Chapter 018: Performing a Palace Drama

Fang Yimeng hadn’t lied to Lu Jingshan—she really had been spending the past few days at the trainee boot camp.

The reason she entered the entertainment industry in the first place, aside from competing with Liao Ran, was her genuine passion for portraying a variety of characters.

She loved immersing herself in every script, experiencing each character’s struggles or joys firsthand, and getting a taste of the myriad hardships of life.

If it hadn’t been for her sudden awakening, she might still be caught up in competing with Liao Ran in acting skills, completely unable to pull herself out.

After three days of rehearsals and bonding, the trio finalized the emotional tone of their scene and began preparing for the second filming of the second episode.

On the recording day, in order to fully immerse herself in the script, Fang Yimeng headed straight into her dressing room upon arriving at the studio to rehearse her lines.

It wasn’t until a staff member reminded her it was time to shoot that she made her way to the set.

Today’s main focus was the performance segment by the five groups. After a brief introduction to link it with the previous episode, the host had each group draw lots to determine the performance order.

Fang Yimeng sat together with Ou Xiangchen and Zhu Rong. When she noticed the two trainees simultaneously looking at her, she paused for a moment.

“My luck with drawing lots has always been terrible,” she subtly hinted that they shouldn’t count on her.

After the past few days of working together, Zhu Rong had warmed up to Fang Yimeng and no longer felt as resistant toward her. However, since her actual mentor was present, she restrained her usual easy-going nature, appearing more distant and awkward.

“It’s alright, Teacher Fang. The performance order isn’t that important,” Zhu Rong said.

“If you really don’t want to, I’ll do it,” added Ou Xiangchen.

With his aloof features and naturally distant aura, Ou Xiangchen carried an innate air of nobility. Fang Yimeng had once teased that if he ever starred in a xianxia drama, he would be the perfect image of a transcendent immortal beyond the mortal world.

Zhu Rong glanced from Fang Yimeng to Ou Xiangchen, now observing him with a more curious look.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Fang Yimeng began to explain, worried they might think she was being difficult. “It’s just that I tend to overthink and self-criticize, no matter what the result is. I always manage to find something to blame myself for.”

Just then, the host onstage was still riding the wave of drama from the previous recording. Once again, he threw the spotlight onto Fang Yimeng.

“Teacher Fang, what would be your ideal outcome for today’s group performance draw?”

Everyone turned to look at her in unison.

Fang Yimeng casually brushed a loose strand of hair by her temple, giving the camera an awkward yet polite smile.

“Let’s leave that pressure to the two trainees in our group. I’m already a seasoned performer—I don’t get performance-stage PTSD anymore.”

On the surface, it looked like she was deflecting the question, but in reality, she was giving the two trainees a chance to be in the spotlight.

Sure enough, the camera turned to Ou Xiangchen and Zhu Rong, and the host followed Fang Yimeng’s lead by directing questions at them.

“Judging by your group’s outfits, I assume your performance has something to do with a historical setting. Since this is your first time working with Teacher Fang, do you have any thoughts to share?”

Zhu Rong instinctively glanced toward Liao Ran, then gave a standard, by-the-book reply to the host—carefully avoiding any mention of working with Fang Yimeng.

When it came to Ou Xiangchen’s turn, the host joked, “If I’m not mistaken, Ou is Teacher Fang’s only personal trainee. Now that you’re in the same group, how does it feel?”

“Our senior has far more experience than us. Through this collaboration, I’ve learned a lot of new things from her.”

In contrast to Zhu Rong’s evasiveness, Ou Xiangchen couldn’t stop mentioning Fang Yimeng, practically overflowing with praise.

After a few more questions about their preparations, the drawing session concluded.

Other groups took turns drawing lots—some mentors went up themselves, while others sent trainees. When it was Fang Yimeng’s group’s turn, the three looked at each other. Before Zhu Rong could back out, Ou Xiangchen stood up.

He was dressed in a Feiyu robe, silver and white with embroidered brocade patterns. His naturally cold and detached features paired perfectly with the dignified robe, giving off an aura of reserved elegance and discipline.

He drew a ball from the box—it had the number “1” on it.

Fang Yimeng exhaled in relief at the result.

Her role was that of a powerful imperial consort in the palace. Her voluminous curls were styled into a high bun, adorned with a golden phoenix crown set with pearls, along with several gold hairpins—just the weight on her head felt like a thousand pounds. Her outfit was an elaborately embroidered off-shoulder long robe and floor-length skirt, regal and opulent.

“First is best—get it over with early, die and reincarnate sooner,” Fang Yimeng muttered as she tugged at the cumbersome outer robe.

Once the order was decided, stagehands quickly began setting up for the first scene.

Lifting her heavy skirt, Fang Yimeng prepared to step onto the stage—when suddenly, she felt her burden lighten. She turned around and saw Ou Xiangchen, dressed in his silver Feiyu robe, calmly holding up the train of her dress.

“Thank you,” she nodded slightly in gratitude, then strode quickly to the stage, free of encumbrance.

Once the three of them were in position, the stage lights went dark.

Fang Yimeng seated herself on a luxurious dragon throne, adjusted her wide sleeves and collar slightly, straightened her posture, and began to sink into her character.

As the lights slowly came up, the stage brightened.

Zhu Rong played a favored consort who had just risen in the emperor’s favor. With a mix of righteous anger, she walked to center stage. When she was close enough, the imperial consort finally opened her eyes.

The previously gentle expression vanished, replaced by cold sharpness and arrogant dignity. Her commanding presence radiated from her entire posture.

“You’re merely a newly favored concubine—how dare you not bow before this palace!”

With one cold reprimand, the performance officially began.

Zhu Rong was briefly stunned by Fang Yimeng’s domineering aura and stunning beauty—she looked like an actual imperial consort who had stepped out of ancient times. If it weren’t for that shout, Zhu Rong might have forgotten her lines.

“Imperial Consort, you’ve only held power in the palace for barely half a month. Don’t forget, the rightful empress still sits above you! What right do you have to use private punishment and take my maid away?”

They were performing an excerpt from a classic palace drama that had aired on various TV stations for years.

The imperial consort let out a soft, contemptuous laugh, her red lips curling into a sneer. One slender hand rested on the armrest, the other slowly extended as she inspected her palm, then the back of her hand—completely ignoring the other woman’s words.