CHAPTER 6: THE ALLURE OF THE UNKNOWN

After all the papers were submitted, the livestream for the pilot episode ended.

But the cameras didn’t stop rolling.

From the moment the girls moved into their dorms, every detail of their daily lives—unpacking, interactions, even minor conversations—would be filmed for behind-the-scenes footage, released across various platforms.

This was another way to win over audiences and gain public favor.

“Are we moving in today?” someone raised their hand to ask.

Zhao Qiuying nodded. “Yes, today.”

“Then… how will we be assigned rooms?”

Zhao Qiuying gave a small smile. Just then, Lin Sifeng spoke up: “…According to today’s rankings.”

A wave of exclamations erupted from the contestants.

Ahhh—they were actually assigning dorms based on their ranking choices?!

If they had known earlier… well, it wouldn’t have changed much. Even if they had known, they wouldn’t have dared to choose differently.

The A-rank suites were tempting, sure, but what really mattered was making it far in the competition, gaining fans, and increasing visibility. Even if they didn’t make it to debut, accumulating experience and recognition would give them leverage to dominate future survival shows.

Everyone’s minds raced with various thoughts.

Then, they watched as Xuan Wen took the neatly organized roster and began reading out names.

“The ones moving into the 29th floor are Jiang Su, Lin Sifeng, Ding Xuan, and Li Mo’er…”

Xuan Wen paused briefly, lifted his head, and said, “That’s all.”

That’s all?

Everyone was momentarily stunned.

Only four people had chosen to fill it out!

At that moment, who knew how many were secretly regretting their decision?

Even Xuan Wen, Zhao Qiuying, and the other two mentors had a flicker of surprise on their faces.

They hadn’t expected so many to be cautious—despite such an enticing offer, fear of point deductions had ultimately won out.

Zhao Qiuying’s gaze swept around before finally landing on Jiang Su.

By then, Jiang Su had already stepped forward with the others to receive their room cards for the 29th floor, along with access cards for the vocal rooms, dance studios, and other facilities.

Her face remained expressionless, as if she had already been at the top too many times to count.

Zhao Qiuying found himself unable to see through this girl.

Just like that day—he still couldn’t understand why she had suddenly surged out of the water on her own…

Even though her eyes had still been glistening with moisture, as if she had just cried her heart out.

Yet, standing there, her entire demeanor exuded a detached calmness, with just a hint of indifferent innocence.

“All right, go pack your things,” Yelena clapped her hands and instructed.

Jiang Su turned and left first, with Yu Xinyan naturally following closely behind.

“Do you think I can really get a D?” Yu Xinyan whispered.

Jiang Su: “Mm.”

Yu Xinyan: “Oh, I get it. I need to be confident, right?”

Jiang Su answered seriously, “Yes. There’s a saying: ‘The bold fear the ruthless, and the ruthless fear those who have nothing to lose.’ This proves how important momentum is in battle.”

Yu Xinyan nodded in agreement.

But then, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something about that phrase seemed… off.

What did she mean by “battle”? And why was she bringing up people with nothing to lose?

As she pondered this, she suddenly laughed to herself. “You’ve taught me so much—how to count beats efficiently, how to relax my body, singing techniques… You’ve taught me more than the instructors have! I have to succeed! If I don’t, wouldn’t that be embarrassing for you?”

Yu Xinyan mumbled a few more things to herself.

Jiang Su simply listened quietly without responding.

They returned to their apartment to pack their belongings.

Hearing the commotion, the others opened their doors, watching them from their rooms.

Everyone had just seen the live broadcast.

San Jin Entertainment had received quite a few camera shots this time. Despite Jiang Su barely speaking, the cameras—and the audience’s discussion—remained firmly centered around her.

For a moment, the other girls weren’t sure whether they should feel happy for their company or jealous of Jiang Su’s ability to stand out no matter where she went.

Jiang Su ignored their gazes and focused on packing with Yu Xinyan.

Wan Yue, on the other hand, walked over to chat with them, unable to hold back her excitement about how extravagant the Cheng Corporation was, making the others envious.

Wan Yue had finally made it… But who knew when their turn would come?

“It’s time to go,” Wu Qingqing called from the doorway.

Wan Yue was startled, realizing she had unknowingly been chatting for half an hour.

“You guys are done already?”

Wu Qingqing nodded.

Noticing her expression, Wan Yue quickly turned back to her room to pack. She didn’t know much about the others, but Wu Qingqing was definitely capable. She had been in a group before, and San Jin had spent extra money to sign her. Wan Yue had planned to ride on her coattails and didn’t want to offend her.

As Wan Yue went back inside, Wu Qingqing frowned slightly.

She genuinely wanted to get an A and debut successfully. She had little patience for those who slacked off or were just coasting along.

Thinking of this, Wu Qingqing looked down from the upper floors. Jiang Su and Yu Xinyan were already seated in the car.

The delicate girl rested her chin on her hand, leaning slightly against the window.

Her beautiful face revealed no visible desire, yet there was an untamed arrogance hidden deep in her bones…

“Alright,” Wan Yue hurriedly walked out, interrupting Wu Qingqing’s thoughts.

The group quickly departed, returning to the main building and taking the elevator up.

From here, their paths would diverge.

Yu Xinyan exited on the 27th floor, while Wan Yue and Wu Qingqing stepped out on the 28th.

The elevator continued to rise.

Wan Yue stared at the panel as the number changed from 28 to 29. Only then did she suppress the lingering feeling of unwillingness and turn away.

By now, the camera crew had caught up with them.

Jiang Su gave a fleeting glance at her new neighbors, nodding slightly in greeting before stepping into her room.

“She’s so cold,” someone muttered, sticking out their tongue in amusement.

She had deliberately done this little action to avoid being accused of talking too much. This way, the audience would only think that Jiang Su was the one being aloof.

Lin Sifeng simply smiled without responding.

She was 165 cm tall, slender, and strikingly beautiful. On Weibo, she had already accumulated five million followers—far surpassing most struggling minor celebrities.

Jiang Su, someone she had never even heard of, was utterly insignificant to her.

Lin Sifeng turned and entered her room, continuing her training.

She couldn’t afford to break her hardworking image.

Seeing that no one else responded, the other girl also returned to her room.

Just then, the cameras installed in their rooms began to move.

The trainees living on the 29th floor would have their extra footage prioritized for release on the streaming platform.

By the time the girls on the 27th and 28th floors realized this hidden advantage, who knew how many would be kicking themselves in regret?

The more exposure one had, the greater the chance of winning over the audience.

After all, a person’s affections often worked on a “first come, first served” basis. If viewers fell in love with someone early on, what would be left for those who came later?

Wan Yue was sitting in her room, not in a hurry to unpack. Instead, she logged into the website with the others to watch the behind-the-scenes footage.

[Lin Sifeng is working so hard. Even casual viewers can’t help but want to support her.]

[+1, I love hardworking and talented idols like this. Supporting her will be effortless!]

Wan Yue took a deep breath, feeling a mix of admiration, jealousy, and fear.

Lin Sifeng really was too incredible!

She quickly switched to Jiang Su’s footage—

Jiang Su entered the room and simply unpacked her belongings.

[Will she train?]

[I’m curious too. I’ve never seen her before and have no idea what she’s capable of. I don’t even know if I should invest in her or not!]

The next second—

Jiang Su kicked off her shoes, hesitated for a moment, then flopped onto the bed and rolled over… and over… and over again?

[Hahaha, what’s up with her? Why can’t she stop rolling?]

[She’s like my cat.]

[She’s still young and probably doesn’t know how to act for the cameras yet.]

[That bed must be really comfortable.]

And indeed, it was.

Jiang Su felt a rare moment of happiness.

She had lived in many places—under bridges, in graveyards as a child. Later, it was basements, dark rooms, and dormitories shared with over a dozen people.

The organization that had trained her wanted her to seamlessly blend into high society when needed. So, they taught her to recognize luxury items, including high-end bedding. But back then, she was only allowed to touch and memorize them before being taken away.

This was the best place she had ever lived in.

She rolled across the bed over twenty times, thoroughly savoring its softness and spaciousness, before finally getting up.

By now, more viewers had flooded into Jiang Su’s live-stream.

Unlike the initial wave of curious potential fans, this new group included those looking for drama or picking faults.

[Seriously? She chose A but isn’t even training? What, planning to laze around for a day before heading home?]

[Yeah… The others are at least stretching.]

[And practicing their dances.]

[What is she even doing?]

Jiang Su opened the fridge, took out some fruit, washed it, and sat down to eat at a leisurely pace.

[??? She’s actually given up?]

[I can’t believe this.]

[Why is the chat so aggressive? Every time a variety show airs, the comment section is unbearable.]

[+1, she’s adorable! Watching her eat grapes one by one makes me want some too.]

[Maybe she should become a mukbang streamer instead…]

The chat erupted into heated debates.

Anonymity behind the screen fueled emotions, and everyone vented freely.

Jiang Su didn’t see any of it. But Wan Yue did.

As others in the room watched in envy, Wan Yue calmly remarked, “Having behind-the-scenes footage released early isn’t always a good thing. The cameras on the 29th floor seem to be on 24/7. That means we’re being watched constantly. Any mistake will get called out immediately…”

The others froze, then their expressions changed to fear.

“Oh, wow. That’s a lot of pressure. Maybe we should just focus on settling in first.”

But Wan Yue wasn’t the only one watching Jiang Su’s stream.

Yan Yucheng and the company director were watching too.

The director sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. “We originally thought just having a pretty face would be enough. But she really is just a flower vase. She’s not even a little quick-witted…”

Frustrated, he scrolled through his phone. Was it time to stick to the original plan?

Yan Yucheng frowned. “Not quick-witted?”

Just as he spoke, Jiang Su casually tied up her soft, wavy hair and took off her jacket.

She slightly lowered her head, revealing the delicate curve of her snow-white neck. The contrast between the pale skin and her slender figure struck an inexplicable chord with everyone watching.

Wait a second—

Yan Yucheng’s eyelid twitched. He instinctively covered the screen with one hand while quickly grabbing the phone with the other.

Had no one told her?

Had no one informed her that the room had cameras rolling 24/7?

Zhao Qiuying, watching the stream from the nanny van, almost dropped his phone.

He had been watching Jiang Su’s footage since he got in. When the comments turned critical, he frowned. But when she tied up her hair and took off her jacket, he stopped breathing for a moment.

“Turn back!”

“No—wait! Call the production team right now! They didn’t notify Jiang Su. She doesn’t know there are cameras in her room!” Zhao Qiuying spoke urgently.

Still, his gaze was drawn back to the screen.

The chat was just as flustered.

[She’s way too careless.]

Of course, some accused her of deliberately seeking attention.

It had all happened in less than thirty seconds. But suddenly—Jiang Su froze.

Her ears twitched slightly, a subtle movement barely noticeable on camera.

Dressed in a flowing white dress, she slowly approached a wall and looked up—

The screen went black.

[???]

[Did the production team cut the signal?]

[Wait, I swear I saw her casually leap onto the sofa and reach for the camera… Her wrist is so delicate.]

[? You must be seeing things.]

Zhao Qiuying hesitated, then muttered, “…Never mind.”

Yan Yucheng slowly lowered the phone from his ear.

Had he imagined it?

Had he really just seen that frail-looking girl leap effortlessly and yank the camera down with a blank expression?

Must have misread.

Yan Yucheng thought to himself.

Inside the car, the manager couldn’t understand why Zhao Qiuying was so focused on Jiang Su.

“Just because you almost saved her last time? It wasn’t even a full rescue. You barely exchanged two sentences with her,” the manager said.

He secretly sighed in relief.

He had worried that the girl might not know her place, clinging onto Zhao Qiuying just because of that brief encounter. Zhao Qiuying was at the peak of his career right now—he couldn’t afford any mishaps.

Luckily, during the livestream, even when the girl said she liked Zhao Qiuying, she had sounded hesitant at best…

“She stands out,” Zhao Qiuying replied.

His tone was gentle as he asked his manager, “As a mentor, shouldn’t I be paying attention to these things?”

The manager was at a loss for words and fell silent.

Zhao Qiuying closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He stopped watching the livestream, but the scene from earlier lingered in his mind.

Along with the image of her climbing out of the water that day, and the moment she had pushed open the door to introduce herself to him, these memories replayed like a slideshow in his head.

They say beauty is most captivating when it’s half-hidden.

Catching only a glimpse, yet never fully seeing the whole picture—that’s what truly draws people in.

Like the way the livestream had cut off at just the right moment.

People had only seen her lower her head, tie her hair up, take off her jacket, revealing a glimpse of her neck—yet just that much was enough to leave an impression on some.

Yan Yucheng slowly exhaled, closing the screen. “Let’s go.”

The director was surprised. “Huh? You’re leaving work already?”

“Mm.”

A strange thought suddenly surfaced in Yan Yucheng’s mind.

Watching Jiang Su through the camera, subjected to the scrutiny and commentary of countless strangers online—she reminded him of himself.

Of when he had first returned to Beijing. Of when he had just entered the Yan family…

But she probably didn’t care about any of it. Fragile yet unwavering, she remained true to herself.

They were the same kind of people.

The moment that realization hit, Yan Yucheng pressed a hand to his chest, feeling an inexplicable surge of excitement.

—

In a high-end villa district, one particular estate stood out.

Sprawling and isolated, it was surrounded by private gardens, reigning over the area like a king.

Inside, a few servants stood nervously before the man in front of them.

“Miss Jiang has been missing for a while now…”

The man sat on the sofa, his striking features mostly hidden in the dim light.

“Why are you only telling me now?”

“She’s left home before. When you didn’t live here, she would run off all the time… We thought she’d be back in a few days this time too.”

A maid hurriedly added, “I saw her on the news later. It looked like… she jumped into a river. But she climbed out on her own and went to the hospital. I don’t know anything else.”

“How old is she this year?” he asked offhandedly.

“Nineteen.”

The man paused briefly before saying in a heavy tone, “So she’s already over a year past…”

The servants thought, Yes, who sponsors someone all the way to adulthood and even an extra year on top of that?

“A lost cause. Cut off her cards. I’m not her father,” the man said coldly, then dismissed the subject altogether.

After that, he took a phone call.

The person on the other end enthusiastically invited him to visit the Glimmer set.

The man replied impatiently, “Do you think I have time for that?”

The caller hesitated, then bowed their head in embarrassment and fear—even though they knew the man on the other end couldn’t see them.

Who the hell said Mr. Cheng liked young girls?

I was even thinking of bringing him over to take a look!

The man hung up, rubbed his temples, and headed upstairs to rest.

He hadn’t slept in three days.