Everyone Spends Money to Make Me Debut as Center (GL) - Chapter 6

As the progress bar moved toward the end and the video neared its conclusion, Chi Rui’s voice softened to close the song. On their screens, viewers saw the red-haired beauty slowly approach the lens and reach out her hand. The shot was so close it was practically a “face-attack,” delivering a heavy blow of pure visual perfection.

After this point, the camera began to shake. Even through the screen, one could feel You Xiaotao’s excitement and nervousness at the time. Still, she tried her best to stay rational, steadying the camera and making sure to capture both of their hands together.

Watching this on a phone made it feel as if Chi Rui were inviting the viewer to hold her hand—a 100% “girlfriend perspective.” Then came the sincere words Chi Rui spoke softly into the microphone:

“I wasn’t perfect in the past, and I disappointed my fans many times. But if I can, I want to do exactly what the lyrics say—take your hands and walk forward together.”

[AAAAHHHH Chi Rui! You aren’t allowed to come out and seduce people like this!]

[Holy crap, is this Chi Rui? Can this be Chi Rui? Is this really Chi Rui? Please make a comeback immediately; I’m turning from a passerby to a fan! Who called her a ‘beautiful failure’? Come out and fight me!]

[I really want to be bitter and say she’s lip-syncing, but I heard the metallic clink of her earrings hitting the mic… and even if she were, you can’t learn to dance like that overnight. To work this hard at a mall event—honestly, she’s quite professional.]

The video’s popularity continued to surge. Marketing accounts swarmed in like flies to meat. Between the anti-fans’ vitriol, the fans’ defense, and the curiosity of passersby, the topic quickly caught the tail end of the “Hot Search” list.

There was no helping it; the name “Chi Rui” was synonymous with traffic. With her old personality, she dared to snap at anyone and offend everyone. Since her debut, she had been a constant source of conversation—being “black-red” (famous for being hated) is still a form of fame.

By the time Bai Chang saw the notifications from the collective “resurrection” of their CP (Couple) fans, it was already the early hours of the next morning. She was in a car heading back from a wrap party. Her assistant, Bai Yuanyuan, couldn’t help but spill the beans; Weibo was just too lively today to keep quiet!

“Boss, did you check Weibo?” Bai Yuanyuan started tentatively.

Bai Chang glanced at her and picked up her phone to scroll. She had a habit of checking Weibo regularly—much like a middle-aged person reading the newspaper—with the goal of staying informed on current events.

She quickly found You Xiaotao’s post. By now, there were hundreds of comments @-ing her to come watch Chi Rui dance.

The relationship between Bai Chang and Chi Rui was viewed through two completely different lenses. To the general public, after the “Slap-gate” incident, their CP connection was considered dead; only a brain-dead management team would continue to link Bai Chang with Chi Rui.

But CP fans were different. To them, the words Chi Rui spoke when she retired were a glaringly obvious confession to Bai Chang! Now, they were acting as if they were dragging Bai Chang to a wedding chamber, @-ing her to watch the video.

Once she started watching, Bai Chang found she couldn’t look away.

Unlike peers who shot to fame overnight, Bai Chang had studied dance since kindergarten and later attended a dance academy. Because of her outstanding looks, she signed a trainee contract with MK at fourteen. She originally debuted in a group, serving as both the main singer and dancer, practically carrying her teammates to make the group popular. Later, she went abroad for two years to study composition. After returning and releasing her first solo album, she was spotted by a famous director in a music video and cast as the second female lead. This successfully transitioned her into acting. She was the type who could do everything—and mastered everything she touched.

She was talented, spiritual, and hardworking. After years of acting and humbly learning from veterans, she accumulated a wealth of experience. Only after winning three Best Actress trophies did she finally shed the “eye candy” label and ascend to the “altar” of superstardom.

But acting was one thing; she hadn’t forgotten her roots. Bai Chang could see that Chi Rui’s smooth, powerful movements in the video required an immense amount of practice. At least two years—and for some, even ten years of hard work might not yield such results. Effort isn’t always equal, but she didn’t deny that geniuses existed.

However, based on her knowledge of Chi Rui—someone who would wail for half an hour just over a leg stretch—”practice”? And “massive amounts” of it? Three words: Impossible.

Even if, by some miracle, the dancing was achieved through diligence, singing techniques and vocal range aren’t as easily upgraded. In the song Chi Rui used to warm up the crowd, she had always used falsetto to reach the chorus’s high notes. In this video, she sang them with total ease, without even a furrow of her brow.

“Boss, you saw it, right? Any comments?” Bai Yuanyuan looked like she was enjoying the drama. “When did Sister-in-law become so powerful? I’m almost becoming her fan.”

In the passenger seat, manager Tang Yu turned and shot a look at Bai Yuanyuan. “Yuanyuan, why are you talking so much today?”

Bai Yuanyuan realized her tongue had slipped by calling Chi Rui “Sister-in-law.” She was just too excited to hit the brakes. Warned by Tang Yu, she immediately adopted a submissive expression and whispered, “Sorry, Boss. Just pretend you didn’t hear that.”

Fortunately, Bai Chang didn’t intend to hold it against her. Her expression suggested she didn’t take it to heart. It made sense; her marriage contract with Chi Rui still had six months left. For now, the title “Sister-in-law” was technically accurate.

“What event is this?” Bai Chang raised her eyelids, her finger tapping carelessly on the screen.

Tang Yu remained silent. Bai Yuanyuan happily chimed in, “Boss, look at the poster behind the stage. It’s a mall performance for Alfredo.”

“I know it’s a mall performance.” Bai Chang turned off her phone and shifted her gaze to the passenger seat. “What did Zhou Ping tell you? Don’t tell me the only ‘warm-up’ before National Girls was this single offline event.”

Tang Yu sighed inwardly. The fire had finally reached her.

Originally, Zhou Ping had been a newcomer working under Tang Yu to gain experience, a peer of Bai Yuanyuan. However, because Zhou Ping was a cousin of Wei Xike, Tang Yu was somewhat polite to her. No matter how much she disliked Zhou Ping’s habit of looking down on others, she never showed it. In this industry, it pays to leave yourself a way out—even if Tang Yu despised Zhou Ping’s “dog-acting-on-the-master’s-authority” attitude.

Later, Zhou Ping volunteered to be Chi Rui’s manager, and Tang Yu felt relieved. Normally, managers are of the same rank and don’t report to each other. Bai Chang asking Tang Yu wasn’t a demand for an immediate answer, but a roundabout way of telling her: Find out what’s going on and report back to me ASAP.

At the mention of Zhou Ping, Tang Yu felt a headache coming on. “I’ll contact her now.”

On the surface, Bai Yuanyuan seemed like a silly, happy girl, but after years with Tang Yu, she had learned to read the room. Sensing the awkward atmosphere, she quickly put on a smile and leaned toward Bai Chang.

“Hey Boss, look! You just gave it a ‘Like,’ and a ton of fans have already exploded! The original post’s repost count is nearing 200,000!”

Bai Chang slowly looked up. “A ‘Like’?”

Bai Yuanyuan’s smile stiffened. “No way? You just liked that fancam of Chi Rui on Weibo. Did you forget, or was it a slip of the finger…?”

Unless Bai Chang had Alzheimer’s, only the first possibility remained—but her medical reports showed no such thing.

Tang Yu reacted quickly. ” I’ll contact the team immediately to come up with a plan. Don’t cancel the like or respond saying it was a mistake yet. It might just trigger more messy rumors of discord.”

The marriage between Chi Rui and Bai Chang had never been made public. Even if it were, one party liking the post of a spouse who is currently “blacklisted” by the internet is extremely dangerous. One wrong move in “showing affection,” and both could be ruined.

Not to mention, the two of them currently had zero emotional foundation.

“No need.” Bai Chang turned her head, her gaze falling on the car window, leaving the stunned Yuanyuan and Tang Yu with only a silent profile. “Let it be.”

It was just a “Like.” Today’s Chi Rui deserved it.

That night, not only did the tag #ChiRuiMallPerformanceFancam# leap into the top five of the Hot Search list, but a new tag, #BaiChangLikesChiRui#, suddenly took the number one spot. It awakened a massive number of Bai Chang’s “zombie” (inactive) fans, who swarmed the comments with a unified message: “God Bai, so you actually remember you have a Weibo account!”

After the teasing, everyone’s attention naturally shifted to the protagonist of the video. The red-haired Chi Rui looked much healthier and had a spirit in her eyes she’d never had before. Her smooth, confident performance made it seem as though she had been completely reborn.

[Is Chi Rui a snake demon? Has she been molting in her nest these past few months?]

[The sister above with the divine metaphor, HAHAHAHA!]

[At first I thought God Bai had been kidnapped to give that ‘Like,’ but I was slapped in the face after clicking in…]

[By the way, didn’t she retire? She’s still out here taking up public resources.]

[Here we go again with the ‘public resources’ excuse. Every celebrity’s apology includes that line, yet they still buy Hot Searches just the same, don’t they?]

[So… is Chi Rui making a comeback?]

[Comeback? It’s time to release the long screenshots I saved. Let’s see how ‘cool’ she was when she left. (Image)]

Later, the comments were filled with debates about whether Chi Rui should or should not return. Coincidentally, National Girls officially announced its contestant list today. Before that, they finally revealed the long-teased “Program Representative”—Bai Chang.

In fact, the plan was to wait until all contestants had entered the camp to announce it. However, seeing the massive heat of the moment, the program team—deciding it would be a waste not to ride the wave—held an emergency meeting and moved the announcement forward.

The list was sorted alphabetically. Chi Rui’s name was near the beginning. Since official photos hadn’t been taken yet, the program’s official account @-ed each trainee’s Weibo; Chi Rui’s main account was right there on the list.

[What am I seeing? Chi Rui? Is it Chi Rui??????]

[Wait, if she wants a comeback, she should just hold a press conference. Going back as ‘reheated meat’ to join a trainee survival show to leach off the hype—has she no shame?]

[By what right does Chi Rui participate? This is so unfair to the other contestants.]

[Can we boycott her? Anyway, I’d rather die than vote for her! Let her flop!]

That night, Weibo was polarized. One half was under Chi Rui’s account, hurling insults and boycotting her participation, while the other half was under Bai Chang’s, leaving flowers and expressing excitement for the goddess’s appearance.

As one of the people involved, Chi Rui was currently struggling with the “Little Princess’s” long-neglected, stiff-as-scrap-metal ligaments. At the same time, she was scrolling through her phone, following the drama in real-time. Since she had long anticipated the consequences of joining the show, she had no reaction to the explosion of insults on her Weibo.

It was just that… young people today used such new words when cursing; she didn’t recognize all of them.

However, she didn’t just sit there waiting for the blow. After seeing Bai Chang’s “Like” on You Xiaotao’s fancam, she pondered for a moment, opened Bai Chang’s WeChat, and sent a message.

[Ms. Bai, can I apply for a change of manager?]

Author’s Note: Ms. Bai is on the way to spending money.