IDEI Ch1

“We’re about to go on stage any minute, and Qi Yanning is actually sleeping in the dressing room?”

“It’s not like he can go on stage anyway, so of course he’s thrown in the towel!”

“Besides, what does he have to worry about? He hooked up with the director.”

“Must be nice, having backing unlike the rest of us with zero background. No wonder he made it to the top ranks despite having zero vocal or dance skills. Who knows what he did behind closed doors!”

“Pity that clinging to the director didn’t pan out either. Didn’t he get booted from the show anyway?”

“Stooping to anything only to end up like this. Serves him right!”

So loud. A chorus of chattering, snide male voices, noisier than Emperor Jingde’s imperial harem.

Qi Yanning knitted his brows in annoyance.

His mind was a tangled mess, unable to comprehend what these people were on about. But the last person who dared disturb his sleep had long since been shoved into some forgotten corner of the palace to wither away until death.

“Quiet down, everyone!” Another male voice cut in. It sounded clear and crisp, but was drenched in thick hypocrisy.

This person clearly held some sway, as the crowd quickly hushed.

“Don’t talk about Qi Yanning like that. He’s already been forced off the show by the public outcry, so let’s not rub salt in his wounds.”

The hypocritical voice rang out, outwardly showing concern, but to Qi Yanning’s ears, the smug self-satisfaction beneath was barely concealed.

“Qi Yanning, wake up!” The crisp male voice drew near, reaching out a hand to shake Qi Yanning.

Qi Yanning was not yet fully awake, but sensing someone approaching, his instincts kicked in. He seized the approaching wrist and twisted it with violent precision—

“Ah! Let go! Ow, ow, ow, it hurts!!” A frantic scream of agony ripped through the room.

Uproar broke out all around.

“Qi Yanning, why are you hurting people?!”

“Exactly! You’re the one who got kicked off, but A-Heng still has to go on stage!”

……

The clamor finally jarred Qi Yanning completely awake. Opening his eyes, he was met with unfamiliar surroundings and unfamiliar faces.

It was a modest room lined with crystal-clear mirrors reflecting every minute detail. In front of the mirrors blazed countless vanity lights shining as bright as the morning sun, casting an astonishingly brilliant glare over the space.

A torrent of memories surged abruptly into his mind, making his head throb. He frowned, slightly irritated by the sharp pain.

The memories loaded quickly.

Oh. I died, Qi Yanning thought, narrowing his eyes.

He wondered how that imperial Longevity Banquet had concluded after he took a blade for Emperor Jingde. An assassin at the Longevity Banquet would inevitably plunge the Son of Heaven into incandescent fury, bound to trigger massive political tremors across the court of the Yong Dynasty for months to come.

None of that, however, had anything to do with the current Qi Yanning anymore.

He was now merely an “idol” participating in a survival audition show. Already suffering from a terrible reputation due to lacking talent, photos of him entering and leaving the director’s private quarters had recently surfaced. Public outrage had detonated instantly, unleashing a flood of wild speculation and relentless malice.

A nationwide internet boycott had demanded his withdrawal from the show. And on the eve of the live stage performance, the director had expelled him from the production under the pretext of damaging the show’s reputation.

Confronted with the resentful rebukes of his teammates and the judgmental stares of everyone else, the original host had found himself completely defenseless. Just as he tried desperately to plead for one last chance on stage, the stinging ridicule from the production crew became the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

Unable to withstand the crushing stress, the original host had died of sudden cardiac arrest.

Qi Yanning narrowed his eyes.

The original host had been naive, failing to realize this was an orchestrated setup and merely stewing in frustration. But Chief Grand Eunuch Qi Yanning had waded through the bloodbaths of imperial succession; without even needing to scrutinize the details, he knew the instigator who had destroyed the original host was none other than this hypocritical man clutching his arm and wailing before him.

To think the original host had genuinely considered this so-called “A-Heng” his only true friend on this show…

Laughably naive.

“You hurt someone and won’t even apologize? Orphanage trash really have zero upbringing!”

Another yellow-haired boy standing beside A-Heng barked furiously, standing up for his friend with righteous indignation.

“I don’t like people getting close to me,” Qi Yanning drawled, arching an eyebrow. “A-Heng, as my best friend, you should know that, right?”

Drenched in cold sweat from the searing pain in his arm, A-Heng froze and looked up.

Meeting Qi Yanning’s eyes, he found them glinting with razor-sharp mockery.

The look gave him such a violent start that his heart skipped a beat.

Previously, although Qi Yanning appeared cold and rarely smiled, his eyes had been soft, like a newborn lamb. Yet the Qi Yanning standing before him now wore a faint smirk, brows cocked with haughty poise, his eyes sharper than ever, as though piercing straight through his despicable soul.

Cold sweat dripped down A-Heng’s back, his mind racing uncontrollably.

Does Qi Yanning know that the incident with the director’s room was my doing? Or does he know that those embarrassing photos and videos of him were leaked by me?

Thrown into utter disarray, his only desire was to flee this room.

“Come on, we need to go backstage,” A-Heng told the people around him.

The yellow-haired youth remained unsatisfied. “Heng-ge, but Qi Yanning hasn’t even apologized to you! Just because he slept with the director—”

“Mo He!” A-Heng shrieked sharply, giving everyone around them a fright.

They turned to A-Heng, their eyes filled with shock and bewilderment.

“Mo He, stop talking,” A-Heng forced out. “Nothing has been officially proven, so we shouldn’t speak about him like that…”

“But Heng-ge, didn’t you say—” the yellow-haired youth protested, thoroughly puzzled.

“Mo He, shut your mouth!” A-Heng whispered in Mo He’s ear, his voice laced with warning.

With that, he hauled Mo He along, dragging him out by force despite the boy’s lingering grumbles.

“Luo Heng,” Qi Yanning called out.

A-Heng—Luo Heng—froze in his tracks, looking back slightly over his shoulder. The others had already headed backstage, and the stylists had followed them, leaving only the three of them in the dressing room.

Qi Yanning took unhurried strides, his footsteps tapping rhythmically against the floor of the empty dressing room.

The steps were light and leisurely, yet felt as though they were stomping heavily upon Luo Heng’s heart.

Luo Heng knew that the director had placed immense value on Qi Yanning for ratings, seeing as he was a contestant with off-the-charts buzz. If not for the casting-couch scandal, Qi Yanning likely would have been carried by the director all the way to the finale.

Instead, Luo Heng had stepped in, severing Qi Yanning’s path before he could blossom. The director had cut the pawn to save the knight, forcing Qi Yanning out of the show.

If the director ever discovered that Luo Heng was the one behind it, despite having an investor backing him, Luo Heng didn’t dare imagine what kind of underhanded retaliation that influential, short-tempered director might unleash in the dark.

Qi Yanning’s hand came to rest lightly on Luo Heng’s shoulder. Luo Heng shuddered violently.

“If you’re this gutless, you shouldn’t imitate others in doing wicked deeds,” Qi Yanning drawled casually. “Be careful not to frighten yourself to death. Wouldn’t you agree, A-Heng?”

Luo Heng’s breath caught in his throat.

He really does know!

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luo Heng forced a tight smile.

Leaving those words behind, he dragged the bewildered Mo He and fled in haste.

The dressing room door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

Pulling over a chair, Qi Yanning sat down casually. The original host’s memories were a chaotic tangle; he needed to sort through them carefully to figure out his next move.

He closed his eyes in deep thought.

Unexpectedly, the dressing room door creaked open, revealing a cautious silhouette through the gap.

“A-Ning, you…”

Disturbed from his thoughts, Qi Yanning snapped his eyes open and glared impatiently at the intruder.

The boy flinched in fright, then poked his head back in.

“A-Ning, are you okay?” A curly-haired young boy stepped into the dressing room. “Um… don’t be sad. Everything will be alright.”

The boy’s words of comfort were dry and awkward, his large, bright eyes brimming with timid caution.

Qi Yanning searched his memory briefly.

Oh. This was the original host’s roommate on the show, named Pei Huan. The kid was pure-hearted, and lacking talent himself, had desperately wanted to huddle together with the original host for mutual support. Yet the original host had placed all his trust in Luo Heng, revolving around Luo Heng like everyone else and treating Pei Huan quite poorly.

To think that once the original host fell from grace, his supposed friends had kicked him while he was down, while this young boy whom he had never even treated as a friend was the only one to offer a word of comfort.

“I’m fine,” Qi Yanning raised the corners of his lips slightly.

“Oh, th-that’s good.” Pei Huan clearly didn’t believe him, darting worried glances at him that he thought were subtle. “Then, I’m heading out. I have to go on stage.”

With that, Pei Huan dashed toward the door at a speed completely unlike the cautious manner in which he had entered.

“Wait a moment, Pei Huan,” Qi Yanning called out lazily.

The original host’s predicament couldn’t be resolved in an instant, nor was he in any rush to settle it. But as for what he could do right now…

Gifting an opportunity to the only child on this show who had shown genuine kindness to the original host was exceedingly simple.

Hearing Qi Yanning’s voice, Pei Huan snapped to attention on the spot and turned around.

Narrowing his eyes, Qi Yanning appraised Pei Huan from head to toe.

Fiddling with the hem of his shirt, Pei Huan lowered his eyes and bit his lip, feeling intensely self-conscious. He could feel Qi Yanning’s cool, detached gaze sweeping over him.

What is A-Ning doing?

Sensing the gaze shift away, he lifted his head slightly and peeked at Qi Yanning with curiosity.

He saw Qi Yanning cast a quick glance over the dazzling array of cosmetics on the vanity, picking up a small pot of blush and a lip glaze before striding over.

“Lift your head,” Qi Yanning commanded.

Pei Huan immediately tilted his chin up, though his gaze remained fixed on the floor.

Qi Yanning swiped a finger across the blush powder and reached toward Pei Huan’s face.

The cool fingertips touched beneath his eyes, making Pei Huan flinch and pull back slightly. Before Qi Yanning could show annoyance, the boy hurriedly pushed his head back into place.

Qi Yanning’s fingers paused, softening his touch slightly. He blended the blush in varying depths beneath Pei Huan’s eyes and across his cheekbones. Then, unscrewing the lip glaze, he dabbed a spot onto the center of Pei Huan’s full lower lip.

Next, he casually unbuttoned the top button of Pei Huan’s crisp white dress shirt.

Stepping back, he inspected his handiwork. Pei Huan stood frozen in bewilderment, letting himself be scrutinized.

Qi Yanning pondered for an instant, his gaze sweeping across the dressing room. From a cluttered corner piled high with assorted accessories, he pulled out a black lace ribbon.

—And tied it around Pei Huan’s forearm.

In this position, it remained invisible when standing still. But once the dance began and the silky shirt sleeves bunched upward, the jet-black cutout ribbon would reveal itself against his snow-white forearm.

An innocent, bewildered expression paired with a flush of crimson beneath his eyes and across his cheeks, delicate, prominent collarbones peeking through the collar of his white shirt, and a fleeting glimpse of black lace ribbon…

Qi Yanning nodded with satisfaction.

“Alright, off you go.”

Qi Yanning had performed this series of adjustments near the doorway, leaving Pei Huan with no opportunity to see his reflection.

He wanted to check the mirror, but Qi Yanning blocked his path.

“Still not leaving? I can hear Luo Heng’s group’s music is already halfway through,” Qi Yanning remarked faintly.

Pei Huan gasped in alarm. His group was up immediately after Luo Heng’s!

“A-Ning, I’m heading out!” Throwing everything else to the back of his mind, Pei Huan hurried away.

By the time he sprinted down the corridor and reached backstage, his teammates were already in position.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was held up!” Pei Huan bowed deeply to his teammates, who were eyeing him with dissatisfaction.

Seeing him like this, his teammates’ irritation dissipated.

“Catch your breath and get ready. Don’t do this next time,” the leader said helplessly.

“O-okay,” Pei Huan lifted his head, looking earnestly at the leader.

“You…” The leader caught sight of Pei Huan’s face in the ambient stage lighting, stunned beyond belief.

Pei Huan felt a wave of anxiety. Is something wrong with my face?

Just as he opened his mouth to ask, he heard the host announcing from the stage: “Next up, let us welcome the ‘Moonlight’ group to the stage!”

Pei Huan could only swallow his words, hurrying onto the stage behind his teammates.

It was just a touch of blush and lip glaze, surely it can’t look that hideous, right? Pei Huan thought with zero confidence.

Taking his position on stage, he drew a deep breath.

The stage lights flared to life.

He distinctly heard a chorus of gasps from the audience below.

“Holy shit, who is that little beauty?!”