Volume 1, Chapter 9: Guess What a Solo Battle Means?

[Help, can I borrow Su Nianxi’s mouth for a moment? How can someone be this talented?]

[It’s like this: the happiest thing at work every day is hearing someone say, “I’m only telling you this, don’t tell anyone else.”]

[Because by then, you’ve already thought about how to embellish the story, right?]

Su Nianxi and Song Shian whispered to each other, while the on-site director had already realigned the departments and resumed the earlier schedule.

Ye Zhixia soon stepped onto the stage to draw her scene partner.

However, when she unfolded the slip, it was completely blank—nothing written on it.

“What... is this about?” Ye Zhixia looked taken aback, clearly not expecting this, momentarily at a loss.

But Shen Yizhou calmly picked up the microphone and said, “It’s simple. This is your solo performance.”

“Solo performance?” Upon hearing this, not only Ye Zhixia but the other trainees were utterly confused.

Su Nianxi looked at their serious, questioning faces and spoke affectionately, “Solo performance? How do I explain that? It just means fighting alone.”

Song Shian chuckled at Su Nianxi’s explanation and couldn’t help adding, “Exactly. Like last night when Teacher Su went on a verbal sparring spree on Weibo and hit eight hundred trending topics—that’s a solo battle.”

It was rare to see Song Shian join in, and Su Nianxi beamed with gratitude, “Exactly, that’s the deal.”

Their easy back-and-forth naturally lightened the tense atmosphere caused by the cheating incident.

Meanwhile, Ye Zhixia finally snapped out of her shock—she was about to perform a monologue alone.

“Your story is set at a bus stop on a rainy night. You missed the last bus, and just then, a phone call comes through...” Professor Zheng thought for a moment and gave her the prompt.

Ye Zhixia’s mind went blank just like the empty slip.

Her acting skills were mediocre to begin with, and this kind of improvisational monologue was totally unfamiliar.

So everyone watched as Ye Zhixia sat mechanically, pulled out her phone, and started a stilted conversation like a buzzing mosquito.

Su Nianxi rubbed her forehead. If she could send live comments now, she’d type: [Zhixia, seriously.]

Nearby, Shen Yizhou frowned at the performance on stage, quietly stood up, dragged a chair forward, inching it closer and closer...

Finally, he sat down directly opposite Ye Zhixia.

She had been buried in her “buzzing” dialogue, but when she looked up and met Shen Yizhou’s handsome face, she nearly screamed.

Shen Yizhou was polite, nodding at her: “Ignore me, keep going.”

Yet, facing this killing machine, Ye Zhixia couldn’t think of a single word and stammered helplessly.

In the audience, Lin Yue wanted to shove the microphone into Ye Zhixia’s mouth.

But she wasn’t as bold as Shen Yizhou—she had some pride.

“That’s enough, it’s fine now.” Professor Zheng finally lost patience with this farce, bowing his head to avoid looking at the stage.

Ye Zhixia, reading the crowd’s expressions, knew how poorly she had done and quietly left the stage.

Su Nianxi watched her silhouette and shook her head slightly.

The youngest sister’s stress tolerance is really not great.

After Ye Zhixia stepped down, the show entered a fifteen-minute commercial break.

During this time, mentors and trainees could take a brief rest.

Su Nianxi was about to continue her costume-matching work when her phone buzzed several times with notifications from a certain green app.

She leisurely opened the messages; they were from Sister Wang.

[Sister Wang: The result of the audition you did earlier came out—you got the female lead. Here’s the contract sent from the production team. If there are no issues, we’ll sign it.]

[Sister Wang: [“Yunli Strange Events” Cooperation Agreement.doc]]

Raising an eyebrow at the message, Su Nianxi realized she had almost forgotten about this.

The day after she arrived, her agency had already arranged an audition at the set of “Yunli Strange Events.”

At that time, the role assigned for the audition wasn’t the female lead but a supporting character in one of the story arcs.

However, after understanding the production’s setup, Su Nianxi insisted on auditioning for the lead and succeeded in gaining the director Liu Qi’s favor.

Just joking—“Yunli Strange Events” was the hottest online drama in recent years, adapted from a popular original. It was produced by a renowned director and was currently the biggest-budget costume fantasy drama in the industry.

Because of this, the competition for roles was fierce.

But who was Su Nianxi? Though she had been “crazy” for over a decade, her professional skills were undeniable, and she unquestionably secured the lead role.

At the time, she thought it would take at least another month from audition to contract signing.

Unexpectedly, only a week had passed before she received the contract.

[Sister Wang: Looks like Director Liu really values you.]

Meanwhile, Wang Linshan kept sending messages, but Su Nianxi ignored them and opened the contract to skim through it.

Just a quick glance was enough for her to spot a problem.

[The One Punch That Exploded the Earth: What’s this about being ranked equally with the other leads?]

[Sister Wang: That’s standard wording for publicity. Since the drama focuses on the main cast, it means your name will rotate in billing with the other lead actors.]

[The One Punch That Exploded the Earth: Thanks, I know what rotating billing means. My issue is that Director Liu never mentioned this.]

When she auditioned, Liu Qi had explicitly promised to single her out with a separate billing in the title.

If she hadn’t agreed quickly, the director might have even put her name under the producers’ list.

No surprise—by then, the great director Liu had endured three sleepless days dealing with capital-favored stars whose acting was more laughable than tearful, nearly breaking down.

To her at that moment, Su Nianxi was a rare shining flower rising from the muck—a last lifeline before she would have been committed to a psychiatric hospital.

How could she possibly let this go?

So Su Nianxi didn’t doubt that Liu Qi had pulled some strings behind the scenes to push her down a notch in the contract.

Staring at Wang Linshan’s “typing...” status for a long while, Su Nianxi scoffed and sent a final warning.

[The One Punch That Exploded the Earth: No matter how many people the company tries to squeeze into the production, don’t sacrifice my rights. Otherwise, I won’t just set Weibo on fire—I’ll blow up the boss’s office too.]

[The One Punch That Exploded the Earth: Friendly reminder, I’m no pushover. Don’t send me trash.]

After sending this message, Su Nianxi muted Wang Linshan’s notifications and opened another message marked unread.

[“Riding Grandma Across the Road”: Sis, what do you think of my hairstyle today? It was 20 bucks on discount. Not bad, right?]

[“Riding Grandma Across the Road”: [image.jpg]]

Su Nianxi stared at the abstract username, which matched her own, and finally remembered who it was.

Su Yuche.

The original’s half-brother.

Back then, after breaking with her family, the original had blocked all their WeChat contacts in anger, but after Su Nianxi took over, she quietly removed them from the blacklist.

The next day, she was bombarded with messages from this brother.

She replied little—partly because she had no feelings or familiarity with these relatives, and partly because he was unbearably noisy.

She glanced at the photo Su Yuche sent and replied flatly with a few words.

[The One Punch That Exploded the Earth: Looks good. You got a $250 haircut for 20 bucks. Nice deal.]