Chapter 21: A Few Words on the Protagonist—After All, I’m Just a Backup Dancer

Almost everyone was dazzled by Bai Ling's appearance.

The entertainment industry is brimming with beautiful women, so many they seem as countless as fish crossing the river. Yet few are as striking and memorable as Bai Ling. Though the performance had yet to begin, she was already the true focal point, the absolute center of attention. Dressed in simple white, she effortlessly overshadowed Wen Yan and the other vibrant, youthful girls. Wen Yan herself was considered a top beauty, but beside Bai Ling, she paled into insignificance.

The judges, who originally had little expectation for the show, along with the myriad staff present, found themselves eagerly anticipating what was to come.

On stage, as the accompaniment music began, the performance officially started. Wen Yan and her group began showcasing their vocals one after another. They had chosen a popular ancient-style song from recent years, one known for its ornate and flowery lyrics. While the song wasn’t particularly deep, its melody carried a touch of classical charm, making it catchy and widely beloved among the younger generation.

The main reason for choosing this song was that all six members could sing it. They each took turns singing, striving to display their vocal prowess before the camera. Unfortunately, none of them—including Wen Yan—were professional singers. Dancing, acting, and singing all demand a high level of professional skill, but singing and acting are more accessible to the average audience, whose ability to judge is sharper than with dance. Frankly, someone could get applause simply by moving their body on stage, showing off their figure. But singing is different.

As soon as Wen Yan and the others opened their mouths, the three professionals—Leng Yan, Wu Shanyue, and Wen Huaiyu—furrowed their brows. The performance was mediocre, even subpar. Not only did these three experts notice it, even Liang Zhen’s expression shifted slightly. It was clear: expectations for girl groups should not be set too high, especially for this type of show. As long as it was passable, it would do.

But then, as the singing and accompaniment filled the air, Bai Ling began to move. The instant she acted, all eyes were drawn to her. It proved that Bai Ling’s insistence on switching to an ancient-style song was a wise choice. Perhaps it was less favorable for Wen Yan and the others, but for Bai Ling herself, it was a stroke of genius.

The melody was graceful, carrying a hint of windswept melancholy, as if transporting the audience to a mountain woodland filled with birdsong and fragrant flowers.

Bai Ling stepped forward, seeming to glide through the forest like a dancing sprite, impossible to look away from. In a sudden flash, the sword gleamed! Though it was merely a prop, in that moment she gave the impression of a heroic swordswoman, her sword moving like a shadow. With a flick of her sleeve, the long sword spun, elegantly creating two blossoms of swordplay. Then Bai Ling leapt, her figure soaring, displaying her perfect form in midair. Sword and person moved as one. Her white robes billowed!

When she landed, her movements were concise yet extraordinarily free. Though she was a woman, she radiated an indomitable spirit. That brief moment was enough to take everyone’s breath away, holding them spellbound.

As Wen Yan and the others' voices twisted and turned, Bai Ling's movements never ceased. Remarkably, all of this was improvised on the spot; Bai Ling had never rehearsed with them. In fact, this was her first time wielding a prop sword and performing a sword dance. Yet, it was a special skill granted by the system. Even seasoned martial artists would be stunned by Bai Ling’s performance.

Following the rhythm and song, Bai Ling sometimes resembled a fluttering butterfly, the sword seeming to become an extension of her body, flowing with her every move. Sometimes threading the needle, sometimes sword blossoms appearing, sometimes a gentle touch of the blade like a dragonfly skimming the water. Her footwork and technique matched the beat perfectly, everything so natural that no trace of performance could be seen.

It was as if everyone had entered a parallel world, witnessing a true swordswoman practicing her craft. Every movement was crisp and precise. Every step was calculated. Everything was just right.

Until the accompaniment faded and Wen Yan and the others' singing drew to a close. Bai Ling spun, her sword twirling around her wrist in a beautiful flourish, finally resting behind her back, its tip pointed upward, as straight and upright as her spine. The blade trembled slightly, but Bai Ling’s strength kept it steady, a beauty of power amidst chaos.

“Clap!”
“Clap, clap!”
Applause erupted throughout the recording hall. Not only the four judges and two guest commentators, but all the staff members spontaneously began to clap.

They exhaled deeply, as if Bai Ling’s sword dance had allowed them to finally relax.

“Bravo!”
Someone cheered, and discussion broke out everywhere.

“How beautiful!”
“What a cool dance!”
“Is this sword dancing? I’ve never seen it before, it’s incredible.”
“How could you not have seen it? Didn’t the big shows like the Spring Festival Gala have similar performances when we were kids?”
“But young people nowadays, who still does this? Bai Ling is about our age, and she can do this?”
“Is it possible she’s been training since childhood?”
“Never heard of it.”
“Whatever the case, I’ve learned something new today.”
“I wish I could learn… but I’m sure I’d never master it.”
“Watching her, I actually thought of Yu Ji dancing the sword for Xiang Yu!”
“Damn, you thought of that too? Me too! Bai Ling is so beautiful—if someone said she’s the real Yu Ji, I’d believe it.”
“Haha, you’re all thinking about that, but I was imagining myself as Xiang Yu.”
“Get outta here!”

On stage, Wen Yan and the other girl group members’ faces turned noticeably sour. They’d sung the whole way through—couldn’t they get a little attention? What was the meaning of this? Wasn’t this supposed to be their stage? Why had Bai Ling stolen all the glory herself?

But what followed was even more dramatic. Liang Zhen unhesitatingly activated his microphone, “Bai Ling, you truly surprised me.”

“Though I’m a rough guy, I’ve worked with martial artists before. With your skill, you could easily play a swordswoman or the female lead in a martial arts drama!”

Beside him, Wen Huaiyu chimed in, “Liang’s right.”

“Bai Ling, who did you learn this from? Can we chat after the show? I know a few old-timers who specialize in ancient dance—maybe I can introduce you.”

Leng Yan coughed, wanting to speak as well. At this moment, not saying something felt unbearable—he had to cough!

Seeing this, Bai Ling couldn't help but smile wryly, “Teachers, please give your feedback to the real stars.”

“I was just the supporting dancer, after all.”