From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL)-Chapter 82: The Stage, The Tyrant, and the First Battle

Sian had an enjoyable day, even joining some elderly folks in fishing. As the day drew to a close, he headed back to the villa, knowing the competition was about to begin. The entertainment program insisted that all participants be present, seated among the audience on stage.

Of course, if you’re wondering about that annoying roommate, the matter was simple—Sian had given him a deathly glare before completely ignoring him and walking away. But not before casting him a final, warning glance that practically screamed, "You’re dead if you follow me." And just like that, Sian secured himself a peaceful, undisturbed day, free from any nuisances.

The first round of the competition began, and the stage was impeccably set. Everything, from the audience seating to the judges’ panel and the strategically placed cameras, was meticulously prepared.

Although the performances were being broadcast live, the audience had no say in voting or judging at this stage. Advancing to the next round depended solely on the decisions and critiques of the five judges.

There were five of them—three men and two women. The most renowned among them was the Emperor of Cinema, Liang Zixuan, an Oscar-winning actor. Despite his dazzling career in acting, Liang Zixuan came from a prestigious family of musicians, all known for their extraordinary talent. He was no exception. He had won numerous prestigious awards, including the Golden Lotus Medal—an accolade no one under sixty had ever won before. Yet, he had claimed it at just twenty years old. Liang Zixuan’s sheer talent had always been an intimidating force in the music industry, earning him immense respect in both his fields of expertise.

A hefty sum had been paid to bring him onto this program as a judge. However, there was one major drawback to this Emperor. He was an absolute tyrant when it came to his work—he accepted nothing less than perfection. Whenever he appeared as a judge or was asked to critique an artist’s work, his sharp tongue was merciless, crushing the confidence of every beginner who dared to stand before him. He had never once praised a performance, especially in the field of music. If he wasn’t criticizing a singer’s voice, he was nitpicking their technique, vocal range, or even their stage movements.

With such an impossible-to-please judge, the program was fully prepared for him to reject every contestant. But that didn’t matter. His presence alone brought the show immeasurable prestige. As for his inevitable stream of criticisms? That, too, was inconsequential—there were still four other judges. Securing three votes was enough to advance to the next round. Of course, since there was competition among the five judges themselves, the contestant with the highest approval rate would ultimately win, while the other four would be eliminated.

The second male judge was Kong Yusheng. Though his fame couldn’t rival the Emperor of Cinema, he was a highly talented singer who had risen to stardom over the past five years. Every album he released had been a major success. With his deep, rich voice and exceptional vocal control, he was both respected and admired. His clean public image and remarkable talent had propelled his career forward. Even inviting him onto this program had been no easy feat—had it not been for the director’s extensive connections, securing his presence would have been impossible.

Then, there was Long Weiji. As his name suggested, he was a strong man—not metaphorically, but physically. One look at him, and you’d think he was either a boxer or an Olympic athlete. His sturdy, muscular frame was in stark contrast to the soft, delicate appearances most male singers and actors preferred. His slightly tanned skin only added to his rugged charm. He was the best and most famous rapper in the country, having collaborated with international artists, which had given him worldwide recognition. Despite specializing in rap, his vocal abilities were just as impressive as any other singer’s. He was particularly popular among the younger audience, especially among teenage boys.

As for the remaining two judges, they were both women—Dong Linrui and Liu Yufei. Both were stunningly beautiful, so much so that it was hard to believe they were in their thirties. Each had built a remarkable career, possessing soft, warm voices that enchanted listeners. However, since they both belonged to the same category of singers, they had been rivals for nearly a decade, unable to stand the sight of each other.

When the live broadcast of the first round began, the five judges were introduced. Sian sat among the remaining participants in the audience section. With each judge’s name being announced, the venue erupted with deafening cheers and applause. Meanwhile, Sian remained utterly still, appearing noticeably detached amidst the lively atmosphere surrounding him.

"Are you tired?"

The voice was gentle, but there was no need to turn around to recognize it. It belonged to none other than Jiao Liangchen. That was the name of the mysterious roommate—someone Sian could never quite figure out. Why was this man always sticking to him like glue and treating him so kindly? After all, Sian clearly remembered that cold, indifferent expression Jiao Liangchen had worn when they first met.

Not that it mattered. As long as the man didn’t bother him, Sian had no interest in prying into his affairs. He had always believed in the saying: Curiosity killed the cat. A cat had nine lives—he had only one. Staying away from this walking time bomb seemed like the wisest choice.

Unfortunately, the bomb had latched onto him, refusing to leave. And Sian’s patience was beginning to wear thin.

Turning his head slightly, he cast a dark, unreadable gaze at the man who had somehow settled beside him without him noticing. However, the other seemed entirely unfazed by the silent warning in those beautiful yet intimidating eyes. Instead, he met Sian’s stare directly, his own black eyes filled with warmth.

Sian: "..."

Fine. His anger had completely dissipated as if someone had doused it with cold water. Whatever. As long as Jiao Liangchen didn’t harbor any ill intentions, Sian decided to let him be. Engaging in arguments with fools would only make him one himself.

The performances weren’t long, each lasting about two and a half minutes. After every performance, the judges shared their opinions, offering feedback and advice to help the contestants improve. All except for one.

At the end of every performance, the first judge to speak was always Liang Zixuan. And each time, his face carried an expression of utmost disgust, as if he were being subjected to pure torture. His verdict was never more than a single, cutting remark:

"Awful voice."

If asked to provide constructive criticism, he would either say, "Go back and study music from scratch,"—which was already considered merciful—or, at worst, "If this is your level, leave the music industry. You’re not suited for it."

Some contestants, especially the younger girls, burst into tears on stage, their shame and disappointment overwhelming them. In Sian’s opinion, the sight of their makeup running down their faces reminded him of the zombies from a horror movie he had once watched with Lan Qisheng.

He understood that girls loved and needed makeup to highlight their femininity. But what were those men doing with such bold, flashy lipstick?

One contestant, in particular, nearly made Sian vomit up the fish he had eaten earlier. The man had been dressed in lace, with ridiculously thick makeup and bright red lipstick. Unable to stomach the sight, Sian instinctively covered his eyes—a small gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by the cameras.

Within seconds, the audience erupted into laughter, entertained by his bewildered yet strangely endearing expressions.

[Sian’s expression is just too adorable. The way he covered his eyes with the back of his hand... Why didn’t I know he was this cute?]

[Hahaha! Sian’s face is literally saying he’s about to throw up. LOL.]

[I’m laughing so hard. Looks like Sian is not a fan of makeup.]

[Obviously! Look at his face—I can tell he hasn’t even put on foundation, yet he’s still so stunning.]

[Don’t remind me, sister! Sian’s skin is so pale and looks incredibly smooth. Look at those long lashes and his naturally pink lips! A face like his doesn’t need any cosmetics—if anything, makeup would only ruin his beauty.]

[No, no, sis! I’m sure if Sian wore makeup, he’d look like an immortal beauty! Ahhh, I’m a professional makeup artist—I wish I could do his makeup just once! I bet he’d be an absolute masterpiece.]

Jiāo Liàngchén sat beside Sian, noticing the clear look of disgust on his face as he watched the man on stage. He couldn’t help but curl his lips into a small smile.

At first, he had assumed that Sian was just another idol—someone who made a living off his looks and little else. But after digging deeper into his background, he was genuinely astonished. How could he not be? He had seen footage of Sian fighting in the forest, saving countless lives.

As someone who deeply loved his country and worked tirelessly to protect it and its people, Jiāo Liàngchén was more than pleased to discover that Sian came from the same background.