The food was so good she accidentally stuffed herself. Relaxed and content, the last trace of harshness in her eyes—a lingering shadow from her rebirth—melted away. She was like a well-fed cat basking in the sun, languid and graceful. Her already stunning beauty seemed to shine all the brighter.

Not wanting to face the troublesome bunch in their dorm, the two of them found a shady spot in a small park. They leaned against each other and dozed for a bit, after which Xia Zhaoyun went back to reading her script.

May was neither hot nor cold, and events began to pop up everywhere, vying for attention like flowers in the full bloom of summer. The Golden Microphone was one such event. It also happened to fall during Labor Month, so most of the scripts were about praising the working people.

To Xia Zhaoyun, the scripts were all cookie-cutter. They just swapped out the person being praised. The beginning thanked the organization, the middle praised some model worker, and the end stated one’s own attitude. ’It’s a complete template!’

The Golden Microphone primarily tested a broadcaster’s fundamental skills. A brilliant script was just icing on the cake. After all, a broadcaster’s main job was their vocal ability—reading directives from above and reciting submissions from employees. Being able to write was a good bonus, but the judges wouldn’t put the cart before the horse and fuss over it too much.

This was why the competition scripts were becoming more and more formulaic.

Xia Zhaoyun had been a Ghost for so long that even though her memories were fragmented, the abilities, knowledge, and perspective she’d developed hadn’t faded.

She was well aware of her strengths and weaknesses as a broadcaster. Her sweet and soft voice was an outstanding Innate gift. At the same time, compared to others, it lacked power and resonance, which seemed like a major disadvantage when it came to praising laborers.

’But laborers are people too. If everyone else is going for upbeat and forceful, each trying to outdo the other, then I’ll take a lyrical approach. I’ll hide the emotion between the lines. A single, light-as-a-feather phrase that resonates with the audience could be the killer move that turns everything around!’

Xia Zhaoyun was used to applying strategy to everything she did, rather than just brute force. This competition was no different.

To win the championship, she just had to outshine the others in every aspect.

’If others are writing about laborers, about a specific model worker, then I’ll write about the laborers behind the laborers—an entire group of people. In terms of both originality and the sheer number of people being praised, my piece will far surpass everyone else!’

With her concept, tone, and angle decided, Xia Zhaoyun actually finished writing the script in a single afternoon.

He Qingran took it and read it through. She shook her head, unable to tear her eyes away from the script. "Yunyun, if I hadn’t watched you write the draft with my own two eyes, I’d have thought you had some master writer feeding you scripts!"

While other people’s scripts maintained a simple and unadorned style, hers was like a peacock spreading its tail. With magnificent prose, she transformed housewives—women covered in dust, steeped in cooking fumes, with calloused hands—into tireless lighthouses offering warmth and direction. She wrote of the gentle, reassuring wait under a dim yellow light, of home-cooked meals infused with a woman’s love for her family, giving them an endlessly captivating magic...

The words and phrases were beautiful, but it was the details she captured that sent the reader down memory lane with every sentence, stirring the softest parts of their hearts.

And Xia Zhaoyun’s conclusion touched upon her own star-crossed love. The one who had loved her was used to giving silently, and only after he had suddenly left did she deeply understand the need to cherish the people around her.

’People are not high or low, and labor is not noble or humble. Everyone contributes. It makes no sense for the women tied to their homes and families to be forgotten like part of the scenery.’

’Without their silent contributions and support, how could the laborers in the spotlight possibly focus on building a better future?’

He Qingran felt like her language skills were failing her; she didn’t know how to praise her anymore. She just nodded repeatedly. "Yunyun will definitely get first place!"

Xia Zhaoyun lifted her chin. "When I make a move, it’s to win. I’m definitely bringing home the championship."

He Qingran was speechless. She shot Xia Zhaoyun a glare, but then, her eyes glistening with happy tears, she blissfully reread the script one more time.

After their afternoon nap, people’s heads were groggy. Under a sun that was already starting to show its strength, they shuffled sluggishly toward their offices or workshops. Even as upbeat music blared from the speakers, they kept their eyes half-closed, their entire beings exuding a lazy energy.

When one song ended, a clear, sweet voice swept in like a spring breeze, carrying a special kind of magic that pulled everyone from the clutches of drowsiness.

She took a perfectly standard press release and treated it like a textbook lesson, interjecting her own interpretations from time to time and even throwing in some inspirational fluff, which was surprisingly invigorating.

"...not for others, but to become a person that even you yourself would admire..."