Start by Spending One Billion [Entertainment Industry]

**"The Voice of You"** seemed to have become the most talked-about show overnight.

Not only did the broadcast time slot change, but adjustments were made across the board—the business team, planning team, camera crew, technical team, and even the director's team had new members added.

Finally, they had makeup artists who weren’t just skilled at painting "pirate ship" makeup.

All contestants were notified to arrive at the set eight hours early. The studio hastily cleared out a makeup room, where styling and outfit fittings took place while the stage outside was still being frantically set up with lights and backdrops.

The chief director, **Zhou Weigang**, was both exhilarated and anxious. One moment, he dashed onto the stage to oversee the backdrop setup, the next, he hurried into the makeup room to check progress, and before long, he magically appeared in the camera department to inspect the newly delivered equipment.

Once treated like an unwanted stepchild, the show had suddenly become the most cherished favorite, with so many people eagerly anticipating its premiere. This left the middle-aged man, whose temples were already streaked with white despite being only in his forties, practically wanting to micromanage every detail to ensure nothing went wrong.

Inside the makeup room—his seventh visit in two hours—the studio had splurged on hiring a renowned makeup team. Professionals lived up to their name: the contestants, who had previously looked like they’d crawled out of the sea as dark-themed villains, now had clean, radiant faces.

They sat in order of their performance sequence, each with a large mirror in front of them so the makeup artists could quickly assess their looks. Even the outfits had upgraded from "just wear your own clothes" to "racks of carefully selected ensembles styled by a costume designer."

To think that during the initial auditions, they’d just plopped contestants onto a tiny stool, slapped on some makeup without letting them check the result, and dragged them straight to the photo shoot.

Every contestant was buzzing with excitement.

Those who signed up for this obscure, no-name show weren’t exactly established figures—though they all harbored dreams of "maybe getting famous." Deep down, they knew how slim those chances were.

Out of eighty participants, only four had any industry connections. One of them was only there because of a personal favor to **Zhou Weigang**, who had dragged him in to lend some credibility. The remaining seventy-six were amateurs, some of whom had barely scraped through the screening process.

What could they do? The turnout had been pitiful!

These days, talent shows were a dime a dozen—dancing on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, acting on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, leaving just Sunday for singing.

Anyone serious about getting on TV flocked to bigger, better-funded programs. Who’d bother with this scrappy little show that had nothing to offer?

Who could’ve predicted that this very show would catch the eye of **President Sheng**?

Grinning from ear to ear, **Zhou Weigang** returned to the makeup room once more: "Make him look stunning—add some sparkle. He’s up first, so he needs to grab attention. Give him an ethereal glow, something that’ll wow the audience."

The makeup artist kept her composure. With **Zhou Weigang** beaming like a sunflower, she couldn’t very well snap, *"Do you think I’m a magician? I can’t turn an ordinary guy into a celestial being."* Instead, she dutifully touched up Contestant #1’s makeup, adding a bit more shimmer for better stage impact.

She thought Contestant #1 was average, but the man himself stared into the mirror, convinced this was the best he’d ever looked in his life.

Once **Zhou Weigang** left, he cheerfully struck up a conversation with the contestant seated beside him, who’d been admiring himself for half the day: "What’s your number? How come it’s not your turn yet?"

This contestant had unusually long hair for a guy—though it wasn’t uncommon in the entertainment industry, his bangs were so overgrown they nearly covered his eyes. Combined with his slight slouch, Contestant #1 could only make out that his lips were delicate and well-shaped.

Then, those lips moved slightly:

"**79**."

"Whoa, second to last! No wonder you’re not up yet. But I bet it’ll be your turn soon."

Undeterred by the lack of engagement, Contestant #1 prattled on excitedly: "My mom signed me up. Said just being on TV would be enough—didn’t expect us to become the center of attention overnight! I was so hyped I almost couldn’t sleep last night. I nearly backed out when they said it’d air late, but then it blew up *and* got moved to prime time!"

"Plus, we might even get to meet **Sheng Quan**—feels like meeting a celebrity, you know? Wonder if I can snag an autograph. You wanna try too? After the show, let’s go look for her together. You seem shy, but don’t worry, stick with me. I’ve got top-tier social skills—might actually pull it off."

He rambled on endlessly, while **Jin Jiu** only occasionally responded with curt phrases like *"No,"* *"Not interested,"* or *"Don’t need to."*

Contestant #1 didn’t mind. If anything, he thought **Jin Jiu** was remarkably patient and polite, listening to his monologue without once telling him to shut up. Anyone else would’ve bolted by now.

After what felt like ages (one-sided, of course), Contestant #1 finally realized they hadn’t introduced themselves: "Oh, right! I’m **An Baixing**. My mom’s a huge fangirl, hence the name. What’s yours?"

Two syllables again: "**Jin Jiu**."

"**Jin Jiu**? Like ‘toast’? Hahaha, your folks must *love* drinking! That’s a memorable name—perfect for the internet era. You gotta own it! Just stride onstage and say, *‘I’m Jin Jiu, but I don’t drink.’* Bam, instant impression. Even if you get eliminated, that intro’ll stick with people. Hey, if you blow up, take me with you! And if *I* blow up, I’ll return the favor. We could even form a duo."

Without waiting for a reply, **An Baixing** pivoted to another topic:

"Y’know, I’ve heard tons of people say this show’s basically **President Sheng**’s dating audition. Online rumors claim she’s here for a specific contestant—otherwise, why pick *The Voice of You* out of all the big-name shows?"

He glanced around conspiratorially before whispering: "After the show went viral, they actually planned to replace us with professional singers. But they chickened out—afraid they might accidentally cut **President Sheng**’s favorite."

"Man, the makeup artist made me look *this* good—what if **President Sheng** wants me as her trophy boy? I’m an artist, not a gigolo! And you—can’t see much of your face, but I bet you’d clean up nice too. Maybe she’s into the cold, mysterious type."

Perhaps worn down by the relentless chatter, **Jin Jiu** finally spoke a full sentence: "No one would like me. They kept us because swapping contestants would look bad."

"Fair, we’re total unknowns. Wait—" **An Baixing** blinked. "You *can* form long sentences! And your voice—kinda husky, but in a cool way. You must sing great."

Jin Jiu froze for a moment, his hand instinctively rising to lightly touch his throat.

He hesitated, uncertainty coloring his tone: "Is my voice... pleasant to listen to?"

"Of course! Wait, you didn’t know? Your voice has this naturally mesmerizing quality—shorter sentences don’t quite capture it, but when you speak at length, it’s obvious. I’m so jealous. You’ve got such a gifted voice. You’ll definitely make it to the next round."

An Baixing glanced around:

"Hey, why don’t we practice a bit before your makeup artist arrives? We’ll keep it quiet—just give each other some feedback before we go onstage."

"I don’t—" Before Jin Jiu could finish, An Baixing had already started humming softly, grinning and waggling his eyebrows as if urging Jin Jiu to listen closely.

Jin Jiu swallowed the rest of his words and listened for a while before finally blurting out, "That line’s too flat."

The moment he spoke, he regretted it. As fellow contestants, who was he to critique? An Baixing would probably take offense.

Jin Jiu clamped his mouth shut like a stubborn clam. But to his surprise, An Baixing paused and said, "Really? Let me try lifting it a bit."

He sang the line again, then stopped, delighted. "Wow, that does sound better! You’re amazing. Did you go to a professional school? You’ve got real technique."

"Come on, keep listening—give me more tips. Maybe I can dazzle President Sheng so much she picks me right away. If it’s just performing and nothing else, I’d gladly be her little songbird!"

Jin Jiu thought to himself: *If that’s the case, this bird is way too noisy.*

An Baixing added, "Don’t think I’m being shameless, okay? I bet you—90% of these eighty contestants are hoping to catch President Sheng’s eye. Honestly, I think she must’ve taken a liking to one of us. No, scratch that—*everyone* thinks so."

He pulled out his phone and immediately scooted closer to Jin Jiu. "Perfect timing—check this out. There’s this super detailed analysis post. Let’s read it together."

Jin Jiu wasn’t interested, but An Baixing had already shoved the phone in his face. Reluctantly, he glanced at the screen. The thread title was blunt: **[Analyzing: Who Is President Sheng Here For in "Voice of You"?]**

**Original Post:**

*Why am I so sure President Sheng came for a specific contestant? Simple: if it weren’t for someone, out of all the shows out there, she’d never pick this small-time program.

Commercially, this show was practically worthless before. And as for connections? Given how the production team’s been acting like they hit the jackpot lately, it’s clear she had no prior ties to them.

Most importantly, everyone knows President Sheng saw a link in the "Path of Life" book fan group before expressing interest in attending. That link only had contestants’ photos, names, and ages.

The only logical explanation is she recognized someone’s name or photo and decided to come.

Plus, President Sheng initially said she’d skip it because it was too late—but pay attention. Shortly after, Strawberry TV rescheduled "Voice of You."

Before making such a change, they’d have to hold meetings, right? Discuss it, right? I’ve got a friend at the network, and trust me, decisions like this aren’t made on a whim. Factoring in meeting times, it’s almost as if Strawberry TV acted the second President Sheng spoke.

So here’s the question: at that point, the screenshot hadn’t gone viral yet. How did they know?

And if Strawberry TV changed the slot, weren’t they worried President Sheng might still no-show and leave them embarrassed? If she didn’t come, the rising hype would crash, and the whole network would become a laughingstock.

The only way they’d take that risk is if they were certain she’d come.

Therefore, the truth is obvious: after President Sheng posted in the group, she privately contacted Strawberry TV and asked them to reschedule. If that’s true, here’s the kicker—

"Voice of You" was originally airing at 1 AM, a dead timeslot. Now it’s been moved to primetime at 8 PM. Do we really believe it’s just because President Sheng wanted to sleep earlier?

Could it be… she took a liking to a contestant and nudged the show to give them a golden slot?

Of course, this is all speculation. But with rumors swirling that President Sheng will attend tonight’s taping—

If she shows up, I’m 100% certain: she’s here for someone.

President Sheng’s base is in Shanghai. Here’s the flight duration to Xinan: a full four hours.

Add in travel to the airport, security, waiting to board, etc., and she’s spending nearly eight hours just to watch a tiny show.

Eight. Hours. That’s President Sheng’s eight hours.

We all know a wealthy person’s time is their most valuable asset—every second is money. Would she really cross multiple cities, sit on a plane for over four hours, and waste another four on logistics…

Just to watch a 90-minute show in Xinan?

Mark my words: if President Sheng appears tonight, I’m calling it now—she’s absolutely leaving with one (or more) of those eighty contestants.

I’ve been counting down to the broadcast. We’ll know if I’m right by tonight.*

Admittedly, the original poster’s reasoning was solid—even Jin Jiu found it persuasive.

But what did it have to do with him? President Sheng definitely wasn’t here for *him*.

An Baixing, however, was convinced this concerned them deeply. "This OP is a legend. It makes so much sense. So one of us eighty might actually be the lucky one—maybe even me!"

"Come on, let’s check the replies. Damn, this thread blew up fast—over 3,000 comments already."

Leaning against Jin Jiu, he cheerfully scrolled through the responses.

**User "Wood Leaf":** *666666*

**User "Sugar & Cat Lover":** *OP is cracked.*

**User "Free Soul":** *Exactly. Unless Strawberry TV collectively lost their minds, they’d never reschedule just because of a screenshot. Anyone in TV knows how chaotic last-minute changes are.*

**User "Author, Drop 100K Words Pls":** *I get them sucking up to President Sheng, but changing the slot without confirmation? No way.*

**User "Did You Do Your Youth Studies?":** *OP’s right—something felt off, and this explains it.*

**User "Update 10K Words Today":** *But have y’all actually looked at the contestant list? Half of them look like they crawled out of a haunted house. Who could President Sheng possibly fancy?*

**User "Extra No. 5":** ^ *Agreed. Every one of them looks like a gremlin.*

**User "Shang Bo":** *That’s just bad makeup. With the hype now, no way the show’s keeping those clown looks.*

**User "Citizen 110":** *OP, you’re a genius! Keep cooking—you’re the next big analyst!*

**Anxiety Porridge:** ["Everyone's makeup and styling are so ugly, which means Sheng Quan couldn't possibly be judging based on looks. So it must be the names, right?"]

**Chenchen:** ["Most of the contestants seem to be amateurs."]

**Tangtang Sugar Forest:** ["Not all of them. I searched the names one by one—four of them aren’t newcomers: Yu Hongdou, Ma Wei, Jin Jiu, and Ai Taiying."]

An Baixing was scrolling down with great interest when he suddenly paused at Jin Jiu’s name. He turned to the person beside him in excitement:

“You’ve been in the entertainment industry?! No wonder you know so much!”

“That means there’s a one-in-four chance Sheng Quan is here for you! Damn!! Your voice is amazing, and you’re so knowledgeable—maybe she really came for you!”

Jin Jiu’s gaze lingered on a comment below, and he coldly avoided An Baixing’s enthusiasm: “It’s not me.”

“I want to be alone. Don’t look for me again.”

“How could that be? Look, your name is right here—” An Baixing didn’t understand why his attitude had turned so icy. He eagerly looked back at the screen, only for the rest of his words to die in his throat.

He saw it too—the comment underneath.

**Extreme Runner:** ["First one to rule out—Jin Jiu. He sings horribly and has terrible character. Back then, they marketed his so-called ‘angelic voice’ and ‘once-in-a-generation talent,’ but he’s just a fraud. I wouldn’t have the guts to show my face again if I were him. Can’t believe this washed-up loser is making a comeback. Just wait—his singing is unbearable. Who knows if he’ll even manage to perform on stage?"]

The long comment dripped with venomous malice toward Jin Jiu.

But An Baixing didn’t believe a word of it. He thought Jin Jiu was a decent guy—maybe a bit like a gloomy mushroom on a cloudy day, but at least he never got annoyed by his constant chatter.

To him, Jin Jiu was just quiet, but still a good person.

Even his own mom couldn’t stand his rambling, but Jin Jiu listened patiently, occasionally responding, even helping his competitors practice. How could someone like that have bad character?

An Baixing stole a glance at Jin Jiu. The man’s bangs were so long that he couldn’t even tell if his eyes were open. He whispered softly:

“Don’t take it to heart. My mom says all celebrities have haters. This is definitely just a hater.”

After a few seconds, he heard Jin Jiu murmur, “Thanks.”

“I’m not upset.”

In fact, he was used to it.

After thanking him, Jin Jiu retreated back into his shell—silent, like a mushroom hiding under its cap.

Seeing him in this “I-am-a-reclusive-mushroom” state, An Baixing didn’t dare disturb him further, though he still felt a little guilty for dragging him into reading the post.

After some thought, he switched to a burner account and began an 800-comment war with the original poster.

A makeup artist approached Jin Jiu and suggested:

“You’ve got great features, but your hair’s too long—it covers half your face. Want me to trim it?”

“No.” Jin Jiu lowered his eyes, refusing to look at his reflection. “I don’t want people seeing my face.”

The makeup artist sighed. “…Alright. Guess you’re not into makeup.”

It was just the preliminary round anyway—each contestant only got a minute. With his attitude, he probably wouldn’t advance. Might as well let him be.

Still, she couldn’t help feeling a little regretful. “You’re really good-looking. If you just cut your hair and put on a little makeup, you’d stand out…”

Jin Jiu listened in silence, but his mind echoed with the screams from his past—voices he’d heard as he fled in panic:

**“Jin Jiu! You’re disgusting!! I never want to see your face again!”**

**“Liar! You make me sick!!!”**

The makeup artist noticed Contestant No. 79 trembling slightly before he quickly lowered his head, as if his own reflection were a monster.

She thought: *Yep, this guy really hates makeup.*

***

At 8 p.m., *Singing With You* aired live.

A flood of viewers rushed in, and the station director grinned ear-to-ear at the soaring ratings.

“President Sheng’s seat is all set, right? Whatever she wants, make sure she gets it. And if she asks for company, assign whoever she picks.”

“Don’t worry, Director. Everything’s arranged. We even added extra lighting to the audience seats—when it’s voting time, we’ll turn it on…”

Why? So the audience could get a good look at Sheng Quan and boost ratings, of course.

The director beamed even wider and clapped his subordinate’s shoulder. “Good, good! Perfect. Oh, and President Sheng’s seat—it’s been changed, right?”

“Yes, yes! We moved the sofa from your office there, just as you ordered. But, Director… isn’t this a bit too obvious? Won’t the audience think we’re sucking up too hard?”

“That’s the point!” The director chuckled smugly. “Why do you think ratings are high? Because they love watching us fawn over her! Little Zheng, let me teach you something—in this business, never go against the audience.”

And the audience was indeed having a blast.

Since it was a live broadcast, viewers weren’t just watching on TV—they were also flooding the online stream with comments. Some even took to forums for real-time discussions.

**Foodie~Fool:** ["666666"]

**Chilling Breeze:** ["I’m here I’m here!"]

**Who Sent the Letter?:** ["Where’s Sheng Quan?"]

**Yomowantsacat:** ["OP! Are you here?!"]

**FishyFish:** ["FYI—the one sitting on the black sofa in the front row is Sheng Quan."]

**LittleSillyGoose:** ["How can you tell?"]

**SleepTonight:** ["LMAO, she’s the only one with a sofa. Even the judges get swivel chairs. Also, have you noticed the people around her constantly handing her snacks and drinks?"]

**CuminFTW:** ["OMG THAT’S SHENG QUAN?! MY PRESIDENT SHENG?! THE OP?! SHE’S SO PRETTY!!"]

**NotAHoeLeaf:** ["Gorgeous and loaded—what kinda dream life is this?"]

**DecadeLongNap:** ["My jaw dropped. Sheng Quan is actually this stunning? Love it."]

Sheng Quan’s looks might not stand out in the cutthroat entertainment industry, but she wasn’t a celebrity. Among civilians, she was undeniably striking.

With naturally delicate features, top-tier skincare, professional hairstyling, expert makeup, and dance lessons to polish her posture, her aura was on another level.

Most importantly, while others were nourished by fame, Sheng Quan was nourished by cold hard cash. Even she sometimes caught her reflection and marveled at her own glow-up.

Proof that avoiding overtime was the ultimate beauty hack.

After gushing over her appearance, the internet’s attention shifted elsewhere:

**Chaos in the Melon Patch:** ["6666, is that a mousse cake on her tray? And is that ice cre—"]

【Rain, and sparkling water too! Is that Ming Qi sitting next to her? And Liu Zi'an beside her? The whole place is packed with celebrities! If this isn’t Sheng Quan, I’ll stand on my head and wash my hair!!】

Potato Stew with Potatoes: 【Why is the host only introducing the show? Introduce Sheng Quan too!】

A Struggling College Student Drowning in Thesis: 【Holy crap! The audience seats are full of gorgeous guys and girls!】

Daydreamer: 【I spotted quite a few influencers too, hahahaha so this really is a selection show for the rich and famous】

Huajia: 【The cameraman keeps panning to Sheng Quan—give that guy a bonus chicken drumstick!】

Plankton Requests a Cameo: 【LMAO, three out of ten cutaways are for Sheng Quan. The production team is clearly desperate to kiss up to the big boss 23333】

Sheng Quan was thoroughly enjoying the VIP treatment from the show.

As netizens had observed, she was the only one in the venue sitting on a plush sofa—and judging by its material and comfort level, it definitely didn’t come cheap.

Strawberry TV had even assigned a dedicated staff member to cater to her every need.

The cake was soft, the sparkling water freshly made, and they’d even handed her a menu with an extensive selection, topped by *jianbing guozi* (Chinese crepes), complete with customizable add-ons.

Sheng Quan: “…”

Well… this was pretty damn nice.

Especially since Yuan Zixin had arranged for her to be flanked by stunning beauties—Liu Zi'an, a tall and handsome heartthrob, and Ming Qi, a sweet, soft-spoken angel.

Earlier, before the show started, Ming Qi had greeted her with a sugary smile that nearly made Sheng Quan’s heart skip a beat.

Ming Qi was young, spoiled by her family, and brimming with innocent charm.

But while naive, she was also obedient. Yuan Zixin had drilled into her beforehand to be extra-friendly to Sheng Quan, so she dutifully peeled peanuts and pine nuts for her—while sneaking a few for herself.

Ming Qi grew more and more enthusiastic as she peeled. Normally on a strict diet, she seized this rare chance to snack openly with gusto.

Sheng Quan, who hadn’t planned on eating anything, gradually succumbed to the chorus of:

“President Sheng, eat this!”

“President Sheng, try this one!”

“This is so good, President Sheng, you have to try it too!”

The production team, mistaking her indulgence for a love of food, magically produced an array of snacks and drinks within arm’s reach.

Sheng Quan, who was simply weak to pretty faces: “…”

No wonder they say beauty is a curse. How could anyone resist such a sweet, delicate girl cooing at them?

Luckily, the show started before she could stuff herself into a food coma—otherwise, she’d be watching the performances with a bloated stomach.

When the host introduced the first contestant, An Baixing, Sheng Quan was surprised.

Years later, An Baixing would be the only person Jin Jiu, who had long shut everyone out, allowed close.

After Jin Jiu’s death, An Baixing once expressed regret, saying he’d learned too late that he could’ve met him twenty years earlier. If only he hadn’t dropped out of the competition back then because the show ran too late, things might’ve been different.

They met too late.

Had they become friends sooner, maybe Jin Jiu wouldn’t have met such a tragic end.

The novel never specified which show An Baixing had abandoned, but seeing his name on the contestant list now, Sheng Quan realized—this must be that fabled “twenty years earlier.”

Though it made sense.

In the original story, An Baixing quit because the show ran too late. But now, *Sing for You* had been moved five hours earlier, and its sudden popularity meant he had no reason to drop out.

Seated on the director’s sleek black sofa, Sheng Quan smiled faintly.

*This time, you two should get to meet much sooner.*

An Baixing’s performance was genuinely impressive—still raw, but already showing the talent that would later make him a star. When his one-minute slot ended, he gazed hopefully at the massive voting screen.

Sheng Quan tilted her head slightly, smiling at Ming Qi to signal her to vote.

Ming Qi, who’d just finished applauding, beamed back and handed her a freshly peeled peanut.

“President Sheng, for you.”

Sheng Quan: “…”

Right—Yuan Zixin had mentioned that Ming Qi, sheltered and young, wasn’t the most socially aware.

Still, her cluelessness was oddly endearing.

Switching tactics, Sheng Quan glanced at Liu Zi'an.

Had he been under twenty, he might’ve been just as oblivious. But at twenty-eight, a seasoned industry insider, he immediately understood.

Yuan Zixin’s seating arrangement was no accident—Sheng Quan was his future boss, and he knew better than to ignore her cues.

Liu Zi'an pulled up the audience voting screen on his tablet, scanned to top up, and after a moment’s thought, cast a thousand votes for An Baixing.

Viewers at home followed suit:

Xinxizi Ning: 【Not bad at all.】

Sleepy Cat Lover: 【Better than I expected—throwing in a dollar.】

Duladucoco: 【I thought this show would be a circus, but the first contestant’s actually solid.】

Vinegar-Fried Potato Shreds: 【Even though he’s up first, I’ll bet he makes it to the semifinals.】

Scarlet Moon: 【Zi'an voted for him! I’ll match it! Doing my part for charity!】

Bless Me, I’m Taking the Civil Service Exam: 【Did anyone else see the pretty girl next to President Sheng feeding her peanuts? Ugh, I want a beauty hand-feeding me too.】

Little Ming Pig: 【That’s Ming Qi—she’s an idol, of course she’s gorgeous!】

A Purple Fan Turned OT9: 【My Qiqi! No one can resist her, not even President Sheng!】

Solitary Gift: 【Hey, is that an unlit light stick next to President Sheng? Is it hers?】

Amid the chatter, eagle-eyed netizens spotted the light stick beside Sheng Quan.

The discovery sent the already-hyped crowd into overdrive.

Sending You a Flower: 【LIGHT STICK!!! She’s definitely here for someone specific!!!】

No More Overtime: 【Could it belong to someone near her?】

Pale Blue Bamboo: 【No way. Everyone around her is a celebrity—even if they liked a contestant, they’d never openly wave a light stick.】

Peach Blossom Ahhh: 【Called it!!! That OP was right!!! Sheng Quan came for a contestant!!】

Train Station Midnight Dash: 【OMG REALLY?! WHO’S THE LUCKY ONE?! I’M ALL IN!!!】

Oreolio: 【Sheng Quan’s got an eye for talent—she plucked Yan Hui from a *jianbing* stall, and that leaked filming clip? Dude’s got *presence*.】

Adorable Little A-Mo: 【So who is it?! I’m dying to know!!】

Chocolate Fox: 【Scratching head, screaming wildly, squealing uncontrollably—Aaaah, my gossip-hungry heart can't hold back anymore! Whoever can make President Sheng bring a light sign must be extraordinary!!】

With this clue, netizens began noticing more hints.

Lucky Draw Winner (Lost 10 lbs): 【Did you notice? Sheng Quan never votes, but every time a skilled contestant finishes singing, she glances at Liu Zi'an, and then Liu Zi'an casts his vote.】

Eats Three Kids in One Bite: 【Liu Zi'an: Just a celebrity voting bot.】

Raising the Flag for Mumu: 【Is this the aura of a big shot? So aloof, I love it!】

Faint Flute Melodies: 【As expected of Sheng Quan—even celebrities are just her voting tools!】

Babala: 【Honestly, she’s just a solo stan. Why would a solo stan vote for anyone else?】

Umbrella in the Rain: 【I bet fifty cents that light sign is definitely hers.】

Between watching the performances, voting, and passionately debating whether the light sign belonged to Sheng Quan, everyone was practically multitasking like mad.

On Weibo, hashtags kept trending—some bought by the show, others purely fueled by curious netizens.

#Singing With You Premieres#

#How Much Is Sheng Quan’s Sofa?#

#How Many Times Did Ming Qi Offer Sheng Quan Peanuts?#

#Sheng Quan’s Light Sign#

#Who’s the Light Sign For?#

After An Baixing finished singing, he returned backstage and sidled up to Jin Jiu again. Though they hadn’t known each other long, he’d already decided they were fated to be friends.

Excited and nervous, he chattered away: “I got 3,000 votes—that should be enough to pass. Your voice is amazing, and you’re so professional. You’ll definitely make it too.”

Jin Jiu stayed silent, so An Baixing kept rambling: "Did you see the trending search? Sheng Quan really came for a specific contestant—she brought a light sign."

“But we’re already past contestant No. 30, and she still hasn’t raised it. Maybe it’s for someone later.”

Many shared An Baixing’s guess, speculating one after another. But even after contestant No. 70, Sheng Quan remained unmoved.

I Am the Cutest: 【What if it’s not even a light sign?】

Octopus Who Loves Clocking Out: 【No way!! I’ve been in fandom for years—that’s 100% a light sign! And an expensive one too!】

Little Lamb’s Giggle: 【See pics 【Pic1】【Pic2】—it’s exactly the same kind of light sign.】

Wang Fenjin & Zhang Baibai: 【Only five contestants left—could it be one of them?】

Plum Creek Lord: 【76 now!】

I’m a Sweet Potato: 【77!】

Silent Snowfall: 【78’s done, just two left!】

Longing for Home: 【SHE MOVED! SHENG QUAN MOVED!!! AAAAAH I KNEW IT WAS A LIGHT SIGN!!!!】

It was Jin Jiu’s turn.

He waited in the dim passageway, eyes hollow and lifeless.

The world—both online and off—was buzzing with excitement, but none of it touched him.

The only difference this time was that far more people would witness his weakness.

When the host called his number, he stepped forward without hesitation, his mind numb.

Jin Jiu stood on stage, palms slick with cold sweat, his mind involuntarily replaying his last concert—when the audience plunged into darkness after his final note, a silent black sea.

That moment had haunted him for seven years, leaving him voiceless on stage ever since.

His back drenched in sweat, Jin Jiu forced himself to lift his gaze, face pale.

And then—he froze.

There, in the audience, the girl seated on the black sofa smiled and raised her light sign high.

【JIN JIU, YOU GOT THIS!!!】

The spotlight illuminated her, making her glow like a radiant deity.

Time seemed to slow.

Before he even realized it, tears welled in Jin Jiu’s eyes. Dazed, he thought—how could someone shine so brightly?

So brightly, it made him want to cry.

—Backstage—

The director was ecstatic:

“Yes! MORE LIGHT!! MORE!!! Hit her with all the spotlights!! Make sure EVERYONE sees President Sheng holding that sign!!”

“Genius! Whoever came up with adding lighting effects to the audience seats is a genius!! Yes, just like that—flashy and dazzling!! Make President Sheng the center of attention!!!”

“HAHAHAHAHA our ratings—WE’RE SAVED!!”