Chapter 109 Part 1
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This chapter is edited by Bakhtawar Kakar. Thank you for your contribution!
Chapter 109 Part 1: The Fall of Chu Yuanqing (1)
It was a sunny day.
In the afternoon, Zhelong Town felt like a steaming oven.
The banyan trees lining the streets swayed in the breeze, their scattered shade mingling with the chirping of cicadas.
Having just stepped out of the underground base, Chu Yuanqing was immediately overwhelmed by the heat radiating from the scorching asphalt road.
Chen Xiaoxiao seemed prepared. She smoothly opened an umbrella to shield the girl beside her, then kindly handed over a mask and sunglasses from her bag.
“You’re a public figure now,” Chen Xiaoxiao reminded her. “It’s great that the production team arranged everything this time, but in the future, you need to be prepared when you go out.”
Her words carried weight, especially after the large crowd of fans who had gathered by the roadside at the last performance.
Chu Yuanqing looked serious as she nodded in agreement. Obediently, she put on the mask and sunglasses, tightly covering her small, delicate face. Glancing at the blazing sun high in the sky and the blue sky dimmed by the lenses, she asked, “Did they leave through other exits? Why haven’t we seen anyone?”
After applying sunscreen, Xie Qingxuan had left with another staff member, and Ji Shuzhu had done the same.
Chen Xiaoxiao explained, “The underground base is huge. You’ve been living there long enough to notice how maze-like and complex it is, with dense corridors and seemingly bottomless architectural designs.”
“For safety reasons, there are multiple exits to the surface. Not just in Zhelong Town, but throughout the entire film and television base. There are even exits leading outside the area. Your teammates probably left through one of those.”
After finishing her explanation, Chen Xiaoxiao couldn’t help but complain:
“To be honest, even if they wanted to create some kind of prison break or survival game atmosphere, this design is completely impractical. It feels oppressive, time-consuming, labor-intensive, and ridiculously expensive. I have no idea what the producers of Dazzling Stage were thinking.”
It seemed the cameras hadn’t started rolling yet, and Chen Xiaoxiao, as an assistant and a fan of a small idol, seized the chance to vent about her work. Her dissatisfaction with the company was evident in her tone.
It made sense, though. While the pay was good, working in the stifling underground base every day could be draining for a young, lively girl who had only recently graduated.
Chu Yuanqing was taken aback by her words and asked, “You also find the underground base of Dazzling Stage strange?”
Chen Xiaoxiao replied casually, “Of course. Didn’t you check the internet after your performance? Tons of people are criticizing the Dazzling Stage venue online. There’s even a conspiracy theory post on Zhihu with hundreds of thousands of likes.”
“The post’s author listed a bunch of confusing expenses, claiming that Dazzling Stage will never break even, and started coming up with all sorts of weird theories.”
Chu Yuanqing fell silent.
In truth, she had shared similar doubts from the beginning.
If every Dazzling Stage project worldwide had a training base of this scale, along with extensive promotional efforts, how much money would need to be invested? Even hundreds of billions would barely scratch the surface.
Sponsorships, advertisements, viewership ratings, merchandise sales, and cutting-edge technology promotions could only generate so much revenue. How much of it could realistically be recouped?
The ultimate purpose of such an enormous investment seemed baffling.
Even if the program succeeded in creating a groundbreaking idol group that shattered historical records—or even a dozen nationally influential girl groups touring globally with sold-out performances—those profits would still fall short of funding ten training bases of this magnitude.
So, it wasn’t surprising that netizens indulged in conspiracy theories, and even the contestants had speculated about the issue.
Chu Yuanqing also found it strange.
But she didn’t dwell on it, because worrying wouldn’t change anything.
The value of her body and soul had already been exhausted in the previous timeline, leaving only a handful of ashes, destined to quietly scatter in the wind sooner or later.
If her daughter hadn’t participated in this program, she might never have given it a second thought. Even now, she rationalized Dazzling Stage as a project driven by the pursuit of entertainment at any cost.
But deep down, whether out of instinctive resistance or certain suspicions, the questions lingered.
Chu Yuanqing ultimately dismissed the idea of her sweet daughter going to the Heart Flow training room.
At that moment, Chen Xiaoxiao’s words flowed in quick succession:
“But in my opinion, the executives of Dazzling Stage must fear doomsday. Otherwise, why build so many underground bases? It’s much cheaper to build above ground than underground.”
Doomsday?
Chu Yuanqing’s expression softened. Gazing at the distant scenery, she drifted into a daze, envisioning a devastated world—a desolate landscape.
She had witnessed a real doomsday.
The figure later known as the Youmir, materialized as the Calamity God. Newly born, it immediately embraced death in a ritualistic fashion, piercing the continent and creating the first conceptual restricted zone:
The World Tree.
This lush, green tree—like a mythical ancient creation—grew from the continent’s backbone to the depths of the sea, expanding into a greater abyss. Its branches spread like living creatures, engulfing an entire country. It gathered countless corpses, tossing them into the crevices formed by its roots.
Within the World Tree, embryos of disaster beasts were nurtured. They underwent brief growth periods, hatched as giants, and climbed out from the abyss. Alongside unrelenting tsunamis, earthquakes, and terrifying abnormal weather, these beasts marked the beginning of the apocalypse.
This destruction was caused by the first Calamity God alone.
Chu Yuanqing had forgotten many past events, but through vivid flashbacks, she could comprehend the sheer horror of enduring such catastrophes from the safety of an underground base.
But it was okay.
The World Tree, seized by the Calamity God’s authority, had eroded into a pillar of salt that stretched toward the heavens. Alongside Odin, who was about to hatch from Youmir’s corpse, it burned in Levatin, collapsing into the material that restored the continent’s backbone.
From Calamity God #13 to #1, their conceptual authorities—combined with the blessings of many heroes—created extraordinary miracles that rewrote history and corrected the present.
Thus, the disasters of the old world and its apocalyptic scenes would never come to pass again.
Chu Yuanqing calmed her mind, pushing the haunting flashbacks aside. She listened to the summer cicadas, gazed at the clear sky, and reflected on 17 years of peace and prosperity. With a deep sigh of relief, she felt a quiet gratitude.
The light boat has passed through countless mountains.
The girl lowered her gaze, a content smile gracing her lips. The pendant on her chest glowed pure white, radiating in waves that seemed to amplify the tranquility around her.
Chen Xiaoxiao was mesmerized by this sudden outpouring of charm. Her thoughts swayed, her mind entranced. For a moment, the world felt vast and harmonious. Even the scorching heat and the noisy cicadas didn’t bother her anymore. She simply wanted to walk alongside her idol until the sun dipped below the horizon.
After a while, Chen Xiaoxiao regained her senses, unexpectedly moved—and a little proud.
Indeed, the person she had supported all this time, even with her face hidden behind sunglasses and a mask, remained effortlessly lovely and captivating.
But in the next instant, she realized a subtle dilemma. This undeniable charm made ordinary outings nearly impossible for her idol.
What can be done? Honey Qing’s charm is simply unstoppable.
Lost in her musings, Chen Xiaoxiao walked in silence for several minutes before bidding farewell to Chu Yuanqing, who boarded a luxurious, high-end RV.
The assistant felt a pang of reluctance as she sorrowfully turned back toward work. But after a few steps, a regretful thought struck her:
“Oh no! I forgot to remind Honey Qing to post on Weibo again!”
***
Trailers were a common sight among celebrities, blending seamlessly into the bustling film and television city. Chu Yuanqing’s trailer, however, was particularly spacious and well-designed, with nearly two meters of headroom that made it feel open and comfortable.
Inside, the cool breeze of air conditioning mixed with the faint scent of light perfume.
As soon as Chu Yuanqing stepped inside, her eyes landed on a stylish woman seated elegantly on a small couch. Judging by her appearance, she didn’t seem to be part of the Dazzling Stage team—she was likely from the brand side.
“Little Qing!”
Hearing the familiar voice, Chu Yuanqing turned to see someone seated in the corner—a face she immediately recognized.
The girl had a soft, innocent expression, with slightly drooping eyes that gave her a naturally melancholic air. Yet her infectious, warm smile dispelled any sense of fragility, leaving an impression of gentle radiance.
It was Kirimi Miyuki, someone she hadn’t seen in a long time.
Overcome with pleasant surprise, Chu Yuanqing sat beside her and whispered,
“Miyuki, what are you doing here?”
