Chapter 82: Move Aside, the School Heartthrob Has Arrived

After this little episode, the auditions continued to be a lively affair. Most of the contestants who took the stage performed their talents straightforwardly, though there were two or three who tried to win sympathy with sob stories. The three judges, however, gave them no more time—those who ignored warnings were swiftly escorted away by security.

During this period, quite a few good-looking young men and women took the stage. The most stunning among them was the young woman now stepping into the spotlight. Her figure was graceful, her proportions perfect—a classic nine-heads-tall beauty with exquisitely refined features, though her expression was rather cold and aloof.

Despite the enthusiastic cheers and applause from the male audience members, her eyes never once strayed toward the crowd. But that hardly mattered; her beauty alone was a feast for the eyes.

“My name is Qin Ning.”

Qin Ning wasted no words upon taking the stage. She ignored even the judges’ questions, simply announced her name, and began to sing.

She chose a song called “Night Butterfly.” Her voice was pure and ethereal, enchanting all who listened.

“Wow, her voice is incredible! I could listen to her all day—what a goddess!”

“She’s like a fairy descended from the heavens. Maybe a little distant, but I like that, ha!”

“Goddess, I’m your fan for life…”

When her one-minute performance ended, the hall erupted in applause, waves of cheers rolling across the crowd.

“Excellent, truly excellent. We’ve got some real talent in this round,” one judge remarked.

“A dazzling appearance, and that voice is a huge plus. She’s got real potential.”

“You’ve given me a sense of absolute wonder—someone worth cultivating.”

All three judges voiced their admiration for Qin Ning without reservation.

Yet through the audience’s wild applause and the judges’ near-rhapsodic praise, Qin Ning’s expression never changed—still that same icy detachment, like a celestial maiden descended from the nine heavens, unruffled by mortal affairs.

This season of Super Rookie placed great emphasis not just on talent, but even more so on physical appearance. For contestants who were especially striking, the expectations for their talent could be relaxed somewhat; for the less remarkable, the bar was set much higher. After all, talent could be nurtured by an entertainment company, but natural beauty and stature were far harder to change. Manufactured beauties would never match the popularity of the real thing, and height and figure could rarely be improved after a certain age. Thus, the naturally attractive men and women were the most sought after.

A contestant like Qin Ning, with her exceptional looks and mesmerizing singing voice, was bound to become a favorite. Unsurprisingly, she received unanimous approval from the judges. The green pass was handed to her personally by Li Weidong, who shook her hand and said with a meaningful smile, “Young lady, you’re a rare talent. If you seize this opportunity, your future will shine bright. Remember: don’t let this chance slip by.”

Qin Ning ignored him completely. She took the green pass, glanced at the back, and upon seeing the note attached there, her face turned icy cold. Without hesitation, she threw the pass directly at Li Weidong’s face and spat out two words in a voice as cold as ice:

“Scum.”

With that, she turned and walked off the stage.

“Whoa, that was amazing! What just happened?” someone in the audience exclaimed.

“I bet that judge tried to pull something on her and she shut him down right there. Our goddess is incredible!”

The dramatic scene unfolded before everyone’s eyes, and, seizing the moment, some in the crowd began to shout about shady backstage deals and the like.

“Everyone, quiet please. Next contestant, take the stage,” called one of the other judges, quickly moving things along. He and his colleague had a fair idea of what had happened, but out of respect for Li Weidong’s reputation, they could do nothing but smooth things over and keep the auditions going.

“That little brat, so ungrateful. How does she expect to get through the auditions now? No matter how talented she is, I hold all the power here. Offend me, and the gates of the entertainment world are closed to you before you even get started. Hmph!” Li Weidong fumed inwardly, never expecting the girl to be so willfully uncooperative.

How dare she act this way and still dream of making it in showbiz?

“Make way, make way! The campus heartthrob is here!” someone shouted.

Suddenly, a squad of twenty or thirty young men and women entered, waving light boards emblazoned with titles like “Wan Sifan, Heartthrob of Ninghai University,” “Ninghai’s Number One Hunk,” “Star of Tomorrow,” and other such resounding slogans.

Behind them, a dazzling Lamborghini rolled up, drawing every eye. When the supercar halted, a tall, handsome young man—just past twenty, by the look of him—stepped out. His hair was dyed a striking shade of yellow, styled in a flamboyant pompadour, and he wore oversized sunglasses. One look at his flashy ride and designer clothes made it obvious: he was the epitome of a privileged rich kid.

He carried himself with an air of swagger, completely unabashed.

With a bang, several male students set off confetti cannons as he got out of the car. The girls cheered enthusiastically, making for a scene so ostentatious that it immediately drew the attention of everyone present.

Many of the other young men whispered enviously:

“What a show-off! Is all this really necessary?”

“Hey, what can you do? He’s the Wan family’s son—a bona fide rich kid. He’s got every reason to flaunt it.”

“Campus heartthrob? Give me a break. He’s not all that. I’m better looking than him.”

“So what if you’re handsome? Can you drive a Lamborghini? Do you have a crowd of gorgeous girls hanging off your every move?”

As Wan Sifan strolled toward the stage, hands in his pockets and a self-satisfied smirk on his lips, he was surrounded by a bevy of pretty girls and a handful of greenhorn boys eager to bask in his glory.

In sharp contrast, a young man riding a battered bicycle approached nearby.

This young man was about the same age—early twenties—dressed in ripped jeans and a black T-shirt, all cheap street market fare. His hair was styled in a wildly outdated, spiky fashion, and he wore oversized sunglasses that covered half his face.

He looked, in a word, provincial.

Yet this country bumpkin seemed to have no awareness of his own incongruity, shamelessly parking his rickety bike right beside the gleaming Lamborghini.

This, of course, was Chen Yufeng.

To avoid being recognized, he wore a wig and sunglasses—both for disguise and to add flair to his act.

He still needed a ton of points before reaching the 180,000 mark. If he wanted to rack up points fast, he’d have to put on a spectacular show.

Chen Yufeng glanced over the crowd—there were more than two thousand onlookers. With so many people, even a modest performance would net him thousands of points. If he put on a big enough show, his points might even skyrocket into the tens of thousands.

With that in mind, it wouldn’t be long before he hit his goal.

His outlandish getup immediately drew everyone’s attention; he became the focus of the entire room, prompting a barrage of ridicule from the male spectators.

They envied and resented Wan Sifan, but since he belonged to a wealthy family, all they could do was grumble quietly. With someone like Chen Yufeng—a clear outcast—they could mock him openly, venting their frustrations without restraint.

“Who’s this country bumpkin? What era does he think it is, showing up with that ridiculous hair? Does he even know the meaning of the word ‘tacky’?”

“Seriously? Is this clown actually here to audition? What kind of talent could he possibly have?”

“You guys don’t get it—he’s a fallen aristocrat, the noble Duke Cold of the legendary Emolord family. Isn’t that right? Ha…”