CHAPTER 12: LOVE AND HATE JIANG SU

Since there were many people at dinner, and Zhao Qiuying didn’t want Jiang Su to become a target, he only chatted briefly with her before sitting with the other mentors.

Someone asked, “Where’s Teacher Dong?”

Her assistant quickly stepped forward and said, “Teacher Dong suddenly felt unwell. Sister Wang just took her to the hospital.”

Zhao Qiuying paused for a moment and then said, “If she’s unwell, she should withdraw from the upcoming recordings.”

The assistant forced an awkward smile, unable to respond.

That wasn’t something one could respond to carelessly. If she did, then Best Actress Dong might really lose her chance to be a guest—wouldn’t she be skinned alive for it?

Most people hadn’t caught the deeper meaning behind those words, but Jiang Su lifted her eyes slightly, glancing at Zhao Qiuying with a hint of surprise.

From the images playing in her mind, it was clear that this Best Actress Dong was quite popular—she had status, fame, and wealth, along with great social connections.

But somehow, it didn’t quite match the perspective of her past self.

Jiang Su quickly withdrew her gaze and thoughts, focusing instead on the food in front of her.

Mentor Jiang Sheng had ordered a roasted lamb leg.

Jiang Su took a bite—the crispy outer layer gave way to tender, juicy meat with a slight charred aroma. It was the best meat she had ever eaten. She licked her lips unconsciously, wondering about the “Qiuting Yue” that Zhao Qiuying had mentioned. If that restaurant specialized in beef and lamb dishes even better than a hotel restaurant… how delicious would it be?

The mentor-led gathering soon came to an end.

The trainees were still a bit reserved, with few of them really eating much. As Jiang Su stepped outside, she let out a small, unintentional burp.

Xuan Wen looked up at the sky. “It’s getting late.”

The production team arranged for a car to take the trainees back to the dorm first. The mentors’ car followed behind, only leaving after ensuring everyone returned safely.

Zhao Qiuying wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

The chief director had asked Jiang Su to record a supplementary interview, and he simply stood by the door, silently watching.

“Can you tell us why you decided to participate in this show?” the director asked.

“The company arranged it.”

The director was obviously unsatisfied with such a bland response, so he pressed further. “Then why did you agree to the company’s arrangement?”

Jiang Su hesitated for a moment. “…Money.”

The director’s eyes lit up. Now that was refreshingly honest! This was interesting!

He laughed. “What do you plan to do with the money once you earn it? Have you thought about how much you might make from this show?”

Jiang Su had no real concept of this.

She was momentarily dazed. “…Two million?”

That was still much easier than being an assassin, so naturally, the pay shouldn’t be as high.

She moved her lips slightly and added, “Mmm… I could have a few more meals at Haidilao. And if I could go to Qiuting Yue for a meal, that’d be even better.”

Zhao Qiuying’s body stiffened slightly.

She remembered those words.

Even if, throughout the show, Jiang Su never took the initiative to mention anything about that day when she had fallen into the water… Was her distant attitude actually a way to avoid troubling him?

The director continued, “That day, you mentioned Augusta. What is that?”

“A motorcycle brand.”

Of course, the director didn’t believe she had actually ridden a motorcycle across a river, so he simply chuckled and changed the question. “How far do you think you’ll make it in the competition?”

What kind of question was that?

Jiang Su answered calmly, “The final episode.”

The director was satisfied and signaled his assistant to bring in the next interviewee.

As Jiang Su stepped out, another trainee approached her, holding something in their hand.

The trainee smiled nervously. “Would you… like some hawthorn slices? I noticed you ate quite a lot at dinner.”

Jiang Su paused, scrutinizing the trainee for a few seconds before slowly reaching out to accept the offering. “Thanks.”

The trainee, clearly flustered, blushed and quickly ran off.

Jiang Su leisurely unwrapped the hawthorn slices and popped one into her mouth, sucking on it. The taste was a pleasant mix of sweet and sour.

She made her way to the 29th floor at a slow pace, mumbling under her breath, “Why are so many people being nice to me? Do they actually want to be friends with me?”

Her tone was indifferent, yet her words carried an unmistakable innocence and confusion.

Zhao Qiuying, listening nearby, felt his heart soften. It was amusing, but at the same time, he grew even more curious.

What kind of life had she lived before this?

How could someone like her—someone so amazing—think that no one would want to be her friend?

Zhao Qiuying had the sudden urge to step forward and say, “I do.”

But he wasn’t sure if Jiang Su would be pleased to see him at this moment.

Just then, the elevator chimed with a soft “ding,” and Jiang Su’s cold voice rang out, sharp and alert.

“Who’s following me?”

Zhao Qiuying suddenly realized—he had completely broken his usual rules and boundaries. He had unknowingly followed her all the way here… like some kind of stalker.

He had been tailing Jiang Su.

“It’s me.” Zhao Qiuying stepped forward.

Jiang Su tilted her head slightly, her eyes losing their previous coldness. “Do you need something?”

Zhao Qiuying hesitated for a moment before saying, “Not really. I just wanted to ask you…”

“Hm?”

For some reason, he was a little nervous. He took a shallow breath and said, “Do you find the training exhausting?”

Jiang Su: ?

Jiang Su replied, “I don’t feel much of anything.”

Zhao Qiuying’s gaze lingered on her pale face. “Get some rest. Take care of yourself.”

Jiang Su found this quite interesting.

Aside from all the people who had shown her kindness during the day, now there was someone checking up on her at night too… How strange.

She had never encountered anything like this before.

In the welfare home where she had lived, interactions had always been cold and detached.

Jiang Su let out a quiet “Mm,” then pressed the button for the 29th floor again.

Forget it. Since someone actually cared about her, she’d let him off the hook this time. She wouldn’t interrogate him to see if he had any ulterior motives…

Zhao Qiuying watched the elevator ascend, completely unaware that he had just dodged a major crisis.

Just then, his manager and assistant hurried over to pick him up.

The manager muttered, “If you were going out to eat, why didn’t you tell us? We didn’t even get a press release ready.”

“What’s there to prepare?” Zhao Qiuying replied indifferently.

As they took another elevator downstairs, Zhao Qiuying suddenly asked, “Weren’t you worried before that Jiang Su would try to use me for connections?”

The manager tensed up instantly. “Wait, what? Did she approach you? Did she try to seduce you during the dinner?”

“…When she looks at me, it’s as if she’s seeing a stranger—no emotion at all. She doesn’t say anything extra either.” Zhao Qiuying’s expression turned slightly cold as he continued, “So, stop making baseless assumptions about her.”

Seduction?

There had indeed been people who tried to seduce Zhao Qiuying before, but he simply couldn’t imagine Jiang Su saying those kinds of words or making those kinds of gestures. She was always so indifferent, as if nothing could ever truly affect her.

Zhao Qiuying’s breath hitched. His fingers tightened, realizing that these thoughts were far from gentlemanly, and he forcefully pushed them down.

“Did you hear me?” Zhao Qiuying turned to his manager.

For a moment, the manager caught a glimpse of something cold and commanding in the eyes of this young idol who had risen to fame so quickly.

A chill ran down his spine. “…Yes, I understand.”

Jiang Su must have cast some kind of spell.

—

The trainees’ supplemental interviews were quickly released on the platform.

Inside a high-end hospital room, Dong Jiayu sat on the hospital bed while her caretaker massaged her ankle. Beside her, Sister Wang was watching the interview—until she abruptly turned it off.

“If I remember correctly, you originally planned to have dinner with Zhao Qiuying at Qiutingyue, didn’t you?” Sister Wang asked.

Dong Jiayu felt a bit embarrassed and responded in a low voice, “Mm.”

Sister Wang scoffed. “Well, isn’t this proof that she plays the game better than you? She even made sure to mention Qiutingyue in the interview… Now, how do you think Zhao Qiuying will take that?”

Dong Jiayu pressed her lips together and said coldly, “Impossible. What kind of tricks could she have? She’s nothing but a pure, weak little flower.”

Sister Wang rolled her eyes. “You should really start keeping up with trending news. Do you even know how she managed to steal the spotlight on this show?”

A flicker of unease flashed through Dong Jiayu’s eyes. She immediately picked up her phone and searched for Jiang Su’s name. As expected, there were countless posts praising her.

[She and Li Mo’er barely moved the entire time, yet somehow, the entire episode kept focusing on her!!]

[Jiang Su’s interview was too cute! She just wants to make more money so she can eat Haidilao more often? Give her everything! Give her all of Qiutingyue!]

After reading just two comments, Dong Jiayu’s face darkened.

“Don’t get mad. Endure it. Keep reading,” Sister Wang instructed.

Dong Jiayu clenched her jaw, forcing herself to push through the flood of emotions—unease, jealousy, and frustration—as she finished reading everything.

“So? How do you feel now?”

“Impossible!” Dong Jiayu snapped. “There’s no way she could pull this off. If she was that capable, wouldn’t Cheng Yue have fallen for her already? But the truth is, Cheng Yue sees her as nothing more than a useless little plaything.”

Sister Wang sighed. “Then why don’t you go back to the show and see for yourself?”

—

After successfully dividing into classes, the trainees began their training in groups.

Once training ended, they would perform in their first public stage.

Only those in Class A were allowed to perform solo, earning them more screen time and a head start in gaining audience votes and favoritism. The rest of the trainees had to form teams of 2-6 members for their performances.

During this period, everyone was scrambling to make the most of their time and resources, training non-stop.

Yu Xinyan was getting anxious. “Everyone’s already picked their songs…”

Only Jiang Su hadn’t made a decision yet.

The show provided a list of songs to choose from, both to guide the trainees and to avoid copyright issues.

Yu Xinyan had already picked one—not as good as the one Jiang Su had previously chosen for her, but still decent. And since she was in Class A, she had priority. Whatever was left for the others would be far worse.

“But… if you don’t pick soon, the only options left for you will be bad ones,” Yu Xinyan warned.

Jiang Su had spent most of her time listening to music, barely participating in training or song selection.

Now, she casually took off her earphones and stood up. “Let’s go to the 28th floor.”

“Huh?”

“Mm.”

Yu Xinyan quickly followed after her, looking every bit like her little sidekick.

—

On the 28th floor, they found Wu Qingqing, who was standing with Wan Yue, the latter speaking to her in a low voice—probably trying to convince her to form a team.

The moment Wan Yue saw Jiang Su, she stiffened and immediately stopped talking.

Jiang Su asked Wu Qingqing, “What song did you pick?”

Wu Qingqing hesitated before answering.

Jiang Su tilted her head slightly, as if searching through her memory. After about half a minute, she finally spoke. “That song… I think a section of its melody was plagiarized. There’s a lawsuit about it right now.”

Wan Yue immediately snapped, “Oh, so now you ‘know’ this too?”

Jiang Su replied calmly, “Yes. The internet is an expansive information network—you can find anything you need if you know where to look.”

Wan Yue scoffed, thinking Jiang Su was full of herself, and let out a quiet snort.

Wu Qingqing lowered her head in thought for a few seconds before decisively saying, “Then I won’t choose this song.”

Wan Yue exclaimed, “But this song is really popular!”

It felt like Wu Qingqing’s mind was being torn in two—one part rationally telling her to keep the song, the other part screaming at her to listen to Jiang Su. The conflict was so intense that even her fingertips trembled.

She looked up and asked, “If you’re telling me this, you must already have a plan, don’t you?”

Jiang Su nodded. “If you give up this song, you, me, and Yu Xinyan can pick one together.”

Yu Xinyan immediately responded, “Yes! That sounds great!”

Wu Qingqing pressed her lips together before finally nodding. “Alright.”

Wan Yue: ?

Wan Yue couldn’t hold it in anymore. “What about me?”

Jiang Su turned to look at her, as if evaluating her worth.

Wan Yue snapped, “Are you targeting me on purpose?”

Jiang Su nodded. “Mm. You’re absolutely right.”

Wan Yue: “…”

The behind-the-scenes live stream was filled with laughter.

[What’s going on? Everyone else is desperately trying to build an image of being friendly and kind-hearted, but Jiang Su, what are you doing?!]

[Hahaha, Wan Yue really is useless. Jiang Su picking and choosing isn’t wrong at all.]

[Truly a case of clear love and hate.]

[? Are Jiang Su’s fans really this confusing? Since when is being rude considered being genuine? What did Wan Yue ever do to her?]

[Has Jiang Su become addicted to dragging people down? She clearly could’ve performed solo, so why choose to form a team?]

Meanwhile, in another location.

Cheng Yue entered the conference room, and a middle-aged, balding man immediately stood up, put away his phone, and flattered him with a smile. “President Cheng, your Microlight platform recently launched a talent show that’s been a huge hit! It’s trending on social media three or four times already. Truly impressive, President Cheng!”

Cheng Yue’s expression remained dark and brooding. He lifted his gaze slightly and spoke in an unhurried manner: “You have time to watch such brainless, pointless content, but no time to clear out the water sloshing around in your head? Has the Yan family fallen so low that they can only afford to keep people like you around now?”