Chapter 61: This Time, It Really Feels Like It’s Going to Be Tough
Eight models, each having undergone a transformation, appeared one by one against the backdrop of the music. None of them were professionals; their walks were a hodgepodge, with varying levels of skill and style.
The other contestants had prepared well, bringing along everything needed for their looks. Compared to the first round, their overall performance was stable, maintaining a consistent style in line with their previous works—no major mishaps, but also no surprises.
That was until Jiang Xiaoyuan’s “Northern Beauty” took the stage.
As the host announced, “Contestant number twelve, the Northern Beauty,” laughter erupted from the audience even before she appeared.
A shadow dashed backstage, running towards the stage. Those nearby could hear him exclaiming: “It’s my turn now; why are you taking so long, girl?”
Meanwhile, a hapless stylist, struggling to keep up with the model, shouted from behind, “Maintain your poise! Don’t run; walk slowly! The paint isn’t dry yet; don’t smudge it!”
The front row couldn’t help but chuckle, and the next moment, the model stepped into the spotlight, prompting a collective “Wow!” from the crowd.
The imagined scene of a man in drag or a bear masquerading as Diao Chan[mfn]Diao Chan is a fictional character from the Chinese historical novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms. She is renowned for her beauty and intelligence and is often considered one of the Four Beauties of Ancient China.[/mfn] didn’t materialize. Contestant number twelve strode in, bare-chested, draped loosely in a flowing silk robe with a strong exotic flair.
When this model first appeared, he was unremarkable, but unexpectedly, his physique was impressive, with no excess fat around his waist and neatly arranged abdominal muscles. His body glistened as if coated in honey, with religiously themed body paint that was strikingly dynamic. His makeup was bold, with elongated eyes, and shadows on his face perfectly balanced between strength and delicacy, exuding both holiness and a hint of seduction.
He was neither a god nor a demon, neither a Buddha nor a demon, and seemed neither male nor female.
Jiang Xiaoyuan skillfully showcased the model’s tall and upright physique, embodying raw spiritual energy.
As the flashes from cameras filled the room, Jiang Xiaoyuan took a deep breath and casually followed suit.
A guest, who had surprisingly given her a high score in the first round, suddenly spoke up: “Contestant number twelve, was your look inspired by the Dunhuang murals[mfn]Dunhuang Murals are a collection of ancient Buddhist paintings found in the Mogao Caves near Dunhuang, China. These murals are considered to be among the finest examples of Buddhist art in the world, dating back as far as the 4th century AD.[/mfn]?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan nodded calmly, “Yes.”
In the back row, Jiang Bo was stunned, unable to believe that Jiang Xiaoyuan had such a clever approach.
Unlike the others, she hadn’t come with a plan or prepared anything. Many complex materials were impossible to gather in time, and the model’s appearance was a considerable disadvantage in terms of attire and accessories. Yet, she managed to completely downplay the “clothing” and “decorations” in her design and ingeniously substituted them with body paint!
Though her painting skills were unremarkable in professional circles, they left a significant impression in an semi-amateur setting.
Qi Lian turned with a smile: “What do you think? I told you so.”
Jiang Bo was silent for a while before asking: “I’ve always wondered where she learned such profound artistic skills.”
Where did her confidence, that “money is not everything” attitude, come from?
And her extensive knowledge of various prestigious brands—could she really have learned all that from magazines? How much work would that take?
Qi Lian felt a sense of satisfaction—this was a secret known only to him.
After pretending to ponder for a moment, he gave a rather unsatisfactory answer, “I don’t know; maybe it’s innate.”
The bright stage lights drowned out the murmurs from the audience. This time, the judges, guests, and audience were to score before providing comments.
When the host announced “Contestant number twelve,” Jiang Xiaoyuan noticed that the model beside her also gasped—he seemed even more nervous than she was.
The host: “First, the audience score—out of a maximum of thirty points, contestant number twelve… Wow, contestant number twelve scored twenty-nine point five!”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was momentarily stunned, not having time to celebrate.
The audience, which had not been particularly enthusiastic in the first round, had given her the highest score of the day?
Being acknowledged was a wonderful feeling, especially when recognized by so many.
The surprise came too quickly.
Jiang Xiaoyuan paused before revealing a composed smile and bowing to Dianping[mfn]Dianping (大众点评) is a popular Chinese online review and recommendation platform. It’s similar to Yelp in the United States, where users can rate and review restaurants, hotels, attractions, and other businesses.[/mfn] for their score. With this score as a foundation, she felt that even if she faltered at this stage, she couldn’t be considered a loser.
“Next, we have the special guest scores, which are: ten, eight, and uh… one.”
When the host reached the “one,” her voice dropped. It was evident whose score that was—Fan Xiaoxiao had stubbornly disregarded her own and others’ faces.
Boos erupted around the venue.
Jiang Xiaoyuan chuckled sarcastically, not surprised by the result.
The host quickly cleared her throat: “Finally, we have the scores from the competition committee’s judging panel, with a total of forty points. Contestant number twelve scored…”
The host paused slightly. Jiang Xiaoyuan’s previously calm heart began to race again, and that ominous feeling struck her once more; in the next second, her premonition came true.
The host said, “Twenty-nine points.”
Except for the oddity that was Fan Xiaoxiao, who disregarded common decency, the default minimum score in preliminary rounds was seven points. With four judges, twenty-nine points implied that at least three of them had given Jiang Xiaoyuan the lowest score.
The audience that had booed earlier suddenly realized they had jumped the gun.
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s heart, which had been hanging in the air, plummeted—just as she hadn’t expected such a high audience score, she also hadn’t anticipated such a low score from the judges.
The scores were like a seesaw, playing a game of “up and down,” adding endless intrigue and suspense to this previously unremarkable preliminary round.
Unlike Fan Xiaoxiao, the judges, faced with this situation, needed to send a representative to explain.
The representative was the wife of an investor Qi Lian had met privately, sitting upright in the judging seat, looking exhausted, her hands moving up and down as if she were knitting.
“The judges gave this score after careful consideration,” said the knitting expert. “Contestant number twelve is extremely talented, and her various performances have been surprising, often bringing us joy. However, after discussion, the judging panel believes her work in the second round strayed significantly off-topic.”
The host learned from past lessons and tightly grasped her microphone this time, not allowing Jiang Xiaoyuan the chance to argue with the judges.
However, just because Jiang Xiaoyuan had no opportunity to speak didn’t mean others didn’t. Suddenly, a guest who had remained silent, quietly giving Jiang Xiaoyuan a perfect score, spoke up: “Sorry, I have a different opinion.”
Among the three guests, Fan Xiaoxiao had the most presence, taking up space like a giant, while another guest often spoke the most, giving various unimpressive and middle-of-the-road comments and constantly flattering Miss Fan.
Only this one female guest, with short hair and an unremarkable appearance, dressed in a rough wool coat, embodied the image of an ordinary middle-aged woman, making it hard to tell she was in the fashion industry.
She sat silently in the corner, rarely offering comments, simply scoring quietly. Though the host had introduced her, others had forgotten who she was.
Ignoring Fan Xiaoxiao’s pale face, the short-haired guest turned to the judges: “I want to ask each of you judges, what kind of thought process do you have for the ‘Northern Beauty’ look? Or in your mind, what should the ‘correct look’ be? A burly man dressed as a woman?”
The knitting expert laughed awkwardly: “Well, that’s not…”
The guest pressed on: “Then what is it?”
Another judge quickly took the microphone, trying to smooth things over: “Well, we believe that costume design is a very subjective art that prioritizes expression. For the same topic, everyone will have their own interpretation, so there’s no need to…”
The short-haired guest interjected: “So you have no clear ideas yourselves. How then do you use your own vague ‘answers’ to judge whether someone has strayed off-topic?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan did not know this guest and was unsure why she was so fiercely defending her.
Then, the short-haired guest shot Jiang Xiaoyuan a cold glance and said firmly, “I can see that you have weaknesses in attire, but imperfections do not diminish the brilliance, and in this round, you successfully covered that shortcoming. Thus, I gave you a high score. I know absolute fairness doesn’t exist, but for a publicly funded competition, bringing so many people here and conducting three rounds with a trinity scoring method, if you can’t even guarantee basic fairness, then I can’t fathom why I was invited to sit here.”
After finishing her statement, the guest dropped the microphone, grabbed her coat from the chair, and stood up, draping it over herself: “Since the competition has come to this, I don’t need to score anymore; my task is complete. Enjoy your time.”
With that, she marched out, carrying her handbag, looking down on the world around her.
The host: “…”
The guest judges and the contestants on stage, lined up like dried salted fish: “…”
The audience erupted with excitement, as if ignited by a shout. Halfway through the performance, the guests left—what a bizarre turn of events!
The media’s lights ignited a new wave of flashing madness; the scene was spiraling out of control. The host on the stage wanted to cry but had no tears and thought: “I can’t keep this up; I need a raise!”
After the second round, the competition was forced to stop. The front stage and backstage were in chaos. Jiang Xiaoyuan, a model with an aura that was neither divine nor demonic, posed in front of a mirror for a while and then turned to Jiang Xiaoyuan, asking, “Hey, girl, how do you wash this thing when you take it home?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
She shrugged helplessly, unsure whether this model would receive her three hundred yuan. The organizing committee might have already written her off as a mouse-dropping since the day she participated in the preliminaries; the entire regional preliminaries hadn’t settled down since then.
Twenty minutes later, the organizing committee held an emergency meeting and agreed to partially consider the opinions of the guests who had already left, raising Jiang Xiaoyuan’s score from “twenty-nine points” to “thirty-three points,” which was a more moderate score. After all, she had strayed too far from the norm and couldn’t compete with others’ meticulous preparations.
The four contestants with the highest scores in the first two rounds advanced, while the bottom four were essentially eliminated, with only one chance for resurrection through public judging.
This time, Lady Luck abandoned Jiang Xiaoyuan. Her scores from the two rounds were low, landing her in sixth place, and she had to leave the stage while others were giving their advancement speeches.
Backstage, only a few staff members remained; someone placed a cup of water in front of her and then walked away. In the far corner was a small window, and the sunlight was starting to dim. After a rollercoaster of emotions, she sat down and realized her back was drenched in cold sweat, soaking through her thin shirt.
Yet the results were still unsatisfactory.
If she ultimately didn’t make it to the finals, their studio’s development in an unfamiliar city would be challenging. Could merely relying on advertising win them a foothold in a place with rising costs?
How many resources could the investor Qi Lian provide for them to flood the market with ads?
For a moment, Jiang Xiaoyuan thought despondently that it would be great if Teacher Jiang could personally take the stage instead of Fan Xiaoxiao.
She felt like a paralyzed person, unable to walk a straight line along the correct path. If she caught a little wind at her back, she would become wildly ambitious, feeling as if she could go anywhere across the land, yet when faced with a slight setback, she felt utterly worthless and believed she was devoid of any talent.
These reflections only came to her in hindsight; in a specific situation, she could never grasp her mental state no matter what.
“Maybe I have some ability,” Jiang Xiaoyuan thought, “but it’s just not enough.”
At that moment, the event staff came in.
The staff said: “Attention, four contestants! The final round of the competition is about to begin. For you, this last round isn’t an elimination round but a resurrection round, and there’s only one spot left for the finals. You all know the topic. Models, please use the ones you brought in the first round…”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Excuse me, what’s the topic? I don’t know.”
The staff’s mouth twitched, looking as if they had been slapped. All the contestants turned to look at Jiang Xiaoyuan with a strange gaze… it was hard to tell whether it was friendly or malicious; nonetheless, Jiang Xiaoyuan felt like a primary school student who had walked into the wrong classroom for a brief moment.
Her expression remained calm and composed, and her back involuntarily straightened. She said quietly, “What’s the topic, please?”
“Time travel.” For some reason, the staff appeared somewhat embarrassed under her gaze, lowering their voice as they hurriedly pulled out a piece of paper from their pocket. “Please choose one person you most want to meet through time travel, use at least one special effect technique, create the image of that character in your mind, and tell the model what you would most like to say to that person.”
Special effects—
Great. After hearing this, Jiang Xiaoyuan calmly nodded, feeling that this time it was really going to be tough.
However, she ultimately refused to leave in a panic. In the audience, besides her rivals, there were also her teachers and someone she admired. Not even the Lighthouse Virus Mingguang could make her surrender; how could anything else?
After the host announced the resurrection method, Jiang Bo also furrowed his brows deeply, but he didn’t mention anything about leaving again.
The products for the third round quickly emerged. The theme of “time travel” wasn’t particularly interesting, with only two directions to choose from: either historical figures or future themes. More contestants chose historical themes because image materials and portraits provided ample reference for styling.
Soon, there were characters like Empress Wu Zetian, a cross-dressing Newton, and a Terminator from a future timeline… along with Jiang Xiaoyuan.
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s model was idle backstage. She instructed the staff to place a full-length mirror in the center of the stage. In the midst of everyone’s confusion, she hunched her back and slowly made her way from the side of the stage, somehow managing to appear smaller as if she had shrunk a size.
When she lifted her head, she revealed a face lined with wrinkles, her hair gray and tied into a messy bun at the back of her head.
The prompt required at least one special effect technique, and Jiang Xiaoyuan chose the most basic elderly makeup, applying it to her own face. She stood before the full-length mirror, “trembling” as she extended her hand to stick the model’s number tag on the “old lady” in the mirror.
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