Chapter 42: Second Round Song Selection
The air fell silent for a moment.
Fu Wenze and Guan Heng, who were nearby, both looked up in surprise.
Yun Pan did not notice their gazes.
The silence made his ears flush red in an instant, as if he were a socially anxious little rabbit suddenly thrown onto the community stage in front of an audience of elders.
Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on the edge of his clothes, but his eyes remained fixed on Xie Xizhao.
Xie Xizhao was also slightly surprised.
After a brief pause, he said, “What I just told Qingyuan was the truth.”
“I know,” Yun Pan quickly replied.
He lowered his voice and said, “If you agree, I’ll go wherever you go. I don’t mind at all.”
The moment he finished speaking, Ai Qingyuan, who had been eavesdropping from the restroom, couldn’t hold back anymore.
“What kind of joke is this?” he said. “If Xie Xizhao sings rock, you’ll go too?”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
Considering Yun Pan’s background, he probably could.
Xie Xizhao did not respond immediately. Instead, he lowered his gaze and thought for a few seconds.
Over the past couple of days, Yun Pan had visibly grown closer to him. He could tell that the other was naturally slow to warm up to people. Though the trust Yun Pan was offering felt somewhat sudden, he found the kid rather endearing and didn’t want to upset him.
After deliberating for a moment, he said, “If you want to join, of course you can.”
“The condition is that you’ve thought it through—and that you can guess which song I’ll choose.”
His ranking was ahead of Yun Pan’s, so he would be selecting his song first. While the show hadn’t explicitly stated that entering a particular room confirmed one’s song choice, randomly guessing room after room would be both awkward and ridiculous. It was obvious that most people wouldn’t do something like that.
“I’ve thought it through,” Yun Pan answered immediately, without even pausing to consider. He really did seem to be only worried that Xie Xizhao would reject him.
Xie Xizhao ruffled Yun Pan’s hair.
—
That evening, he rarely allowed himself a break, but he made an exception to visit Ji Yan.
Ji Yan had just finished working out and wiped off his sweat. “Panpan and Xia Ruiyan? I really don’t know much about that.”
“All I know is that everyone who knows them says they have a good relationship,” he continued. “And the company seems to want to bind them together as a CP. As for the details… Xia Ruiyan wouldn’t say anything, and Panpan’s personality is just…”
He paused. “Panpan’s personality makes it hard to tell.”
Neither of them had thought much about it before.
But after what happened with Xia Ruiyan a few days ago, thinking back on it now—if Xia Ruiyan had even a little real affection for Yun Pan, he wouldn’t have been so eager and decisive in trying to cut ties.
Xie Xizhao thought the same.
Not wanting Ji Yan to worry, he didn’t mention Yun Pan’s determination to join his team. Instead, he simply said, “It’s fine. I got it.”
—
Just like that, time flew by, and the day of the second-round song selection recording finally arrived.
When they gathered in the practice room again, even though they had already experienced an elimination, seeing the room now half-empty still filled everyone with emotion.
But that feeling quickly gave way to tension.
On the surface, the trainees had maintained a calm front these past few days.
But behind the scenes—just like how Xia Ruiyan had approached Xie Xizhao—trainees at every ranking level had their own strategies and calculations.
Everything would be decided by today’s final results.
Since the song selection recording counted as an official schedule, Xie Xizhao indulged in a rare treat—a cup of iced Americano. He tried his best to suppress the urge to frown as the makeup artist worked on his face. After a moment of contemplation, the makeup artist remarked, “You seem to be looking a lot better recently.”
Xie Xizhao smiled. “Yeah, my health has improved a bit.”
“You’re something else,” the makeup artist chuckled. “Everyone says joining a group like this is pure physical torture, just look at how drained everyone over there looks. But somehow, you’ve actually managed to get healthier.”
Yun Pan was sitting right next to Xie Xizhao.
He seemed to have been struggling with insomnia lately—nodding off mid-makeup session, his golden head tilting dangerously forward.
Just as he was about to fall over, Xie Xizhao casually steadied his head with one hand while sipping his coffee with the other. Without much concern, he said, “It’s all about having the right mindset. If I don’t debut, worst case, I’ll just go back and study math.”
The surrounding trainees, most of whom had flunked their academic subjects: “…”
Maybe… maybe you should just go back and study math.
Xie Xizhao either didn’t hear their internal complaints or simply chose to ignore them.
After finishing his iced Americano, he let out a quiet sigh of relief and got up.
Meanwhile, Xia Ruiyan, who had been watching discreetly, averted his gaze and looked at his own reflection in the mirror.
Someone next to him murmured, “Brother Yan, about Yun Pan…”
“It’s fine,” Xia Ruiyan replied flatly. “Let him be.”
“He’s just a kid,” he lowered his eyes, sounding indifferent. “I’ve been busy lately. I’ll talk to him when things settle down.”
Not long after, a staff member’s voice called from outside, announcing that everyone needed to gather.
The trainees all made their way to the activity room.
—
Today, the main MC was Li Lin.
She wore a pink-and-white dress paired with matching boots, giving off a soft and adorable vibe. Just standing there, she was already a refreshing sight.
Compared to Dou Yu and Qiu Xuerui, her hosting style was clearly more energetic.
As soon as she opened, she beamed and said, “Good morning, everyone! Did you sleep well last night?”
The response from the trainees was brutally honest:
“No—We—Didn’t—!”
Li Lin burst out laughing.
She teased, “Come on, you guys! It’s just a stage selection. If you’re this nervous now, what are you going to do on finals night?”
“It’s fine, Teacher Li,” one trainee replied earnestly. “I won’t make it to the finals anyway.”
As soon as those words fell, laughter rippled through the room.
And just like that, in a lighthearted and cheerful atmosphere, the recording officially began.
Li Lin switched to a new cue card, adjusted the microphone, and spoke. “Alright, now let’s unveil the song selection you’ve all been waiting for.”
She paused. “Is there a particular kind of stage you’re hoping for?”
The moment she said that, the room erupted into excited chatter.
Most of the trainees had at least some passion for the idol industry, and they were all familiar with the biggest names in the business. One after another, the names of famous idols and popular groups were thrown around.
To an outsider, it might’ve sounded like a chaotic roll call at an end-of-year award show.
Li Lin patiently waited for them to finish before flashing a mysterious smile.
“Looks like the production team really knows you well,” she said playfully.
As cheers and excited murmurs filled the room, she nodded at the staff beside her.
The next second, the first audio preview started playing.
—
The moment the clip began, the top-ranking trainees fell silent.
Xie Xizhao’s fingers lightly touched the die in his pocket.
The cool touch against his fingertips was just the right temperature—enough to keep him calm and focused.
On the whiteboard in front of them, the group divisions were already written: Vocal, Dance, Rap, and Composition.
The first song—a ballad.
As the familiar melody filled the room, Xie Xizhao froze for a moment.
At the same time, the people around him all turned to look at him—including the cameras that had been recording reaction shots the entire time.
Xie Xizhao let out a small laugh.
The first song wasn’t just any random track—it was the song he had once mentioned during his initial stage performance, a song he had said he really liked.
Lan Yezhou’s ” Dead Leaf Butterfly in the Rain.”
Once the song finished playing, Li Lin, as expected, pointed the microphone at him.
“Trainee Xie Xizhao,” she called with a smile. “Do you have anything to say?”
As the mic was passed to him, Xie Xizhao thought for a moment before answering honestly, “It feels like I’m back in the middle of my college entrance exams.”
Li Lin blinked, caught off guard.
From the side, Dou Yu chuckled. “Well, this song is known as the ‘battle anthem’ for exams.”
Lan Yezhou rarely wrote love songs.
This particular track had a grand, almost magnificent sorrow to it. When it exploded in popularity, it was even frequently used in motivational montage edits for exams.
His response was clever.
It neatly sidestepped the issue of whether or not he would choose the song while still emphasizing his familiarity with it.
Realizing this, Li Lin shot him a look of appreciation before smoothly continuing the conversation with Dou Yu. After a brief exchange, she signaled for the staff to play the next track.
The second song was also a ballad.
However, unlike the first, this one featured more vocal runs and high notes.
The original singer of this song was also a solo artist, though they were particularly renowned for their technical skill and vocal tone.
As the snippet came to an end, Xie Xizhao’s idle tapping on the die in his pocket also stopped.
“What do you think?” Guan Heng asked in a low voice.
“It’s a good choice,” Xie Xizhao replied.
—
Xie Xizhao was simply being honest.
His decision to participate in Super Rookie was both complicated and straightforward.
Complicated—because it had been a perfect storm of timing, opportunity, and circumstance. At the time, his popularity had been rising, Super Rookie had just begun its auditions, and the recording location happened to be in his city.
Straightforward—because he knew this show was going to blow up.
No matter how many personal agendas or hidden calculations Ma Hongping and Lu Yan had, they still prioritized the show’s quality above all else.
And these two song choices were a clear reflection of that.
Lan Yezhou was a textbook example of a pop artist. His songs had simple melodies and relatable lyrics, making them highly accessible to the general public. Among the newer generation of male singers, he was one of the rare few who balanced both mainstream popularity and raw talent.
That popularity, however, also made his music feel somewhat… overly commercial.
Xie Xizhao had spoken with Lan Yezhou about this before, and the singer had been candid about his choices.
“Writing a song that’s both a mass hit and an artistic masterpiece? That’s almost impossible,” he had said. “The muse doesn’t drop by your house every day.”
Xie Xizhao had wholeheartedly agreed.
If Lan Yezhou’s music was catchy but lacked technical challenge, then the second song was the complete opposite—a textbook case of musical elitism.
It wasn’t that this vocal showcase piece was unpleasant to listen to.
It was just… exhausting.
Xie Xizhao wasn’t a fan of that kind of song—he preferred music that didn’t sound like a full-body workout.
Of course, some people thrived on that kind of challenge.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zou Yi’s eyes light up.
He continued listening as the recording moved on to the Dance group’s song selections.
One song had a traditional Chinese influence, while the other was a boy group dance track.
Again, exactly what he had expected.
He sighed internally, feeling a headache coming on.
“Why that face?” Qiao Ye, sitting a seat away, caught his expression and leaned in to talk to him.
Their seats for the day were arranged according to their rankings.
To his left sat Guan Heng, while the trainee ranked sixth on his right was someone he wasn’t very familiar with. He didn’t know Qiao Ye well either, but from the moment they had gathered, Qiao Ye had looked utterly bored, itching for a conversation. Now, he had finally found his chance.
Perhaps because of the recording, the usual sharp smell of smoke on him was gone.
Xie Xizhao felt much more comfortable and responded gently, explaining, “I just feel a bit conflicted.”
Qiao Ye immediately understood.
Then he grinned. “Then come rap with me.”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
“No worries,” Qiao Ye said. “If you don’t know how, I’ll teach you.”
Guan Heng, sitting between them, coughed.
Fu Wenze, who had accidentally overheard from a short distance away, also silently averted his gaze.
Qiao Ye remained completely oblivious.
He found Xie Xizhao fascinating—someone strikingly beautiful and seemingly fragile, yet somehow incredibly strong at the same time. Straight guys had no resistance to that kind of person, especially if they happened to be looks-oriented straight guys.
But Xie Xizhao didn’t seem interested in entertaining him.
After being politely rejected, Qiao Ye slunk back to his seat, looking somewhat disappointed.
Inside Xie Xizhao’s pocket, the die flipped over, its two dots facing upward—like a pair of nostrils staring at the sky.
—
Before long, all six song previews had been played.
The final two songs were both rap tracks, each with a distinct style. It was worth noting that while they belonged to the rap group, both songs leaned more toward a well-rounded, full-composition structure rather than pure rap.
Both were massively popular idol songs.
It was clear that the production team had put considerable effort into the song selection—at the very least, they must have paid quite a hefty sum in licensing fees.
Since the creation group would be writing their own songs, there were no preview clips for them. So once the rap group clips had finished playing, Li Lin picked up the microphone and asked, “Alright, has everyone made up their minds?”
This time, the entire group responded in unison: “Nooo—”
And they genuinely hadn’t.
Those with weaker skills found every song overwhelmingly difficult. Those who excelled in just one area worried that if they chose a popular song, they’d be squeezed out. Others were simply struggling with indecision.
Xie Xizhao felt like every song could work for him, yet at the same time, none of them seemed quite right.
Amidst this collective hesitation, Li Lin had already begun calling people up to choose.
The first was Ai Qingyuan.
He stepped forward, and Li Lin asked, “Qingyuan, have you decided which group you’re joining?”
Ai Qingyuan replied coolly, “I have.”
Straight to the point.
“Oh? And which group is that?” Li Lin wasn’t expecting such a direct answer and hesitated slightly before quickly following up.
Ai Qingyuan gave her a smile and then, with a deadpan expression, said, “Guess.”
Li Lin: “…”
The trainees in the audience: “…”
Seriously? What a pain in the ass.
The most openly annoyed among them was Qiao Ye, seated beside Guan Heng. Xie Xizhao heard him mutter, “What kind of brute-force straight dude is this? So uncivilized.”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
I’d say you two are equally bad.
Guan Heng lowered his voice and asked, “Where do you think Qingyuan will go?”
Xie Xizhao didn’t even need to think. “Click.”
One of the two dance group songs.
Ai Qingyuan was an all-rounder, but this fast-paced dance track was much more his style.
And, of course, there was another reason.
Ever since Xie Xizhao had bluntly pointed out his voice crack during his debut stage, Ai Qingyuan seemed to have developed a psychological block when it came to singing. It had already been somewhat apparent during the first performance round.
Guan Heng chuckled. “I was thinking of making a bet with you.”
Xie Xizhao smiled as well. “We can bet on the next one.”
The second person called up—Xia Ruiyan.
When Xia Ruiyan went on stage, Yun Pan remained seated in his spot the entire time, not sparing him a single glance.
His silent, downcast expression made the trainee beside him a little worried. The trainee kept watching him and finally couldn’t help but ask, “Panpan, are you feeling unwell?”
No matter how competitive things were, everyone showed a bit more concern for the younger trainees.
Yun Pan was startled.
Then he realized that the person beside him was speaking to him.
He shook his head. “N-no, I’m fine.”
He added, “Brother, I’m not feeling unwell.”
The person next to him still looked worried.
Just then, Xia Ruiyan lazily glanced in their direction.
At that exact moment, Yun Pan happened to look up.
The instant their gazes met, he instinctively clenched the hem of his clothes.
He hadn’t returned to the dormitory for days. In the blink of an eye, almost a week had passed.
The reason he gave to the dorm supervisor was that he had neurasthenia and was prone to insomnia. It wasn’t exactly a lie—he was indeed highly sensitive, and under pressure, he would easily become anxious, suffer from insomnia, or even binge eat.
But that wasn’t the real reason he wanted to move out.
He took a deep breath as that suffocating, nightmare-like fear crept up from the depths of his heart again.
Without thinking, he reached into his pocket.
The moment his fingers touched the hard candy in his palm, his racing heart gradually steadied. It was the candy Xie Xizhao had given him that morning.
The young man’s gentle and calm voice overlapped with the familiar voices in his memory.
Lowering his eyes, he silently murmured in his heart: ‘Brother.’
No one responded.
—
Meanwhile, on the other side, Xie Xizhao withdrew his gaze thoughtfully.
“What did you say?” he asked. “Sorry, I spaced out just now.”
Guan Heng said, “It’s nothing. I was just saying that Xia Ruiyan is still more likely to join the dance group.”
He paused for a moment. “Are you looking at Yun Pan?”
“Mm.” Xie Xizhao replied, “He seems to have something on his mind lately.”
Guan Heng suddenly understood.
“They’re from the same company, right?” he said. “I thought they’d join the same group. After all, they’ve been tied together since the first stage.”
That was why he had been so surprised that day.
Xie Xizhao neither agreed nor disagreed, simply saying, “I don’t think Xia Ruiyan will go to the dance group.”
Guan Heng was a little surprised.
“Want to bet?” Xie Xizhao lowered his gaze, speaking lazily as his fingers tapped slowly against the dice. “One meal.”
Guan Heng agreed without hesitation. “Sure.”
There was no need to bet on the third one.
Qiao Ye was practically broadcasting his intention to join the rap group from head to toe—he might as well have set off fireworks to announce it to the world.
He stood up easily, relaxed, and before leaving, extended yet another sincere invitation to Xie Xizhao. After being declined once again, his mood visibly soured, at least enough that he no longer looked like a peacock in full display.
Guan Heng and Xie Xizhao silently watched as the peac—Qiao Ye disappeared down the hallway toward the practice room.
Then, Guan Heng stood up and looked down at Xie Xizhao. “Should I be looking forward to our reunion?”
Xie Xizhao said, “Teacher Guan, the camera is over there.”
Guan Heng: “…”
He chuckled. “You really are something else.”
“I’ll be waiting for you in the room,” he said.
Xie Xizhao graciously humored him. “Even if I’m not in the same group as you, I’ll drop by to say hello later.”
Guan Heng sighed. “Hearing you say that, I suddenly have a very bad feeling about this.”
With that uneasy feeling, Guan Heng left.
Soon, Xie Xizhao heard his name from Li Lin’s mouth.
He stood up.
After a brief conversation, he pushed open the door at the back of the practice room.
In the hallway, all the doors were quietly closed.
Xie Xizhao glanced at them one by one until his gaze finally settled on a particular door.
