Eldest Senior Sister Became a Sensation After Being Blacklisted Online - Chapter 17

When Song Cheng noticed the staff member’s awkwardness, she raised an eyebrow, reached out, and took the card. It read: “Drink bitter melon juice.”

Is this a prank or part of the game?

The staff member lowered his head, scratching his head awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.

The director captured this moment on camera, broadcasting it live to the audience.

I’m so curious! What game could make Song Cheng’s expression change like that?

This is going to be good!

Blind guess: Song Cheng’s about to crash and burn.

The show’s finally doing something right! These surprise challenges reveal the guests’ true talents. Song Cheng’s definitely going down.

The director’s so annoying! Why keep filming Song Cheng? Is my oppa not handsome enough, or is Meng Jie not pretty enough?

Exactly! This director’s such a jerk! If you can’t handle it, get out and let me take over!

In addition to the uproar among fans watching the live stream, the audience in the venue also noticed the prolonged interaction between the staff member and Song Cheng. After all, why else would the staff linger so long in front of her?

“Song Cheng is going too far, harassing the staff like that.”

“Exactly! She insisted on going last to act all high and mighty, and now that her plan has backfired, she’s taking it out on others. Her character is truly questionable.”

“Shut up already! You’ve had your face swollen by Song Cheng before—do you want sausage lips this time?”

“Song Cheng is a monster. You can’t judge her by normal standards. For the sake of my face, I’m not participating in this evaluation.”

“What now? I kind of want to see Song Cheng lose her temper. Will she finally snap?”

Seeing the staff successfully leave the stage, Zeng Jiong breathed a small sigh of relief. “Next, we invite the guest with the number 1 card to participate in the challenge.”

Song Cheng glanced down at the number 1 on her card but remained motionless.

“We invite the guest with the number 1 card to participate in the challenge,” Zeng Jiong repeated.

This time, Song Cheng couldn’t feign ignorance. The other four guests had all turned their attention to her.

Without a hint of embarrassment, she strode confidently to the center of the stage and asked, “Are you sure this isn’t retaliation for me taking the sword sheath?”

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Zeng Jiong cleared his throat. “You can doubt me, but you can’t doubt the fairness of the show.”

“So you do want revenge,” Song Cheng said, stopping in her tracks and shaking her head. “Too bad you can’t beat me.”

Zeng Jiong: “……”

Glancing out of the corner of his eye at the staff bringing out a fresh glass of bitter gourd juice, he immediately retreated a few steps. Remembering the challenge Song Cheng was about to face, the sting of losing 300,000 yuan lessened somewhat. With a faint smile, he gestured for her to proceed.

Song Cheng had taken the Phoenix Sword in front of tens of thousands of viewers and publicly revealed the money she had invested in the show. To quell the audience’s anger, the production team had no choice but to swallow this bitter loss, however unwillingly.

To his surprise, Song Cheng wasn’t satisfied with just the sword; she demanded the scabbard as well. Thinking the scabbard was useless without the sword, he silently allowed her to take it.

When Zhang Heng found out, he berated him fiercely and ordered him to demand compensation for the scabbard.

Three hundred thousand yuan—it had drained his entire savings. How could he not resent her?

Song Cheng glanced at him indifferently, reached out, and took the nearly full glass of bitter melon juice. Her expression remained calm, but inwardly she was cursing Zeng Jiong and the person who had designed this segment to hell and back.

Liu Zimang watched her with concern, about to say something, but Song Cheng had already tilted her head back and begun drinking the bitter melon juice.

She had underestimated the show’s producers. This wasn’t just bitter melon juice; it was as if they had summoned the very essence of bitterness itself.

She vowed never to eat bitter melon again in her life.

Not even look at it.

She had planned to down it in one gulp, but after only a third of the glass, she had to pause. Just then, Xu We spoke up: “Play a song you’re good at. Any genre will do.”

Very well, she thought, I’ll remember this.

She set the glass on the nearby table. “Just listening to music is boring. I’ll give you a performance that combines music and dance.”

Xu We, oblivious to the danger, readily agreed: “Great!”

After waiting a while, neither the musical instrument nor the sword arrived. Song Cheng glanced at Zeng Jiong’s tie and immediately approached him. “Lend me your tie.” Before Zeng Jiong could react, the tie was already in her hand.

Without a musical instrument, she began to whistle.

A rising and falling melody flowed smoothly from her lips. The tie in her hand seemed to gain a bone, its softness imbued with a hint of sharpness. With each graceful movement, the sword’s intent subtly leaked out.

Xu We was the first to notice. Despite being in a sem-enclosed space, he felt a sudden gust of wind. The wind tousled his hair into a bird’s nest, and even ripped off the buttons of his shirt. If not for his quick reflexes in clutching his lapels, his upper body would have been exposed.

Even so, the once-buttoned shirt now gaped open, revealing glimpses of his smooth chest. Combined with the shock and helplessness on his face, he looked as if he had been thoroughly bullied, eliciting both sympathy and screams from the crowd of fans.

Next was Zeng Jiong. Despite retreating to the edge of the stage, he couldn’t escape the sword’s intent. The hem of his tailored suit billowed, his carefully styled morning hair now stood straight up, and even his leather belt showed signs of loosening.

Desperate to avoid becoming the first host to suffer a wardrobe malfunction, he abandoned all pretense of composure, bending over and clutching his belt with both hands.

What sins had he committed to deserve this? Not only had he lost his fortune, but now he faced the humiliation of a potential wardrobe malfunction.

Having vented most of his frustration, Song Cheng pivoted, wrapped her tie around the cup, and with a slight tug, brought it to her lips. Tilting her head back, she rhythmically poured the bitter gourd juice into her mouth.

Forcing down the juice—so vile even a dog would refuse it—the music resumed. Unlike the first half of the performance, this time no one sensed any danger, allowing Zeng Jiong and Xu We to breathe a sigh of relief.

During another brief pause for breath, Song Cheng drained the remaining juice in one gulp. The unforgettable bitterness stirred her irritation. Momentarily losing control, she swung her tie in a circle, accidentally sending the wigs and makeup of the waiting guests flying.

The guests shrieked in unison, especially Chu Mengyao, who pointed a finger at Song Cheng and accused, “You did that on purpose!”

Song Cheng glanced at her dismissively. Only after the final note of the music faded did she reply, “If you hadn’t piled on all that junk, even if I had tried to do it on purpose, I couldn’t have.”

With that, she turned away, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s so ugly it hurts my eyes.”

Her blunt words sent the audience into an uproar.

“Could you be any more blunt? It’s so ugly it’s painful to look at.”

“Ah… Song Cheng, I hate you! You shattered my dream of the goddess! What am I supposed to do now? My eyes really hurt.”

“Hahaha, I’m dying of laughter! Song Cheng is scarier than a demon-revealing mirror. No amount of makeup can hide from her.”

“Am I the only one who thought her performance was amazing? I never knew a whistle could produce such beautiful melodies.”

“Who was saying Song Cheng was going to fail earlier? Come out here and open your dog eyes! Who else could deliver such a brilliant performance after downing a glass of bitter melon juice like it was nothing?”

“Thank goodness I didn’t join in. I finally understand—Song Cheng is here to slap faces. So, how are those who kept trying to tear her down doing? Are their faces still intact, or have they been completely ruined?”

Faced with the sudden uproar, Zeng Jiong felt a headache coming on. Forgetting about his own hair, he tried to calm the crowd: “Everyone, please settle down. What happened just now was an accident. But to ensure a better viewing experience, please wait a moment to give our four guests some time to recover.” His smile became stiff as he addressed the audience’s protests: “Alright, the program will cover the cost of everyone’s lunch today as compensation for the delay.”

With this reassurance, the audience’s protests quieted somewhat. The four guests whose makeup had been ruined hurried backstage, heads bowed and hands covering their faces.

The show didn’t end despite the guests’ departure. Logically, the person responsible for the chaos should have stepped in to rectify the situation. But did he dare?

He didn’t. After hastily fixing his hair, he spoke again: “While the guests are resting, how about we play a game? The lucky audience member who completes the challenge can ask anyone here a question. Of course, the person being asked can refuse to answer.”

Since the game was just to kill time, Zeng Jiong didn’t dare raise the difficulty. The lucky audience member only needed to complete 100 hula hoop rotations within two minutes to win.

Yet even with such a low-difficulty game, only one of the three participating audience members succeeded.

That audience member turned to Song Cheng, who was still lying on the rope: “Song Cheng, did you cause Zeng Jiong and Xu We to be blown by the wind?”

Song Cheng hadn’t expected to be targeted by Que. She tilted her head slightly. “What do you think?”

“I think so.”

Song Cheng spread her hands. “Then that’s that.” She yawned, meeting the glares from Zeng Jiong and Xu We. “Of course, you’re welcome to retaliate. I’ll be waiting.”

Her cool arrogance made Zeng Jiong and Xu We grind their teeth in frustration, while the audience member who had asked the question chuckled. “Song Cheng, aren’t you afraid of getting beaten up?” Before Song Cheng could answer, she nodded in realization. “Oh, right. I forgot—no one can beat you.”

Song Cheng: “……”

The crowd: “……”

Once one person started, others followed suit. Every audience member who had completed a challenge zeroed in on Song Cheng, bombarding her with bizarre and outlandish questions.

Just as Song Cheng’s patience was wearing thin, the guests finally returned.

The second contestant to take the stage was Chu Mengyao. Her challenge was to jump rope 500 times, but she was already panting after just 50 jumps. Her labored breathing became a prominent feature of her subsequent performance, earning her a score of only 7.

The third contestant was Meng Jie, who had to blow bubbles. Showing remarkable quick-wittedness, she chose a song with frequent pauses, earning a high score of 8.5.

The fourth contestant was Xu Meng, who threw darts with such poor accuracy that everyone shook their heads. Even after barely meeting the instructor’s requirements, she only scored 7.2 points.

The final contestant was Song Shu, who drank lemon juice. Her face contorted after just one sip, but fortunately, the instructor only asked her to improvise a dance, earning her 8.3 points.

“Are you curious about Song Cheng’s score? I am too, but let’s keep you in suspense for now. Let’s eat first. Also, since it’s quite cold today and the boxed meals arrived over half an hour ago, if your meals are cold, you can follow our staff backstage to use the microwave to reheat them,” Zeng Jiong announced. As soon as he finished speaking, staff began distributing the boxed meals.

In reality, most of the boxed meals were cold and needed reheating.

This included the meals for the guests and instructors on stage. Their assistants, who had been waiting backstage, rushed forward to reheat the meals. Zhu Ke also wanted to reheat Song Cheng’s meal, but just as she stepped onto the stage, she saw Song Cheng open her box and start eating.

The audience watching the screen was stunned: Song Cheng, can you get any lazier? Not content with never sitting when you could lie down, you’re now eating cold rice?

The temperature dropped suddenly, and after drinking that huge glass of bitter melon juice, even a steel stomach would struggle with cold rice!

I bet Song Cheng is the laziest person in the entertainment industry, hands down.

Seriously, even if you’re lazy, you should consider the occasion! Aren’t you worried about setting a bad example for the kids?

Am I seeing things? Why is the rice in Song Cheng’s bento box steaming?

The netizens weren’t the only ones who noticed this. The mentors and guests on set also saw it.

Xu We and Liu Zimang even stood up from their chairs, staring at Song Cheng in disbelief.

They exchanged a glance and simultaneously moved toward her, asking in unison, “How did you do that?”

The bento box had been cold just moments ago, yet now it was steaming. This was faster than a microwave!

If Xu We had approached her alone, Song Cheng would have ignored him. But since he was with Liu Zimang, she couldn’t refuse to acknowledge them.

Song Cheng swallowed her mouthful of rice, her gaze sweeping over Liu Zimang’s legs. She considered shifting to make room for Liu Zimang to sit, but quickly abandoned the idea when she realized she was sitting on a rope. “This is easy,” she said. “I can fix it in a flash.”

Xu We was ecstatic, having completely forgotten his earlier desire for revenge. “Can you teach me?”

Song Cheng’s eyes darted around twice before she held up five fingers. “Five hundred thousand. Guaranteed to learn.”

Remembering Liu Zimang was still there, she immediately turned to tell her, “I’ll teach you for free,” but instead, her lips met Liu Zimang’s in a close encounter.

The soft touch opened a door to an unknown world. The malicious impulses in her heart urged her to bite that tender, delicate lip.

But reason prevailed. She knew that if she did that, Liu Zimang would never speak to her again.

Unbeknownst to Song Cheng, Liu Zimang was equally flustered. Her heart pounded relentlessly, her throat tightening as she unconsciously licked her lips, drawn to their lingering sweetness.

That single movement struck Song Cheng like lightning. A tingling numbness spread through her body, the air thick with Liu Zimang’s delicate fragrance and softness.

“Ah…”

The audience’s screams snapped them back to reality. They frantically turned away, unsure where to put their hands.

Xu We, who had witnessed their intimacy up close, blinked and quickly lowered his head. “I… I’ll transfer the money to you later. Remember to teach me,” he stammered, then hurried toward the导师席 without looking up.

His departure only made Liu Zimang more flustered. She pretended to adjust her bangs as she fled back to the导师席, but her heart raced like a trapped deer, her mind flooded with Song Cheng’s features and lingering sweetness.

She shook her head violently, trying to banish Song Cheng from her thoughts, but Song Cheng seemed to have taken root in her mind, impossible to dislodge.

Song Cheng fared no better. She chanted the Heart-Clearing Mantra twice to calm her racing pulse, then glanced at the half-eaten bento box and neatly set it aside.

Finally, the event ended. Ignoring Zeng Jiong’s congratulations on her high score, her gaze followed Liu Zimang as she nearly ran off the stage.

This moment was captured by a nosy onlooker and shared online.

In just an hour, trending hashtags like #SongChengLazyToTheHeavens, #SongChengPubliclyRetaliatesWithMartialArts, #SongChengKissesBestActress, and #BestActressCriesFromSongCheng’sUnreasonableBehavior dominated social media.

Within three hours, Song Cheng’s Weibo followers skyrocketed from four to seven digits. Eagle-eyed fans noticed that Xu We had followed Song Cheng three hours earlier and had even liked and commented on her past posts.

Wait, didn’t my brother say he doesn’t use Weibo? He’s doing this for Song Cheng…

Song Cheng’s Weibo was buzzing with activity, and Liu Zimang’s wasn’t faring much better. After calming herself down, she logged into Weibo and froze when she saw the comment: “If you kiss, you take responsibility.”

Compelled by some inexplicable impulse, she liked the comment.

It wasn’t until an hour later that she realized Weibo showed who liked posts. By then, it was too late to undo her action. The commenter had already screenshotted her like and posted it under Song Cheng’s Weibo, tagging her frantically.

In that moment, she truly understood the meaning of “social death.” But what terrified her most was Song Cheng’s response. Would Song Cheng take responsibility?