Chapter 77

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This chapter is edited by Bakhtawar Kakar. Thank you for your contribution!

Chapter 77: The Epic Battle of “Six Warriors”

Many years later, Chu Yuanqing would look back on her past victories with a sense of awe.

Just a month ago, standing confidently on the Carry Center stage, dancing flawlessly, she had felt invincible. It was as though she could dissolve her sense of self entirely, pouring her soul into each heavy and demanding dance routine.

But like a twist of fate, the transformation of her magical-girl life began to strip away the old shadows lingering in her soul. Her personality underwent a subtle but profound change, akin to a tender sprout breaking through the soil, reborn with newfound vitality and fresh perspectives.

Wait, is that even possible?

Have I become strange?

Chu Yuanqing woke from her daze, abruptly halting the animal-like whimpers rising within her. The more she reflected on her reaction, the more unnatural it seemed. She slapped her cheeks hard with both hands, her face flushed with shame, resembling a fool caught in self-reproach.

Darn it! What’s happening to me? Who granted me this blessing?!

As these thoughts swirled in her mind, a creeping despair swept over her. She felt like a middle-aged office worker on the verge of burnout, overwhelmed by shame and hopelessness. Her once-bright eyes dulled, and she sat motionless as the dancers on the virtual screen continued their performance. The lively music played on repeat, but Chu Yuanqing remained unresponsive, like a delicate, broken doll.

At the same time, the audience in the live stream room grew more excited.

Offstage, Dream Weaver Rabbit seemed to lose interest in observing the lackluster reactions of the defeated contestants. Smiling as if satisfied, it spread its arms and announced:

“The thrilling player voting segment has concluded.”

“First, second, and third place will receive traffic boosts of 5 million, 2 million, and 1 million views, respectively.”

“Now, all participants, please select and submit a dance routine before midnight tonight.”

With that, the mascot smiled, bowed gracefully, and vanished into a shower of sparkling dust, leaving the 168 contestants exchanging awkward glances.

Because…

On the big screen, the voting results for all 168 contestants were still displayed. Chu Yuanqing and Chen Yining had garnered noticeable votes, but others, like Tang Liuli, trailed behind significantly.

Fourth place went to Ji Shuzhu with 14 votes—just two votes shy of the third-place contestant.

Kirimi Miyuki ranked fifth with six votes, including the two cast by herself and Chu Yuanqing.

In sixth place, at the very bottom, was the so-called “Great Devil,” who had received a mere three votes, excluding the one she cast for herself. The result was shockingly low.

This revealed an uncomfortable truth: despite any backstage secrets, contestants like Xie Qingxuan—whose secondary stage performance wasn’t particularly outstanding—remained formidable opponents in the minds of many. Her exaggerated opposition made sense.

And what about Chu Yuanqing?

Some were enchanted by the stage atmosphere. Others, like Chen Yining, speculated that Chu Yuanqing’s performance was a one-time fluke. They doubted her dance skills and deliberately voted for her, hoping the Carry Center would crumble under pressure.

In simpler terms, Chu Yuanqing’s rise was too meteoric—like a comet defying gravity. To many, she lacked the depth and credibility to sustain her success, which explained the current outcome.

“Is this a game of human nature?” Chu Wang Shu muttered to herself. She wasn’t naive. The moment Kirimi Miyuki failed to make the top three, she understood the situation.

For everyone except Grade A contestants, this vote had little impact on their core interests. A total of 145 votes were cast, with 23 contestants choosing to abstain—an alarming statistic.

To put it bluntly, for Grades F and D contestants, this was likely their only chance to influence the fate of the Grade A contestants. By exploiting the voting system, they could drag Xie Qingxuan, once untouchable, down from her pedestal and taint the hard-earned reputation of Little Sakura, whose unwavering dedication to the stage was admired by many.

For some, these acts of sabotage offered a fleeting satisfaction, indulging the darker side of human nature.

But here’s the catch:

Dream Weaver Rabbit’s transparent voting interface exposed everything. A single screenshot from the live broadcast room revealed the names of the voters. Zooming in on the screen made their identities clear to anyone who cared to look.

This deliberate exposure shifted the atmosphere.

Some actions can only be done but not spoken of. Some can only be spoken of but not done. And some can be both done and spoken of—but never brought into the light.

Yet now, Dream Weaver Rabbit had lured the contestants into revealing their darker sides, orchestrating the downfall of two favorites, only to unveil the entire process for the world to see. It was cunning and ruthless.

The live broadcast room erupted in chaos.

Xie Qingxuan and Kirimi Miyuki’s fans abandoned their arguments with Chen Yining and Tang Liuli’s supporters. Instead, they played the role of amateur detectives, zooming in on screenshots of the voting interface, determined to expose the malicious voters.

It’s easy to imagine that there will be plenty of drama on the internet later.

Despite the external pressure, the players in the underground base couldn’t confront each other directly. After their dance practice, most of them quickly dispersed, hurrying to their practice rooms to rehearse on their own, hoping to record a high-quality video before midnight.

Meanwhile, mothers from all walks of life were getting restless, strategizing their next moves.

Chu Wang Shu, known for her habit of surprising others with hugs and playful touches, took the lead and made the first move.

Tang Liuli followed closely behind, exuding a fierce confidence, like a small but brave cat emboldened by the support of others.

The two rushed toward Chu Yuanqing like a flash of lightning.

“Qing Qing! What dance did you get?”

“Oh? I got the Bambi Dance! It’s quite cute, isn’t it? I really want to see you dance it!”

Chu Wang Shu looked eagerly at the screen in front of Chu Yuanqing, imagining her performing the dance. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Tang Liuli quietly moved closer, seizing the opportunity to chime in:

“This dance is pretty simple. If you practice for just one minute, you’ll pick it up quickly. Let Little Shu and me help you learn it, okay?”

Chu Yuanqing slowly snapped back to reality, looking at her adorable daughter and her familiar roommate. Her long eyelashes fluttered, and she felt a mix of embarrassment and pride as a father. Her facial expression softened.

Is my daughter making friends with Little Liuli?

This seemed like a good thing from a social perspective. Apart from Liuli’s charming personality, being taught by the talented child star Tang Liuli would surely benefit her daughter in the future. Moreover, shy individuals like Little Liuli truly needed more friends to help them overcome their inner gloom. In this regard, Little Shu, with her cheerful and sincere demeanor, was an excellent choice of companion.

Well, this is definitely not my daughter’s influence at work here!

Chu Yuanqing was jolted by Tang Liuli’s suggestion.

What kind of joke is this? Letting Little Shu teach me this dance? How am I even still alive?

She immediately displayed a firm refusal, her expression resolute.

“No need. Time is running out, and you two still have your own dance lessons to focus on. This dance is simple enough. I’ve heard there’s an AI mentor in the A-level practice room—I can handle it myself.”

At the same time, Tang Liuli didn’t respond immediately. She empathized deeply with Chu Yuanqing’s emotions, savoring the care and comfort directed at her and Chu Wang Shu. A tingling sensation spread through her scalp, her chest filled with joy, and her legs felt weak.

She quickly tousled the hair over her forehead, attempting to conceal the tears threatening to fall. Her emerald-green eyes misted with emotion as she struggled to control her slightly uneven breathing. Silently, she placed her hand on Chu Wang Shu’s shoulder and stood awkwardly in place, trying to appear composed. Her expression wavered, with a faint, twisted smile on her lips.

Ah, Honey Qing is amazing.

Haha, Honey Qing is indeed the best.

Please, care a little more… Fill me, stuff me…

“Oh? Liuli, are you feeling unwell?”

Chu Wang Shu felt the gentle pressure of Tang Liuli’s hand on her shoulder. The force, though restrained, carried an unusual tension, prompting Chu Wang Shu to glance at her new friend and childhood idol with concern.

Tang Liuli steadied her breathing, closing her eyes briefly before opening them again. Masking her discomfort with near-perfect acting, she offered an apologetic smile. She appeared poised, even slightly elegant, as she blinked and replied naturally:

“Well, I might’ve overdone my training recently and forgot to stretch properly. My legs are a bit sore. Little Shu, would you mind giving me a little support?”

Chu Wang Shu hesitated, sensing that something wasn’t quite right but unable to pinpoint what it was. In the end, she simply responded:

“It’s alright, but make sure you stretch properly next time.”

Tang Liuli smiled in response. When the other person turned back to chat with Chu Yuanqing, she let herself immerse in the lingering feeling of maternal love. Her legs trembled with excitement, and her other hand, hanging at her side, couldn’t help but lightly touch the fabric of her skirt, reaching the skin of her thigh for some “assistance.”

For the first time, Tang Liuli felt grateful for her ability. Just standing beside this “mother and daughter” duo allowed her to effortlessly absorb the warmth of their pure love, as if she were walking on clouds and drowning in a honey-like sea of affection.

Here, there was no loneliness, no solitude.

There were no selfish motives, no violent father looming at home.

There was no harshness or bitterness, no one molding her from a young age into their ideal vision, only to eventually take their own life in front of her as if staging some grotesque artistic performance—like her sick mother.

This place was wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that she wanted to stay forever, indulging in this gentle, comforting sea.

But the illusion didn’t last. The shared feelings began to blur, and she reluctantly withdrew from the warmth that had momentarily consumed her. A sigh escaped her lips—a mix of satisfaction and emptiness.

Bliss ❤️❤️❤️.

As Tang Liuli regained her composure, she looked at Chu Yuanqing’s exquisite, delicate face—a face so lovely it made one want to caress it. A strong conviction grew in her heart. She realized that maintaining a good relationship with Chu Wang Shu was undoubtedly a wise choice.

The more Tang Liuli thought about it, the prouder she felt. Admiring her own foresight, she swelled with pride, almost like a pufferfish.

Haha, I’ve already won so much today. Win, win, win!

But before she could indulge in her usual habit of mentally critiquing a few people, a cold and firm voice interrupted her thoughts:

“The AI Mentor in the A-level practice room won’t help you learn dance on your own.

Since this is one of the trainees’ basic skills, Dazzling Stage won’t let anyone neglect their core competencies.”

“Little Qing, I’ll teach you,” the voice continued.

Xie Qingxuan’s distinctive features made her stand out—a captivating blend of Western and Eastern beauty. Her platinum hair swayed lightly, catching the light in an ethereal, almost fairy-like manner. Despite her usual air of detachment, her presence here filled the space, demanding everyone’s attention.

Chu Yuanqing blinked in surprise.

Xie Qingxuan’s rare display of warmth and initiative was starkly different from her typical aloof demeanor. That she would voluntarily offer help was unexpected.

Chu Yuanqing opened her mouth to politely decline, prepared to use the same reasoning as before.

But Xie Qingxuan anticipated her hesitation and cut in with a gentle tone:

“I’ve already learned the dance I picked earlier, so I haven’t wasted any time.”

Chu Yuanqing hesitated. She wasn’t good at rejecting kindness outright. After some thought, she reasoned that accepting Xie Qingxuan’s help might be better than letting Little Shu teach her. Besides, with Xie Qingxuan’s skills, it might not even take much time.

Before she could respond, however, another voice chimed in.

“Is that so? What a coincidence! The dance I picked happens to be a popular one from an island country, and I’ve already mastered it.”

Kirimi Miyuki, whose face often radiated innocence with her naturally melancholic, drooping eyes, now wore a mischievous smile. Her words carried a playful edge, subtly cooling the atmosphere.

Tang Liuli, like a cat with its fur ruffled, bristled with the urge to mutter something critical about Little Sakura. But before she could act, Kirimi Miyuki’s playful glance pierced through her defenses.

Little Sakura’s eyes seemed cloaked in darkness, her gaze laden with a weighty intensity that far exceeded their last encounter in the practice room. The oppressive air immediately shattered Tang Liuli’s false bravado.

Tang Liuli swallowed nervously, deflating almost instantly. She told herself she had already “won” plenty for the day and chose to retreat, hiding behind Chu Wang Shu like a defeated kitten. A dark cloud seemed to form above her head as she spiraled into a state of social withdrawal.

Chu Wang Shu, however, remained oblivious to the tension. Although she wanted to get closer to Qing Qing, she felt that Great Devil and Little Sakura were better suited to teach her. Their skills and experience would benefit Chu Yuanqing more directly.

While she initially felt some reluctance, after seeking comfort in Qing Qing’s warmth a few times, she felt strangely at peace, her earlier anxiety melting away. For the first time, she felt genuinely happy for Chu Yuanqing.

The situation quickly escalated into a confrontation between Great Devil and Little Sakura.

Xie Qingxuan had no intention of backing down—not when the confusion in her heart was starting to take root. She believed that even subconscious interactions between her and Chu Yuanqing played a crucial role in constructing personality fragments and piecing together the complete “Dream Puzzle.” Spending time together, even in these minor moments, was vital.

Lifting her eyes slightly, Xie Qingxuan spoke directly:

“Do you also want to teach her?”

Kirimi Miyuki responded with a kind smile and a soft voice:

“Don’t you think it would be less stressful for Little Qing to be taught by someone she’s closer to?”

Xie Qingxuan pondered for a moment, then replied sincerely:

“I feel like Little Qing and I are close. We talk the most after practice. By society’s standards, we should already be considered good friends.”

“Plus, we’re roommates.”

The final remark carried a subtle, deeper implication.

This fact unsettled Kirimi Miyuki, as she and Chu Yuanqing didn’t share a practice room. Their time together each day was limited compared to Chu Yuanqing’s roommates. It was a disadvantage that Kirimi Miyuki couldn’t ignore.

But things had changed.

Kirimi Miyuki’s smile remained as she countered softly:

“Really? But I’ve heard you don’t talk much in the dormitory. You often stay out late at night, practicing in the studio. Sometimes, gentle people blur boundaries, don’t they?”

“In the end, Little Qing gave me her vote.”

This final line felt like a dagger. Chu Yuanqing’s vote wasn’t just a measure of their closeness—it also symbolized her trust in Kirimi Miyuki’s stage skills. If Xie Qingxuan failed here, it would be an all-encompassing loss.

Great Devil vs. Little Sakura.

In the first round of the competition, Little Sakura scored a decisive victory.

At that moment, a cold presence entered the fray. Ji Shuzhu, sharp-eyed and calm, surveyed the beautiful faces around her. Her commanding tone cut through the tension:

“Chu Yuanqing’s dance skills are weak. It may be easy for you to submit a video before midnight, but for her, every hour is critical.”

Silence fell.

Miss Choreographer glanced at the virtual screen. Countless dance moves flashed through her mind like puzzle pieces snapping into place.

She lifted her eyes and spoke indifferently:

“Are you done stumbling like a little deer? I’ve already finished.”

“For Chu Yuanqing’s future, please make way for her.”