Knock knock!
The sound of a WeChat notification rang out.
Opening it, Lan Yening saw that Zhaozhao, heavily made up and filtered to perfection, had sent him a photo.
The "Dreamland Paradise" Lan Yening was instantly startled.
Zhaozhao was wearing a high-end custom dress from the cross-dressing collection.
This dress costs over 30,000, sothing Zhaozhao had always dread of buying. It hadn’t been long since they last t, and now Zhaozhao was wearing it.
"Zhaozhao, are you trying on clothes?"
"Hehe! Custom-made clothing isn’t sothing you just try on."
Looking at the photo of Zhaozhao putting on airs of elegance and refinent, Lan Yening felt a vague unease in his heart.
This dress was expensive and clearly beyond Zhaozhao’s ans.
"Zhaozhao, did you win the lottery or sothing?"
Not wanting to hurt his friend’s feelings, Lan Yening made a playful remark, trying to sound tactful.
"Haha! Ningning, isn’t this dress gorgeous? Do I look like a fairy descending to earth?"
This ti, Zhaozhao sent a voice ssage filled with smugness but didn’t directly answer Lan Yening’s question.
"It’s truly beautiful!"
"Actually, my friend gave it to ." Zhaozhao suddenly said.
"Your friend?"
"Yes, he said I have potential and wants to sponsor to beco an influencer."
Hearing this, Lan Yening’s heart sank further, though he didn’t say anything.
He was truly afraid of saying sothing wrong and hurting this friend’s feelings.
"...Then, congrats to you, Zhaozhao!"
"Ningning, you know, once you let go of so things in life, you can get what you’ve always wanted. It’s that simple... I’ve got sothing to do, let’s chat another ti."
Lan Yening stared at his phone as the voice ssage ended, his heart weighed down with unease.
He didn’t want to think poorly of his friend, but so things were just too hard not to ponder.
"What’s Yuwei doing? She should be resting late at night like this, right?"
Unable to sleep, Lan Yening got up and turned on his computer.
The hum of the computer’s tower didn’t bother him as he put on his headset.
He clicked on the Galaxy Girl Group videos on Bilibili.
"Ye Yuwei, it really is you."
Lan Yening felt a mix of excitent and anxiety as he stared at the girl in a puff-sleeved dress on screen.
On stage, Ye Yuwei seed like a completely different person—normally poised and graceful, she transford into an energetic, lively goddess.
Lan Yening was captivated, unable to believe how his idol could be such a "two-faced doll."
"No matter how passionately she dances, she’s still just a glorified foot washer."
"The current batch of little idols have no respect for their seniors, especially Ye Yuwei."
"I can’t believe Ye Yuwei is participating in a public performance—seeing her ugly face makes want to puke."
Suddenly, as he scrolled through the latest public performance video, ten malicious comnts targeting Ye Yuwei floated across the screen, crude and intolerable.
Lan Yening froze, clueless why these people were attacking Ye Yuwei.
"Yuwei’s performance on stage is so good! How could she provoke these people?"
Out of nowhere, Lan Yening felt a strong urge to argue with these comnters.
But he also knew the comnts were days old, and it’d be pointless to debate them now.
Suppressing his anger, Lan Yening opened Ye Yuwei’s Weibo.
"Ye Yuwei is still up. She’s practicing her dance."
Looking at the tistamp of her latest video, posted just ten minutes ago, Lan Yening was surprised.
Even more shocking—there were dozens of comnts under the video.
"Wow! She actually has fans." Lan Yening felt a swirl of mixed emotions, reading through the comnts.
Suddenly, Ye Yuwei’s image in his heart shifted. She was always unattainable before, but now she felt even more distant, like she existed only in the clouds.
"What if people found out Ye Yuwei and I work together? How would they react?"
This strange thought popped into Lan Yening’s mind unexpectedly.
He opened the comnt box, his trembling fingers typing a supportive ssage.
As he prepared to hit Enter and send it, his shaky hand abruptly paused.
"With so few comnts, Yuwei might actually read through each one. My Weibo is full of my personal photos—what if she thinks I’m spying on her?"
"I can’t let her think of like that. I’ll just silently support her from the shadows."
Lan Yening felt deeply conflicted at that mont, torn between wanting Ye Yuwei to notice him and wanting her to remain unaware.
He started browsing the comnt thread.
"The annual general election is coming up—wonder how many top spots our ’Cross Bunny’ can claim."
"Bro, wrong place! This is Yuwei’s territory."
"I’m a group fan—can’t I visit?"
"Haha, what’s a group fan? Soone who wants freebies but won’t vote for individual idols."
Lan Yening found the exchange between the two comnters amusing.
He didn’t understand why group fans wouldn’t vote for Ye Yuwei—if they didn’t support her, why bother encouraging her on Weibo?
"Group fan bro, don’t mind the solo stans. We love Ye Yuwei, but we also love ’Cross Bunny.’"
"Stop playing both sides—you know, out of the 137 girls in the center, I only love Ye Yuwei. If you truly love Yezi, stop being a group fan."
"G, you extre solo stan! Last year, I spent over 13,000 voting for Yezi. You scream so much, but how much did you vote? A few cents?"
Lan Yening was stunned by the figure—he couldn’t imagine soone spending over 13,000 on a stranger.
"No wonder Zhaozhao says he can’t afford to support Ye Yuwei. Compared to them, I’m just a poor nobody!" Lan Yening’s beautiful face, even envied by so girls, was full of bitterness.
Though he once dread of pure love, life’s harsh realities taught him otherwise.
Without money, even the brightest bubbles would burst under sunlight.
Lan Yening continued silently watching Ye Yuwei.
anwhile, Ye Yuwei was practicing tirelessly in the dance studio, joined by fifteen other mbers from the headquarters.
Since this was a major TV network performance, the boss himself ca to encourage them and generously sent three assistants to support them.
During rehearsal breaks, the caraman recorded behind-the-scenes footage for the girls.
Ye Yuwei secretly logged into another pocket account with her alt handle, then checked each top contender’s page.
Unsurprisingly, each page was flooded with praise—comnts hyping the group reached dizzying levels of flattery.
It seed every mber was a major celebrity, with so fans even claiming Shenghai TV chose them for their influence and popularity.
Shenghai TV’s ratings had been struggling for years, crushed beneath Tomato and Bluebird. This performance was their attempt at a coback, so they invited the group.
Ye Yuwei found such praise laughable. She knew exactly how many loyal fans her group had.
Totaling it all, the group’s fans amounted to no more than forty thousand.
Probably fewer than what a B-list celebrity could attract.
Considering the ridiculously high ratings of past Shenghai TV’s New Year specials, it was absurd to think their small-ti group could make a difference.
Most likely, the network just wanted to diversify its program by inviting them.
Of course, she would never say this aloud—if she did, she’d likely be kicked out of the group in a storm of backlash.
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