.

Song Guiya, though, preferred a water skin—yank out the cork and drink. And those plastic bottles? Single-use trash. She hated the waste.

Then one day, at a little roadside stall, she’d spotted this thermos: metal shell fitted with a faux-antique wooden cork. Love at first sight.

Pull to drink, with genuine insulation to boot—a real treasure.

Li Xingruo was fascinated. “Can I give it a try? I’ve never seen a thermos like this.”

Song Guiya passed it over. “Go ahead.”

Li Xingruo took hold of it, mimicking Song Guiya’s grip: one hand on the body, the other on the lid. She yanked.

Nothing.

“Why won’t it budge?”

“Put some muscle into it.”

Li Xingruo summoned every ounce of strength she had. The lines of her forearm muscles stood out in sharp relief—still, no give.

“This takes way too much effort. Is it jammed in there too tight?”

Song Guiya retrieved the cup and tugged gently.

With a crisp pop, the lid came free.

Li Xingruo: ?

That much strength?