Superstar Ch.29

Chapter 29: Secret (First Public Performance Stage)

When the gasps erupted, Jing Jin was zoning out.

She hadn’t eaten dinner that night and was starving. But she and her fan club friends had been lucky enough to squeeze into the front row, and none of them wanted to give up their spot.

Fortunately, she still had some support team snack packs in her bag, and the show’s staff had handed out water.

The result of being half-full and half-hungry was that her excitement only lasted for about three performances before running out completely. Even during Guan Heng’s stage just now, she had only perked up a little.

She started questioning why she had come to the live show at all.

Public performances weren’t like concerts.

Concerts had seats, fully designed stages, and fan interactions. To be honest, the experience was way better than a survival show’s public performance, where you had to stand the whole time and the stage quality wasn’t even guaranteed.

If not for…

Before she could finish thinking about what made it worth it, her friend suddenly yanked her sleeve. “They’re coming out! Xiao Jin! Xiao Ai’s group is coming out!”

Her heart leaped as she looked up at the stage.

Sure enough, the group had already taken their positions.

Her brother stood in the leader’s spot, right next to their center, Ai Qingyuan.

Unconsciously, she clenched her fists, feeling her heartbeat accelerate.

Her first thought was:

So the rumor about her brother and Xiao Ai being in the same group was actually true.

Her second thought was:

It’s real! Ahhh!

Oh god, what was she supposed to do now?!

And her third thought…

My god, her brother looked really handsome.

That was practically the unanimous consensus in the audience the moment they appeared on stage.

To keep things visually cohesive, an entire performance group usually wore outfits in the same color scheme.

“Stand By” was a fresh and youthful boy group song, so both Guan Heng’s and Ai Qingyuan’s groups had coincidentally chosen light-colored outfits. The previous group had a mix of pastel blue, yellow, and pink, while this group had opted for a unified blue theme.

It was a color that didn’t suit everyone.

Lighter shades had a tendency to make skin appear darker, and unfortunately, one of the five members fell victim to this effect.

The rest of the group looked decent, but…

The harsh reality was that in an industry where idols performed on stage and appeared on screen, visuals were considered a part of their professional skillset.

Strictly speaking, only Xie Xizhao and Ai Qingyuan stood out in this group.

As the center, Ai Qingyuan’s outfit was more elaborate.

He wore a denim jacket over a white shirt. To match his personal style, the shirt featured bold black English lettering, and his ensemble was accessorized with statement pieces like earrings and silver chains draped from his pants.

Xie Xizhao, on the other hand, stuck to his signature look—loose shorts that ended above the knee, paired with simple white sneakers.

This time, however, he wore a sky-blue oversized cotton jacket over a plain white tee. The oversized fit of the shirt subtly revealed a hint of his collarbone.

The clean blue-and-white palette made his fair complexion appear even paler. His neck and collarbones seemed almost luminous under the stage lights.

Of course, what stood out the most was his face.

Ever since the fan meeting, there had been ongoing discussions online about Xie Xizhao’s looks.

The consensus was:

[A highly versatile visual contender.]

Initially, many people had thought of Xie Xizhao as having a delicate, refined, and scholarly appearance.

It was the kind of look that could be a disadvantage in the idol industry.

The fan meeting had already revealed his youthful, boyish charm.

And now, his styling elevated his strengths to the fullest. The makeup subtly enhanced the corners of his eyes and the tint of his lips, making him appear even more vivid and dynamic.

In short:

He looked so good it was insane.

Jing Jin was about to lose her mind.

She had always known her brother was good-looking, but she had never imagined that with the right styling, he could look this stunning.

Her head was spinning—she didn’t even hear what Dou Yu was saying. Her mind was stuck in an endless loop of silent screaming, and it wasn’t until the lights dimmed again that she finally snapped back to reality.

In the darkness, she saw her brother sitting at the edge of the stage.

It was a starting position.

At that moment, the once overwhelmingly lively venue finally fell into silence.

With her senses returning, so did her rationality.

Everyone in the audience had just realized one thing—this was going to be the performance of the night.

A hit song, popular contestants.

A showdown between labelmates.

And… another face-off between the two candidates for the first center position.

The third point could be set aside for now—because the biggest challenge for this group was:

Group B had already set the bar incredibly high.

Jing Jin gripped the railing tightly.

Beside her, her friend’s voice was low and trembling with distress, almost to the point of tears. “Ahhh, why did they have to put Guan Heng and Xiao Ai in rival teams?! How are we supposed to choose… And honestly, Brother Heng’s group was so good.”

She was a semi-fan of Shenghong’s trainees.

Guan Heng’s performance just now had been brimming with youthful energy, from vocals to dance—there wasn’t a single weak link.

It was a spectacular performance that faithfully captured the essence of the original song.

The only flaw was that the trainee who sang the intro had a naturally thin and airy voice, making the opening feel slightly weak. However, his tone had a cool and youthful quality that helped compensate for the lack of vocal strength.

That, too, was the result of Guan Heng’s careful arrangement.

She couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly surpass it.

She was both anxious and excited.

Jing Jin was just as nervous.

She lifted her head, straining to see Xie Xizhao, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face in the darkness. She wasn’t even sure why she was looking for him—it was just an instinct.

Like how she used to wait for Xie Xizhao to pick her up after school, feeling a wave of relief the moment she spotted his bike from afar.

But now, all she could see was a faint silhouette.

Just as her palms had started sweating from the tension, a sound finally reached her ears.

Only…

It wasn’t the familiar opening instrumental.

She froze.

A moment later, she quickly focused, trying to make sense of it.

The sound she was hearing… it seemed to be…

A bicycle bell?

—

At the judges’ table, Qiu Xuerui and Li Lin sat together, speaking in hushed tones.

“Was this Xiao Xie’s idea?” Li Lin asked.

Qiu Xuerui nodded. “Mm. He came to discuss it with me and Teacher Lan before. Said he wanted to add a segment at the beginning.”

The so-called segment was a scene created purely through sound.

In the audio playing now, there was the ringing of a bicycle bell, the lively chatter of people walking through a university campus, and the chirping of birds in the early morning. All of these sounds blended together—

Weaving the image of a college campus.

The soundscape was layered and intricate, but in the darkness, even the faintest sounds became amplified.

With the immersive surround sound effects of the live venue, everyone was instantly transported into the scene.

A bright summer day, a bustling university campus.

Young boys and girls laughing as they walked toward the cafeteria together, and—

“Huang Junzhuo, are you coming or not?”

And—

A girl, standing across the street after class, smiling radiantly as she called out to her childhood friend to walk home together.

It was a scene from the original MV.

An MV, yet not quite.

This was an obviously reworked audio sequence. In the original, the conversation between the boy and girl was fragmented, sketching out the story while maintaining a fast-paced rhythm.

The background was filled with crisp, sunny ambient sounds.

Then, at a certain moment, all the sounds suddenly cut off.

In the MV, the girl’s inner monologue rang out:

“Huang Junzhuo.”

“I. Like. You.”

The soft scratching of chalk filled the silence, followed by a mischievous smile hidden behind the corner of a message wall.

Just as this scene crystallized in everyone’s minds, the stage lights flashed on.

A boy in a sky-blue jacket propped himself up with one hand and jumped down from a nearby prop desk. As he walked toward the center of the stage, he lifted his gaze with a bright smile and sang the opening line:

“Every moment, I’m thinking of you—wondering when you’ll finally say it.”

His voice was clear and gentle, like a bowl of soft shaved ice on a summer afternoon.

Almost the moment those words left his lips, Jing Jin’s tightly clenched hands relaxed around the railing.

Dazed, she lifted her eyes—and met her brother’s warm, smiling gaze.

It was like a memory from long ago, before that terrible car accident, back when summer evenings still carried the warmth of the wind as they walked through the streets together.

This was, without a doubt, a successful performance.

The unexpected MV snippets at the beginning set the atmosphere, and right after, Xie Xizhao’s introduction seamlessly carried forward the lingering imagery in the audience’s minds. His vocals were incredibly steady—so steady that Lan Yezhou, sitting nearby, couldn’t help but glance up.

The ballpoint pen in his hand traced absentminded lines across his notebook, marking who knew how many strokes.

After Xie Xizhao, Ai Qingyuan took over.

His lines were:

“Thinking back to the ice cream we shared as kids;

And the wind chimes on the street corner.”

His expression remained as cool as ever, but his technique was solid.

Next, another boy—one who looked bright and cheerful—jumped in:

“Mom always said we should hurry up and grow up,

But once we become adults, we start playing dumb.”

His final note carried a playful lilt, and his voice was crisp.

His singing skills were a little weaker, but this line was almost spoken rather than sung, so he delivered it flawlessly.

Three lines, each perfectly suited to the singer’s vocal range.

The original fragmented choreography for this section had been simplified into strategic positioning and movements, so even the two weaker trainees were able to sing and dance without their voices trembling.

Soon, the song reached the chorus.

As the killing part, the chorus naturally fell to the center position—Ai Qingyuan.

And he was more than capable of carrying it.

However, just when everyone thought the song had been adapted into a breezy, refreshing little love tune, the instrumental suddenly shifted key for a brief moment.

The lights dimmed slightly, though the warm undertones remained.

But the once lively and free-flowing stage suddenly tightened. Under the flickering stage lights, all the trainees gathered at the center, performing a short dance break during the song’s interlude.

Every movement was crisp and precise.

The cameraman must have been thrilled—one could easily imagine that, during the broadcast, this part would be shown in a wide shot to capture the synchronized dance in all its glory.

As the interlude ended, leaving a brief moment of silence, Xie Xizhao’s gentle voice carried the melody forward.

…

A four-minute song—without a single wasted note.

As the performance concluded, the entire venue fell into complete silence.

Half a second later, the room erupted into thunderous cheers. The mentors at the judges’ table stood up, applauding one after another.

Confetti fluttered through the air as Xie Xizhao breathed lightly, catching his breath.

For the final ending pose, the five members gathered at the center, and he sat slightly to the side.

The camera zoomed in on him, capturing his personal ending shot.

He lifted his head, locking eyes with the dark, endless lens.

For a few seconds, he seemed frozen.

Then, he smiled—and softly winked at the camera.

As if making a silent promise, a secret hidden in the summer evening breeze, meant only for those watching beyond the lens.

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