046 Su Yunjin is unbeatable!! (Please add to your favorites)

The scene erupted. Behind the stage, many staff members wore expressions of shock.

“What’s a qing?”

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know qing? It’s one of the oldest musical instruments; nobody plays it anymore.”

“No way—does Su Yunjin actually know how?”

Astonished, the backstage crew whispered among themselves, their eyes drifting toward Zhang Zhichang, hoping for answers. But the next moment, disappointment settled in, for Zhang Zhichang’s face betrayed a shock equal to theirs—perhaps even greater.

“Seriously? Producer Zhang doesn’t know?”

“I thought Producer Zhang was—”

“Shh…”

Someone had crossed a line and was immediately stopped by a colleague. But even so, Zhang Zhichang caught enough of the comment to guess its intent.

But—how could he possibly know! Not only was he not particularly familiar with Su Yunjin, but the qing itself had been lost to history for a millennium. Could Su Yunjin really play it? Was she bluffing? Was this all a show?

Shock. Doubt. Disbelief. A swirl of emotions churned in Zhang Zhichang’s heart.

In the live broadcast room, he was far from alone. After Su Yunjin claimed she could play the qing, astonishment was quickly replaced by skepticism.

“Impossible.”

“Come on, Su Yunjin is just bluffing now. She might know the fou, but the qing? It’s been lost for a thousand years!”

“Exactly, there’s a limit to how much you can exaggerate. Isn’t she exposing herself?”

“Damn, if I didn’t have some common sense, I might actually be fooled.”

A thousand comments. Five thousand. Ten thousand. In the blink of an eye, waves of disbelief surged through the streaming platform, reaching twenty or thirty thousand comments in minutes.

On stage, Luo Zhen was equally stunned after Su Yunjin’s words, but then sneered, “Ms. Su, even exaggeration should have its limits.”

Her words left no room for pretense.

The audience caught the tone.

Su Yunjin, naturally, was no fool. She knew what would happen the moment she spoke. The qing was scarcely mentioned in historical records; in modern times, it had vanished completely.

When scholars first discovered she’d woven the sound of the qing into her song “Mountain, Water, Wind, Moon,” they were astonished. Even after it was confirmed, the old academics struggled to believe, spending months in research to reach a conclusion.

So it was only natural that Luo Zhen didn’t believe her.

But—did it matter if Luo Zhen believed her? Was it worth caring about?

Resting her cheek on her hand, Su Yunjin smiled gently. “Ms. Luo, do you really think this stage is for boasting and frivolous games? If I’m not mistaken, to prove myself, the next step would be for me to perform a piece using the qing, wouldn’t it?”

Caught off guard, Luo Zhen’s expression changed instantly.

But before she could speak, Su Yunjin continued, “Of course, I can tell you plainly: I am willing to accept this challenge. But not today. Tonight, our task is to assign groups for the contestants. We’ve only got two hours, and we’ve already wasted a lot of time. This isn’t just my time—it’s the time of countless staff, prop masters, lighting technicians, sound engineers. It’s now 9:50 PM. Soon it will be ten. If we keep stalling, the remaining contestants will have no time. Do you think I’ll agree to your request? If you really want to hear it, you can wait. When the time belongs to us mentors, I’ll show you—and those who doubt—a true rendition of ‘Mountain, Water, Wind, Moon’!”

Her clear, cool voice was calm yet powerful.

The noisy scene fell silent.

The live broadcast room, once flooded with comments, quieted.

The camera swept across the audience and contestants; every gaze shifted from skepticism to reverence.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Clap.

Clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

No one knew who started it, but suddenly the hall thundered with applause.

In the broadcast room, viewers went wild, showering Su Yunjin with likes amid the raucous applause.

“Damn, I’m falling for Su Yunjin.”

“Ahhh, even though we didn’t hear her play the qing, she actually thought to not waste everyone’s time.”

“Exactly, we office workers are exhausted—who wants to work overtime?”

Even though the online viewers were all at home, each was a wage-earner. Overtime, after-hours meetings—none of it was rare. Moments ago, everyone was focused on whether Su Yunjin could play the qing, forgetting this was a live show, a talent competition. They saw not only the people on stage, but the many behind-the-scenes workers.

The mentors sitting on stage basked in the spotlight, but that glow was not theirs alone—it came from the efforts of the unseen staff.

And under such circumstances, Su Yunjin remembered those quiet contributors. Many viewers felt warmth from her words.

To possess dignity without arrogance—such a person, would anyone begrudge a bit of time for her performance?

“I’m crying.”

“I’ll wait, I’ll wait! Center Girl Group, I’m all in!”

“Damn it, I used to just watch this show in my spare time, but now…wherever Su Yunjin goes, I’ll be there! Whenever Center Girl Group premieres, I’ll tune in!”

“Before: Just another talent show. Now: For Su Yunjin, let’s go, boost her popularity!”

“I admit, I doubted her before, but now…so what if she brags? Is there anyone else so genuine?”

“That’s right, Su Yunjin forever! I’m her diehard fan from now on!”

“Conscientious bosses, take a lesson from Su Yunjin!”

The viewers were boiling over.

Utterly, completely boiling over.

Comment after comment exploded onto the screen, impossible to keep up.

As the barrage of messages poured in, Center Girl Group’s popularity score soared.

A hundred thousand.

Three hundred thousand.

Five hundred thousand.

Within minutes, Center Girl Group’s popularity reached 5.2 million, just sixty thousand away from six million!