Chapter 13 The Thirteenth Day of Starting a Business

The entire practice room fell silent for a moment. The live-stream audience stared at Xia Xi’s back in unison, suddenly feeling as if they were witnessing a hero in action.  

It was like Ultraman Tiga defeating a monster, a martial arts master punishing a petty thief, or Pleasant Goat protecting Goat Village.  

[All I can say is… well done!]  

[Damn, this is such a satisfying revenge plot—Xia Xi is forever the best!]  

[She did what I wanted to do but couldn’t. I never realized Jing Shuo was this annoying before.]  

Of course, Jing Shuo’s fans were furious. They couldn’t stand seeing their idol “wronged” and immediately started hurling insults, bombarding Xia Xi with all kinds of nasty comments. But this time, things didn’t go as smoothly as before.  

Live chat:  

[Is she an orphan or something? She already warned everyone beforehand that she has a strong grip and that flicking hurts. She wasn’t treating the assistant coach as a guy—she was just being honest and straightforward!]  

[She’s always been serious. I love competitive girls like her—so adorable!]  

Jing Shuo’s fans: “…”  

This sounded oddly familiar.  

Of course it did! These were the exact arguments Jing Shuo’s fans had used to defend him before—now repurposed by neutral viewers.  

And it fit perfectly.  

The onlookers were practically dying of laughter. Wasn’t this the definition of using their own spear against their shield?  

…  

Jing Shuo left *Pick 101* wearing a cap pulled low over his forehead—his skin was still reddened, making it impossible to go out bare-faced.  

He still had other work commitments.  

That day, he went through multiple ice packs, and his makeup artist had to use nearly half a bottle of foundation to cover up the mark on his forehead.  

Jing Shuo’s fans wailed in despair—their sunshine boy had been wronged! This wasn’t over yet!  

Losing the battle in the live chat, Jing Shuo’s fans rallied on Weibo, planning to storm Xia Xi’s account—only to find out…  

She didn’t have one.  

So they turned around and swarmed the show’s official account, demanding an explanation and even calling for Xia Xi to be kicked out of *Pick 101*, determined to stir up a storm.  

Other viewers: *Who do you think you are?*  

The incident could have quietly blown over, and the production team wouldn’t have included it in the final edit. But because Jing Shuo’s fans made such a fuss, they actually managed to create some waves—  

Just not the kind they wanted.  

Netizens compiled the entire incident, including the contradictory statements from Jing Shuo’s fans, and even dug up his past history as a former idol group member.  

*”Jing Shuo’s fans—masters of double standards, truly world-class. (doge)”*  

*”Little hypocrites showing two faces, huh? Throwing a tantrum and trying to drag netizens into cyberbullying a pretty girl—did you really think people wouldn’t notice?”*  

*”Jing Shuo claims he’s an amateur, but he’s been in a boy band for years. Only one way to explain this—he must have amnesia.”*  

*”Xia Xi: Can’t take the heat?”*  

In the end, Jing Shuo’s fans’ grand online “crusade” against Xia Xi came to an abrupt halt when Jing Shuo himself reposted the show’s official Weibo post, clarifying that everyone got along fine and urging people not to overanalyze.  

If he hadn’t stepped in, his reputation would’ve been torn to shreds—he was one step away from being labeled a pathological liar.

Jing Shuo didn’t feel the slightest warmth from his fans’ protection—only frustration. The GIF of Xia Xi violently hitting his head had already spread everywhere, and Jing Shuo even knew his own staff were using it. Watching his fans’ antics, he repeatedly cursed them as idiots.

…

After the game ended, Xia Xi received grateful looks from several girls who had endured Jing Shuo’s forehead-flicking punishment.

They were all fresh-faced young girls, and some with thinner skin even developed swollen bumps. They accepted the consequences of losing fair and square, but it was impossible not to feel at least a little resentment. Outsiders might find it amusing—but only because they weren’t the ones in pain.

Jing Shuo hadn’t used normal force at all.

During dinner, Chu Sisi couldn’t resist gossiping. With no cameras around, she lowered her voice, “Xia Xi, can I ask you something?”

She hadn’t dared to ask earlier, worried it might cause trouble for Xia Xi. But since everything remained calm, she figured it was probably fine.

Right now, Chu Sisi wanted to interview this brave soul about her inner thoughts.

Before Chu Sisi could even finish, Xia Xi already understood. Wiping her lips with a napkin, she said, “Yes, I did it on purpose.”

Chu Sisi nodded: Right, can’t be too blatant, gotta keep up appearances.

Then—wait?

She blinked rapidly. What had Xia Xi just said?

Xia Xi repeated, “I said I did it on purpose.”

Unapologetic and bold.

The epitome of wild and untamed.

If it had been anyone else, Xia Xi wouldn’t have been so harsh. She admitted she had a personal grudge—she simply couldn’t stand that teaching assistant’s behavior. She could sense the malice radiating from him.

Zhao Tianqi, Chu Sisi, and Zhao Mengjia all raised thumbs of admiration at Xia Xi.

The latter two instantly became Xia Xi’s unofficial fangirls, while Zhao Tianqi remained slightly more rational. “Keep it low-key. If cameras were around, you couldn’t say that, got it?”

Xia Xi understood that much.

But even the wild and untamed Xia Xi had to face challenges—like rap.

…

Here’s how it happened: After Xia Xi’s group finished rehearsing *Imperfect Ladies* once more, the assistant director suddenly suggested:

“Xia Xi, why don’t you try a rap verse?”

Xia Xi: ?

She couldn’t fathom why the assistant director would propose such an absurd idea. Her first instinct was refusal.

“I can’t do it.”

“I’m not good at it. Chen Mengjia and the others would handle it better.”

To be precise, she was *terrible* at it. The contestants still vividly remembered Xia Xi’s awkward, tongue-twisting rap from the initial stage performance, so during task assignments, rap parts were given to those more skilled, while Xia Xi focused on high-difficulty moves.

But the assistant director had no intention of listening. He kept pushing, “That’s exactly why you should challenge yourself! Step out of your comfort zone!”

Xia Xi frowned in confusion. “But why should I step out of my comfort zone? Can’t I just stay in it?”

If she could ride in a car, why crawl on the ground?

The question left the assistant director speechless. Her teammates, stifling laughter out of respect for his presence, trembled with suppressed giggles. But the audience didn’t have to hold back.

[HAHAHAHA, oh my god, classic Xia Xi! That comeback is legendary.]

[Wifey spitting facts!]

[Is my baby a comedy genius or what? And yet, no one can argue—who can find fault with that logic?]

【Bold move, director. Are you trying to push Xia Xi out of her comfort zone? Clearly, you just want to see her embarrass herself—Vajra Finger warning… Though I’d also love to see Xia Xi rap.】

The assistant director finally convinced Xia Xi by saying, “A girl group needs to be all-rounded. Look at Chen Mengjia—she wasn’t good at dancing either, but she still had to practice.” Though the two scenarios weren’t really comparable.

Singing and dancing are essential for a girl group, while rap isn’t as strictly required. Still, Xia Xi reluctantly nodded.

If it’s a basic requirement, then she’d learn it.

Chen Mengjia picked a rap segment for Xia Xi, and under the expectant gazes of many, Xia Xi made her first attempt—

Xia Xi’s signature tongue-twisting rap made its grand debut once again.

Chen Mengjia patted Xia Xi’s shoulder and sighed, “Indeed, no one can be perfect at everything.”

Xia Xi picked up dancing quickly, effortlessly executing high-difficulty moves, and her singing was decent too. But her rap? That was a different story.

“There’s still time. I’ll teach you—guaranteed to learn and master it!” Since Xia Xi had helped Chen Mengjia with dancing, Chen Mengjia felt she could finally return the favor.

As Xia Xi listened to Chen Mengjia’s rap demonstration, something suddenly clicked in her mind.

Early the next morning, Xia Xi stood in the same spot as yesterday to showcase her rap. The cameraman was already prepared for another laugh, but when Xia Xi started, it was surprisingly… not bad?

Except for a faint, indescribable flavor to it.

The assistant director looked stunned. “Xia Xi, how did you learn this?” Did she have a breakthrough overnight?

Chen Mengjia frantically waved her hands. “Don’t look at me—we didn’t have much time to practice rap yesterday.”

So she self-taught? Terrifying.

Chen Mengjia: No one can be perfect at everything… except Xia Xi?!

Xia Xi revealed the answer: “I listened to Clapper Talk.” She had suddenly realized the similarities between Clapper Talk and rap, so she tried applying the rhythm of Clapper Talk—and it seemed to work?

Audience: ???! No wonder! That “flavor” was the taste of Clapper Talk!