1 year and 7 months since Yining left home
The training room was colder than usual.
Not because the air conditioning was stronger, but because every heartbeat in the room was drumming with tension.
Yining tied her shoelaces in silence, ignoring the chatter around her. Across the room, Bai Zhiqi was laughing with a fellow trainee, her laughter high and honeyed like always. But her eyes — sly and precise — flicked toward Yining just long enough to send a message.
She's not done.
The whispers about Yining's hidden identity had faded slightly after Ace Luo's crackdown, but Zhiqi's schemes didn't end with whispers.
They were just getting sharper.
---
Ace Luo entered with sharp steps, trailed by producers and assistant coordinators. His serious expression silenced the room in seconds.
"Welcome to the next phase," he said. "The Stage of Origins — an international showcase event where only the strongest will survive."
The projector clicked to life.
Three countries. Three branches. One global debut lineup.
"Only eight trainees will debut under the Nova International label," Ace explained.
"Five from China, two from Korea, one from the U.S. branch."
The room erupted in murmurs. These weren't just training competitions anymore — this was for global exposure.
Ace's eyes swept the room, resting on Yining briefly, then shifting to Bai Zhiqi.
"You'll be evaluated by outside mentors and investors. Each branch's shareholders have also selected a representative to observe this phase closely."
His tone changed.
"And from China's board… he has arrived today."
The door opened.
A man in a dark tailored suit stepped in, casting a long shadow against the polished marble.
Shen Yuyan.
His presence was like a gust of wind — sharp, expensive, and heavy with unspoken power.
Some trainees gasped. Others froze. Even Bai Zhiqi's confident smirk twitched.
Yining's fingers curled involuntarily.
He shouldn't be here.
Not yet.
Not when she still wore the name "Lin."
Shen Yuyan scanned the room once, his expression unreadable.
His gaze passed over everyone... until it landed on her.
He didn't speak. Didn't smile. Didn't flinch.
But she knew.
He saw her.
Not as "Lin Yining."
But as the girl who used to practice piano in silk slippers behind locked villa gates.
As the heiress he was bound to — on paper and by family oath.
And yet, he said nothing.
Just sat silently beside Ace Luo and Liam Hayes as if she were no more than a name on the list.
The distance between them was only twelve meters.
But it felt like twelve years.
After pairing announcements were made, Liam Hayes stood and tapped his fingers on the mic.
"There's one final mission… and it's a solo."
A ripple of surprise passed through the group.
Ace crossed his arms. "The judges voted unanimously for one trainee to take it."
Liam smiled, his American drawl slow and deliberate.
"We're curious… what would happen if the underdog got the spotlight?"
He pointed toward the middle of the group.
"Lin Yining. You're it."
Gasps.
Zhiqi's eyes widened. A smile faltered.
Yining froze. "A solo?"
"You'll perform on your own, ahead of everyone. If you pass, you skip the next elimination and get an automatic seat in the Chinese Top 5."
Shen Yuyan didn't blink.
Neither did Feizhou.
But Zhiqi?
She was already moving.
Later that evening, Yining found her locker open.
A single black envelope sat on top of her folded training towel.
Inside, a glossy photo.
Of her — not "Lin Yining" — but Yining, in a dress from a high-society ball last year. Laughing. With her eldest brother behind her.
The photo was unmarked, but the message was clear.
"You hide this well. But not well enough."
No signature.
But she didn't need one.
She crumpled the photo with shaking fingers.
Just outside, Bai Zhiqi's voice floated down the hallway.
"I heard some people get solos because they're special… or maybe just sponsored."
She didn't even bother to lower her voice anymore.
Feizhou appeared at Yining's side before she even realized he had entered.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I'll be fine."
"You're lying."
She looked up.
"Maybe. But I'm used to it."
That night, a knock came on Ace Luo's office door.
He looked up — startled to see Shen Yuyan himself entering.
"You should speak with her," Ace said, almost gruffly. "She's not what you think."
Shen Yuyan didn't answer at first. Then:
"I already know what she is."
Ace narrowed his eyes. "Then why are you pretending you don't?"
Shen Yuyan's jaw tensed.
"She asked for three years without interference."
Ace scoffed. "If you wait too long… she'll choose someone else."
Shen Yuyan looked out the window toward the training wings, where Yining's silhouette was still practicing alone.
"I'm not worried," he said finally.
"Because when she remembers who she really is — there'll be no one left to stand beside her except me."
------
The next day
The last rehearsal before Yining's solo showcase began with tension and ended with silence.
Her performance was minimalist: raw vocals, stripped-down dance, and the kind of emotional expression that had no filters.
Some trainees murmured behind her back.
"She doesn't even have high notes."
"She's not sexy like Zhiqi..."
But the mentors said nothing — and Ace Luo's quiet nod at the end of her rehearsal was more meaningful than a hundred compliments.
---
Later that evening, a quiet knock echoed at the trainee residence.
Yining opened it to find a Nova staff member — a woman in a blazer with too much perfume — handing her a sleek black invitation.
"Director Li of Greenbird Films would like to speak to you privately. You've caught attention after your rehearsal."
"Greenbird Films?" Yining frowned. "They're not part of the debut investors."
"They're affiliated with a new entertainment agency joining the board," the woman added smoothly. "It's just a casual dinner."
Too casual.
Something in the pit of Yining's stomach stirred.
But she needed contacts. Exposure.
And for someone like her — a nobody from nowhere — this was part of the test too.
---
The restaurant wasn't in the usual trainee-safe zones. It was a rooftop lounge above a five-star hotel reserved for VIP industry guests.
She arrived early — cautiously dressed, no makeup — and found the director already sipping whiskey.
Li Haobo.
A middle-aged man with a polished smile, oily skin, and a gold watch far too tight around his wrist.
His compliments started as usual.
"You have this... raw purity. Very rare in this age."
She smiled politely.
He leaned closer. "You don't belong with trainees. You should be in lead roles. Music videos. Maybe even my next web drama."
She nodded without committing.
Then came the hand on her shoulder.
Subtle. But lingering.
"You know... I have full authority over casting. I can even make sure you place Top 5 without stepping into another practice room."
Her spine tensed.
"I'll work hard for it," she replied quietly.
Director Li smiled wider. "Everyone works hard. But smart girls—" he leaned close enough for her to smell the whiskey on his breath, "—they know when to stop working and start choosing."
---
Yining stood up immediately. "I should go."
His hand slid to her wrist.
But before she could react — another hand yanked the man backward.
"Your standards are pathetic," said a cold voice.
She turned, stunned.
Ace Luo.
Wearing black. Silent fury in every muscle.
"I suggest you keep your hands off anyone under my watch, Li-director."
Li Haobo's smile faltered. "It was just conversation—"
"I heard everything."
Ace's voice was sharp enough to cut glass.
"Touch another trainee, and I'll make sure every company from Beijing to Seoul sees your name on the blacklist."
Yining didn't speak — couldn't.
Ace turned to her quietly. "Go back to your dorm. Take nothing from him."
She nodded, lips trembling but eyes dry.
As she walked away, she heard Ace's final words.
"Not everyone takes shortcuts. And not everyone is for sale."
---
Elsewhere, a call was already being made.
Shen Yuyan 's voice was calm on the phone.
"Director Li's behavior crossed the line. Terminate his agency's investment stake. Quietly."
His assistant hesitated. "Yes, sir. Should we notify Miss Ren—"
"No," he said softly.
There was a pause.
"She made a deal to walk alone. Let her believe she still is."
---
The next day, Bai Zhiqi blocked Yining outside the changing room, holding a hairdryer like a weapon.
"Poor thing," she said sweetly. "Must be exhausting to work so hard when some of us are just born... talented."
Yining glanced at her. "You don't need to keep pushing me, Bai Zhiqi. I'm not in your way."
"You're in everyone's way," Zhiqi whispered, stepping closer. "Especially the sponsors'. Or do you think all of them want a girl with no background and no legs to stand on?"
Her eyes gleamed. "This industry has rules. You don't follow them... you don't survive."
Yining didn't flinch.
"I'll write my own rules, then."
That night, Feizhou found her alone on the rooftop balcony.
"You shouldn't have gone to that meeting."
"You heard?" she asked softly.
"I hear more than you think," he said, eyes distant.
She smiled weakly. "Ace saved me. Again."
"Not just him," Feizhou muttered.
She turned. "What?"
"Nothing."
There was silence.
Then he stepped closer. "If someone ever tries something like that again... you call me. I don't care if it's 2 a.m. I don't care if we're mid-practice."
She blinked. "Feizhou..."
"I don't know what you're hiding," he said. "But I know who you are. And I'll protect that — whatever it means."
----
The Show of Stars
Nova's main performance hall had never seen this kind of gathering. It wasn't just about the trainees now — it was about capital, future prospects, and the next marketable idol.
Investors from over twenty influential entertainment companies were seated in the grand audience rows. Behind them: representatives of streaming platforms, drama production houses, and fashion sponsors. Some were from Korea. Others from Taiwan, Singapore, and even Europe.
But all eyes were subtly watching one corner — where Shen Yuyan, CEO of the elite Starwake Entertainment, sat expressionless.
No one dared approach him.
He didn't even glance at the schedule.
He was here for one reason — and only he knew who that was.
---
Yining stood in the dimly lit backstage area, heart pounding beneath her ribcage.
Her palms were cold. Her legs? Almost trembling.
She had performed in small corners and underground showcases before — but this wasn't the same.
This stage was built for destruction.
One mistake and you're discarded like dust.
"Ready?" a voice said sharply.
She turned. Ace Luo.
He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes neither warm nor cold. Simply… evaluating.
"You look calm."
"I'm not."
"Good," he replied. "Only fools are calm before war."
She gave a tight smile.
Ace handed her the mic. "Whatever happens out there — remember, this stage doesn't belong to investors. It belongs to you."
He paused.
"Win it like you already own it."
Spotlight.
Silence.
As the music began, the crowd murmured — but fell quiet when they saw her.
No fancy outfit. No heavy makeup. Just a black high-waisted performance suit with white sleeves, minimal jewelry, and eyes full of fire.
The song was self-written. A blend of soft piano and aching pop — a journey of a girl who was invisible, bruised, and still refused to disappear.
"You said I'm a shadow
I carved light out of pain
You said I was lucky
But I bled behind the stage…"
Her voice wasn't the loudest.
But it carried weight — the kind of sorrow you couldn't fake, the kind of strength you couldn't buy.
In the audience, several executives started nodding.
"She's different," whispered one.
"Her voice isn't perfect, but she's real," another murmured.
Bai Zhiqi, watching from the sidelines, bit her lip — hard.
---
At first, Shen Yuyan sat unmoved.
But midway through the performance, his fingers stopped drumming the chair's edge.
His gaze — once detached — narrowed as her voice shook the hall.
He watched not just as an investor, but as a man who remembered a girl from years ago — a girl who once danced in his estate's courtyard barefoot, singing off-key just to make the staff smile.
He had never forgotten that voice.
But now, no one knew that the girl on stage — was his fiancée.
And yet… there she stood. Without power. Without protection.
And she was burning bright anyway.
---
Just as the applause was beginning to rise, the screens above the stage flickered.
Suddenly, Yining's face vanished — replaced by a video clip.
Someone gasped.
The sound crew froze.
The clip showed Yining receiving the black envelope days earlier — the one from Director Li's assistant.
"Is she... bribing someone?"
"Did she take a secret deal?"
"Was that an audition shortcut?!"
Whispers surged like a storm.
The stage lights dimmed.
The applause stopped.
Bai Zhiqi stood at the back — feigning shock.
"Oh no… What happened to the feed?" she said innocently.
But a smirk tugged at her lips.
She'd planted it herself. A half-cut clip to frame Yining.
To make her look dirty.
She didn't need to stain herself. She just needed to raise a doubt.
---
Before anyone could recover, Ace Luo stepped onto the stage.
"Stop the footage."
The lights returned.
He took the mic.
"There is no investigation needed. That clip was tampered. Director Li was blacklisted days ago for inappropriate conduct. That trainee—" he gestured at Yining, "—reported it before anyone else."
Gasps.
Ace looked directly at the rows of executives. "She refused to sell her dignity — and nearly lost her chance because of it."
He turned toward Bai Zhiqi's side of the hall.
Just briefly.
"Those who stain others to rise… will fall faster than they think."
---
Yining, still onstage, didn't cry.
She stepped forward slowly and took the mic.
"I came here with nothing," she said, her voice calm but sharp. "No company. No connections. Just a voice and a dream."
She looked toward the crowd, eyes locking with Shen Yuyan's for a brief, electric second.
"I never asked for sympathy. Just fairness."
The room was silent again.
Then someone clapped.
It was Feizhou.
Followed by another investor. Then another.
The hall filled with applause — but Yining didn't smile.