The Hit Song of This Life Is Revenge - Chapter 31

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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In this lifetime, hits are my revenge.
Chapter 31
A two-week filming hiatus.
Although official schedules ground to a halt, Lee Jae-i visited Kang Ki-baek’s CEO’s Office to prepare for the next mission.
When she pressed down on the handle, the door swung open as smoothly as a quiet sigh.
“Wow…”
Perhaps she had been harboring some preconceived notions.
The CEO’s space was nowhere near as flamboyant as she had anticipated.
The moment one stepped into Yoo Young-jae’s office, walls crammed with plaques and trophies practically hit them in the face.
In stark contrast, a refined sense of order dominated this CEO’s Office.
Jae-i’s eyes naturally tracked the subtle interplay of light and shadow across the room.
Upon a shelf, a few black-and-white photographs silently held the light.
They were candid snapshots capturing the brilliant onstage moments of various artists.
‘I wonder if my picture will end up up there too.’
The thought popped into her head simply because the spot at the very end happened to be vacant.
She drifted closer to the display, quietly admiring the radiant milestones of the singers who came before her.
Next, her gaze shifted toward his desk.
It lacked even a common nameplate; a lone monitor sat entirely abandoned in the center.
‘There’s really nothing here.’
The lack of decor made it feel empty, but whether the room simply mirrored its owner, the atmosphere was strangely devoid of any chill.
Jae-i carefully pulled out a chair at the central conference table and sat down.
Her mind wandered back to the director’s final cue that had wrapped up the latest shoot.
‘Two weeks…’
The production team had postponed announcing the results, citing the time needed to tally the audience votes.
Jae-i read right through their intentions.
‘They want us to stay on edge.’
That alone would be enough to keep the trainees agonizing day after day, yet the show hadn’t dropped a single hint regarding the theme of the next shoot.
The sheer bewilderment that would wash over the trainees’ tense faces as they walked onto the set.
By now, she could vividly picture exactly where the production crew would angle their cameras to catch those raw reactions.
‘Hmm…’
The CEO was currently away for an external meeting.
While she waited for him, Jae-i unlocked her Cell Phone and browsed the internet.
From the next mission onward, viewer votes would factor into the scores, making it crucial for her to read the current trends.
The online community forums displayed a chaotic mix of scathing criticism and worshipful praise.
Everyone else was probably letting their happiness hinge on these fickle comments.
[I seriously don’t get this season of I Am a Singer 3.]
Jae-i naturally clicked on a post with a particularly provocative title.
[The whole point of I Am a Singer is to discover talented vocalists. I’m not trying to downplay dancing, but shouldn’t a singer be good at singing first and foremost? It makes zero sense that out of all the seasons, this is the only one that randomly kicked off with a dance battle.
└ So I’m not the only one who felt that way.
└ Ratings are all that matter lol, why are you guys overanalyzing it?
└ The point is it goes against the show’s core premise. Is reading comprehension that hard for you?]
She nodded to herself, respecting the sharp insight of the netizens.
No matter how much editing tried to mask it, real intentions always bled through.
The entire structure had been rigged from the first episode to make Baek Song-ha shine.
She scrolled through several pages, but unfortunately, the rest of the content consisted mostly of predictions regarding who would be eliminated.
Jae-i exited the forum and selected the video clip of the premiere broadcast.
Though she had watched the scene dozens of times already, it felt different with every viewing.
It hadn’t felt this jarring when she was watching footage of festival performances.
‘It’s lacking…’
Following Baek Song-ha’s perfectly sharp, crisp performance, her own movements looked somewhat unrefined.
Then again, one’s own flaws always loomed largest in one’s own eyes.
“The score for Trainee Lee Jae-i is…”
The clip cut off abruptly right at that cliffhanger.
The comment section was in absolute shambles.
└ I’m dying to know!! Anyone who went to the live taping, hurry up and drop the spoilers.
└ They signed NDAs before entering, so they can’t post anything.
└ Lee Jae-i definitely won. Have you guys seen her busking videos? Kids like her are the real deal.
└ The producers are just fishing for engagement with that ending. Baek Song-ha crushed it.
└ Honestly, both of them are just drop-dead gorgeous.
Thanks to the drama, Baek Song-ha’s name and her own dominated the internet search rankings.
Setting aside her lingering disappointment over her dance execution, a rush of pure satisfaction surged through her.
That solo spotlight Baek Song-ha was supposed to monopolize.
Judging by the explosive comment sections alone, Jae-i had successfully hijacked half of it.
Just seeing their names tied together like this must be making Baek Song-ha absolutely writhe with fury.
A faint, satisfied curve was just beginning to grace Jae-i’s lips when a voice broke the silence.
“Have you been waiting long?”
Seeing Ki-baek walk in looking as though he had rushed over, she quickly bolted to her feet.
“Not at all. I arrived just a few moments ago.”
Ki-baek lightly pulled out the chair opposite her and took a seat.
He extended a coffee cup toward Jae-i, his gentle demeanor easing the tension in the air.
“Filming ran late into the night yesterday, didn’t it? You should be resting today.”
“Just being away from the cameras feels like a rest to me.”
The words themselves sounded casually slick, but Jae-i’s expression remained strikingly earnest.
Ki-baek stared at her for a beat before letting out a soft chuckle.
“Is that so? Then perhaps we should dive straight into a lesson to make you actually crave some rest.”
“Yes, please. Let’s do it. The composition lesson.”
Jae-i seized upon his words without a moment’s hesitation.
As Ki-baek’s playful tone lingered in the air, the mood in the room shifted subtly.
This was the exact reason she had sought him out.
The next mission required a self-composed track performed Stage.
Furthermore, she had to pass a rigorous evaluation by the composer Casey.
Jae-i knew all too well that with her current skill level, creating a truly impactful performance was entirely out of the question.
This filming hiatus was her one and only window of opportunity.
“Jae-i.”
Allowing a brief, heavy silence to hang between them, he finally spoke.
The warmth had vanished from his voice, causing Jae-i to blink slowly in response.
“I admire your passion. But for an artist, managing your physical stamina is also a skill.”
“I’m not tired in the least.”
“Fatigue accumulates quietly until it breaks you. At Star Entertainment, resting is considered part of your official schedule.”
Her rapid-fire retort was instantly deflected by his unyielding tone.
Even though Jae-i recognized the objective truth in his words, she couldn’t bring herself to nod in agreement.
‘Baek Song-ha might have started working already.’
In fact, she might have been preparing for this long before the program even commenced.
The moment that realization struck, Jae-i lifted her chin with renewed defiance.
“I’ll rest later. Please teach me the lesson now.”
Her unbending resolve caused Ki-baek to pause.
A rookie’s grit, a burning passion.
While those were undoubtedly powerful driving forces, sprinting at full capacity from the starting line only guaranteed an early burnout.
He peered intently into Jae-i’s face, taking a measured breath.
“It won’t be too late to start composition lessons after the show concludes.”
Except it would be.
That was precisely why she needed to grasp the fundamentals of composition right this second.
The words caught on the tip of Jae-i’s tongue.
‘If he asks how I can be so certain, what am I supposed to say?’
She could hardly blurt out something as absurd as having a supernatural hunch.
Jae-i quietly swallowed her arguments.
For the first time, she felt a prickle of resentment toward Ki-baek’s rigid stance.
‘Should I just throw a tantrum?’
She didn’t mind looking stubborn, but she doubted it would work on him anyway.
The hard set of his jawline suggested absolutely no room for persuasion.
Exhaling a sharp breath, she pressed her lips into a tight line.
“We will revisit this conversation tomorrow. Focus on resting today.”
“Understood.”
Leaving him with that dry response, Jae-i exited the CEO’s Office.
Though the meeting had concluded abruptly, Ki-baek made no move to stop her.
The second the door clicked shut, Jae-i opened the search bar on her Cell Phone.
Every minute and every second was precious; she couldn’t afford to just lie around in bed.
Searching for chord progressions and harmonic rules, she kept walking.
* * *
That very night.
Just as Ki-baek was about to lie down, the nightstand beside his bed vibrated aggressively.
Checking the illuminated screen, he saw a text message icon alongside her name.
‘Jae-i?’
The clock at the top of the screen indicated that midnight had long since passed.
Worrying that something urgent might have occurred, Ki-baek quickly opened the message.
[CEO. I’m incredibly sorry to text so late. If you’re already asleep, you can check this in the morning…]
A long paragraph of text stretched out below, but rather than reading through it, Ki-baek pressed the call button.
After two rings, a slightly raspy voice came through the line.
– You weren’t asleep yet?
“No. Is everything alright?”
– Oh, yes. It’s nothing bad, it’s just about the harmony rules. I read that a third harmony should only resolve into a second harmony, but…
Ki-baek pressed a hand to his forehead as Jae-i launched into a breathless, rapid explanation.
He had practically forced her to go home and rest, only for her to be losing sleep over this at such an hour.
To make matters worse, she sounded half-asleep already.
– So, I was really curious to know your thoughts on that.
“It seems you’ve completely blown off the rest day I assigned you.”
The voice on the other end went dead silent at Ki-baek’s remark.
To be perfectly honest, none of Jae-i’s technical questions were registering with him.
Right now, his priority was getting her to sleep.
“Go to bed immediately.”
– …Alright.
With that subdued response, the screen turned black once more.
Ki-baek gripped his Cell Phone, sinking into deep thought.
While her disregard for rest was incredibly frustrating, how could he possibly fault such pure, unadulterated drive?
Rubbing his jaw, he opened his phone again and began typing a message.
[Jae-i. Come to the address below tomorrow morning. It’s my Workshop. See you then.]
Yet, even as the minutes ticked by, his phone remained entirely silent.
For someone who had been so stubbornly defiant earlier, she sure had fallen asleep fast the moment he told her to.
In the quiet room, it was Ki-baek who kept restlessly fiddling with his screen.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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