[Boss, the votes for contestant #37 are abnormal. I have reason to suspect he’s rigging the votes. If this continues, Ningning is going to be overtaken. Think of a solution quickly.]
Rong Xianning had just skyrocketed to fame, and her fanbase was still unstable. During this phase, capable fans with strong cohesion and influence would gradually rise to become leading figures in the fan community.
At first, Zhang Xiaoyu had attracted a group of small fans in the first couple of days with her photo edits, captions, and activity—commonly referred to as "leg hairs"—creating her own style and carving out a certain level of influence within the fan circle.
Later, she disappeared for a while, leaving her followers at a loss. Now, as soon as she came online as indicated by the backstage system, the ID named "Green Grass By The Riverside" was quick to send her a private message.
Shen You’an clicked on the link sent over by the other party and saw a tweet posted by someone with the ID "Xianxian Has To Be Happy Today."
Contestant #37 Wen Yan’s voting spike was abnormally high, raising suspicions of vote rigging. On one hand, they were @-ing the program team to investigate, while on the other, rallying their own fans to mobilize all accounts in their network to vote.
[#37 is so shameless. Is this what you do when you can’t compete in popularity—you start playing dirty? The program team isn’t even managing this. Isn’t it obvious this is rigged?]
Shen You’an carefully examined the post, squinted her eyes, and her fingers quickly typed into the input box.
[Destruction comes only after madness.]
The person on the other end seemed to be a kid and didn’t understand what Shen You’an meant, responding with a string of question marks.
At that moment, Gao Yuyue took the microphone and began singing "Grandma’s Penghu Bay." Her voice was decent, brimming with genuine emotion, bringing a unique flavor to the song.
Suddenly, Gao Yuyue walked over to Shen You’an, extending the microphone to her.
She signaled with her eyes for Shen You’an to take over.
Shen You’an, holding her phone, looked up and froze.
The atmosphere grew slightly tense.
Just then, an elegant singing voice filled the room, and everyone turned their heads toward the source of the voice.
It turned out to be Qin Xiangge holding another microphone—the voice belonged to her.
Gao Yuyue gritted her teeth. Could she not resist stealing the spotlight?
When Qin Xiangge finished, she smiled a little sheepishly, "Yu’e, I sang your song. I hope you don’t mind."
Wow, could she be any more fake.
Gao Yuyue smiled sweetly, "At least you’re aware of it."
She didn’t give her any semblance of grace.
"I noticed Shen wasn’t singing and wondered if she’s tone-deaf, so I decided to step in. Yu’e, don’t be mad. Just let me know what you want to sing next, and I’ll help you pick."
Was that a jab at Shen being tone-deaf? Gao Yuyue was livid but laughed anyway.
Qin Xiangge glanced toward Gao Yuyue and suddenly said, "Yu’e, I remember we used to take vocal classes together when we were kids. The teacher said you had quite a bit of talent."
Gao Yuyue gritted her teeth. She really knew how to touch a nerve.
Their parents had encouraged them in the arts since they were young, so the two had frequently bumped into each other in various classes—sometimes piano, sometimes dance, sometimes vocal training...
Gao Yuyue particularly despised Qin Xiangge because of the shadow she cast over her childhood.
Qin Xiangge was the proverbial "other people’s child" frequently praised by parents—notably gifted in the arts, especially in piano and vocal performance.
On the other hand, Gao Yuyue had little interest in the arts, often zoning out in class, leaving teachers consistently disappointed in her.
She had finally discovered some talent in vocals, but unfortunately had to abandon it due to incomplete vocal cord development.
While she could occasionally sing for fun, pursuing professional vocal training was out of the question.
Qin Xiangge’s fingers moved to the large screen, inputting something into the search box.
Without looking up, she said, "Yu’e, do you still remember this song, ’The Diva Dance’? We used to practice it secretly, even getting scolded by the teacher."
The prelude began to play.
Gao Yuyue sneered, "If you want to sing it, go ahead."
Qin Xiangge must really be desperate for attention.
This song, "The Diva Dance," was renowned as one of the most difficult pieces in global music—a single line could span four to eight octaves, with rapid key changes throughout the range. It demanded incredible skill and was purely a showpiece.
Gao Yuyue wouldn’t be crazy enough to set herself up for failure.
Qin Xiangge turned her gaze towards the quietly seated Shen You’an, flashing a friendly smile, "Shen, do you want to join me?"
Gao Yuyue nearly wanted to rip that smile off her face. She was clearly targeting Shen You’an, confident that Shen couldn’t sing and using that as leverage.
With a proud and self-satisfied smirk, Qin Xiangge brought the microphone to her lips, ready to sing the first line.
A youthful, ethereal voice rang out, seamlessly blending with the accompaniment.
In that moment, everyone in the private room instinctively lifted their heads, eyes fixed on her.