Chapter 103: All Acquaintances, White Spirit Fell Apart!

C rank, B rank, A rank!

At last, when the host announced the A rank, Bai Ling’s name was finally mentioned. She was immediately overwhelmed with excitement, and strode straight toward the passageway. Although her calves were starting to cramp, Bai Ling managed to finish the walk with composure. She thought perhaps she should consider taking up fitness seriously; while the original Bai Ling had left her with a healthy body, after a month or so without exercise, her frame felt as if it might fall apart. Right now, she probably had no right to mock Zhuge Ming anymore.

When she reached the center of the stage, Bai Ling took in the scene for the first time. The venue was neither large nor small. Less than ten meters ahead sat the four judges. Upon seeing Zhuge Tianguang, Bai Ling was almost certain this middle-aged director must be related to Zhuge Ming—they looked so alike.

Behind the judges was a series of rows of seats, ascending from front to back, with some distance between them and the judges’ table. The seats at the front were already filled according to the C and B rankings, totaling over twenty people. On the second-to-last row, reserved for A rank actors, a few were already seated. Bai Ling’s place was among them.

The host was about to interview Bai Ling, curious what she might say. Instead, Bai Ling didn’t wait for him to speak, but simply bowed slightly and greeted, “Good day to the four directors,” then walked directly to her seat. She had no desire to ramble; she just wanted to sit down as soon as possible.

Unexpectedly, her straightforward behavior became a breath of fresh air to the audience.

“I thought Bai Ling would come up and babble like everyone else,” someone commented.

“Haha, too bad you can’t skip the livestream—if you could, I wouldn’t listen to a single word of those previous people’s nonsense,” another chimed in.

“The show just started and they’re already chatting about their recent experiences. Who cares? Get to the main point!”

“That’s right! Unless you’re a fan, you wouldn’t be interested at all.”

“No, no, even as a fan, you’re not here for chit-chat. They already share their lives on social media.”

“Now that you mention it, Bai Ling doesn’t really share her personal life online. She only posts when there’s something important, usually just her schedule.”

“Hey, you’re right! Bai Ling really does seem like that—she has no desire to share.”

“Still, I’d suggest she share a bit more—I’d love to see it, haha…”

“These actors appear to be sharing, or just rambling, but really they’re trying to build rapport with the directors.”

“Wow, you nailed it!”

“You think this is early canvassing for votes from the directors?”

“Will Bai Ling lose out by acting like this?”

“I’d actually suggest Bai Ling chat more—maybe one of these directors will choose her for their next project?”

…

The show’s chief director watched the barrage of comments and was speechless. Originally, he thought letting each actor express themselves would be a good idea. Unexpectedly, Bai Ling’s approach had a surprising effect: the viewers who were drifting away actually stayed a bit longer. So, through the headset, they instructed the host not to let the next few actors ramble so much on stage.

Bai Ling had just settled in her seat when she heard, “Let’s welcome the next actor, Wen Yan!”

Bai Ling lifted her eyelids. What? Wen Yan? Her again? This woman was truly persistent!

Suddenly, her gaze returned to the four judges. She recognized something familiar—wasn’t the fourth judge, Wang Dagang, the director of “A Bright Future”? No wonder Wen Yan was invited to the show. But the ranking seemed off.

In truth, Bai Ling felt her own A rank was already somewhat justified. She only had one work to her name, and it was just a web drama that had gained some small popularity. Many in the audience had been active for years, with several works, but had faded from the limelight, so their ranking was lower than Bai Ling’s. Those with little fame or few works—and only average ability—naturally received C and B ranks.

But Wen Yan… she was even more outrageous. Like Bai Ling, she had only a single work, with nothing outstanding displayed to the public. After all, “A Bright Future” hadn’t even finished filming, let alone aired. How could she possibly receive an A rank?

From a market perspective, it was even more interesting. Wen Yan’s performance in “New Year at My Home” was quite poor—because of Bai Ling, she was significantly affected. How could she be ranked A?

Bai Ling immediately understood: even with major investments, there were always hidden rules. Still, Bai Ling pretended not to care. After all, the show was being recorded and broadcast live.

Wen Yan also found it frustrating—not because she was on the same variety show as Bai Ling; she already knew Bai Ling would participate and wanted to prove herself, show she was no less than Bai Ling. After so much training on set, she was confident in her acting skills. What annoyed her was that when she walked on stage, the host gave her almost no chance to speak, ushering her to her seat after barely two sentences. This was her opportunity to showcase herself, wasted in a blink—such a pity! But she was just an actor; no matter her grievances, she had no power to change things.

Soon, all A rank actors were seated, leaving only the S ranks. There were just four S rank actors. Bai Ling didn’t recognize the other three, but from the original Bai Ling’s memories, she knew they were leads from hit dramas in recent years: one man, two women, each with impressive credentials and reputations.

The fourth was Lin Yubai—the youngest Best Actor, and also the male lead of “A Bright Future.”

“Well then, Wang Dagang has brought both leads from his drama onto this show.”

“Is this some kind of pre-release hype?”

Bai Ling could roughly guess his intentions. There are no coincidences in this business. Now, Bai Ling realized the appearance fee was not easy to earn.

After all the actors and guests had been introduced, the variety show officially began.

(End of chapter)