Villa
Zhang Zijing was helping Yuwei blow-dry her hair.
She was very focused, her cool eyes as clear as mountain springs fixed on the flowing locks.
As if the hair was the most important thing in the world.
Yuwei was thoroughly enjoying herself, feeling exceptionally comfortable as Zijing’s fingers swept back and forth through her strands.
Through the mirror, Zhang Zijing looked stunning, bathed in a layer of divine sunlight streaming through the window.
She particularly liked how Zijing looked in the morning—natural, relaxed, beautiful, like a fairy untouched by the mortal world.
"This dressing table is such a wonderful place," Yuwei chuckled.
"It sure is, and it even has a big mirror," Zijing replied with a light laugh while smoothing out a rebellious strand of hair.
"It’s about ti; we need to hurry to our schedule."
"I wonder what today’s plans are, that the whole group is needed."
"Must be sothing big."
"Could it be a concert?"
Zijing’s heart began pounding after she uttered the word. A concert was what they all dread about.
"Haha, just speculation! We’ve only debuted for such a short ti!"
Yuwei didn’t believe they would be hosting one so soon.
A concert is no laughing matter—it could be the very thing that determines their destiny.
If the concert flopped, it would be a stark, undeniable proof of their lack of comrcial value.
Just like so fleetingly popular celebrities—investors cast them in movies, expecting their fans to buy tickets...
And the movies ended up losing money like crazy.
Many stars appear successful, but it’s often all artificially hyped numbers.
Sure, they have fans.
But those fans only leave likes or comnts online, with no real purchasing power.
The true asure of a singer or actor’s fa boils down to concerts and box office sales.
Don’t be fooled by their current glowing success; if their concert fails, their comrcial value would instantly plumt.
As it turned out...
When they arrived at Big Ship Company, the announcent was for a major variety show.
This decision was unexpected for everyone and simultaneously brought an underlying sense of disappointnt.
Though Yuwei had said it wouldn’t likely be a concert, she couldn’t help but desperately hope for one deep down.
Zhou Dan was in high spirits today: "This program is for people to witness our group spirit—it’s basically team-building."
Zhou Dan’s words made everyone laugh, though doubts lingered about how such a program could actually make money.
"This show won’t be fild dostically; we’re going abroad."
Seeing everyone quiet down and adopting listening expressions, Zhou Dan felt secretly proud.
"This ti, we will cross snow-capped mountains, traverse deserts, and visit Bolan and the Sahara."
Everyone was stunned upon hearing this.
"Mr. Zhou, are you sure you didn’t an mountain climbing and grassland trekking?"
"Mr. Zhou, why would we go abroad just to hike snowy mountains?"
"Sahara—this is too much!"
"Are you selling us off overseas or sothing?"
"Have we leveled up to beco an international girl group now?"
The eleven mbers fired off remarks one after another—the eting room transford into a marketplace.
The girls’ imaginations ran wild.
"Fangxin, if we run out of water in the Sahara, we’ll trade you for so."
"Trade ? At least for a few cals!"
"Right, cals! Let’s roast cals in the desert!"
"Rainbow, you’ll roast anything! I suspect you’d roast even us."
"Then let’s roast Qiqi—she’s the smallest and easiest to plate."
Haha! Hahaha!
"Why don’t we don straw hats and silk cloaks, holding banana leaves?"
"The Desert Wanderer style!"
"Or we could strap on huge blades, like Snow Mountain Fox."
"No, we should imitate Eskimos—dig a snow pit and live in it."
The group grew increasingly enthused, their chatter nearly unstoppable.
Mr. Zhou was sowhat helpless, yet deeply envious of these vibrant young girls.
Only flowers of youth like them could display such boundless energy.
Zhou Dan raised her hand to quiet everyone down.
She needed to clarify the true purpose of this variety show.
"Everyone, settle down. This variety show is actually preparation for your concert."
The room fell into complete silence.
Wow!
The eleven mbers could no longer contain their joy; they nearly leapt out of their chairs.
It’s really happening—a concert! Oh my god!
Yuwei threw her arms around Zijing in excitent; she never imagined Big Ship Company would genuinely give them a concert.
"Your concert will be on the scale of over ten thousand attendees—not just small-scale shows of two or three thousand," Zhou Dan explained with a smile.
Her words sent chills down everyone’s spine. A concert with over ten thousand attendees—a level only top-tier singers could achieve.
"Will it be at the Bird’s Nest?"
As captain, Yuwei ekly asked, her teammates showing similarly apprehensive expressions.
"No, the risk is too high. We’ve planned three shows at indoor stadiums," Zhou Dan replied casually."
"That’s still great; we couldn’t possibly fill the Bird’s Nest anyway." Yuwei admitted, aware of their limitations.
"A concert, a show of ten thousand people—am I dreaming?" Fu Xiaoyu queried, pinching herself.
"It’s nerve-wracking! I feel like our peak mont was during that final competition," Duan Yuxin murmured worriedly.
"The more you talk, the less confident I feel—I’m terrified," Lai Ruoxuan admitted, dry-mouthed as she sat there.
Although all of them had longed for this concert to happen, its arrival brought imnse pressure.
"What’s there to be nervous about? We’ll just go up there and sing and dance!" Fangxin cheered them on.
Yuwei glanced at Fangxin, her look suggesting she thought Fangxin might be a bit naïve.
Of all eleven mbers, Yuwei was the one who understood concerts the best.
Because Galaxy’s annual General Election was essentially a large-scale concert in disguise.
But it was fueled by the collective fan power of over 300 idols within Galaxy.
Even then, during Galaxy’s peak, they had never held a standalone concert outside the General Election format.
Each year, Galaxy’s General Election drew only about ten thousand attendees.
This highlighted just how challenging a concert could be.
Yuwei, though barely visible on the sidelines back then, had witnessed firsthand the dense ocean of heads below the stage.
She had heard the thunderous cheers, an exhilarating experience beyond words.
Now, after just about a year since debuting, their group was planning a concert for over ten thousand people—a genuine miracle.
Across the entire Chinese music industry’s new generation of artists, only a handful could pull this off.
"This ti, we’ve planned three shows. If the response is great, we’ll add four more," Zhou Dan declared, rendering the already elated room speechless.
Hosting three consecutive shows couldn’t rely rely on milking fans for money.
They needed real talent capable of attracting audiences.
These concerts would have profound implications for their future endeavors.
Yuwei understood that, throughout all of Asia, the only girl group to have ever held a concert of over ten thousand attendees in Huaxia...
Was the "Crown Girl Group" at the peak of the Korean Wave—and they only did one.
This ti, their group was aiming for three shows. If successful, they’d undeniably beco "Huaxia’s Number One Girl Group."
With these achievents, even if the group disbanded later, their mbers could thrive across the industry.
Even if they struggled in the future, they could always reunite during nostalgic monts a few years down the line and make money together.
Simply put, this opportunity was their taphorical "golden rice bowl."
Of course, it also stemd from the unique nature of originating from Huaxia’s first phenonon-level girl group talent show.
Surpassing them would be next to impossible for future competitors.
"The reason we’re emphasizing group spirit for this large-scale variety show is to attract more fans for the concert," Zhou Dan explained.
"We’re hosting it under ’Natural Girl,’ so whether it’s casual viewers or die-hard fans, they’ll co to see the whole group perform."
"Only by nurturing our group spirit and building the Natural Girl brand can we garner more attention."
In truth, Zhou Dan hadn’t fully laid out her thoughts.
Within the group, Lv Fangxin was the most famous, with a level of active fans overwhelming the rest.
But Fangxin was a "double flop" in singing and dancing—aside from die-hard fans, few would spend money to watch her sing or dance in person.
Similarly to those top-tier celebrities whose fans don’t pay to see their movies.
However, positioning Fangxin within a large group would draw her fans back.
While they might claim to co for Fangxin, they also knew the group’s performance wouldn’t disappoint—they could still enjoy the show.
It’s an intricate psychological trick.
This is why Penguin emphasized "group spirit"—it was ultimately about coaxing fans into spending.
If the concert surprised them by attracting casual listeners among the public, it would be the cherry on top.
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