Choosing imperial consorts in ancient times was nothing compared to this

As eight stunning figures appeared, dressed in flowing white gowns that exuded an ethereal charm, the atmosphere electrified.

"Everyone, rise!"

The female contestants stood up one after another, applauding in welcome.

Though every performer received applause, this time it was exceptionally thunderous.

...

Backstage.

The seven producer-mentors were also watching the figures on the big screen.

All seven had been handpicked by Cao Cheng.

Zhang Yixing led the group.

Though neither the oldest nor the most experienced, Cao Cheng had pushed him to the forefront—after all, this was a show for trainees.

Moreover, this wasn’t their first collaboration; their work together on "Go Fighting!" had been seamless.

Then there was Song Qian.

A former trainee herself, now serving as one of the dance mentors.

And Zheng Xun from South Korea—a so-called "all-rounder" artist, hailed as the "Asian Dance King."

Since this was a pan-Asian stage, they couldn’t just stack the mentors with their own people.

Appearances had to be maintained.

For rap, they’d brought in top-tier talent from both China and Asia.

In short,

The mentors were all household names.

As for controversies? Didn’t matter. Keep it bottled up—or vent and feed the endless stream of emotional engagement.

On the surface, everything was fair and square.

...

At this moment,

The seven mentors observed the eight girls on screen, their expressions shifting subtly.

Too beautiful.

Too poised.

Uniform outfits.

Their heights varied, but clever heel adjustments made them appear uniformly tall.

Their collective entrance eclipsed every previous performance.

Even these jaded mentors, accustomed to the industry’s most dazzling stars, were momentarily spellbound.

No helping it.

Cao Cheng had played dirty, showering them with endless "Daddy’s blessings."

Every possible advantage had been leveraged.

Combined with their innate talent and aura, their debut was nothing short of explosive.

Zhang Yixing remarked, "These are Cao Cheng’s artists."

Song Qian nodded. "Yeah, Miracle Media. Who knew they were hiding such gems? Their aura is incredible—bet their skills match."

"Everyone says Miracle Media doesn’t carry deadweight. These girls must be under insane pressure. Slip up, and they’ll get roasted."

"Hahaha..."

The familiar mentors laughed.

The less familiar ones whispered among themselves.

Learning these eight were Cao Cheng’s protégés, their eyes gleamed with realization—and calculation.

They’d better treat them well.

...

...

June.

"Training Camp 101" premiered.

Timed right after college entrance exams, the first teaser and episode dropped.

Simultaneously released across Asia.

The teaser outlined the rules, their six-month living quarters, and introduced the seven "surface" mentors—plus a shadow roster of industry elites.

Even the cafeteria featured chefs from across Asia.

The opulence was staggering—less a training camp, more a luxury retreat.

Envy sparked outrage, fueling backlash and engagement metrics.

But most viewers, especially overseas, gasped in awe.

The venue boasted autonomous robots—meal deliveries, parcel carriers, interactive AI.

Drone cinematography.

Drone light shows.

Self-driving cars and unmanned supermarkets within the compound.

Every detail flaunted technological prowess.

This wasn’t just a beauty pageant—it was soft power in motion.

...

Observers finally connected the dots.

So this was Cao Cheng’s game.

Why would a billionaire personally dabble in idol competitions?

Let’s be real—

Variety shows have profit ceilings.

And trainees? Industry insiders know: idols are mid-to-low-tier in the entertainment pyramid.

A few might blaze into superstardom, but it’s fleeting.

Beneath Cao Cheng’s pay grade.

Now the fog cleared—this was cultural export.

Only moguls grasp the stakes.

And the golden repute it forges.

Rival bosses itch to replicate it, but lack Cao Cheng’s clout and resources.

Better stick to their lanes, chasing daily bread—and starry-eyed girls.

...

As predicted,

State media piggybacked on the hype.

Not directly covering "Training Camp 101," but spotlighting robotics breakthroughs—using footage from the show.

The subliminal gains? Lost on the masses, but burning envy in boardrooms.

How does this guy even brainstorm such plays?

A masterclass in strategic flattery.

Exactly the kind of "culture" the ministry loves.

...

Of course,

Fans remain oblivious to these machinations.

After the teaser and premiere, hype exploded.

Especially among male viewers.

Dazzled, hearts racing, they babbled like emperors reviewing concubines.

"Ancient imperial selections had nothing on this!"

"Gentlemen, I declare—the Eight Golden Flowers are MINE. All mine!"

"This king objects!"

"Every sister’s flawless! How do I choose? The voting limits are cruel—nine votes max per day?!"

"Same! Selection paralysis is real."

"Anyone notice that Japanese girl? Killer smile—teeth freakishly straight."

"Probably veneers. Since when do Japanese have good teeth? Never seen one."

"Legs aren’t bowed either. Unexpected."

"She’s actually Korean-born, debuted in Japan, then joined AKB48!"

"Wait, that trajectory sounds familiar... V-Cinema next?"

"LOL, someone elaborate!"

"..."

Post-launch, discussions trended globally, forums inundated.

Some came for the girls.

Others loved the format.

Many marveled at the tech—self-driving cars already roaming freely?

What dystopia is this?!

Meanwhile, half of East Asia’s capitals still rely on rickshaws.

Like parallel universes.

...

As ratings skyrocketed, promotions scaled up.

The stage evolved daily—and so did the trainees’ skills.

These six months of filming? A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Anyone who joins the training camp, even if they lack exceptional skills initially, can likely outperform many peers after diligently completing the six-month program.

As the show airs,

various performance stages begin to unfold.

Each stage is visually stunning, especially those featuring Chinese-style songs—fluttering red dresses and folding fans leave the audience in awe.

Of course, international songs also make appearances,

like those from the "little seobang" (K-pop) or "little bakayaro" (J-pop) scenes… gotta keep it fair, right?

...

As the show progresses, fans can clearly gauge each contestant's abilities.

The "Eight Golden Flowers" stand out in particular.

They dazzled from their debut and later dominated many competitors.

Individually, they’re already impressive—skilled in singing and dancing, with graceful figures and unmatched charisma. Together, they’re simply unbeatable.

This naturally puts immense pressure on others.

After all, there are only nine debut slots.

And the Eight Golden Flowers already occupy eight of them.

Barring surprises, at least half of them are shoo-ins for debut—their talent speaks for itself. Even without the backing of Miracle Media, their fan votes alone give them a strong edge (assuming no foul play).

That leaves precious few spots for the rest.

Those who once thought this show would be a walk in the park now drop their complacency, training day and night with newfound urgency.

These moments are all captured on camera.

This isn’t just a show about beauty—it’s about positive values.

The contestants must shine not only in looks but also in effort.

And look,

it’s working like a charm.

In just two or three months, many have completely shifted their mindset.

No longer treating this as a scripted variety show, they push themselves to improve daily.

On average, most sleep no more than six hours a day.

The rest of their time is split between filming, entertainment, and sweat-drenched training sessions.

Fans watch with heartache,

especially when their favorites collapse breathless after practice, drenched in exhaustion.

Yet this also deepens their admiration.

This is what makes a true idol.

Seeing their beloved stars grow rapidly, fans feel every step of the journey.

And their love only grows stronger.

So...

The show becomes utterly addictive.

No matter the nationality, human emotions don’t differ much.

The show’s uplifting approach fosters unity:

When idols suffer, fans ache.

When idols smile, fans rejoice.

When idols face elimination, fans grieve...

These emotional highs and lows?

Pure gold.

...

Finally,

in August—three months into the program—the most brutal phase begins.

Eliminations loom.

The first three months focused on training and competitions, where anyone could stage a comeback.

Now, the cuts start.

Contestants will leave in waves.

But they’ll also get farewell stages, facing fans one last time to showcase their hard-earned charm and artistry.