Chapter 18: The Age of Letting Things Go

At the scene, the four regular judges were already in place. Among the guest judges, aside from Bai Ling, the other two had also arrived.

Bai Ling’s gaze was instantly drawn to Lin Yubai.

He was an incredibly handsome young man, about her age—close to thirty, but looking barely over twenty. It was clear he took good care of himself. For the show, he’d styled his hair into a sharp, fashionable look, and his features were as chiseled as if sculpted by a master’s hand—truly striking.

Seeing him, Bai Ling couldn’t help but think to herself, “This guy’s looks aren’t bad. Before I transmigrated, I was called the most handsome—I suppose he could be second.”

After this brief, private jest, Bai Ling walked to a seat a little farther from Lin Yubai. Next to her sat the third guest judge—Shen Wenjun.

She was a singer, a few years older, just past thirty. As for her looks, they were slightly above average. But as a vocalist of real talent, she didn’t need to rely on appearance. From the setup, Bai Ling now understood the criteria for selecting guest judges: an actor, a singer, and a girl group idol skilled in singing and dancing. A perfect fit for the show’s theme.

The four regular judges were all relatively well-known in the industry. Bai Ling glanced around; some faces were familiar.

Liang Zhen, male, in his forties—an established actor. Even after Lin Yubai won Best Actor, he still had to show Liang Zhen proper respect. Liang Zhen joined the show purely for the fun of it.

Then there was Leng Yan, a seasoned male singer of indeterminate age, shrouded in mystery. His fans affectionately called him “Young Master Leng.” Remembering that nickname, Bai Ling nearly laughed aloud—how delightfully unconventional! Apparently, Leng Yan himself disliked the moniker, so Bai Ling had no intention of mentioning it and risking his ire.

The remaining two regular judges were women. Their names: Wu Shanyue and Wen Huaiyu. Neither was particularly famous, but interestingly, one was a soprano in the national choir, while the other was a drama artist. Both enjoyed state stipends for their achievements—truly impressive talents.

“A pity,” Bai Ling mused, “in this age, the internet rules everything. Much of the old artistry is no longer popular. No wonder these two seniors have such skill but not much fame.”

Still, Bai Ling had to admit, the show’s ability to invite such heavyweights was no small feat.

Bai Ling now began to doubt Ge Fenfen’s assessment of this variety show. While Bai Ling was sizing up the others, the four judges, Lin Yubai, and Shen Wenjun were likewise assessing her. After all, while the entertainment industry had no shortage of handsome men and beautiful women, few could match Bai Ling’s dazzling presence.

They had little chance for small talk, though—the chief director below signaled the start of filming. Otherwise, they would have surely exchanged a few words with Bai Ling, or at the very least, complimented her appearance.

“Welcome, everyone, to the set of ‘Girl Group Assembly!’ This program is sponsored by...” The smiling host took the stage, rattling off the sponsors as smoothly as a nursery rhyme, then began introducing the judges.

The main camera switched angles, giving each judge their moment. While the filming seemed fair, in the editing room, whose screen time was cut or expanded would be determined by their celebrity status.

Bai Ling didn’t care. She maintained a polite, practiced smile for the next few hours.

Once the judges were introduced, all the contestants took the stage in turn. Since this wasn’t the first episode, there were fewer introductions and more commentary on the previous show.

It was only now that Bai Ling realized a problem—she hadn’t watched any previous episodes and knew nothing about the contestants. When her microphone was switched on and she was asked to comment on one group’s performance from the last episode, she could only smile and say, “Very good. The future holds great promise.”

Compared to the other judges’ more professional critiques, Bai Ling’s words sounded amateurish. Even Lin Yubai, an actor, could give a coherent analysis—and yet Bai Ling, who came from a girl group, could only manage a vague “very good”?

Worse, the group Bai Ling commented on had placed last in the previous episode.

Below the stage, Miaomiao could only hold her forehead in dismay. “It’s over. I forgot to ask if she’d watched the show.”

Beside her, Xiangzi looked equally worried. “Just wait for your salary to get docked.”

Fortunately, the host quickly eased the awkwardness, guiding the show forward with a few light words. Bai Ling could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Next came the contestants’ performances for this episode. With her microphone off, Shen Wenjun leaned over to comfort her. “Don’t worry—it’s nothing.”

“You haven’t served as a judge on a show like this before, have you?” Bai Ling nodded with a smile. “Thank you.” She didn’t know Shen Wenjun well, but from this, at least, she seemed nice. Bai Ling quietly tagged her as such in her mind.

Since they weren’t familiar, the conversation ended there.

On stage, a VCR began to play—scenes of all the girl group members training hard after the last episode, interspersed with interviews. Success or failure, it was all edited into segments for the show.

Bai Ling doubted the authenticity of the footage. Having come from a girl group herself, she knew the reality. Except for a few without connections, almost no one worked as hard as depicted in the VCRs. These were just for image-building, to win favor and lay the groundwork for debut.

After the VCR, the contestants performed. Bai Ling had been somewhat hopeful—if the show could invite so many top judges, surely it wouldn’t be low-quality.

But as soon as the performances began, Bai Ling was stunned.

What on earth was this?

The dancing was awkward and suggestive, filled with veiled sexual innuendo, a blatant imitation of K-pop styles. Bai Ling understood that copying could be an easy shortcut, but—if it wasn’t executed well, it was simply unbearable.

Even with the soul of a grown man inside her, Bai Ling found nothing to admire.

As for the singing—Bai Ling was left speechless.

“I thought the group my original self was in was the worst in the industry, but now I see it was just a microcosm.”

“No wonder she had no talent for singing or acting and still made it into a girl group.”

“In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king, isn’t he?”