After the Breakup, the Seductive Beauty-Type Omega Became Obsessed - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: You Understand, Right? Or Don’t Blame Me For Being Rude.

Bai Qianxue couldn’t help but complain. “Jin-jie, what was that for?! I didn’t even do anything!”

“Just behave yourself,” her manager, Sister Jin, replied coldly.

“I only came because there was supposed to be some news about Wen Mingzhi. Her? That Zhou Tian girl? Is she someone Wen Mingzhi pulled strings to get in?”

“She’s not even that good-looking. Just young, that’s all,” she scoffed.

“There are way better-looking people in the industry. Why would Wen Mingzhi be interested in her?” she said while casually fixing her curls.

“You said it yourself—she’s young,” Sister Jin shot back bluntly.

“Jin-jie! You—!” Bai Qianxue yelled angrily, humiliated.

“Just focus on recording the show. Don’t cause any drama. Last time’s issue hasn’t even been resolved!” Sister Jin glared at her sharply.

“I got it, Jin-jie… Do you think she’s pretty? Compared to me?” Bai Qianxue looked at her manager, eyes filled with anticipation.

“…You’re gorgeous, okay? You’re gorgeous…” Jin-jie replied perfunctorily without even glancing up.

“…”

The program team had been preparing since morning, and it wasn’t until noon that Yue Sheng officially began filming. Zhou Tian and the others waited in the backstage guest room in order, a large LCD screen in front of them, along with a cameraman filming their reactions.

Several contestants had already gone onstage. The mentors sat at the judges’ seats below, critiquing the singers’ performances. Occasionally there were good interactions, but most of the time the feedback was sharp.

When it was Lü Ningyue’s turn, Teacher Liu Taoran directly asked, “As a singer, why are you constantly appearing on variety shows? Are you planning to switch careers?”

Lü Ningyue stammered for quite a while before she could piece together a coherent answer, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead.

When it was Wen Qingying’s turn, Teacher Xi Yiyun fixed a sharp gaze on her. “You have a very distinct personal style, but that also risks boxing you in. Do you have other styles prepared? Can you show us?”

Wen Qingying performed another piece, but the comments were lukewarm: “Still that same fresh, breezy style. I hope to see you grow and explore more.”

Seeing her teammates face such blunt feedback, Zhou Tian couldn’t help but feel nervous. Forget the anxiety—just stepping onto the stage would likely mean another round of tough questions from the mentors.

This only made her more anxious.

Finally, it was Zhou Tian’s turn. She quickly wiped the sweat from her palms, took a deep breath, and walked toward the stage. A cameraman followed her closely.

Facing the camera, she gave an awkward smile and greeted, “Hello, everyone.” Then she tiptoed up onto the stage.

“Hello everyone, hello mentors. I’m Zhou Tian, and the song I’ll be performing is The Cicadas of Summer, the Light Rain, and Dusk.” After the introduction, Zhou Tian didn’t know what else to say. She had little experience on stage, and even fewer appearances on shows.

She bowed deeply, tried to regulate her breathing, and forced herself to calm down.

Offstage, Xia Ruo and the others backstage were all holding their breath for her.

Standing in the center of the stage, Zhou Tian waited for the music to cue, timed her entrance perfectly, and strummed the strings.

Then, her clear and light voice began to rise.

“No, my throat’s still tight,” she thought the moment she started singing.

And from then on, her mind went completely blank as she finished the whole song.

When the song ended, Zhou Tian hugged her guitar and bowed once again, then swallowed nervously and said, “Thank you, everyone.”

She stood alone in the middle of the vast, empty stage, while in front of her were intimidating and experienced mentors—and tens of thousands of fans.

Zhou Tian glanced out over the crowd. Her fingers trembled even harder.

After a round of applause, the mentors exchanged looks.

A moment later, Bai Qianxue was the first to speak. “Your throat was off, and you messed up two guitar notes.” She didn’t hold back, picking out the mistakes directly.

“Y-Yes, I’m sorry, I was just too nervous…” Zhou Tian clutched the mic tightly.

“The song itself is mediocre too. Your vocal technique didn’t really stand out. Maybe a couple of lines were a bit catchy…” Bai Qianxue’s words became sharper with each sentence.

“Thank you…” Zhou Tian nodded slowly. Her mind had already stopped functioning.

“Why did you come to this program?” Bai Qianxue suddenly changed her tone, eyes fixed directly on Zhou Tian.

“This is a great opportunity… I wanted to introduce my song to everyone.”

“But your performance was average.” Bai Qianxue leaned back in her chair, her smile clearly laced with mockery.

At that moment, the entire venue fell silent. Xia Ruo frowned, and the contestants backstage held their heads in disbelief.

Facing the crowd and the closely trailing camera, Zhou Tian lowered her head, at a complete loss for words.

“Teacher Bai Qianxue is being a bit harsh,” Xi Yiyun finally spoke. “It’s normal for newcomers to be nervous. As an original song, this piece was pretty good. Take it slow—Teacher Bai is just a bit strict with new artists.”

Zhou Tian: “Thank you, teacher.”

The atmosphere softened, like ice slowly melting. Zhou Tian felt a wave of gratitude. In her eyes, the aloof and reserved Teacher Xi Yiyun suddenly seemed gentle.

“Did you write this song yourself?” Teacher Liu Taoran changed the topic, engaging Zhou Tian.

“Yes, teacher, I wrote both the lyrics and the melody.”

“Very good. Keep it up—just keep gaining experience,” Liu Taoran encouraged.

The other three mentors also threw in a few words of support. After all, they’d been in the industry long enough to know which way the wind was blowing. Word was, Zhou Tian had been brought in by Wen Mingzhi—who would dare speak too harshly?

Except for Bai Qianxue, who had truly gone too far.

Xi Yiyun, on the other hand, was a well-respected and powerful vocalist in the industry, someone who had earned her place on the mentor panel through her voice alone—not capital or connections. Her feedback was known to be fair.

Zhou Tian had no idea how she made it back to the backstage room. Her mind was foggy.

“Zhou Tian, are you okay?” Wen Qingying quickly came over to ask.

Lü Ningyue, a seasoned show guest, saw the camera still rolling and quickly shifted the topic. “Come, come, have some water first.”

“See? You’ve finished performing now. Doesn’t it feel a bit better?” Lü Ningyue laughed, trying to lift the mood.

“Thank you.” Zhou Tian managed a dazed smile.

The other contestants backstage gave her mixed looks—sympathy, pity, indifference, concern, disdain… but mostly pity.

Compared to the earlier critiques, Zhou Tian’s treatment had been brutal.

No one expected Teacher Bai Qianxue to go that far. She had been pretty fair to the previous contestants.

Contestants who went onstage after Zhou Tian were trembling with fear—but once they were up there, they realized Bai Qianxue had returned to her usual self. The mentors didn’t say anything nearly as harsh again.

Bai Qianxue’s manager, Sister Jin, glared at her furiously, terrified she’d say something else to ruin her image.

She even approached the director team to ask if that segment could be cut.

Three more singers had gone onstage. Zhou Tian still looked defeated, like she’d left a part of herself behind on that stage.

Wen Qingying had originally wanted to say something comforting, but when she saw the live feed playing on the big screen, she held her tongue.

In times like this, saying too much could make things worse.

Instead, she asked gently, “Want some water? Or a snack?”

“No need, thank you. I’m okay.” Zhou Tian forced a smile.

As she watched the stage performance, a painful realization dawned on her.

With such a terrible performance, what would the goddess think? She must be so disappointed… She might even start to dislike me…

Her nose began to tingle, and her big, round eyes welled up with tears.

She lowered her head, pretending to listen intently, trying to suppress her emotions and hide how close she was to breaking down.

Wen Qingying and Lü Ningyue seemed to notice and shifted closer to cover her.

How could she mess up this badly? What now?

How could she possibly face Wen Mingzhi after this? How could she even call her to thank her…

Bai Qianxue’s cutting words rang in her ears again. She was just an average singer. Her voice wasn’t impressive. She even played the wrong guitar notes… How could someone like her think she deserved to be on this show?

Of all the contestants, she was the only one who didn’t belong on Yue Sheng. She never would’ve been selected if Wen Mingzhi hadn’t helped her…

Why did I ever think I could be noticed—just because I had an opportunity? That I could become famous?

I’m completely worthless.

Another song ended, and only then did Zhou Tian lift her eyes slightly. Her eyes were red, and her smile was stiff.

At last, the first half of filming ended, and everyone went to take a break.

Xia Ruo hurried over to Zhou Tian, and the two of them found a quiet corner backstage.

“It’s okay… it’s okay, Tian Tian… They just don’t recognize your talent. Don’t take what Teacher Bai Qianxue said to heart. Teacher Xi Yiyun was right,” Xia Ruo comforted her nonstop, holding a cup of coffee to her lips. “Just hang in there a little longer, we’re almost done filming.”

Zhou Tian nodded obediently, her round peach-blossom eyes brimming with tears, a sight that made others ache with sympathy.

Even though they were in a corner, the backstage area was still crowded. Staff and contestants came and went, some glancing over curiously, others whispering.

Lü Ningyue and Wen Qingying, seeing that Xia Ruo was with Zhou Tian, didn’t go over.

Then, under everyone’s shocked gaze, Bai Qianxue—who should’ve been in the lounge—walked calmly and smilingly straight toward Zhou Tian.

The entire backstage area froze. Everyone held their breath.

What is happening!?

Zhou Tian looked confused. Xia Ruo immediately stepped in front of her protectively.

“Excuse me, Teacher Bai, can we help you?” Xia Ruo asked, unafraid.

“Hi, I’m here to talk to her,” Bai Qianxue said with a polite smile. “Zhou Tian, sorry about earlier. It was just for the show. I didn’t mean anything by it—sorry if it sounded harsh.” Her tone was clear and her volume just loud enough for everyone backstage to hear.

Some cameramen even started filming.

“It’s alright, Teacher Bai. I understand,” Zhou Tian replied with a smile.

“That’s good.” Just before she left, Bai Qianxue leaned in for a mock hug, then whispered sharply in her ear:

“You understand, right? Or don’t blame me for being rude.”