Lingling could genuinely sense the fans' heartfelt affection for the nine girls.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to come up with names for the wines.
Each name had to carry meaning, match their personalities, and align with their status.
It was incredibly time-consuming.
However.
Their fame levels were different.
That much was true.
Lingling rarely appeared on TV, never bothered with promotional press releases, and never actively engaged in PR.
Her usual activities involved performing at high-profile events, like national-level concerts…
So while Lingling had a sizable fanbase, her prolonged absence from the spotlight meant she lacked the same "cohesive fandom" as idol groups.
To put it bluntly, if Lingling simply wore a mask and walked down a busy street, chances were few would recognize her.
But some idols were different.
Their exposure was massive.
Even random passersby often spotted them.
So appearing in crowded areas significantly increased the risk of being recognized.
...
While Cao Cheng chatted idly with Lingling,
backstage at the stadium, the girls were preparing.
The crew was enormous.
There were over a dozen makeup artists, each touching up one of the girls.
Costume designers were also on standby.
Once they took the stage, each outfit would last no more than two songs before they had to rush back for a change.
Of course,
the stage wasn’t just for the nine of them. Invited singers, including their former classmates from Produce 101, would also perform.
For this tour, they only had one full album—about twenty songs.
But a concert typically required thirty, sometimes even forty songs.
So,
the rest were either guest performances or purchased covers of dance tracks.
A few of the girls, freshly made up, were snacking to refuel.
Soon, their head manager arrived.
All nine immediately stood up.
This wasn’t Sister Li, but one of her trusted aides—a seasoned manager who had guided many established stars.
Now assigned exclusively to the nine, she served as their chief manager.
The moment the chief manager walked in,
the girls greeted her respectfully.
The manager’s expression was stern, cutting straight to the point: "I won’t waste time on details. After so many tour stops, you’re more than capable of handling any stage. There’s just one thing."
Seeing her grave expression, the girls froze, halting whatever they were doing.
Even Yang Chaoyue, the sixth member, quietly put down the piece of fruit she’d just picked up.
It was rare to see the manager this serious.
She was usually all smiles,
quick to praise them.
Their bond was strong.
So,
this was arguably the first time they’d seen her like this.
The manager raised a finger, and the surrounding crew paused their work.
She said, "Just one thing. I got word today that President Cao might be in the audience, watching your performance from the crowd. So… I don’t need to spell it out, do I?"
"..."
Everyone stiffened.
President Cao?
Sure, there were plenty of people with that surname.
But the only one who’d make the manager this tense was Cao Cheng.
Their actual boss.
Every staff member present was employed by Miracle Media.
Hearing this, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
The pressure was palpable.
The "Eight Golden Flowers" handled it slightly better. Though they’d only met Cao Cheng once in the past year, they’d grown up under his influence.
They knew his temperament well.
For instance,
even if a stage mishap occurred—as long as it wasn’t deliberate—he wouldn’t blame them. Instead, he’d worry about whether they were hurt.
So,
their expressions remained steady.
But the crew was different.
They had no direct access to Cao Cheng and no insight into his private demeanor.
Even the chief manager rarely interacted with him, hence her tension and pressure.
She had no idea why he was coming.
If this was a performance review, even a minor slip-up could spell trouble for her.
The manager had only just learned that Cao Cheng requested two tickets—likely to attend the concert.
That’s why she’d rushed over to deliver the news.
Her goal was simple: to ensure everyone gave their absolute best, leaving no room for complacency.
After dozens of tour stops, exhaustion was inevitable. But with Cao Cheng personally attending these final two shows, they had to bring their A-game.
These nine weren’t the same as they were a year ago.
Back then, nerves and mistakes were forgivable. Now? Unacceptable.
"Yang Chaoyue."
The manager fixed her gaze on her.
"Ah!" Yang Chaoyue startled.
The manager said, "Especially you. No mistakes on stage tonight. You’ve improved a lot over the past six months—we’ve all seen it and are proud of you. But you still occasionally lag behind the rhythm..."
Yang Chaoyue grimaced. "I’ve been trying so hard."
"I know you have. But tonight, no slip-ups. The rest of you, keep an eye out too. In a nine-member group, one mistake drags everyone down. It’s glaringly obvious on stage."
"This shouldn’t need repeating. You know it already."
"So..."
"Show your unity. Make tonight’s performance flawless."
"Understood?"
"Understood."
"Got it."
They answered in unison.
The manager scanned the room, then nodded, satisfied.
These girls were diligent on their own.
That’s why she rarely had to be harsh.
But today was different.
If something went wrong, the consequences would be real.
...
Soon,
the manager left.
The nine exhaled in relief.
One of them muttered, "Rare to see her this tense. She said we were nervous, but I think she’s the most nervous one here."
The others chuckled.
True.
The Eight Golden Flowers weren’t particularly rattled, but the manager’s alarmist tone had put everyone on edge.
Ye Lan, the leader, spoke firmly. "I know you’re not afraid of the young master. But the manager’s right—we’re not the same as we were a year ago. If he’s here tonight, it might be to evaluate us."
"If the results aren’t up to par, he won’t punish you severely, but there will be consequences."
"And you all know what those consequences entail."
That snapped them back to reality.
Their expressions shifted.
She was right.
Cao Cheng treated them well, but his punishments? They were something else.
And deeply embarrassing.
Ye Lan had been punished once—forced into a sideways split against a wall for over an hour while Cao Cheng sipped tea nearby, occasionally tutting.
It left her traumatized.
The split itself wasn’t the issue. It was the way he watched, eyes gleaming with mischief,
those deliberate, teasing clicks of his tongue.
The scene was so embarrassingly vivid that it made her flush every time she stretched her legs afterward, her mind replaying that moment on loop.
The young master’s punishments were always psychological warfare.
The slightly more bearable ones involved massaging him as penance.
Old Six, standing nearby, didn’t know the specifics of the punishment but could tell it wasn’t anything pleasant.
He stammered, "Uh… so, what happens if I mess up?"
The other eight immediately turned to Yang Chaoyue, Old Six, and burst into laughter.
"With Old Six here, we’re safe—no way we’ll get punished tonight."
"Exactly, exactly."
"Wait, what’s that supposed to mean? ‘No punishment for you guys’? So I’m the only one getting it?!" Yang Chaoyue protested in a panic.
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
ts me of treason?" "Correct. The host must return to the capital and gradually build up influence." "Wait—I have half a million soldiers, and you want me to go back to the capital to 'build influence'?" "Host, you are currently the Northern Garrison General, loyal to the Great Xia Dynasty." "Of course I am loyal to Great Xia! Absolutely loyal!" "But you keep referring to yourself as 'We'..." "Never mind the details! Summon all the regional commanders and military officers! We suspect treacherous officials are manipulating the court! They shall march with Us to the capital and purge the corrupt!" "......"
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
