Hey, wha—what's up with this woman?! She just got on stage and already roasted the host, the judges, the guests, and the organizers—all in one go! Mimi Sun was screaming inside: Can you get a grip? Aren't you just here to cozy up to the big shots and find a sugar daddy? Pulling a stunt like this, aren't you just digging your own grave?
But wait—Mimi Sun suddenly had a flash of inspiration and started smiling to herself—actually, having this woman on stage isn’t a bad thing. You know, a story’s gotta have drama, right? You need contrast to make things interesting, you need twists for real excitement. With a weirdo like her around, doesn’t it make me look even more refined, educated, and sweet by comparison?
That’s the only way to leave a deep impression on Mr. Big Shot’s heart.
"Um..." The host was losing his cool. If he didn’t say something now, this whole thing would fall apart. He had to drag things back on track, no matter what! "Uh, now that the last nine contestants are on stage, could our three judges please comment on which of them stands out the most?"
"Host, cut the nonsense." Judge Yin crossed his arms and barked coldly, "Anyone with eyes can see who stands out. Of course it’s contestant number nine."
"Exactly." Judge Xin nodded. "And our score for her is..." As he spoke, Judge Xin raised his scorecard, and right there was a big fat "0"!
The whole place erupted—not just the guests, but all twenty-four contestants and the host, too.
Judge Yin was next to raise his scorecard—another big fat "0."
A lot of people’s eyes flickered, their expressions shifting.
Judge Ma was the last to raise his scorecard—this time, not a zero, but a big, bold "1."
Grace Guo kept her head down, but couldn’t hide the faint curve at the corner of her mouth. Mimi Sun, on the other hand, was grinning openly, eyes gleaming like a fox that just spotted fresh meat.
Ha! See that? Bet you felt that slap, huh! I thought these three were just clowns hired by the organizers, but wow, they sure know how to deliver a smackdown. Good job! What ‘equal footing’? What makes you think you can stand shoulder to shoulder with the men across from you? This world isn’t that easy, you know. If you don’t learn the hidden rules and just run around doing whatever you want, you’ll end up bloody and battered!
Look at her, acting all calm and collected in that chair—like nothing gets to her. All I can say is: nice act. But keep it up! When you finally sink to rock bottom, I’ll be climbing to the top on your bones. And you? You’ll just be a sad, pathetic loser. Oh ho ho ho!
"Oh!" The host shouted in surprise, "Judges, you’re really not holding back, huh? So contestant number nine only gets one point in total?"
Mimi Sun clenched her fists inside: Yes, yes, good job, host—keep the momentum going!
"No, you’ve got it wrong. The three of us didn’t give one point, but—" The three judges pushed their scorecards together in the middle, forming the number "100." Judge Ma pumped his fist and shouted, "It’s a perfect hundred! If anyone truly deserves first place for a stunning debut this round, it’s definitely contestant number nine!"
Judge Yin howled too: "Contestant number nine has the best attitude, most proper behavior, and the most righteous words today! Even if you ignore her looks, just look at that upright, blazing, tough-as-nails presence—like she owns the stage, fearless and bold. Hands down, the most dazzling, most explosive contestant!"
Judge Xin nodded so fast it looked like he had springs in his neck—his face was just a blur.
What?! Mimi Sun stared in disbelief. What are these three clowns up to, and why do they look like they’re about to bow down? Isn’t this the part where the organizers should be most stressed out? She glanced over at Grace Guo—sure enough, that little minx looked twitchy, too. Good, so I’m not the only one freaking out. But chill, Mimi, these three losers were never your target. Who cares what they say? My real goal is Xiao—
"I think what contestant number nine said makes a lot of sense." The young man in the main seat finally spoke: "I’ve felt something off since earlier, and now, thanks to this lady, I realize what it is. Host, organizers, to show respect, why don’t you get chairs for all the ladies?"
"Uh..." The host’s face kept twitching, totally lost. Just then, a staffer rushed over and whispered something in his ear. The host visibly relaxed: "Alright, guests and contestants, please take a twenty-minute break while we set up the chairs."
As the contestants were led offstage, a chubby organizer was sweating bullets, frantically checking documents. When the host came down, still riled up, he cornered the chubby guy: "Hey, this whole thing’s about to crash and burn. If it all goes down, don’t blame me for bad hosting!"
The chubby guy kept flipping through papers, trying to reassure him: "Don’t panic, leave it to me. I’ll figure out a way to handle that tough lady while we’ve got some downtime. This is the first year—we absolutely have to make it work!"
Suddenly, the chubby guy’s finger froze—he’d found Jill Young’s registration info. "Shandong Province, Jiping City, Jill Young? Jill Young..." He frowned, thinking hard, then his eyes widened in disbelief: "Wait, that phone number—!"
Meanwhile, Jill Young and the other female contestants returned to the lounge. The girls were fixing their makeup and hydrating, but all gave Jill odd looks. Jill just kicked back on the sofa, arms behind her head, legs crossed, ignoring everyone. She didn’t care at all—like the saying goes, when you want nothing, you fear nothing. She had zero interest in this matchmaking event, so she was tough as nails.
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She didn’t just not want anything—her only thought was to get this over with and leave. If the matchmaking event turned out fun, she’d stick around and play along. But if it was boring, or rubbed her the wrong way, she wouldn’t give anyone the time of day.
"If the organizers get petty and kick me out because I can’t stand it, then great. I’ll finish Mom’s task and free myself—best of both worlds." Jill stretched and yawned: "Ha—oof, man, this is the part where the villain organizer should show up and try to threaten or bribe me, right? Hurry up, I need an excuse to bail."
Just as she was thinking that, her phone rang. She glanced at the caller—hey, it was someone she knew. She got up, stepped outside to a quiet spot, made sure no one was around, and only then picked up. She was so careful for one reason: she had to answer in Jack Young’s voice.
"Hey, Old Nick! Long time no see—where are you getting rich these days?" It was Jack Young’s old coworker, the chubby guy from the drinking party with the Old Devil, Nick King.
"Long time no see, Jack Young. You sound pretty happy—something good happen?" Susan Morrow could tell it was a fake voice, but Nick King clearly couldn’t.
"Alright, enough chit-chat." Jill Young cut straight to the point: "If you just wanna talk, I’ll give you ten minutes. If you’ve got business, spit it out. So, what’s up?"
"Uh..." Nick King was stunned for a second—Jack Young didn’t sound quite like he remembered. Sure, he’d always been straightforward, but this was a new level. Then again, maybe it was just life experience—working under the Old Devil versus chasing your own dreams are two different vibes. People change, right? "Alright, I won’t beat around the bush. I need to confirm something with you."
"Sure, what is it?"
"I’m running a high-quality matchmaking event right now, and there’s a female contestant from your hometown—Jill Young, spelled with the character for 'brocade'. She left a phone number, and it’s your number. I wanted to ask if you know her?"
Jill Young’s face fell. "So you’re the one running this matchmaking thing..." Now that she thought about it, back at that drinking party, didn’t Nick King drunkenly say he was going home to organize a fancy matchmaking event? Small world—turns out his 'fancy' and today’s 'high-quality' were the same deal! "How’d you get so many eligible bachelors to show up?"
"I couldn’t do it alone, but I’m one of the main organizers." Nick King explained, "So you know about the event, huh? That means you’re connected to her. Is she your...?"
"Twin sister." Saying it like this, she didn’t feel guilty at all.
"So you’re fraternal twins? How come you never mentioned it before?" Nick King was baffled, then a bit exasperated. "If I’d known you had such a gorgeous sister, I wouldn’t have gotten married so early!"
"Heh, heh..." Jill Young sounded drained. "Actually, I only found out recently that I had a long-lost twin sister..."
"Why did she put your phone number on her registration?"
"My mom signed her up without asking, and when it came to the phone number, she just wrote mine by habit." Actually, Jack Young and Jill Young do have different phone numbers—that’s part of their secret management. One dual-SIM, super-long standby phone solved everything. But this time, it really was Susan Morrow’s mix-up. "Enough with the details, what do you want?"
"Well, I just wanted to ask—could you talk to your sister and ask her to tone it down a bit?" Nick King sounded a little desperate, clearly rattled by Jill Young’s earlier antics. "This is my first time running a high-end matchmaking gig. If it tanks, I’m finished—my wife and kids are counting on me! Jack, we were always tight—don’t leave me hanging!"
"Oh, come on, you think I don’t get it? My sister’s got every right to be mad. Here’s the deal: one, she’s only here because our parents made her—she doesn’t want to be here, so of course she’s in a bad mood. Two, her temper’s way worse than mine. Don’t let those rich guys and fancy heirs fool you—if they piss her off, every last one of them will end up kneeling. So with your pimp party, your john convention, it’s no wonder she’s mad!"
"Huh?" Nick King was stunned, then wailed, "Jack, you gotta help me out! I’m just a little fish, I can’t handle a dragon stirring up trouble. Please, just help me get through this matchmaking event—please, I’m begging you!"
"I’ve got an idea for you." Jill Young narrowed her eyes mischievously. "Why don’t you just kick her out? She doesn’t want to be here anyway, so if you nudge her to leave quietly, everybody wins. Trust me, she’ll go for it."
"Uh..." Nick King thought it over for a while, but finally said something that surprised Jill Young: "I don’t want to kick her out—I actually want her to stay on stage."
"Why? Isn’t she driving you nuts?"
"She is, but honestly, I kinda like it." Nick King seemed to move somewhere quieter, lowering his voice: "Jack, I’ll be real with you—I wanted to run a proper matchmaking event, you know, where people actually meet, choose each other, and maybe fall in love. But my partners shot it down, said there’s no market for that, so we switched to this beauty pageant style. I don’t like it, but what can you do? In the end, I just brought in three goofy friends to judge, hoping they’d steer things back to normal. They’re useless, but at least they keep the event on track."
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Nick King sighed and went on: "Jack, we talked about this over drinks—we’re both rebels at heart. I can’t stand how money and power run everything, either. I wanted a real matchmaking event, one for finding a wife, not a mistress. But by myself, all I could do was sneak in three goofballs to liven things up. Honestly, after hearing your sister speak, I think she’s got a point. Deep down, I really hope she stays on stage, so this matchmaking thing has a shot at being a little more honest."
Nick King seemed to take a drag on a cigarette and sighed: "I’m just an ordinary, useless guy. I’ve got a family to support, so I can’t go too far. Dreams and ideals? I don’t have the guts to stand up for them—I end up letting a girl take the lead. I know that’s lame, super lame. But even for a loser like me, hiding in the back, I still feel like I should do something."
Jill Young was silent. For a moment, she felt that Nick King was still the same stubborn, lovable chubby guy. She sighed: "Look, if she stays on stage, I can’t promise what’ll happen. Even if I talk to her and ask her to chill, who knows if it’ll work? If someone pisses her off and she blows up, and your event crashes, I’m not taking responsibility."
"Don’t!" The once-stubborn big bro instantly turned back into a wailing chubby guy: "Just make sure the event finishes, okay? I don’t want my first shot at this business to end in disaster! I worked so hard to get the famous diamond bachelor, Mr. Xiao, here—please ask your sister to cut me a little slack!"
"Stop acting cute—‘cut me a little slack’? You’re a grown man, have some shame. Fine, I’ll talk to her. But quit calling her ‘your sister’—it sounds awful."
"Then what should I call her?"
"Call her ‘Your Majesty the Queen’!"
Snap—the phone was shut off, and Jill Young’s eyes sparkled. Men with dreams who refuse to give in—they have to encourage each other, support each other, and keep pushing forward!