Chapter 90: Talent

Although they called it a captain selection, the recording couldn’t possibly revolve entirely around just that.

Since this was the first episode of the dorm reality show and the new group’s first official appearance, the company had notified everyone the day before the recording that they would be filming in the dorm. In other words, they were expected to tidy up.

Both the dorm’s appearance and themselves.

And as it turned out, this was a much-needed reminder.

In just a few days, the once clean and orderly villa had been thoroughly “wrecked” by a few of the boys. Apart from Xie Xizhao’s and Zou Yi’s rooms, which remained largely unchanged, the rest of the rooms had undergone drastic transformations.

Yun Pan’s room was piled high with snacks.

He truly loved to eat, snacking wherever he went and frequently sharing with the entire group. Whenever Fu Wenze saw him, he would deliberately take a detour—after all, it was hard to say no to that face.

But if he kept eating like this, his abs would be in danger.

Fu Wenze’s own room had no snacks at all. Instead, the window seat held a few small dumbbells—his self-discipline was absolute.

Aside from that, the most notable things in Fu Wenze’s room were the “care packages” his younger brother had sent from home. These included plush toys, crookedly handmade fabric crafts, and even thermal underwear.

Whether he actually planned to wear it was another matter.

The messiest room belonged to Ai Qingyuan.

Back when Xie Xizhao used to share a room with him, he had already sensed it to some extent. But perhaps the old dorm had been too small to truly showcase Ai Qingyuan’s tendencies, so it hadn’t been too obvious. Now, as Xie Xizhao stood in Ai Qingyuan’s walk-in closet, he deeply understood why giving him the second-floor master bedroom suite had been necessary.

He asked, “Are you running a clothing store at home?”

Ai Qingyuan was just as shocked. “Wait, you guys don’t plan outfits in advance?”

Xie Xizhao replied, “No need. Born naturally stunning.”

Ai Qingyuan: “…”

He stubbornly went to Xie Xizhao’s room to take a look, and sure enough, he didn’t see any flashy or extravagant clothes.

From the bed sheets to the clothes in the wardrobe, everything was in soft, light colors. There weren’t many clothes either—just a few sets of each common style. However, the tailoring was quite unique.

As he looked through them, he forgot his original intention and instead asked, “What brand is this?”

They looked surprisingly nice.

Xie Xizhao thought for a moment and replied, “Most of my clothes were bought while shopping with my mom.”

In other words, just ordinary wholesale clothes from random stores.

Ai Qingyuan twitched the corners of his mouth.

Sure enough, people born naturally good-looking had all the confidence in the world.

He then wandered over to Zou Yi’s room, which was also decorated in warm wooden tones complemented by a milky white color. At that moment, he deeply realized just how out of place his flamboyant, peacock-like fashion sense was in this dorm.

Fortunately, Yun Pan’s wardrobe, which looked like he had spilled an entire bucket of paint, provided him with some comfort.

Beyond the personal rooms, shared spaces were also gradually being furnished.

The empty basement had been transformed—the inner room became a practice studio, while the larger outer space now held a billiards table.

On the first floor, there were two rooms. Xie Xizhao and Fu Wenze had their rooms there, while the guest room across from them had been turned into a composing studio, complete with a “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging on the door. The hallway extended toward the living room, with an open dining area and kitchen on the left, and a spacious living room on the right.

Beyond the right side of the living room, a sliding door led directly to the garden.

Among the five of them, Xie Xizhao and Fu Wenze were the ones who could cook, while Zou Yi could make simple dishes. The other two had absolutely no cooking skills. Yun Pan, however, loved tending to plants, so the garden became his little secret paradise.

As for Ai Qingyuan, he had no particular interests—his role was simply to order takeout whenever no one felt like cooking.

Of course, since they didn’t have any schedules at the moment, they mostly cooked for themselves. After taking turns preparing meals for a couple of days, it became clear that Fu Wenze, who had been cooking for his family since childhood, was the most skilled. As a result, Xie Xizhao silently took on the role of his kitchen assistant.

The refrigerator quickly filled up with food—meat, vegetables, canned goods, soda, and other drinks.

So by the time the reality show crew officially arrived at the villa, the place was already brimming with the atmosphere of a shared dormitory life.

The director of the reality show was named Su Xian.

True to her name, she appeared to be a refined yet capable woman. She had previously directed several slow-paced lifestyle variety shows, all of which had received high praise. Since Shenghong had invited her to film this program, rumors had already spread online—people saw it as a sign of how much the company valued the debut group.

And that was exactly the case.

The production team arrived in the morning. Zou Yi and Xie Xizhao, who both had a habit of morning workouts, ran into the large film crew in the garden.

Both of them were a little surprised. “Weren’t you supposed to come at ten?”

“The earlier we start, the earlier we finish,” a staff member replied with a smile. “We also wanted to capture some of your real morning routines.”

As they spoke, Xie Xizhao’s gaze landed on a nearby camera that was already recording.

He immediately understood what was going on.

Although this was technically a debut reality show, its real purpose was to establish the group’s dynamic and cultivate a sense of unity between them and their fans before their official debut.

How do you create a strong team bond? They couldn’t control what fans thought, but at the very least, the members had to look like they got along. Otherwise, the group would appear fractured from the very beginning.

Shenghong was likely worried that they weren’t close enough yet and wanted to film as much footage as possible to use in the final edit.

That was the company’s strategy.

From Xie Xizhao’s perspective, he didn’t really mind being filmed directly like this. But since he was just an employee, once he figured it out, he didn’t dwell on it any further.

The production crew entered the house, with Zou Yi handling the hospitality while Xie Xizhao went upstairs to wake everyone up.

Before long, the remaining three members trudged down the stairs, still half-asleep, looking like they were carrying a dark cloud over their heads. At the very least, they had managed to put their clothes on properly.

Zou Yi brought breakfast to the table as the cameras zoomed in. The assistant director, curious, asked, “So, when you guys are at home, who usually cooks?”

“In the mornings, it’s Zhaozhao,” Zou Yi replied with a smile. “He wakes up early. I’m not as skilled as him, so I just help out. Lunch is usually handled by Teacher Fu, and at night, we all order takeout together.”

The assistant director: “…”

“That’s… pretty structured,” she remarked.

Zou Yi chuckled. “Of course.”

As they talked, Ai Qingyuan had already plopped down at the table and reached for a fried egg with his chopsticks.

Still groggy from sleep, he took a big bite before noticing the camera. For a second, he was caught in an awkward dilemma—whether to continue chewing or freeze mid-bite. After a brief moment of hesitation, he swallowed the egg and, in a lazy yet decisive manner, greeted the camera:

“Morning.”

The assistant director glanced at the time. “It’s 7:30.”

Ai Qingyuan let out an “Oh” and sighed regretfully. “What a perfect time to be asleep.”

The assistant director: “…”

After breakfast, everyone gathered on the couch.

The cameras rolled, and the eldest, Zou Yi, took the lead. “Three, two, one.”

“Hello, everyone! We are The Phoenix.”

Their sitting postures were all over the place, and their greeting was barely synchronized.

The morning sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting a warm glow over the couch. In this golden light, the reality show named after The Phoenix officially began recording.

The first question—

“Now that you’re debuting as The Phoenix, what’s your biggest thought or feeling?”

After a brief silence, Zou Yi was the first to speak.

“It doesn’t feel real,” he said with a smile. “I’ve dreamed about our debut night so many times, but every time, right before Teacher Dou announced who got fifth place, I’d wake up.”

Yun Pan thought for a moment and then said seriously, “Happy.”

Beside him, Zou Yi playfully squeezed his fingers.

“No particular feelings,” Ai Qingyuan said. “The only thing I do feel is that our old dorm was way too small. This place is much more comfortable.”

As soon as he said that, everyone burst into laughter.

Fu Wenze remained calm as he added, “I’m happy… except for the fact that I have to be in the same group as Ai Qingyuan.”

“…Hey!”

Ai Qingyuan immediately grabbed a throw pillow and went to smack him.

No one expected that just three minutes into the recording, the room would already descend into chaos. The soft pillow landed on Fu Wenze, who casually caught it as if he were kneading dough, then effortlessly tossed it back at its original owner.

Zou Yi reached over Yun Pan to try and break things up, while Xie Xizhao, staying perfectly composed, simply pulled Ai Qingyuan to sit on his right before calmly answering the production team’s question.

“Does this happen often?”

“Uh… yeah, pretty often.”

Then, turning to the camera, he explained with a straight face, “Don’t misunderstand. This is just how we express our affection.”

The director team’s faces clearly read ‘Really?’, but Xie Xizhao’s expression and tone were so sincere that they hesitantly chose to believe him and moved on.

“Alright then, Xizhao, as the center of the group, how do you feel about debuting?”

Xie Xizhao smiled. “I’m very grateful that everyone voted me into C-position. Please continue to support The Phoenix in the days to come.”

He spoke in a steady and unhurried manner that was quite pleasant to listen to. Su Xian had only known about him through trending topics before, but now she found herself developing a favorable impression of him. Despite his young age, he had a strong sense of propriety in both his words and tone.

She smiled and asked, “I heard that your parents weren’t very supportive of your career choice at first. Have you managed to convince them now?”

“I have,” Xie Xizhao replied with a smile. “I told them I couldn’t afford the contract termination fee. They weighed their options and decided to let me go.”

The entire production team burst into laughter.

“Alright then,” Su Xian said, still laughing. “Let’s move on to the second item on today’s agenda.”

The second item was a tour of the villa.

This had already been discussed with everyone in advance.

The group got up, avoiding filming in areas like the entrance and windows that could reveal their location. The main focus of the shoot was, of course, their rooms.

By the end of the tour, the staff members were a bit surprised.

The surprising part was Xie Xizhao.

To understand why, one had to go back to the competition.

It was well known that in large-scale talent shows, the editing was always selective.

Whether it was being completely cut out or subjected to evil editing, these choices could have a significant impact on contestants.

Xie Xizhao was one of the contestants most affected by this system.

In the early stages, he barely had any complete screen time. Then, in the later stages, he was almost a victim of evil editing. Although the final broadcast didn’t include those misleading clips, the preview for the second public performance had already left a lasting impression on many uninformed viewers.

As a result, apart from his most dedicated longtime fans, many people had only a vague idea of his personality.

What kind of person was Xie Xizhao?

Talented, popular, and good-looking.

That was the full extent of how most people in the industry perceived him.

People in the industry wouldn’t actively search for online opinions about a newcomer. They could only form their impressions based on what they personally saw and heard.

The debut night had been a grand spectacle, but everything that stood out during that event was purely external and objective.

However, this reality show recording completely reshaped the program staff’s preconceived notions.

The first surprise was how well he spoke.

For a rookie, the hardest thing to master in front of the camera was the right balance in speech.

In this regard, TP was already an exceptionally skilled rookie group.

Within the group, aside from Xie Xizhao, Zou Yi was the most articulate. Ai Qingyuan and Fu Wenze sometimes made unexpected remarks, but they generally stayed within acceptable limits. The youngest, Yun Pan, was observant despite his age—if he sensed that speaking at a particular moment was inappropriate, he would simply remain silent.

But Xie Xizhao was, by far, the best at handling conversations.

This was evident right from the moment he shared his thoughts about debuting. Additionally, during the room tour, there were inevitable moments where privacy became a concern. When the production team, unaware of certain boundaries, overstepped, it was always Xie Xizhao who smoothly steered the conversation back on track.

This was particularly noticeable when they introduced Yun Pan’s room.

The newly-adult member was a little too well-behaved—he answered every question without hesitation. It was Xie Xizhao who subtly intervened, preventing the team from probing further. It was only when they noticed Yun Pan’s visible sigh of relief that they realized they had unknowingly crossed a line.

The second surprise was how entertaining he was.

He had a natural sense of ease and relaxation.

From his casual “It happens all the time” at the start to the dry humor of his “contract termination fee” remark, his innocent tone repeatedly made the directors unconsciously smile.

It wasn’t over-the-top comedic, but it made people feel at ease—a rare quality for a rookie just starting out in variety shows.

Su Xian believed it was a talent.

She could already predict that once this episode aired, this kid—finally free from the editing disadvantages of the survival show—would gain even more fans through something as simple and ordinary as a daily-life reality show.

Beyond that, there was the chemistry within TP.

At first, Su Xian had worried that, as a survival show group, the members might not get along well in private. But halfway through the recording, she had completely set aside those concerns.

She could confidently say that among all the idol groups she had worked with, TP was one of the closest.

Xie Xizhao’s so-called “emotional exchanges” weren’t just words.

After an hour and a half of filming, they took a short break.

Then, it was time for the final agenda of the day.

“As we discussed before,” Su Xian said, “we’ll be deciding the leader through a vote. You all have two minutes to write down the name of the person you think should be the leader, and then we’ll count the votes.”

The staff handed out slips of paper to everyone.

Xie Xizhao picked up his pen but, surprisingly, hesitated for once.

This had indeed been announced to them in advance, but none of them had discussed it with each other beforehand.

It wasn’t an easy thing to discuss.

The leader position was a double-edged sword.

On one hand, it was a good thing—the leader was responsible for communicating with the company, overseeing daily practice, and speaking in public settings. It was a role that required a lot of responsibility. On the other hand, the leader had certain privileges, a title, and regular speaking opportunities.

For members with fewer resources and exposure, being the leader could serve as a safety net.

Xie Xizhao had considered just rolling a die to decide, but since it involved the entire team, it didn’t seem appropriate to treat it as a joke.

After hesitating for half a minute, he finally wrote down a name.

Two minutes later, all the slips were handed over to the production team, and the assistant director began reading the votes.

She picked up the first one. “Xie Xizhao.”

Xie Xizhao: “……”

He glanced to the side and locked eyes with Ai Qingyuan’s innocent-looking gaze.

The leader position was also a focal point of discussion online, so before the recording, Su Xian had paid attention to the fan discourse. Now, seeing this interaction, she picked up on something and smiled. “Xizhao, did you already guess who voted for you?”

Xie Xizhao coughed. “It was pretty obvious.”

Ai Qingyuan couldn’t help but ask, “How so?”

“…Now it’s even more obvious.” Xie Xizhao ignored him and continued speaking with a straight face.

The assistant director was laughing so hard she nearly lost her breath.

The second vote was also for Xie Xizhao.

His smile remained, but his gaze dropped slightly as he absentmindedly fiddled with the die in his pocket.

The third vote—Zou Yi.

The fourth vote—Zou Yi.

When it came to the fifth vote, the assistant director deliberately slowed down to build suspense. Smiling, she asked, “Xizhao, Yi, do either of you have anything to say?”

Xie Xizhao and Zou Yi exchanged a glance. The latter smiled and said, “Both Xizhao and I have been leaders before. I think either of us would be a good fit for this role.”

Xie Xizhao copied and pasted: “Same.”

Zou Yi playfully tapped his lower back with a pillow.

The result of the fifth vote was announced—Zou Yi.

A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he quickly returned to his usual composure.

“Thank you, everyone,” he said with a smile. “I’ll do my best as the team leader and won’t let you down.”

Once the recording ended, Zou Yi actively sought out Xie Xizhao.

The two of them sat down on the terrace on the second floor. Zou Yi was the first to speak. “Xizhao, you voted for me, didn’t you?”

Xie Xizhao felt the cool breeze on the terrace and gazed at the beautiful lake in the distance, deeply aware of the intoxicating glamour of life after debuting. Only then did he reply, “Yeah.”

Zou Yi paused for a moment before saying in a low voice, “Thank you.”

Everyone knew that there had always been only two real contenders for the captain position.

Ai Qingyuan and Yun Pan lacked stability, and Fu Wenze was reserved and uninterested in managing affairs. Between Zou Yi and Xie Xizhao, it was obvious that the latter had the greater advantage—not in terms of ability, but in terms of authority.

If not for Xie Xizhao’s vote, the result would not have been what it was now.

And compared to Xie Xizhao, Zou Yi barely secured his debut position, and the company didn’t value him as much. Clearly, he needed this exposure more.

But Xie Xizhao simply said, “Didn’t Teacher Zou also vote for himself?”

Zou Yi was momentarily stunned.

Xie Xizhao let out a breath and said, “Teacher Zou, you don’t have to feel guilty every time you gain something for yourself. Besides, this isn’t some grand stroke of luck.”

He looked at Zou Yi seriously and continued, “I voted for you because you are suited for this position. I believe you voted for yourself for the same reason—you knew you were capable of taking on this role. Isn’t that right?”

“As for me,” he chuckled, “I actually hate trouble. You took on this responsibility, so I should be the one thanking you.”

He understood what Zou Yi meant.

It was nothing more than feeling like he had taken the captain’s position from him.

Zou Yi had always been this way—seeing his own sacrifices as natural, but whenever he fought for himself, he acted as if he had committed some grave wrongdoing.

Xie Xizhao had expected Zou Yi to come looking for him because he had already figured out that Zou Yi must have voted for himself. As for the two votes he had received, they could only have come from Yun Pan and Ai Qingyuan—two people who never overcomplicated things.

As for Fu Wenze, he had likely considered Xie Xizhao’s health issues and ultimately decided to vote for Zou Yi instead.

The two of them had always worked out together, and with Fu Wenze’s younger brother being ill, he was especially sensitive to these matters.

If Fu Wenze hadn’t voted, it wouldn’t have mattered much. But since he did, it only pushed Zou Yi deeper into his psychological burden.

After all, “voting for himself” was something that required him to overcome a great deal of internal struggle.

Xie Xizhao’s words seemed to stir something in Zou Yi. After a long pause, he finally relaxed a little and said, “You’re right. I was overthinking it again.”

The two of them stayed on the terrace for a while longer until Yun Pan came up to call them for dinner.

And just like that, the matter passed without any waves.

To be honest, Xie Xizhao had spoken the truth.

His final vote for Zou Yi wasn’t entirely because Zou Yi needed the exposure—part of it was because he himself wanted to avoid trouble.

He had been captain long enough, and letting go of that responsibility would make things much easier for him. These two reasons each played an equal role in his decision.

Besides, Zou Yi really had no reason to apologize to him.

Because, in truth, this wasn’t a good thing at all.

It wasn’t just about the trouble that came with it. Being a captain while barely securing a debut position made it easy for others to see him as some kind of privileged favorite. After all, by usual standards, the captain was typically the center position, which made management smoother.

Now that Zou Yi had taken on this role, criticism was inevitable.

And as expected, that was exactly what happened.

As soon as this episode of the group reality show aired, there was some stir over the fact that Xie Xizhao was not the captain. However, before this minor uproar could escalate into a full-blown conflict, an unexpected dispute arose between Xie Xizhao’s fanbase and another fanbase.

This time, though, it had nothing to do with the team.

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