“Ji Eun-ji. 22. Auditioning for Starlight Entertainment’s new girl group… again, correct?”

Park Manager’s voice was flat, bored. He didn’t even look up from his tablet as Eun-ji gripped her own microphone — the one she’d saved up for by working at a convenience store until 3 AM — her knuckles white. The two other judges leaned back in their chairs, expressions already set to 'no'.

She took a shaky breath and opened her mouth. The note came out clear at first — then wavered, cracking on the high note she’d practiced until her throat was raw. A judge sighed. Park Manager finally glanced up, his eyes cold.

“That’s enough.”

Eun-ji’s heart plummeted. Seven agencies in three years — all new, all the same words. She’d given up everything for this dream — not that she’d had much to give. Her parents had died in a car crash when she was 15, leaving her with nothing but a small insurance playout that had long since run out . No family, no friends, no home but a cramped, mouldy, damp little room she rented by the hour.

“You work harder than any trainee I’ve ever seen,”

Park Manager continued, tapping his tablet. “You show up at 5 AM, leave at midnight. We thought you could make up for your lack of talent with hardwork ,but you’ve been here for almost a year now. There’s been barely any improvement, even after being transferred across multiple company subdivisions… Looks…Talent.....those aren’t things you can grind for. I’m sorry. We can’t sign you, and your trainee contract has been terminated.”

The words echoed in her ears as she stumbled out of the agency building, rain starting to pour over Seoul’s neon streets. She'd invested money into this career — money she didn’t have to spare — hoping to see light at the end of the tunnel but turns out fairytales don't come true just like dreams .

She ducked into a narrow alley to avoid the worst of the rain, leaning against a brick wall. Her vision blurred — from rain or tears, she couldn’t tell. She reached into her bag for her water bottle, her hand slipping. The bottle clattered to the ground, rolling under a stack of wooden crates. When she bent to pick it up, her head slammed into the edge of a metal speaker left out by a nearby café. Pain exploded behind her eyes. The neon lights flickered. The rain sounded like distant drums. Then everything went black.

---

“Yueyue. Yueyue, wake up.”

A voice — soft, panicked, not in Korean.

Eun-ji’s eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was a ceiling of carved wood and crystal chandeliers. Not the cracked, water-stained ceiling of her rented room. The second thing she felt was silk sheets under her skin — not the thin cotton she’d slept on in the tiny room above a laundromat.

She sat up, her head spinning. A woman in a crisp uniform rushed forward, holding a glass of water. “Young Miss, you scared us! Fainting at the gala… Everyone was so worried.”

Young Miss? Yueyue?!

The words felt foreign in her ears. She’d spent six years with no one to call her by name — just “hey, you” at the convenience store, “trainee” at auditions.

She got up abruptly stumbled to the full-length mirror on the wall, her legs shaking.

The girl staring back was not her. She was younger — maybe 16 — with flawless porcelain skin, dark hair that fell like silk over her shoulders, and eyes the color of deep amber. She was wearing a red qipao embroidered with golden peonies — expensive, elegant, nothing like the faded practice clothes Eun-ji had been wearing until… until she’d hit her head.

This isn’t real, she thought, touching her face as if to prove it. No acne scars. No calluses on her fingertips from gripping the mic too tight. *I’m dead. Or I hit my head and I’m dreaming of a life where someone cares if I live or die.

“Yueyue!” A man’s voice boomed from the doorway. Eun-ji turned to see a tall, imposing man in a tailored suit — gray hair, sharp eyes, but there was worry in them. Two younger men stood behind him — one with the same sharp eyes (the heir, maybe), the other with a more relaxed smile (a celebrity, if the way he held himself was any clue).

“Father”, the word slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it — in perfect, fluent Mandarin, a language she’d only ever picked up from song lyrics. She flinched. Father. A word she hadn’t spoken since she was 15, after the death of her adopted family in a tragic accident and her relatives who abandoned her.

The man — Father — stepped forward, his brow furrowed. “The doctor said you had a panic attack. You’ve always been shy at these galas, but fainting… Yueyue, you know how much your mother and I dote on you — we treat you like our little treasure — but you’re the youngest daughter of the Lin Group. You need to learn to hold yourself with poise.”

Lin Group. The name hit her like lightning. One of China’s most powerful chaebol families — billions in assets, real estate, entertainment. And I’m their little treasure. Their daughter. Someone who has parents who worry about her.

Tears pricked her eyes — real tears, hot against her smooth cheeks. She’d spent six years alone, fighting for a dream that had just died. Now she was in a penthouse in Beijing, in a body that was already beautiful, with people who loved her. But why? She didn’t deserve any of this. And she was still as untalented as before, if not worse.

Just as the confusion started to overwhelm her\, a soft *ding* echoed in her head.

A glowing screen materialized in front of her eyes — transparent, only visible to her. It flickered with a pink-gold light, and text appeared in both Korean and Mandarin:

> 🎤 [IDOL DESTINY SYSTEM] ACTIVATED] 🎤

> Greeting\, Host Lin Yueyue!

> We detect your past life’s unfulfilled dream: to become a kpop idol.

> You were denied not by lack of will — but by circumstances beyond your control. Alone\, with no resources\, no looks\, no natural talent — but you never gave up.

> This system has been granted to you to turn that dream into reality. We will enhance your stats\, unlock your potential\, and make you the PERFECT idol.

Eun-ji — no, Yueyue — stared at the screen, her heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst. The words blurred, then came into focus again:

> CURRENT STATS:

> - VISUALS: 95/100 (Family genes + system initial boost)

> - VOCAL: 20/100 (Current natural ability)

> - DANCE: 15/100 (Current natural ability)

> - CHARISMA: 30/100 (Shy\, spoiled treasure persona)

> - LUCK: MAX/100 (System exclusive bonus)

> - HIDDEN: DESTINY: 0/100 (Unlocked by acts of inspiration)

> - (Note: Average adult stats are 15)

Another *ding* — a new message popped up\, flashing yellow:

> 📋 [FIRST TASK: ACCEPT YOUR NEW LIFE] 📋

> Objective: Acknowledge your identity as Lin Yueyue — and that this second chance is your chance to finish what you started in your past life.

> Deadline: 24 hours

> Reward: [BEGINNER IDOL PACK] (Vocal Foundation Skill Book\, Basic Dance Memory Chip\, Private Idol Trainer Voucher)

 > Penalty: System deactivation — you will forget your past life and live as Lin Yueyue forever, with no memory of the dream that kept you alive.

Yueyue’s gaze drifted from the screen to her father and brothers\, still watching her with concern. She thought of her old practice room\, of the empty apartment\, of the multiple rejections that had broken her heart. She thought of the word *family* on her lips — a word she’d thought she’d never say again after the death of her adopted family in a tragic accident and her relatives who abandoned her.

A second chance, she thought. A body that’s beautiful. A system that can give me talent. And… parents. People who care.

She took a deep breath, straightening her qipao. The shyness in her eyes faded, replaced by the same fire that had kept her going through six years of loneliness.

“Father,” she said, her voice clearer now — strong, like she’d always wished she could sound. *“I’m sorry I fainted. But… I’ve been thinking about something. Something I want to do. For myself. Something I’ve always wanted to do.”

Her father raised an eyebrow. *“What is it, Yueyue?”

She didn’t answer — not yet. Instead, she closed her eyes and whispered the words to the system in her mind, her voice full of tears and hope:

“I accept. All of it.”

A warm glow spread through her body, so bright she felt like she was floating. The screen flashed green, and a small, glowing box materialized in front of her — the [BEGINNER IDOL PACK].

> 🎉 TASK COMPLETED!🎉

> [BEGINNER IDOL PACK] UNLOCKED!

> Prepare yourself\, Host. Your journey to becoming the perfect kpop idol starts now — and this time\, you won’t be alone.

Outside the penthouse window, the rain in Beijing stopped. The sun broke through the clouds, casting a golden light over the city’s skyline — a skyline that would soon watch her rise.

[END OF CHAPTER 1]

What do you think ?

Yueyue stared at the glowing box floating in front of her — the [BEGINNER IDOL PACK]. It shimmered with a soft light, pulsing with the promise of… something.

“What is it, Yueyue?” Her father’s voice cut through her thoughts. “You’re staring at nothing.”

Right. Only she could see it. Like a secret weapon, hidden in plain sight.

“Just… thinking,” she said, forcing a smile. “About what I want to do.”

Her father studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp. But then he seemed to relax, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. “Well, whatever it is, Yueyue, make sure it’s worthy of the Lin name.” He clapped his hands together. “Come, boys. Let’s leave Yueyue to her thoughts. She needs her rest.”

He ushered her brothers out of the room, leaving Yueyue alone in the opulent bedroom. As soon as the door clicked shut, she turned back to the [BEGINNER IDOL PACK].

Okay, system, she thought. Let’s see what you’ve got.

She focused her mind on the box, picturing herself reaching out and opening it. The box burst open in a shower of golden light, and three items materialized in front of her:

[VOCAL FOUNDATION SKILL BOOK]

[BASIC DANCE MEMORY CHIP]

[PRIVATE IDOL TRAINER VOUCHER]

New messages popped up on the system screen:

[ITEM EQUIPPED: VOCAL FOUNDATION SKILL BOOK]

Passive Skill Activated: Grants basic understanding of vocal techniques, breathing control, and pitch accuracy.

[VOCAL STAT INCREASED: 20 → 30]

[MUSIC THEORY STAT INCREASED: 10 → 22]

[ITEM EQUIPPED: BASIC DANCE MEMORY CHIP]

Passive Skill Activated: Enhances muscle memory for basic dance choreography. Increases learning speed by 50%.

[DANCE STAT INCREASED: 15 → 25]

[MUSCLE MEMORY STAT INCREASED: 5 → 20]

[ITEM ADDED TO INVENTORY: PRIVATE IDOL TRAINER VOUCHER]

Usable Item: Redeem for one month of private training with a system-approved idol trainer.

Note: Trainer specializes in both vocal performance and stage movement.

Yueyue blinked. It felt… different. Like a switch had been flipped in her brain. She suddenly understood concepts she’d struggled with for years — diaphragmatic breathing, vocal resonance, the subtle shifts in weight that made a dance move look effortless.

She walked over to the grand piano in the corner of the room, a Steinway that probably cost more than her old practice room. In her past life, she’d only been able to pick out a few simple melodies. Now, she sat down and her fingers flew across the keys, playing a complex Chopin nocturne she’d only ever heard on the radio.

The music filled the room, soaring and intricate. It wasn’t perfect — her technique was still rough — but it was a thousand times better than anything she’d ever been able to do before.

Tears welled up in her eyes. This is real, she thought. This system… it’s really giving me a second chance.

She spent the next few hours experimenting with her newfound abilities. She sang scales, practicing her pitch until it was nearly perfect. She danced in front of the mirror, mimicking the moves from kpop music videos she’d watched a million times. The [BASIC DANCE MEMORY CHIP] made it almost effortless — she picked up the choreography in minutes, her body moving with a fluidity she’d never possessed before.

But even with the system’s help, it wasn’t easy. Her muscles ached, her throat was sore, and her mind felt like it was about to explode from information overload. She was still Lin Yueyue, a pampered chaebol daughter who’d never had to work hard for anything in her life.

I need to change that, she thought, wiping the sweat from her brow. I can’t rely on the system alone. I need to put in the work.

She glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. Her father would be furious if he found her awake at this hour, especially after her “panic attack” at the gala.

She tiptoed to the door, peering out into the hallway. Empty. She slipped out of her room and padded down the hallway, heading towards the grand staircase that led to the lower floors of the penthouse.

According to the system, the Lin family also owned a private entertainment company — Lin Entertainment — with a state-of-the-art training studio on the top floor of their headquarters. If she was going to become a kpop idol, she needed to start training, and she needed to start now.

She reached the bottom of the staircase and crept towards the front door, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it. Her first step towards her new dream.

Just as she reached for the doorknob, a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Going somewhere, Yueyue?”

She turned around to see her second brother, Lin Hao, leaning against the wall, a lazy smile on his face. He was wearing a silk bathrobe, his hair tousled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“It’s after midnight,” he said, pushing himself off the wall. “Where do you think you’re going?”