Chapter 16: The Audition Begins

After watching “Interstellar Singer,” nearly everyone across the galaxy flocked to the official homepage of “Interstellar 101” on StarNet.

But when they clicked in, they were all left dumbfounded.

On the official homepage of “Interstellar 101,” there was nothing but a deep, star-studded sky and a massive countdown: [Earth Time: Begins in Three Days].

This… No one could make sense of what the Earthlings were trying to do.

But everyone’s curiosity had already been piqued. The thought of having to wait another seventy-two hours of Earth time—aliens who had always thought Earth’s timekeeping was far too short finally experienced what it meant for a day to drag on like a year.

[Why are Earthlings so good at keeping people in suspense… What exactly is this talent show supposed to be?]

[I went to ask my Earth friends, but none of them would tell me. So mean!]

[I kind of like it, though. It feels so lively now.]

[I feel the same way. I can’t even imagine how I got by before. Now there’s something new to look forward to every day—it’s never boring anymore.]

The tone of the comment section shifted in an instant, with aliens marveling at how Earthlings could come up with so many novel ideas.

Seeing the aliens’ sincere praise, Cen Lan could only think they were far too naive.

Well, let them enjoy themselves while they can. Soon, their peaceful days would be over.

·

In Star Selection Town, the forty girls were also filled with anticipation for the start of the talent show. After all, they were the chosen ones, and compared to others, they felt an extra measure of nervousness and unease.

Some couldn’t sleep and would go to the practice room to dance and sing, trying to distract themselves. Others, more carefree, went about their days as usual, completely unaffected by the atmosphere around them.

And so, the countdown entered its second day.

·

The homepage of “Interstellar 101” changed from the original starry sky to a newly opened virtual space. In this space were the silhouettes of forty girls, though no interaction was possible. Besides the reminder that there were still two days until the talent show began, there was now an additional line:

[If you like someone, choose her! Her future will be paved by you!]

·

Upon reading this, the people of the galaxy began to piece things together. The implication was that there were forty candidates here, and the talent show would involve selecting from among them, with the selection process determined by the audience. But then, what would the chosen ones do? Why should I pick her?

They still didn’t understand what the Earthlings were up to. This kind of voting to select people—hadn’t “Interstellar Singer” already done that once before? Why do it again?

Could it be that the Earthlings had run out of ideas?

Even so, the discussion around “Interstellar 101” continued to heat up.

·

On the third day, an announcement appeared on the official homepage of “Interstellar 101.”

[Welcome to the grand, immersive interstellar talent show! The purpose of this program is to select the most outstanding contestants from across the major star systems, to form a six-member idol group—the Interstellar Girls—composed of six young women!

This selection includes forty contestants from a total of five star systems, including Earth. Each has been carefully chosen for her exceptional talent, and the votes in your hands will determine who stays and who goes. Dear Producers of the People, let us create this miracle group together with your own hands!

At the same time, the official fan club is now open for registration. All Producers of the People are welcome to join the “Interstellar 101” family!]

The rest of the announcement detailed the voting rules.

·

After a brief silence, the comment section exploded.

[Why can’t I make sense of these voting rules at all?!]

[Wait, isn’t voting just casting your vote? Why are there tasks involved now?!]

[You get a fixed number of votes each day? Not like last time, when everyone only had one vote?]

[Why do the votes reset? And there’s a difference between regular users and VIP members?!]

[I can’t do this, I feel like my brain is about to short-circuit… Is there a genius who can summarize this for me?]

[To put it simply, there are two types of votes. Fixed votes: regular users get three per day, VIPs get six, and these reset daily. Task votes: you can earn up to six per day by completing tasks, and these can be saved up. But you can’t cast more than twelve votes per day in total.]

[Thank you, genius above! I finally get it now!]

[I can’t believe this talent show has such a complicated voting mechanism. So is this a show that tests your intelligence? If you can’t figure out the voting, you can’t even vote!]

[Surely not… Isn’t this supposed to be entertainment?]

[Is everyday life for Earthlings always this rich and colorful?]

[Not really… It’s only been like this recently.]

[It’s only since Youjian Entertainment was established that there’s been so much fun… No, so many novel things happening.]

[Youjian Entertainment is amazing! I’ll love Youjian Entertainment forever!]

·

When the day of the talent show’s launch finally arrived, the people of the galaxy returned once more to the official homepage of “Interstellar 101,” only to find it had changed again.

Within the virtual space, the virtual images of forty girls, each with their own unique style, were now illuminated. From the Porlu Star System, where vines and plants twined around their bodies, to the Crystal Song Star System, where crystals beneath the skin shimmered with every breath—each was different in form, yet all radiated the dazzling light of those chasing their dreams.

At the same time, these virtual images were now interactive.

If you chose to view, you could browse related information: name, age, star system, personal hobbies, favorite color, and so on. In addition, there was a display of individual talents, as well as a direct full-holo video of the talent show’s theme song, “With You in the Future.”

It was only at this moment that the people of the galaxy finally understood what the Earthlings wanted.

They wanted an idol group created by the hands of the people of the galaxy themselves—not one endorsed and admired by Federation elites or star system nobility, but one chosen entirely by the people, belonging to the people of the galaxy.

The number of VIP members at Youjian Entertainment soared to an unprecedented figure, and the number of registered members in the official fan club of “Interstellar 101” was equally staggering.

·

Earth’s Department of External Communications, Deputy Minister’s Office.

Looking at the data chart rising in a perfectly straight line, Cen Lan closed the virtual screen with satisfaction and stood up, ready to head to the conference room.

This meeting was a bit unusual—the chair would be Feng Jingyu.

According to her, this arrangement required a master of macro-level coordination, a mathematician proficient in model deduction, and a meeting to explain the specifics of execution.

After some thought, Cen Lan decided to hold the meeting in the Department of External Communications’ conference room. It was safe, convenient, and left nothing to worry about.

The meeting was set for 10:00 a.m.—a time chosen by Feng Jingyu herself, who was notorious for staying up all night. She knew this meeting would run long, so, for once, she had gone to bed early the night before.

Cen Lan had just opened her door when she saw her secretary, Xiao He, standing outside.

“Is there something urgent?” Cen Lan recalled she had just told Xiao He that unless it was urgent, she was not to be disturbed before the meeting.

“Deputy Minister, logistics just sent word—the meeting room you reserved has been changed to Room 308,” Xiao He said.

“Room 308? Do they want to listen in?” Cen Lan frowned.

“No, it’s because Professor Lu will be attending,” Xiao He replied.

The “Professor Lu” in question was a renowned scholar who had devised macroeconomic policies for the government many times, with countless students and widespread respect.

“Why would Professor Lu want to attend this meeting?” Cen Lan had originally arranged for an economics professor, also highly experienced and more than capable of meeting Feng Jingyu’s needs.

Xiao He leaned in closer to Cen Lan and lowered her voice, “It’s because of Professor Lu’s last disciple.”

A face flashed quickly through Cen Lan’s mind. “What happened to him?”

“Recently, the promotion strategy in the Aurum region failed, so they reached out to us for help. The person in charge was that very disciple.”

“He failed as well?” Cen Lan’s tone was displeased.

“Not exactly. But compared to the dazzling numbers produced by Ms. Feng, no one would consider themselves successful.”

A fleeting smile appeared on Cen Lan’s face. “Proud and ambitious. If everyone were like Jingyu, what would all our years of struggle have meant? Since Professor Lu volunteered, there’s no reason to turn him away. All we want is for this project to be implemented as soon as possible—whoever helps, it’s the same. Just don’t mention any of this to Jingyu.”

“Understood, Deputy Minister.” Xiao He withdrew.

“Let’s go. Jingyu should be at the entrance by now. We’ll go meet her.”

·

Although Feng Jingyu had lived nearby for some time, she had never had the chance to enter the government complex. She hadn’t expected that an ordinary pre-battle strategy meeting would give her a glimpse into this vast institution.

Seeing Cen Lan waiting at the entrance, Feng Jingyu hurried over in three quick steps, took Cen Lan’s hand, and smiled. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not long. Let’s go.” Cen Lan reversed her grip and led Feng Jingyu along beside her.

Cen Lan brought Feng Jingyu to the door marked 308, knocked lightly twice, and then pushed the door open.

Three people were already seated inside. The one in the middle was the oldest, looking to be around seventy. The other two were much younger, neither appearing over forty.

Cen Lan introduced them to Feng Jingyu one by one.

“The gentleman in the middle is Professor Lu Lin, an economist. On the left is Professor Wang Pei, a young mathematician. On the right is Professor Zhang Ming, a psychologist.”

·

Feng Jingyu didn’t ask why there was now a psychologist present. She habitually walked to the presenter’s spot, tapped her fingertip lightly on her terminal, and projected a virtual screen into the center of the room. The cold light fell across her expressionless face.

“Time is limited, so let’s get straight to the point.” Her voice was clear and calm, yet carried an undeniable authority. “For political reasons, the debut lineup on group formation night must be ‘2 Earth + 4 Alien.’ To achieve this, we need to conduct macro-level control of the vote counts.”

She enlarged the timeline of “Interstellar 101,” the light band flowing across the screen.

“Professor Wang, your task is to build a dynamic prediction model. In the first stage—the silent period, when the voting channel has not yet opened—I need you to use the registration data of the three types of members to calculate our total voting base.” Feng Jingyu’s gaze shifted to the young mathematician. Wang Pei nodded unconsciously, fingers already recording notes on his personal terminal.

·

“After the initial stage, when voting begins, your model must start tracking the flow of votes, predicting the distribution and accumulation of votes after each performance, with the margin of error kept within an acceptable threshold.”

“After the first performance,” Feng Jingyu’s gaze fell on the elder in the center, “we’ll launch a ‘vote clearing’ campaign. At that point, Professor Lu, we’ll need you to oversee the big picture, using economic models to guide the flow and prevent votes from becoming overly concentrated or ineffectively scattered.”

Lu Lin leaned forward slightly, hands clasped on the table. “Ms. Feng, how will you ensure these ‘campaigns’ can precisely trigger fan behavior and achieve the clearing objective?”

Feng Jingyu’s lips curled in a knowing smile. “Professor Lu, you study the laws of the market. But a talent show is a furnace that keeps people ‘hooked’—fans will do anything for their idols, even things you’d consider ‘irrational’ economically.”

A glimmer of understanding flashed in Lu Lin’s eyes. He leaned back slowly in his chair, saying no more. The psychologist, Zhang Ming, sitting beside him, was practically holding his breath, greedily recording every word and gesture of Feng Jingyu.

·

“Ms. Feng,” Wang Pei continued, his tone more cautious than before, “how should I allocate the total predicted votes to each contestant?”

“That question is at the heart of our prediction system.” Feng Jingyu switched the display to show the structure of the official fan club’s virtual community. “In the official fan club of ‘Interstellar 101’ on StarNet, there will be individual community sections for each contestant. Every action fans take here—signing in, redeeming virtual accessories, using titles—leaves a data footprint. By analyzing these footprints, we can accurately determine their voting tendencies. These are the most important variables in your model.”

Admiration flashed in Wang Pei’s eyes. He nodded solemnly. “I understand.”

Lu Lin looked at Feng Jingyu, his gaze now full of appreciation. He spoke in a deep voice, “Ms. Feng, rest assured. We will give our full support to ensure the outcome on group formation night.”

“Thank you for your support,” Feng Jingyu nodded.

From the start of the meeting, Cen Lan had said nothing, simply observing quietly. Now, a faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips.

She knew that when Professor Lu returned, he would surely have a lesson or two to impart to his last disciple.