Chapter 8: Keepsake of Friendship
The initial evaluation wrapped up uneventfully.
Even though Xie Xizhao had entered early, his turn to perform came later. The trainees who followed failed to impress, though perhaps it was simply that the earlier performances had been too exceptional in comparison.
By the time everything ended, it was already 2:30 AM. Most people were groggy with exhaustion, but the production team was at least considerate enough to let everyone rest and resume recording the next day.
Ji Yan said goodbye to his teammates, then eagerly weaved through the crowd, chasing after the solitary figure ahead. “Hey, Brother Zhao, wait for me!”
His voice echoed down the corridor, drawing everyone’s attention. But this time, instead of curiosity, their gazes held something more…
A subtle envy?
Ji Yan blinked, then straightened his back with pride.
Hearing his voice, Xie Xizhao stopped to wait.
His face was already pale from staying up so late.
“The production team really knows how to drag things out,” Ji Yan muttered.
He felt sorry for his brother. When there was no recording, his brother was a model student, attending classes from eight in the morning to eleven at night.
He followed the doctor’s advice meticulously.
Xie Xizhao said, “It’s fine.”
It was over, anyway.
As the crowd slowly moved toward the dorms, the two of them took their time. Before long, they had fallen to the very back. The late-night air carried a crisp chill, a sign of early autumn.
Xie Xizhao felt a little cold, but the breeze helped clear his head. The lingering adrenaline from the stage performance finally began to settle in his veins.
Just then, a voice called out from behind—
“Hey!”
Xie Xizhao’s first instinct was to respond, First of all, my name isn’t… Wait, no, that was off track.
He turned around. The boy who always held his head high stood there, hands in his pockets, alone.
Ai Qingyuan.
He hadn’t removed his makeup yet and was still wearing his striking stage outfit, making his tall, straight posture even more pronounced. But his expression was complicated.
Then, slowly, he spoke. “You called me out for making a mistake, but you cut corners yourself.”
Xie Xizhao paused.
Beside him, Ji Yan immediately bristled. “What? How can you say that about Brother Zhao—”
Ai Qingyuan let out a soft scoff.
“Little sidekick,” he said.
Ji Yan: “…”
At that moment, he finally understood why Ai Qingyuan’s bad temper was so infamous in the industry. He had no one to blame but himself for that reputation.
Just as Ji Yan was about to retort, Ai Qingyuan turned around.
It was as if he had followed Xie Xizhao all this way just to throw out that one mocking remark.
一
On the way back, Ji Yan looked depressed.
Xie Xizhao asked, “Do you want me to curse him back for you?”
Ji Yan: “…”
Huh?
He snapped out of it. “No, it’s fine, Brother Zhao. I’m not upset because of that.”
“…But do you even know how to curse people?” He was a little doubtful.
Xie Xizhao answered honestly, “Not really.”
But he could try.
Mostly, he didn’t want to create a rift between himself and Ji Yan over something like this. Even though, technically, they weren’t even friends.
If he had to categorize their relationship, it was more like… mealtime and practice room buddies?
Xie Xizhao pondered for a moment.
He used to have friends, whether before his car accident or within the system.
But compared to the short breaks between missions in the system, the time spent in each mission world was always much longer—so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have friends.
Ji Yan: “…”
He knew it.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“Brother, you don’t need to learn how to curse.” He added, “Your existence is already annoying enough.”
Suddenly, everything made sense to him.
Who was Ai Qingyuan?
It was said that even the show’s director treated him with extra politeness. If someone like that had gone out of his way to mock his brother, what did that mean?
It meant he had really lost control! Hahaha!
Young Master Ai, experiencing his first-ever mental breakdown—what a joyous occasion! [celebration.jpg]
“It’s just… why didn’t the show let you have a re-evaluation?” Ji Yan asked. “Brother, your dancing is obviously good too.”
Xie Xizhao replied, “They wouldn’t.”
“Hmm?”
“The show wouldn’t let me do a re-evaluation,” he said.
He had clearly noticed Dou Yu adjusting his earpiece—a subtle cue. He knew that was the show’s directive. Otherwise, Dou Yu would have let him have another chance.
—
The two finally entered the building. The elevator area was crowded, so without a word, they both headed toward the stairs.
As they walked, Xie Xizhao coughed lightly. Ji Yan was still lost in thought when he suddenly asked:
“…Why?”
He thought for a moment. “Because of screen time?”
Everyone’s screen time was more or less fixed.
The segment where Xie Xizhao first entered and chose his seat definitely had to be aired, which already took up a portion. Then, after his performance, Lan Yezhou had chatted with him for quite a while. Although the show could edit the conversation, it was hard to cut something with a clear cause-and-effect.
Xie Xizhao’s company had no chance of negotiating for a debut spot, and as a complete unknown without a fan base, the production team wouldn’t allocate too much screen time to him.
Xie Xizhao hummed in agreement, then added, “There’s another reason.”
Ji Yan thought about it.
Then thought some more.
He glanced at Xie Xizhao first, then carefully recalled the performance just now.
Finally…
He remembered Young Master Ai, who had come over like an elementary school kid just to throw some tough words.
And it clicked.
“F*ck.” He laughed and cursed. “Brother, is the show afraid you’ll fight for center?”
Xie Xizhao said, “Little kids shouldn’t swear.”
Ji Yan: “…”
“Brother, you’re only a year older than me. Who are you calling a little kid?” Ji Yan wasn’t intimidated at all. The more he thought about it, the crazier it seemed. But if that were the case, it actually made perfect sense.
On one hand, it was about screen time.
On the other hand, in idol competitions, singing, dancing, rapping, and stage presence were the key criteria for evaluation.
And Xie Xizhao’s performance stood out too much. His original composition alone was enough to break the stereotype of being “one-dimensional” and secure the highest ranking.
And if he added more skills to the mix…?
Of course, the production team could edit things however they wanted, but…
Xie Xizhao had handed them the perfect excuse on a silver platter.
Not feeling well?
If you’re not feeling well, then go take a break. Dancing is exhausting, after all. 🙂
↑
Ji Yan was willing to bet that this was exactly what the production team was thinking at that moment.
“Brother, you really shouldn’t have said that,” Ji Yan said. “I honestly think you’re better than Ai Qingyuan. Let’s just go for center and be done with it.”
Xie Xizhao smiled but didn’t say anything.
That meaningful reaction made Ji Yan feel like he was missing something. He scratched his head, still trying to figure it out, when they arrived at their dorm room.
The moment he saw the door, he temporarily shoved all those unanswered questions aside.
“Brother, so about your bet with Ni Xin—he lost, didn’t he?”
Just as he finished speaking, the door in front of them suddenly slid open with a whoosh. A guy stood in the doorway, his face dark as the bottom of a pot.
—
Xie Xizhao had completely forgotten about the room-switching bet.
After making the bet that day, he hadn’t given it a second thought—mainly because he later remembered that dorms would be reassigned based on their rankings after the initial evaluation anyway.
He had only wanted to switch rooms because Ni Xin and his group were too noisy. But now, with just two or three days left, there wasn’t much point anymore.
He paused for a moment. “Morning?”
Ni Xin’s face darkened. “Are you feeling pretty smug right now?”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
That’s it.
“And?” he asked.
Ji Yan, standing off to the side: “…”
Welp.
His brother was back at it again—driving people up the wall without even trying.
Ji Yan quickly stepped aside to join the other roommates in watching the drama unfold. The guy next to him glanced at him, then silently shifted over to make room.
With Xie Xizhao’s confirmation, Ni Xin looked even more furious. “You did this on purpose!”
“You’ve been pretending to be sickly all this time to make everyone lower their guard, and then you stepped on us to climb up!” Ni Xin got angrier as he spoke. “And you even made that kind of bet with me!”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
Buddy, can you please watch your wording?
“That kind of bet?” What kind of bet are we even talking about?
At this point, he understood what Ni Xin was getting at.
“Yes,” he said. “And?”
“You—!”
Ni Xin was truly fuming. To be precise, he was both embarrassed and furious.
Completely losing his cool, he dumped all the blame on Xie Xizhao.
He expected the other to argue back—but to his surprise, Xie Xizhao just admitted to it outright.
Like he didn’t care at all.
Worse yet, he even asked, in a pleasant tone, “By the way, when are you moving out?”
Ni Xin: “…”
He felt like he was about to cough up blood. The sheer frustration was enough to make him pass out.
He said in disbelief: “We will move to the dormitory the day after tomorrow!”
‘Is this man so unreasonable?’
Xie Xizhao considered this for a moment.
Seeing that he had finally gone silent, Ni Xin suddenly felt a spark of hope.
He swallowed and hesitated. “Uh, Xizhao…”
“I think we had a bit of a misunderstanding before,” he said. “Moving back and forth is kind of a hassle, you know?”
Holding back his frustration, he forced out, “How about this—I’ll treat you to a meal. You can pick whatever you want. Sound good?”
Xie Xizhao glanced at him. “A misunderstanding? But just now, you—”
“I was heated in the moment,” Ni Xin stiffened.
And instantly regretted his outburst.
To be fair, Xie Xizhao had always seemed like a pretty easygoing person. If he had just talked it out properly from the start, maybe this wouldn’t have turned into such a mess.
Losing face in private was one thing, but with two days left until the dorm switch, if he really packed up and left now, their drama would spread through the trainee chat by nightfall.
At that point, that would be truly humiliating.
Besides…
He had nowhere to go.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to keep his tone even. “I just… didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
“Speaking of which,” he continued, “didn’t you study math? Who would’ve thought you could compose music too?”
Who could’ve seen that coming?!
Off to the side, Ji Yan clicked his tongue. “Wait, Ni Xin, you even knew my brother studied math? You two don’t even talk. Are you secretly a fan of his?”
Ni Xin: “…”
Shut up, thank you. 🙂
He looked expectantly at Xie Xizhao, who met his gaze and paused for two seconds.
Then Xie Xizhao said, “That is a bit troublesome.”
Ni Xin quickly agreed. “Really troublesome.”
He had already made up his mind—if Xie Xizhao let go of the bet, he’d let go of the fact that being seen next to him had hurt his own image.
He could just selectively erase this whole mess from his memory and maintain a surface-level friendship with Xie Xizhao.
Then he heard—
“In that case, I won’t make things hard for you.”
“Moving dorms is a hassle,” Xie Xizhao said pleasantly. “So… why don’t you just write a statement explaining the situation? Stick it on the wall outside the dorm—it can be a little keepsake of our renewed friendship. What do you think?”
