Center Rehearsal Room
Jiaqi and many other girls had already arrived here.
The living center was affectionately referred to by Galaxy Girl Group fans as the "Breeding Ground for Venom Wars."
The nickna was really quite fitting.
The cultivation of a venom queen is essentially a process where venomous creatures kill each other to vie for the crown.
It was the sa here, except that people's thoughts were more complex, and their ans more varied.
But no matter what, as long as you don't leave this circle, you can't escape the fate of being one of those venomous creatures.
Rehearsals began, with so staff recording the process to prepare footage for behind-the-scenes clips.
Those like Jiaqi, less significant mbers, could only stand at the door, envying the core mbers playing out their "reality show."
In truth, the team was far from harmonious. Ma Xiaoyu and Su Yiran, who often bickered and pulled each other's hair, were now exchanging soulful gazes—one sitting and one standing.
Ma Xiaoyu's round, glistening eyes brimd with grievance, as if saying, "Mommy, your baby is so tired!"
Su Yiran stretched out her hand, gently brushing Ma Xiaoyu's hair, as if replying, "Xiao Yuu, Mommy knows you're tired. My heart aches for you!"
"Yiran, baby wants a hug!" Ma Xiaoyu tilted her head and pouted her cherry-red lips.
Her voice was exceptionally enchanting—soft, with a syrupy charm that tingled through anyone who heard it.
Before becoming an idol, she often used this innate talent to flirt with n online.
The two slowly embraced, creating an undeniably "romantic" scene of "sisterly love."
However, as soon as the director yelled "Cut," they imdiately separated, their faces filled with disdain.
Subsequently, other mbers fild similar videos.
Those waiting outside were occasionally called in to serve as re background extras.
One minor mber, who misplaced herself and blocked the cara, was scolded outright by the on-site director. She promptly offered panicked apologies.
After all the chaos, the serious choreography practice finally began.
Jiaqi was assigned a portion where she simply perford an eight-count high-energy dance segnt with the others.
Her position was at the far left of the stage.
Although it wasn't a prominent spot, Jiaqi still worked extrely hard to showcase herself, beaming brightly.
She sang and danced with the rhythm, imagining that the figures in the mirror before her were her audience.
All of them were there just for her.
The "Gatherers" held up their light boards, their chants of her na as thunderous as tidal waves, fervently cheering for her like devout followers.
"Jiaqi-chan, Jiaqi-chan..."
Jiaqi's passion burned, her blood boiled, and every ounce of her soul trembled uncontrollably.
But it was all just an illusion—a flower in the mirror, a reflection on the water.
When the song ended, her world suddenly ca to a halt.
She slumped into a corner, appearing like a dying catfish.
She couldn't sit on the rehearsal room's center floor because that was the domain of the core mbers.
They could sit or even sprawl there as they pleased.
This was reality. Perhaps at ho, you were cherished, but here, until you made it, you were just a blade of grass nobody cared about.
"Jiaqi, how's Yuwei doing? I haven't visited her since her return," Yu Manting, whose smile revealed dimples, sat beside her.
Yu Manting was stunning. With her background in modern dance, she had long limbs and fair skin.
"She's okay," Jiaqi replied blandly.
She was highly wary of Yu Manting.
Initially, the company had paired Ye Yuwei into a comrcial "CP" with Manting.
But back then, Yu Manting had to focus on her studies, so Jiaqi and Ye Yuwei grew closer.
And in this industry, shipping "CPs" was the ultimate formula for attracting fans.
Yu Manting didn't seem to mind Jiaqi's cold attitude. She continued smiling and said, "Jiaqi, I want to go see Yuwei this evening. Would I be intruding on you?"
"Go ahead," Li Jiaqi responded with thinly veiled annoyance.
Yu Manting smiled again, said no more, and stood up to leave.
"Hmph! Don't think I don't know what you're planning. Now that Yuwei is gaining more fans, you want to swoop in, leech off her popularity, and reap the benefits? Over my dead body!" Li Jiaqi fud internally.
Dormitory
An upset Ye Yuwei was pouting as she repeatedly tied a red ribbon around a chubby and sweet-looking teddy bear.
It was a birthday gift from Jiaqi, a symbol of their friendship.
In her eyes, this little bear was Li Jiaqi.
But with Jiaqi absent, how she wished she could tie the other girl to her side forever.
Beep! Beep!
The computer in front of Ye Yuwei started flashing with snippets of comnts.
"Ye Yuwei, why the frown? Are you still unwell?
Wifey, why weren't you in today's performance rehearsal vid?
Darling, what are you up to? Heard you've been sick."
......
This was the company's fan-interaction app, "Pocket," akin to TikTok.
These minor idols had to regularly chatter on this platform, allowing their fans to know what they were up to anyti, anywhere.
For fans, this app fulfilled countless fantasies.
But often, it beca a "purgatory of tornt" for the idols.
So trolls would hurl unbearable, vicious comnts.
It wasn't uncommon for an idol to break down emotionally while chatting.
Just like now:
"Ye Yuwei, hasn't anyone told you how cute you are right now? Like so old lady in confinent.
How do you have no self-respect? Can't you just die? Heard you went to the hospital for an abortion.
You're a murderer, you killed that poor baby—then again, you probably don't even know who the father is.
Look at your ugly face. Even gorillas would freak out. And you still dream of being famous?"
...
Reading these hateful words, Ye Yuwei's face beca even paler.
She knew full well which fanbase was attacking her and why.
Every word stabbed her heart like a sharp blade.
She had no defense—not as a small-ti nobody.
Though her few dozen fans tried to retaliate, their strength was far too ager, quickly drowned among "hundreds of floors" of hate comnts.
If she herself lashed out in anger, she'd simply be falling into their trap.
She knew they were screen-capturing every reaction.
"I must endure this. Endure it. I can't afford to lose like this..." Ye Yuwei continually reminded herself.
"Due to intense recent rehearsals,
my health has indeed been affected.
But I will work hard to recover and get better.
I won't lose my composure, nor will I speak words of despair.
I just want to be my true self.
Thank you all for your concern—whether you love or hate , thank you."
Ye Yuwei's response seed to ignite a powder keg.
Especially the final line, which was interpreted by trolls as a declaration of war, prompting hundreds more malicious comnts to flood in.
Yet, she didn't block a single hater.
She focused on earnestly engaging with her small, loyal group of fans.
This was the only form of counterattack within her reach.
She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of breaking her down.
As ti ran out and she closed the app,
the ever-smiling Ye Yuwei could no longer hold it in.
Pulling the blanket over her head, she bit the edge of her pillowcase and sobbed quietly.
She dared not cry too loudly, not wanting anyone to hear her weakness or make her a laughing stock.
By the ti Jiaqi ca back from her classes, Ye Yuwei had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Her pale, delicate face was streaked with dried tears.
Her ssy hair made the 18-year-old girl look so worn out and pitiful—
like a stray cat battered by countless storms outside.
"Yuwei, I'll protect you. No one who hurts you will get away with it," Jiaqi silently vowed as she gently tucked the blanket around the sleeping girl.
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