Old Liu Yang's luck is truly heaven-defying.

Cao Cheng also felt a bit helpless.

The Twelve Golden Flowers were personally handpicked by him—from auditions to interviews and finally to training—he had invested tremendous effort into them.

At the very least, compared to other matters, Cao Cheng had devoted a significant amount of attention to them.

You see, even for something as important as the Core of the Pivot Realm, Cao Cheng only cared about it at the beginning.

Now, he barely manages it, occasionally checking on the progress at most, leaving most of the work to Old Cao.

So, logically speaking, Cao Cheng had deep affection for every one of the Twelve Golden Flowers.

He genuinely wanted his girls to succeed.

Aside from continuously providing him with emotional value, he sincerely wished for them to thrive.

That was the bond they shared.

But...

With his years of experience, Cao Cheng knew very well that aside from people like him who had "cheat codes," there were others whose lives seemed blessed even without any system.

This kind of unreasonable luck could completely overshadow the hard work of ninety-nine percent of people.

These kinds of people... were simply unstoppable.

Cao Cheng had big data on the popularity rankings of the nine members.

Yang Laoliu alone accounted for thirty percent, while the other eight shared the remaining seventy.

And that wasn’t all.

Even among ordinary people—those who didn’t follow the nine-member group or even pay much attention to the entertainment industry—many still knew of Yang Laoliu.

That was terrifying.

...

After they rose to fame, Cao Cheng only helped Yang Laoliu with one promotional campaign—attributing the "lucky koi" aura to her.

The initial trend of "worshipping the koi" was actually started by Cao Cheng hiring internet trolls to spread it.

After that, he never used any additional promotions or publicity for her.

She simply rode the wave of this overwhelming fortune on her own.

So,

When Ye Lan asked about it, Cao Cheng thought it over and ultimately concluded that Yang Laoliu’s future path would be smoother.

At least for the next seven or eight years, Yang Laoliu would likely be the most successful among the nine if she went solo.

Seeing the faint dissatisfaction on the girls’ faces—

Though they hid it well—

It didn’t escape Cao Cheng’s notice.

He knew that if he didn’t clarify things, these girls might develop a "mental block."

After all, they had worked so hard, yet they still couldn’t compare to Yang Laoliu, who had stumbled into fame halfway?

Cao Cheng chuckled. "You’re not happy about it, are you? But... you need to understand that everything comes down to returns."

"Especially for entertainers. To gauge how popular someone is, you look at their earnings. No matter how much you talk about fan numbers, they’re just abstract. What matters is whether capital is willing to spend on them and the ratio of investment to returns."

"You might not know, but I can break it down for you."

"Take the eight of you, for example. From childhood, you trained in professional dance—how much did your families spend? At least a million, right?"

The moment he said this,

None of the eight refuted it.

At the very least, it wasn’t an exaggeration.

Not every girl came from a well-off family, but from ages five or six until college graduation, spending a million over so many years wasn’t excessive.

Especially in the arts—this was actually on the lower end of the spectrum.

Cao Cheng nodded. "Then, after graduation, I picked the twelve of you out of countless candidates—each one in ten thousand. That also required a huge investment of manpower and resources."

"Over the next two-plus years, nearly three, you underwent training in dance, vocals, poise, foreign languages, acting... I won’t go into the exact costs, but you should have an idea. It definitely wasn’t less than what you spent growing up."

"Then came Produce 101, with all its promotions and publicity... the expenses were enormous."

"After debuting as a group, this tour might seem like it’s making a lot of money, but the investment was no small matter either. Countless people in the company worked behind the scenes to support you."

"And the PR team has to draft press releases and organize promotions for you every single week."

Every word Cao Cheng said left the girls with no room to argue.

Finally,

He pointed at Yang Laoliu. "But do you know how much was spent on Yang Laoliu?"

The eight glanced at Yang Laoliu and shook their heads.

Cao Cheng waved a hand. "I won’t even talk about her upbringing—she was just an ordinary student who later dropped out to work. Her family background wasn’t great..."

At this, Yang Laoliu gave an awkward smile, a hint of shame flashing across her face.

"Then there’s Produce 101 and the promotions after debut."

"You should know—I only promoted Yang Laoliu once, and it cost almost nothing. The 'lucky koi' thing was my idea."

"Huh?"

The girls were stunned.

Cao Cheng smiled. "Surprised? But it’s not that strange. Without the company’s PR team pushing it at the start, would the 'worship the koi' trend have caught on so quickly with fans? After that, the company didn’t intervene anymore, but 'worship the koi, receive good fortune, believe in Laoliu, gain eternal life'—this phenomenon kept spreading organically."

"That’s luck."

"And fate."

"Some people are born with such good fortune that their investment is minimal, but the results are staggering."

"From this perspective, Laoliu will have an easier time navigating the entertainment industry than you will."

"That’s an undeniable fact."

"But..."

"Heaven rewards diligence. You’re not bad either—at least compared to other trainees in the same field, your luck is better than most."

"It’s just that compared to this cheat-code existence, you’re slightly behind."

"So don’t lose heart. Can’t the eight of you take her on together? Even if her fame outshines yours, you can always pull her hair, tear her clothes, or pin her down and beat her up in private to vent. The company won’t interfere."

"..."

"..."

Yang Laoliu’s face paled at this.

Seriously?

Especially when she saw the mischievous smirks on her sisters’ faces, she couldn’t help but glare fiercely at Cao Cheng.

"Oh-ho... daring to glare at the boss? Sisters, get her!" Cao Cheng pointed, and the girls immediately pounced.

"Ah! I was wrong, I was wrong! I won’t do it again!"

It wasn’t a real beating, of course.

But after Cao Cheng’s words, the resentment in their hearts actually faded quite a bit.

It was true.

Compared to other trainees, their luck had been incredible.

They were scouted by Cao Cheng right after graduation, dominated Produce 101, and even completed a full Asia tour.

That wasn’t something just anyone could pull off—yet they managed it right after debut. It was something to boast about for life.

The only downside was being slightly overshadowed by Yang Laoliu, this anomaly.

Thinking about it, it wasn’t so hard to accept.

And when they reflected on it, Yang Laoliu’s luck really was heaven-defying.

She couldn’t do anything.

Even now, her skills were among the weakest of any trainee—no talent for singing or dancing.

All she had was luck.

Meanwhile, the eight of them were truly well-rounded, with no weaknesses.