Li Mengjiao and her group arrived in Hunan and checked into the hotel arranged by the organizers. After joining the champions and runners-up from other divisions, the eight contestants from the four divisions made a collective appearance at Mango TV’s press conference, where the finals’ format was announced.
The four division champions would advance directly to the annual grand finals.
The four runners-up would compete in a separate match for the final spot in the grand finals, with only one advancing.
This match, dubbed “Resurrection Night” by Mango TV, eliminated the audience judging panel, leaving three professional judges. Off-site voting would decide the runners-up’s fate.
The announcement sparked an uproar among the media.
Before the press conference, the organizers had kept the details secret, claiming only division champions could enter the grand finals. The addition of a “resurrection match” was unexpected.
At this stage, three matches awaited the contestants.
The first was the runners-up resurrection match, where four competed for one spot.
The second was the top-five-to-top-three match.
The third was the top three vying for the championship.
At the press conference, Director Fan spoke for Mango TV, promising that after the competition, the organizers would tailor personal albums for the top three—champion, runner-up, and third place.
“Top-tier musicians will be involved, with millions in promotional funding to support the top three, helping them win over more fans.”
This was blatant star-making.
Xu Mei felt a surge of excitement, while Li Mengjiao was conflicted.
A personal album wasn’t out of the question, but only if she didn’t sign a contract. Without signing, the promised album would likely vanish. Li Mengjiao felt a twinge of regret but quickly shrugged it off.
She hadn’t considered that without signing, the top three was theoretically out of reach.
The press conference drew significant media coverage. As Rongcheng hosted a division, its media reported heavily.
The next day, Saturday, Wen Ying saw a group photo of the contestants in the morning paper.
Xu Mei stood center stage, with Li Mengjiao beside her.
The organizers were clearly set on promoting Xu Mei.
In this life, Wen Ying’s rebirth had altered the Rongcheng division’s champion and runner-up, rippling through the entire competition.
Wen Ying recalled that in her past life, the organizers hadn’t publicly promised tailored albums for the top three. They might have told contestants privately, but the audience never heard it.
In her past life, the top three did release albums, capitalizing on the competition’s buzz to earn money. Their fame faded quickly, except for one contestant—similar to Li Mengjiao’s style, who was displaced this time. That contestant’s career had ups and downs but persisted in the industry, resurfacing after over a decade. Wen Ying suspected the album promise was partly to hype the event and partly to lure Li Mengjiao into signing.
Li Mengjiao, straightforward as ever, likely didn’t see the underlying motives.
Li’s mother probably did but wouldn’t point it out.
“What’s so funny?”
Chen Ru peeked over. “Don’t mimic those silly girls chasing stars. Those fans aren’t smart, wasting time on something that yields no return. If they fail to get into a good university or find a job, will their idols arrange work for them?”
Wen Ying couldn’t hold back a laugh.
Crude but true—Chen Ru was right. Chasing stars could derail studies, and idols wouldn’t secure fans’ futures.
But stars weren’t entirely to blame. Games, novels—any addictive hobby could distract. Without self-control or parental oversight, teens could easily neglect school. Thinking back, her mother’s strict control in her past life curbed her hobbies but kept her from drowning in novels at the expense of studies.
“Are you listening?”
Wen Ying nodded vigorously, folding the paper. “Wise words—how could I not listen? I wholeheartedly agree!”
At some point, Wen Ying had changed.
She stood firm on principles but yielded on small matters to Chen Ru.
Chen Ru suspected Wen Ying was humoring her but had no proof.
The old, wooden Wen Ying wasn’t likable, nor was the overly stubborn one. This slick-tongued version hit Chen Ru’s weak spot—who doesn’t love flattery? Chen Ru was no exception.
On the surface, their mother-daughter bond grew harmonious. With Wen Ying’s deliberate guidance, Chen Ru began sharing “big matters.”
During breakfast, Chen Ru couldn’t hold back: “We might delay renovating our house. Living here is fine, and it’s close to your school.”
Wen Ying set down her chopsticks, hesitating. “Is it money? In a couple of months, I could pull a few tens of thousands from the shop—”
“Focus on your studies. We’re not short on money, and we don’t need you to fund renovations.”
Chen Ru cut her off, then, fearing disbelief, revealed the truth: “The renovation money—I want to lend it to your aunt. Her company shut down, and she sold her car. All they have left is an old Santana! I heard they might sell their house next. It’s hard to buy back a house once it’s gone. Lending her the money might help her through this. As for your uncle Deng Shangwei, he’s utterly unreliable!”
Chen Ru didn’t share all the details.
She knew Chen Li and Deng Shangwei had three properties: their current home, a small apartment, and an unrenovated unit in the same complex as Chen Ru’s.
Deng Shangwei’s business had collapsed. Chen Li sold her red Mazda. Chen Ru opposed selling their house—Chen Li had two sons, Deng Jie and Deng Hao. What about their future marriages?
With Deng Shangwei’s shady past, Chen Ru didn’t trust him. Since Chen Li wouldn’t divorce, Chen Ru wanted little to do with him.
Wen Ying’s mouth fell open. “Mum, Aunt sold her car to… It’s not as bad as you think!”
Chen Li sold the Mazda to cement Deng Shangwei’s “bankruptcy” facade.
But after the sale, Deng Shangwei was already scouting new cars for Chen Li, even taking Wen Ying to see one. Once Yu Wenhao’s trap closed, he’d surprise Chen Li with it.
Chen Li had explained Pan Li’s matter to Chen Ru, but Chen Ru didn’t believe her.
Wen Ying wanted to say Deng Shangwei wasn’t that bad and the bankruptcy was fake, but Chen Ru wouldn’t hear it: “You’re a kid—what do you know? I’m just informing you about the loan, not asking your permission.”
—There was the familiar mum she knew.
