42. Shamelessly Conquering the World

The crowd was swelling; even during the brief time spent on makeup, a significant number of people had joined. The open audition and the second round didn’t conflict, according to Qiao Yingna—usually, thousands or even tens of thousands showed up for the Chengdu auditions. Not just from the city itself, but also from surrounding provinces and even far-off places like Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangdong. It was as if this place was a land of fortune. This time, the audition would last five days, but in reality, only about one or two hundred would make it through to the next round. So, across these five days, the second round ran in parallel. Those who passed the second round would most likely have the chance to perform on stage in the local Top Ten competition. At that point, it was almost like a concert, with tickets sold to make a profit. Combined with the hundred-yuan registration fee per person, the local division's costs—including professional judges and event organization—were already well covered. Not to mention additional advertising revenue. In short, it was a well-oiled, market-driven operation.

The open audition itself was quite straightforward, almost crude; there wasn't even background music. In a large hall, candidates lined up and took turns to sing a few bars. A row of judges seated before the show's backdrop quickly scored and gave their verdicts. Only a select few warranted discussion or debate over their selection; for the majority, a decision was rendered within a minute or two—either an invitation to the second round or a polite dismissal, all stated on the spot.

Having filled out the form, Qiao Yingna only joined the queue when she was finally called into the hall. She was suddenly struck by a peculiar feeling: was this really any different from the scene Bai Haonan had described, where rows of men stood before a panel of older women, waiting to be chosen? The only difference was that those men sold their looks, while here, she could pretend it was about talent. But in the end, wasn’t it all a kind of sale?

Her feminine charm, clearly, worked to her advantage. As soon as Qiao Yingna stepped before the judges, four or five pairs of eyes—both male and female—fixed on her with appreciative expressions. A beautiful girl was, after all, a pleasure to behold. Only those lacking confidence in their looks resorted to gaudy, attention-seeking antics. Even the two cameras in the hall zoomed in on her, one of them following her with close-up shots.

So, after Qiao Yingna sang just a few lines, the judges smiled and signaled her to stop. "Take a break, rest up for the second round this afternoon. Qiao… Yingna, yes, that’s a good name. You have real talent. Have you had professional training?"

Normally, they didn’t even bother to ask, some just waved people off with a gesture.

Qiao Yingna was prepared. "I’m a fifth-year university student, but I've honed my singing in the bars of Old Street for three years."

At that, all the judges broke into smiles. "Excellent, excellent. Do your best to make it into the Chengdu Top Ten."

Since talent shows became all the rage across China, Chengdu had become the birthplace of champions for various major programs. Whether it was the city’s laid-back, fun-loving spirit or its deep artistic roots, no one could say. But regardless of their origins, contestants emerging from Chengdu—especially those who had cut their teeth in the city’s famous bar districts—frequently snagged top honors. It seemed that if you were a bar veteran from Chengdu, your chances of success in these competitions soared.

After all, those bars had already tested your abilities.

Thus, whether they were spectators at the edge of the hall or hopeful contestants waiting in line, nearly everyone watched this poised, beautiful singer with envy; even those alternative, world-weary youths feigning indifference couldn’t conceal the jealousy in their eyes.

Everyone knew that singers who were attractive, had a good voice, and possessed experience were the most likely to succeed—the very template, as Bai Haonan might say.

Qiao Yingna showed no trace of smugness. She politely saluted the judges and bowed to the onlookers as she exited. The stage presence she’d developed in the bars extended to every detail, making even the so-called young geniuses—who clung stubbornly to their own “individuality”—feel a little ashamed.

Outside, she found Bai Haonan still sitting in the car. Qiao Yingna was surprised. “Why aren’t you chatting up the girls?” By now, it felt odd for him to just sit there quietly; surely he should be mingling with the pretty girls across the way.

But Bai Haonan surprised her even more. "I think that lady over there is interesting. I’m planning to hit on her later."

Qiao Yingna followed his pointing finger and nearly spilled her health drink all over him. "That middle-aged woman?!"

The crowd was massive, but the woman Bai Haonan meant wasn’t exactly elderly—though she was in her forties or fifties, she wore glasses and had a gentle, refined look. Clearly not a parent, for besides the event staff badge hanging on her chest, she was accompanied by a young assistant. Bai Haonan grinned. "That woman is definitely some sort of manager or executive for this show. She’s been in that area almost the whole time we’ve parked here, occasionally talking to people—sixteen times in all, always to good-looking, reliable-seeming contestants. Sometimes she even chats with parents. Some kids she takes directly to another room. Isn’t that preferential treatment?"

The medical student could hardly believe it. "You’ve been sitting here all morning watching that?"

Bai Haonan wore a truly irreverent expression. "Didn’t I tell you I enjoy people-watching? Want to see if this business is the same as ours in football. So far, looks about the same. Go get lunch on your own—I’m off to chat up that lady!"

He pushed open the car door and was gone before Qiao Yingna could protest.

She watched as Bai Haonan casually picked up a discarded flyer off the ground, circled over to where the woman stood, and with a hint of urgency in his manner, struck up a conversation—using her young assistant as his point of entry.

A true expert!

Maybe that brief week working as a gigolo really had opened a new world for Bai Haonan. His shamelessness and moral flexibility had reached new heights. In just a few exchanges, he was laughing and chatting comfortably with the woman, and as they turned to leave together, Qiao Yingna watched in disbelief as he naturally placed a hand around her waist to guide her safely down a step—just a fleeting touch, but the woman beamed like a flower in bloom.

In broad daylight!

Qiao Yingna even saw the woman reflexively reach up to tidy her hair—a sure sign she was becoming self-conscious, subconsciously wanting to make a good impression.

At that moment, Bai Haonan really did look like the mature, attractive man he’d become. His once-close-cropped hair now had a rugged edge; his carefully maintained beard, always symmetrical, had become his secret weapon for picking up girls. He’d perfected the “older man” look that so enchanted the young nurses he flirted with, and it now lent him an air of sophistication.

Bai Haonan, the rascal, was even managing to banter with both the woman and her young assistant at the same time. And then, to Qiao Yingna’s utter astonishment, the woman actually gestured for her assistant to keep her distance—far away, in fact! She even handed over her staff badge so as not to draw attention in the crowd of thousands.

This damn gigolo was putting all his lessons to practical use.

After standing at the entrance to the audition hall for a while, the pair, chatting amiably, strolled out together, Bai Haonan gallantly guiding her along the shaded path by the building, his hand never leaving her arm as they slipped quietly away.

Qiao Yingna was beginning to suspect that Bai Haonan himself was planning to sell his body at the audition!

Then her phone rang—it was Bai Haonan. "Leave by the academy’s main gate, turn right, and the fourth place you come to is a café. I’m having lunch there. If you’re free, come over. I’ll introduce you to a friend…"

What?

Uncle?!

Should she start calling that middle-aged woman “auntie” now? The college girl felt dizzy.

And who would have guessed that, on his first visit to this deserted college town during summer break, he could memorize every restaurant and café along the street in a single walk? With that kind of memory, couldn’t he have done something greater than these petty, ridiculous exploits?

Looking out at the glaring summer street, most shops closed for the holidays, Qiao Yingna couldn’t help but think that even her beloved singing now seemed like just another trivial pursuit.

When she finally stepped into what was easily the classiest café on the street, she found Bai Haonan introducing her, as if it were nothing, to “Sister Mai, the director of the Chengdu division of the talent show…”

Could anyone really believe he’d managed to pick her out by luck alone?