Chapter 30: On-Site Vote
More than just the cameras had captured Xie Xizhao’s wink.
By the middle of the performance, the entire atmosphere had been fully ignited.
Unlike the pure adrenaline rush that came with explosive performances, this stage offered more of an immersive enjoyment.
It wasn’t overly sentimental, nor did it have dramatic emotional highs and lows.
A lively and dynamic performance, yet it delivered a thoroughly satisfying audiovisual experience.
The once-weary audience no longer felt fatigued. Watching the dreamlike stage, they seemed to have been transported back to their youth along with the trainees on stage.
Among all the trainees, most people’s gazes unconsciously landed on Xie Xizhao.
It was strange.
Clearly, he wasn’t the one with the most parts in the group, nor was he the most stylistically suited to this song. Yet, among the five members on stage, he was inexplicably dazzling—impossible to ignore.
That wink of his had been caught almost instantly by the audience in that direction. Small murmurs of discussion rippled through the crowd, accompanied by a few quiet squeals from young girls.
“I used to think he wasn’t suited for this stage…” a girl beside Jing Jin murmured.
Jing Jin hadn’t even processed what she said before blurting out, “How is that possible? My bro is only 22, okay? Round it down, and he’s basically 18. This stage was tailor-made for him!”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she froze.
Crap!
The girl: ?
She suddenly snapped to attention. “You switched favorites?”
Jing Jin: “…”
“And you switched to our rival group!” The girl’s voice shot up.
Jing Jin chuckled awkwardly. “Uh… didn’t we say we wouldn’t acknowledge them as rivals? That calling them our rival was just giving them free clout?”
One was ranked first, the other twentieth.
For the top-ranking one to recognize the other as a rival did sound embarrassing. Though, in Jing Jin’s opinion, by that logic, losing to someone ranked twentieth seemed even more humiliating.
The girl: “…”
Now that she thought about it, that was what they had said before.
But she wasn’t going to let this slide so easily. “Who did you just vote for?”
Jing Jin shuddered.
Just now.
Just now, she had…
But what was she supposed to do?!
Her brother had just winked at them!
The same brother who had always kept his distance, never receiving love letters or chocolates, the gentle yet aloof older brother—was now flirting on stage?
How was she supposed to endure that?!
Of course, she had to reward him!
She cleared her throat. “Uh… I can explain.”
The girl stared at her.
“If I told you that the ‘brother’ I just called out to…” Jing Jin hesitated before continuing with difficulty, “…is actually my literal brother, as in we share DNA—would you believe me?”
The girl: ?
“Huh?”
—
While Jing Jin was still struggling to explain the complicated ethical dilemma of her relationship with Xie Xizhao, the stage had already been reset.
Group A’s trainees had stepped aside while Dou Yu and Group B took their places.
Both teams appeared calm. Given the quality of their performances, they had every reason to be confident.
Dou Yu picked up the microphone first.
He was the first to witness both groups’ performances, yet he still felt a sense of nostalgia.
In the blink of an eye, his era had already passed. And now, even the newcomers had grown this formidable.
But the sentiment only lasted a moment.
Quickly composing himself, he spoke up.
His first question, however, was directed at Guan Heng beside him. “Junior, are you nervous?”
His voice carried a smile.
Guan Heng smiled as well. His features were delicate—not as striking as Xie Xizhao’s, but he shared a similar gentle aura. That smile left quite a few people in the audience momentarily dazed.
Then, he picked up the microphone and replied, “Not at all.”
His tone was firm.
“I’m curious, and I believe everyone here is curious too,” Dou Yu continued, “Why did you choose to compete against Qingyuan instead of being on the same team?”
The moment the words left his mouth, a wave of excitement rippled through the crowd.
In talent shows and idol groups, CP (couple pairing) culture was always a major attraction, and it wasn’t uncommon for contestants to gain popularity through it. Regardless of their actual orientations, most trainees were used to it—treating fan service as just another part of their job.
That said, fan service didn’t even need to be deliberate.
To CP fans, good relationships meant love, bad relationships meant tragic love, and no relationship at all? That just meant an upcoming fated love story.
There were plenty of CPs in Super Rookie, but CPs thrived on popularity.
Currently, among all the pairings, Ai Qingyuan and Guan Heng—who came from the same company and ranked high—were the most talked about.
This was a question Guan Heng had already discussed with Ai Qingyuan in private.
His reason? Standing at center stage meant more exposure.
A practical and perfectly reasonable answer—one that Ai Qingyuan fully understood.
But this time, Guan Heng simply smiled and gave a different answer than the one he had shared in private.
“I’ve stood beside Qingyuan for so long—I wanted to see what it feels like to stand across from him and have him look at me.”
Ai Qingyuan froze.
Xie Xizhao let out a low “wow.”
That was a solid line.
Sure enough, quite a few girls in the audience blushed on the spot.
It was easy to predict—once the performance was over, this line would spread like wildfire across major platforms, especially in CP fan circles.
Xie Xizhao watched the scene unfold with amusement. Ai Qingyuan, having snapped back to reality, twitched the corner of his mouth. “…Want me to get you some sunflower seeds?”
So he could sit back and enjoy the show.
Xie Xizhao was humble. “No need, no need.”
The brief interaction segment soon ended. Since Xie Xizhao was on the production team’s unofficial blacklist, there was no chance he’d get called on to speak in such settings.
So, he shamelessly let his mind wander.
After the massive energy drain from the performance, he was still feeling a bit sluggish. A teammate beside him seemed to notice and quietly asked if he was okay.
He shook his head. Meanwhile, Dou Yu had already moved on to the voting appeal segment.
Typically, the center and the team leader handled this part. By the time it was Xie Xizhao’s turn, he finally focused, delivering the prepared speech and making sure to mention all his teammates so the audience would remember them. Then, he passed the microphone to Ai Qingyuan.
Ai Qingyuan took it, eyes lowered in thought.
After a moment, he looked up.
“Is anyone curious why I ended up in the same group as Xie Xizhao?”
Xie Xizhao: ?
He looked up, and even Dou Yu turned to him.
The entire venue erupted in noise.
Why were Xie Xizhao and Ai Qingyuan in the same group?
It was a question that had crossed many people’s minds—aside from the highly anticipated match-up between fellow trainees from the same company.
But since Dou Yu hadn’t brought it up, most had forgotten about it.
In reality, this was a topic the production team could have used to stir up drama.
So why didn’t they?
Xie Xizhao didn’t even need to think to know the answer.
One reason was that they didn’t want to give him extra attention. The popularity gap between him and Ai Qingyuan was massive—one ranked first, the other twentieth. Logically, their paths shouldn’t have crossed.
The initial battle for Center had already unexpectedly given him a boost, and the production team would never fan the flames of any narrative that suggested he was still competing with Ai Qingyuan for the top spot.
The other reason…
Xie Xizhao glanced at Ai Qingyuan and almost sighed.
The production team had deliberately avoided mentioning the group selection process to protect Ai Qingyuan. Most likely, the whole selection controversy wouldn’t even make it into the final edit. After all, Ai Qingyuan’s decision had been highly controversial.
And yet, here he was, bringing it up.
Not only bringing it up—but making a big deal out of it.
“Because I wanted to compete against him again,” Ai Qingyuan said. “Back when we were choosing the Center position, I lost to him. I wanted to see if I was truly not as good as him.”
Xie Xizhao picked up his mic. His response was heartfelt.
“No, you’re amazing. Really.”
Did he not see that even Guan Heng was struggling to keep up the smile?
Ai Qingyuan, by now, knew that this guy was far less gentle than he appeared. That response? Pure sarcasm.
He raised an eyebrow, deciding to be the bigger person and let it slide.
“But now,” Ai Qingyuan continued, “I’ve almost forgotten what it felt like to need to win against him.”
Xie Xizhao was slightly surprised.
He lifted his gaze, but Ai Qingyuan wasn’t looking at him. Instead, he continued speaking to the audience.
“It’s been fun being in the same group as him. Since he won’t say it himself, I’ll say it for him—Stand By’s final stage only turned out like this because he was involved in every part of it. The stage design, the arrangement, even that intro audio—he worked on all of it, tweaking every detail bit by bit until we got this result.”
He paused for a moment.
“I really love this stage, and I hope you all do too. Even though Brother Heng is on the other team, we’re competitors right now, and we’re here for a fair match. If you liked our performance, please vote for us.”
“Of course—”
Another pause.
“I still really want to win against him. So for the upcoming individual votes within our group, I also hope you’ll give me the result and answer I’m looking for. Thank you.”
With that, he lowered the mic.
At the same time, the massive screen behind them slowly started rolling numbers.
Voting had begun.
—
The public performance votes in Super Rookie were split into two parts.
The first was the in-group vote, where each group’s MVP was chosen.
This vote would remain open until the end of the competition cycle. This was the “result” Ai Qingyuan was waiting for.
The second part was the team battle vote—closing right now.
Between Group A and Group B, the audience had to decide which team delivered the better performance. The winning team’s members would receive bonus votes.
These bonus votes were directly added to their accumulated scores for the first elimination round.
For Stand By’s A and B groups, though, this reward was practically useless—every single member was already safely ranked in the top forty.
And soon, the results were in.
Out of the 500 audience members present, Group A received 397 votes, while Group B only got 103.
The gap was about what Xie Xizhao had expected.
But the other trainees in his group didn’t have his experience—joy was already spreading across their faces, impossible to contain.
A high vote count meant the stage had been well received. That, in turn, meant more buzz when the episode aired. And more buzz meant a better chance of making it to the end.
The group members exchanged quick hugs. As they celebrated, Xie Xizhao glanced toward Group B.
The bonus votes might have been meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but no one liked losing. The atmosphere over there was heavy, subdued.
Guan Heng stood at the back, partially blocked by his teammates.
From Xie Xizhao’s angle, he could just barely see the way Guan Heng was staring at the numbers on the screen—stunned, motionless.
Xie Xizhao hesitated for a moment.
“Xie Xizhao,” Ai Qingyuan called his name. “What are you looking at?”
Xie Xizhao snapped back to reality.
“Nothing.” He withdrew his gaze.
“Let’s go,” Ai Qingyuan said. “Time to wait for the individual results.”
They both waved one last time toward the audience before heading offstage together, back toward the waiting room.
—
On the way back, Xie Xizhao and Ai Qingyuan walked at the back of the group.
Ai Qingyuan said, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Xie Xizhao responded, “Hm?”
“You were pretty talkative at the fan meeting.” Ai Qingyuan let out a cold snort. “I saw your fans saying you must have put a spell on them.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “Why didn’t you mention that you were the one leading our practice just now?”
Xie Xizhao hesitated for two seconds before answering honestly, “Because I knew it would get edited out anyway.”
Ai Qingyuan: “……”
What a brutally honest reason. And to think he had overanalyzed it, coming up with all sorts of unnecessary explanations.
“You even called out Zou Yi,” he said. “But you’re just as…”
He recalled Xie Xizhao’s words from earlier and changed his phrasing. “Selfless.”
If it were him, he wouldn’t have had the patience to guide a bunch of nobodies through practice.
Of course, he didn’t consider himself one of those nobodies.
Xie Xizhao chuckled. “I’m not as selfless as he is.”
He wouldn’t give up the parts that were rightfully his, nor would he sacrifice his own opportunities just to make room for others.
Ai Qingyuan thought he was doing unpaid labor, but Xie Xizhao knew that wasn’t entirely the case. Wanting to help the younger contestants was part of it. But more importantly, he understood that in a survival show, only when the team was noticed first could an individual have the chance to stand out.
A performance going viral was ultimately beneficial to all of them. And he was part of the team.
Besides, arranging music, choreographing, and even stage design were all effortless tasks for him.
Ai Qingyuan didn’t understand this. Or maybe he did but simply couldn’t be bothered.
Xie Xizhao had no interest in lecturing others, so he simply said—
“Thanks.”
No matter what, Ai Qingyuan had indeed helped him.
“…Why does it feel so weird hearing you say thank you?”
Ai Qingyuan muttered under his breath.
—
The two of them returned to the waiting room, where all the trainees inside stood up as soon as they entered.
Everyone had just watched the stage performance—saying they weren’t blown away would be a lie.
Ji Yan, who was the most familiar with Xie Xizhao, rushed over without hesitation. “Brother, your group was freaking amazing!!”
Xie Xizhao staggered slightly from the impact, a little helpless. “…Ji Yan, could you try being a more composed person?”
Ji Yan dramatically declared, “What is composure? Can you eat it? All I know is that your wink shot straight into my heart, and now I want to slide down your eyelashes like a playground slide.”
“Go slide somewhere else.” Ai Qingyuan grabbed him by the back of his collar and tossed him aside, annoyed. “Don’t block the screen.”
As they spoke, the screen changed.
Displayed on it was:
[“Stand By” Group A Individual Vote Results.]
On the left, a column listed all their names, while the right side remained blank, waiting to be filled with votes.
Ai Qingyuan swallowed hard.
Saying he wasn’t nervous would be a lie. At this moment, he felt more anxious than when his college entrance exam results had come out.
—Though, to be fair, after his exams, he had packed up and headed straight for Shenghong Entertainment. Studying had never interested him in the slightest; only singing and dancing did.
Almost instinctively, he wanted to look for Guan Heng.
For years, he had grown used to having Guan Heng by his side. He had an older brother, but their family had always been emotionally distant. In a way, Guan Heng felt more like a real brother to him than his own blood.
But Guan Heng wasn’t here.
He had no choice but to turn back again. Xie Xizhao was sitting right next to him, looking as composed as ever.
“Hey,” Ai Qingyuan said.
Xie Xizhao replied, “First of all, my name isn’t—‘hey’.”
“Your dice.” Ai Qingyuan hesitated, then muttered awkwardly, “Give it a roll.”
Xie Xizhao: “……”
Without hesitation, he pulled it out and handed it directly to Ai Qingyuan.
Ai Qingyuan stared at it for a while. Something about the dice felt unusually intricate, yet the texture was smooth and comfortable in his hands. No wonder Xie Xizhao liked to fiddle with it whenever he had nothing to do.
He tried tossing it, but miscalculated his strength.
Just as the dice was about to hit the ground, a hand shot out beside him and caught it effortlessly.
A smooth, pale palm opened up.
The dice landed with a glowing green 2 facing up.
Ai Qingyuan: “……”
His lips twitched. “This…”
Xie Xizhao appeared thoughtful.
“Not accurate.” He put the dice away and explained, “I just roll it for fun. Don’t take it seriously.”
Ai Qingyuan: “……”
Could you not make it look even more suspicious?!
He had only rolled it to relieve his nerves, but now, thanks to this coincidental number, his mind was even more tangled.
Just as his thoughts spiraled, someone suddenly exclaimed, “The results are out!”
His head snapped up.
First column: Ai Qingyuan (C)
Live vote count: 187.
The room fell completely silent.
Was this a high score? Compared to the other performances so far, it definitely was.
Out of 500 total votes split among five members, 187 meant he had nearly two-fifths of the total. For any trainee ranking outside the top five, this was an enviable result.
But this was Ai Qingyuan.
For the past three weeks, Ai Qingyuan had held an undisputed first place.
Based on that trend, he should have received at least half of the votes.
But 187 votes only meant one thing—
Because of the live stage performance, the votes had been split among the group.
Although Ai Qingyuan and Xie Xizhao’s bet had seemed like a joke, most people in the room were aware of it.
Everyone quickly started analyzing the situation in their heads.
Normally, votes within a group were distributed according to individual popularity.
But there were always exceptions.
To maintain balance, the live audience wasn’t composed entirely of fans. Unless someone had an overwhelmingly strong fanbase, it was unlikely that the entire audience would consist of just their supporters.
This was the charm of live performances. And it was also why some trainees managed to turn the tables through public performances.
Online voting was all about popularity and fan loyalty. But in a live setting, as long as you performed well, anyone had a chance to rise. When fans weren’t voting for their own favorite, they tended to be more objective, casting votes purely based on stage performance.
187 votes.
A very delicate number.
In this group, Ai Qingyuan was the only real top contender. The rest were more or less at the same level.
It was possible that the remaining votes had been distributed evenly among the others.
But there was also another possibility—
One person had taken the majority of Ai Qingyuan’s votes.
…Could that be?
Would he be surpassed again?
The first time was during the trainees’ internal vote, which could have been dismissed as a result of personal biases—after all, Ai Qingyuan had never been particularly well-liked.
But this?
This was a live audience vote.
As the center, Ai Qingyuan should have had the most fans in the audience.
Even with votes being distributed, he still had the advantage.
So… would he really—
The next moment, the numbers refreshed.
A bold, striking red indicating first place.
Second column: Xie Xizhao (L)
Live vote count: 206.
A 19-vote difference.
The Group A winner of Stand By—
Xie Xizhao.
Yaaaaay! 🎉🎉🎉✨✨✨