Chapter 45.2: Casual Attractiveness Ab*se
Xie Xizhao saved the demo of the third song in a separate folder.
At that moment, Yun Pan finally saw the name of the demo:
“Boundless Sea.”
There was no doubt that this was a song highly suited for a live performance. After all, regardless of the style or genre of a band, the thrill of experiencing music live far surpassed listening through a screen. Moreover, even in this demo version, there was already a drum-backed high note so powerful it seemed to shake the soul.
The pitch was high, yet the tone was languid.
Even with the slight distortion from the electronic transmission, Yun Pan could tell—
It was Xie Xizhao’s voice.
No mistake.
In the end, Yun Pan followed his heart and chose his favorite style—band music.
His gut told him that Xie Xizhao wanted to hear his honest opinion.
What he hadn’t expected was that Xie Xizhao’s own first choice was also this song, “Boundless Sea,” a style that was very unlike him.
As they strolled back to the dormitory, Xie Xizhao explained his reasoning:
“When selecting songs like these, it’s not just about whether a song sounds good or not. You have to consider the practical circumstances as well.”
The six demos he had picked had already been carefully screened.
Boy band-style songs were a given, while the rest were also suitable for group performances, just with varying styles.
But the reason he leaned toward “Boundless Sea” was a decision made after the lineup was confirmed.
To be honest, he himself could work with any song. Aside from him, Yun Pan and Zou Yi were both main vocalists. Among the remaining four trainees, there were two he remembered, and their vocal skills surpassed their dance abilities.
Given that, choosing a song that highlighted vocals was the most suitable option.
Besides, there was another issue with their group’s lineup—more than half of them weren’t particularly strong dancers.
One notable feature of the second public performance in Super Rookie was its flexibility.
Since it was a position evaluation, the vocal group could perform while standing still, and the dance group wasn’t required to have their mics on.
As for the creative group, as long as they could compose a song, they had complete freedom on stage.
After Boundless Sea was rearranged into a band performance, the dance portion was effectively bypassed. For the trainees with lower rankings, this was actually a good thing.
Besides, a band had a significant advantage.
“There will be bonus votes in the second public performance as well,” Xie Xizhao said. “The group with the highest votes will receive 200,000 bonus votes per member. Bands tend to have an edge.”
Yun Pan suddenly understood.
His fingers curled slightly.
He realized that Xie Xizhao was thinking about the lower-ranked trainees.
With a shrinking vote pool later on, securing those 200,000 extra votes could eliminate any worries about advancing.
What Xie Xizhao didn’t know was that his casual decision had moved the younger trainees beyond measure.
To him, these factors weren’t ranked in priority. Choosing Boundless Sea was mainly because he couldn’t stand an unbalanced dance performance. As for everything else—if he could lend a hand, then it was simply an act of kindness.
Besides…
“This doesn’t mean you can slack off,” he said indifferently. “This song isn’t easy.”
Yun Pan jolted awake, suddenly alert.
—
At 10:30 p.m., Xi Kai emerged from the bathroom after washing up, muttered a quick “Going to sleep,” and flopped onto his bed.
In the darkness, he sneakily pulled out his phone and opened the voting page for Super Rookie.
After completing his daily task of voting for himself, he exhaled in relief as if finishing a mission. But then, staring at his rank—42nd—he began to worry again.
Yes, 42.
That was the ranking Xi Kai had received in the first round of Super Rookie.
To be honest, making it this far was already a huge surprise for him.
His company was a small one. They had sent four trainees to the show, and because the company was so minor, there wasn’t even a distinction between “royals” and non-royals. Two of their trainees had their initial stage performance completely cut from the broadcast.
His teammates had all been eliminated.
As for why he ended up at 42, it all started when he joined Zou Yi’s group in the first public performance.
Zou Yi was a good person.
That was something everyone in their group agreed on.
His vocal ability wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t particularly good either. The only reason he had managed to climb into the mid-ranks was simply because he had a good-looking face.
And during Zou Yi’s performance, Xi Kai had been noticed. The fact that his performance was better than some of his struggling teammates only made him stand out more. His fans had scrambled to organize a voting campaign overnight, forcefully dragging him up from the 50s to 42nd place.
It was an unexpected stroke of luck.
But people were always greedy.
Now, tossing and turning in bed, Xi Kai found himself unable to fall asleep.
Just then, his phone screen lit up with a WeChat notification—someone had sent a new message.
Y: Are you still awake?
Xi Kai quickly replied: Not yet.
The typing indicator flickered for a few minutes before a new message appeared.
Y: To be honest, I’m suddenly feeling a little worried again.
Xi Kai was startled.
Y’s full name was Yang Yinping, another member of the creative group.
The two of them were on good terms. They had even decided to join the creative group together.
Seeing Yang Yinping’s message, Xi Kai instinctively tensed.
Xi Kai: What’s wrong?
After some typing and backspacing, a series of messages finally came through.
Y: It’s about our group’s song.
Y: The more I think about it, the more I feel like letting Xie Xizhao use his own song without even trying to compose something ourselves was too hasty. I heard today that the show actually assigned us a mentor to teach us songwriting. Teacher Lan will also be coming to guide us.
Y: …I’m just wondering, what if the song Xie Xizhao picked isn’t suitable or just isn’t good? This is our last chance, after all.
Xi Kai was stunned.
Y kept typing.
Y: There’s another issue—the part distribution.
Y: You saw what happened in Xia Ruiyan’s group during the first public performance. If we use Xie Xizhao’s song, he’ll be the one deciding the part distribution, right?
Y: So…
This time, Xi Kai finally snapped out of his daze.
He hesitated before typing back:
—That’s unlikely, right? Xizhao seems like a pretty good guy.
Y: Who knows?
Y: Honestly, him, Zou Yi, Yun Pan—they’re all in the top ranks. Didn’t you notice how close they are?
Y: The high-ranking contestants are already busy competing for fans and votes. They don’t have time to care about whether we nobodies survive or not.
Xi Kai fell silent.
But after a moment, he still replied:
—I think you’re overthinking this, Yinping.
—First of all, we all agree that Xizhao is a good guy. And second, using someone’s unreleased original song is already a huge favor to us. Being too picky about it feels a bit ungrateful, don’t you think?
The typing indicator flickered for a few seconds.
Then, nothing.
No more replies.
Yang Yinping had a short temper and was sensitive by nature. He probably felt like Xi Kai was indirectly criticizing him and was now ignoring him.
Xi Kai sighed inwardly and turned off his screen.
But this time, sleep completely eluded him.
He understood why Yang Yinping was so anxious.
His ranking was 32, making him the highest-ranked contestant in their group aside from Xie Xizhao, Yun Pan, and Zou Yi.
To be honest, for trainees ranked in the 40s, their chances were slim, but that also meant they didn’t feel as much pressure. On the other hand, for someone like Yang Yinping, who was constantly hovering around the next elimination cutoff, the urgency was much greater.
For them, the second public performance was truly a matter of life or death.
Emotionally, Xi Kai understood Yang Yinping. But rationally, he couldn’t agree with his concerns.
He had already explained his reasoning.
But at the same time, he knew that once doubt took root, it wasn’t so easily dispelled.
…He could only hope that nothing would go wrong moving forward.
With that thought, he sighed inwardly.
When he opened his eyes again, it was already the next morning.
—
As it turned out, Yang Yinping wasn’t the only one with these worries.
When Xi Kai arrived at the cafeteria, two trainees approached him, carrying their trays.
They were the other two remaining members of the creative group.
Xi Kai hadn’t interacted with them much before, but perhaps because they were now in the same group, they seemed to consider him one of their own. They greeted him casually before sitting down beside him.
It was only then that Xi Kai realized—they were from the same company.
The two of them chatted while eating, while Xi Kai quietly focused on his meal. But soon, he caught a snippet of their conversation.
“I wonder what kind of song it’ll be.”
“Xie Xizhao is really skilled,” one of them replied. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s not that I’m worried… ah.” The first trainee muttered. “I mean, how many people in this industry can actually write songs? From what I’ve heard, most either hire ghostwriters or just throw together a couple of lyrics and claim full credit.”
His companion scoffed, “If he’s no good, then why don’t you write the song?”
The one who had been mumbling fell silent.
After a while, he muttered, “But what if the song he writes is too difficult? What if we can’t sing it or dance to it?”
Xi Kai glanced at him.
He quickly searched his memory for this trainee’s past performances.
Then, he confirmed—this guy was definitely one of the trainees who, like him, had made it this far purely on looks.
And unfortunately, his skills were even worse than Xi Kai’s.
If Xi Kai had to guess, this was probably the weakest contestant in their entire group—maybe even the weakest in the whole show.
…Honestly, if they were going by pure ability, it wouldn’t matter what kind of song Xie Xizhao wrote—this guy wouldn’t be able to sing or dance to it anyway.
That thought was too ruthless, so Xi Kai swallowed it back.
After breakfast, the hours passed quickly. No matter what thoughts they had, they all obediently arrived at the practice room before 1 PM.
Xie Xizhao was already there, waiting for them.
—
Meetings were also filmed.
To be precise, everything that happened in these common rooms was recorded.
This was so the production team could collect material for the show.
It was also why public performance behind-the-scenes footage was the easiest to manipulate into malicious edits.
Of course, at this moment, no one was thinking about that.
Today, Xie Xizhao was rarely wearing a dress shirt.
He almost never wore dress shirts—he usually stuck to loose T-shirts and casual pants, always giving off a fresh and gentle vibe.
But in reality, what suited him best was this kind of clean, well-fitted shirt.
The cut was semi-formal but not too stiff, and paired with his glasses, he looked especially studious, especially—
Xi Kai finally dug up the perfect word from his limited vocabulary.
Restrained.
There was restraint, yet also desire.
When they walked in, Xie Xizhao was leaning against the piano, bathed in the sunlight streaming from outside—like a quiet, serene painting.
Xi Kai knew he wasn’t the only one who was momentarily stunned.
Almost as soon as they stepped through the door, they instinctively held their breath.
Yun Pan was organizing the whiteboard on the side. Hearing the noise, he gave them a small wave. “Hey.”
That one word jolted everyone awake from their daze.
Xie Xizhao set down the sheet music in his hand. “You’re here?”
At that moment, Zou Yi also walked in from outside.
As soon as he entered, he grinned. “Xizhao, you look great today.”
“Do I?” Xie Xizhao blinked, glancing down at himself with an innocent expression. “I think it’s just okay? My other clothes were in the wash, so I pulled this one out.”
Zou Yi was helpless against this kind of casual attractiveness ab*se, shaking his head with a laugh.
The group sat down in a circle.
Xie Xizhao didn’t waste time on unnecessary words. He simply took out his laptop and started playing the demo.
