The Paved Road

Wu Daxu had no idea why the higher-ups were doing this.

But he was only responsible for making arrangements.

He assigned tasks to the people under him.

The key was that the other party must not find out.

Perhaps some big shot was doing this to win over a girl.

Or maybe it was something else—either way, it didn’t matter.

He knew it had nothing to do with the girl’s family because the registration forms contained all the relevant details.

So, the next step was to ensure she progressed successfully.

He had watched the footage. This girl was indeed good at dancing, and her appearance and figure were decent.

She wasn’t top-tier, but good enough to get through.

There was no need for special treatment during the process; as long as the outcome was right, that was enough.

Thus, during the show’s recording, Cai Junhuang’s performance order wasn’t very early.

It could even be described as mid-to-late.

But all contestants had to wait backstage.

Just like the auditions, the results—who passed and who didn’t—were announced on the spot.

Those who failed left crying, while those who passed… for now, none celebrated just yet.

Everyone backstage was restless.

Dancers were stretching, singers were warming up their voices.

Cai Junhuang, dressed in her prepared performance outfit, stood in a corner looking at her phone.

She kept replaying the video of Fang Jun singing.

Others didn’t know, but she was fully aware of how shameful she felt.

She hoped she could succeed—pass the preliminary round, then the semifinals, and even make it to the finals.

If she did, she could keep walking down this path.

If she got eliminated,

then everything she had given up would be meaningless.

Ever since Luo Ruiyu appeared, she realized she genuinely liked Fang Jun.

But she had no way back. The only path of retreat had been cut off by her own hands.

“Number 372, Cai Junhuang, get ready to go on stage!”

The announcement interrupted her wandering thoughts.

She hurriedly followed the show’s staff onto the stage.

Success or failure—it all came down to this moment.

Five minutes later, she stepped off the stage, a hint of disbelief in her eyes.

She had received unanimous approval from all five judges.

To think that among the over three hundred contestants before her, not a single one had achieved a full vote.

After the preliminary round ended, she was pulled aside by the production crew for a backstage interview.

‘Backstage interview’ meant a reserve interview, used to collect footage for potential clips or interjections later in the show.

But Cai Junhuang was still a little dazed.

She just answered whatever the director asked.

With the camera on Cai Junhuang, the director asked,

“Jun Huang is so beautiful—she must be very popular, right? Does Jun Huang have someone she likes?”

Cai Junhuang blurted out without thinking,

“Yes, I have someone I like. But I still chose dancing.”

The director raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

After the interview ended, the director directly told the assistant beside him, “Cut out that last question. Don’t include it. We need idols, and idols can’t have someone they like.”

With that, he left.

He still had to report the situation to the head director, Wu Daxu.

Although he didn’t know what background Cai Junhuang had, the production crew wouldn’t make things difficult for anyone who got a unanimous vote. Maybe soon, he’d have to address Cai Junhuang as ‘Teacher Cai.’

—System: When everything goes smoothly, that’s when you need to be wary—

Lin Mo stood on the rooftop of the television station.

His divine sense covered the entire Starcity.

Wu Daxu was the director of ‘Tian Zhi Hen,’ but he seemed to have deeper connections with entertainment companies over in the Korean Peninsula.

One after another, he made several calls there.

Lin Mo’s divine sense couldn’t reach that far, but he could use the system’s ‘Follow the Internet Cable’ technique to track them down.

He couldn’t do much with that, but at least he could record it.

Anyway, he would be heading to the Korean Peninsula soon.

For now, Cai Junhuang probably wouldn’t run into any major trouble.

He just had to ensure her safety.

Lin Mo always believed that the shift in Cai Junhuang’s life trajectory was because of him.

Lin Mo’s identity was no longer that of a small, unnoticed figure among many factions.

If he had to say anything, he was certain that many factions would be willing to plant spies or set up traps around him.

And these weren’t short-term setups spanning days or weeks—they could be long-term schemes measured in years.

In the end, Lin Mo cast a protective talisman on Cai Junhuang.

He no longer needed yellow paper as a medium; casting the protective charm directly onto her body was more effective.

If something really happened, it would probably—maybe—hold on until he arrived.

Of course, Lin Mo wasn’t entirely sure.

He did all this simply because he didn’t want others to get hurt because of him.

That was how the bonds of the human world worked.

After finishing all this, Lin Mo stood on the rooftop and let out a sigh.

“I’m really such a good person.”

With that, Lin Mo headed back.

For now, it was better not to disturb Cai Junhuang as she pursued her dream.

Even if he didn’t know when that dream might shatter.

After all, this was part of her original fate.

Time flew by, and soon came the day of the Arts Festival.

And around the same time, Lin Mo would be heading to Tianjing.

There, he would join the team to fly to the Korean Peninsula.

The Arts Festival was actually a celebration event for the clubs at Guangba School.

Each club could set up a booth on the playground, either selling items or showcasing their activities.

It was somewhat similar to a Japanese school festival, but not as formal.

And it only lasted for one day.

It was more like a quick browse and move on.

But that day, apart from the G3 (senior year) students, no one had classes.

It was only then they realized just how many clubs the school had.

The Anime Club had people in cosplay, and the Drama Club was advertising their evening program.

Because the Arts Festival’s performance time was from 7:00 PM to 10:00 PM.

It happened to cover the evening study hall period.

At this time, G3 students could participate too.

That was pretty awesome.

“Fang Jun and Luo Ruiyu took leave to practice singing at home. They probably won’t come to school until tonight,” An Yuexin said while eating an ice cream.

This was an ice cream made by the Gourmet Club, using milk, cream, sugar, and skim milk powder.

The key was that no water was added.

Both the texture and flavor matched the big-name stores outside.

Word had it that this ice cream maker was brought from a Gourmet Club member’s home.

Each ice cream cost just two yuan—it was unbeatable value.

Lin Mo and his group each lined up to buy one.

“It shows they’re really committed, but from what Luo Ruiyu told me, Fang Jun is getting better and better on the guitar.”

“How could he not? He hasn’t been attending evening study hall recently. As soon as class ends, he goes home to practice.”

Jiang Yunlu smiled and said, “After all, Fang Jun cares about his pride. And it’s fine if he loses face himself, but dragging Luo Ruiyu into it—that’s a different story.”

Lin Mo shook his head. “That’s not entirely true. He’s not the kind of guy who likes to leave behind embarrassing memories.”

“Perfect timing. I’ve brought professional equipment and plan to record everything tonight. Everyone will get a copy of Fang Jun’s bloopers.”

Jiang Yunlu had already prepared everything. She had someone buy professional gear and hired people to handle the recording tonight.

That was the power of money.

Right then, someone nearby handed out flyers.