Chapter 155: You Have a Choice

Yin Li’s legs were actually going a bit numb from sitting, but in this moment, he didn’t feel any discomfort at all. He looked at the person in front of him with a bit of surprise—this was his most admired and beloved idol in the industry—

He was a very timid person. So even though Xie Xizhao had been the reason he entered the industry in the first place, he had never mentioned it on any show before now.

In his heart, Xie Xizhao was someone who could do anything.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Xie Xizhao chuckled.

He adjusted his sitting position and leaned casually against the glass wall of the practice room. After thinking for a moment, he said:

“How should I put it…”

“A lot of the time,” he said, “fear is a very simple emotion, but the reasons behind it are often very complicated. When we first joined the show, we were all just individuals. Losing didn’t seem like a big deal. But as time goes on—fan expectations, team responsibilities… and if someday, like me, you have your own studio, then every choice you make affects the fate of a whole group of people.”

“By then,” he said seriously, “you’ll find that the pressure during the competition days feels almost pure and simple. Because back then, most of it just came from your own ambition and desire.”

At the end of the day, no matter how tough the talent show period might seem, it’s all still just about striving for your own future. At most, you’re carrying the hopes of your fans. But even then, the sunk costs are still minimal.

After debuting, everything changes.

You have team members. You’re an artist your company has poured time and effort into. You’re the focus of your fans’ attention.

You have to take responsibility for every decision you make. That responsibility includes a web of interconnected interests—brand endorsements, studio operations, company expectations—and, of course, the fans who have invested years of time and emotion into you.

With every step he took upward, the burden on his shoulders grew heavier.

Just thinking about it was enough to give rise to an overwhelming sense of fear and pressure.

Being afraid—was completely normal.

Yin Li was listening in a bit of a daze.

He hadn’t actually thought that far ahead, but after hearing what Xie Xizhao said, he realized that what he was experiencing now… really was only the beginning.

Or maybe, it didn’t even count as the beginning. Because he hadn’t debuted yet. Without debuting, he was still just a little trainee stuck in the company’s practice room. He wasn’t even at the stage where he had the right to feel pressure.

That’s just how the world works. When two people sit together, and one realizes the other is actually worse off than they are, even though nothing has changed, the pain they’re carrying suddenly feels just a little bit lighter.

He imagined it for a second, and genuinely began to feel the anxiety take root. In a quiet and uncertain voice, he asked, “Then… what should I do?”

“Quit the industry,” Xie Xizhao said.

Yin Li was startled.

He turned his head sharply, only to find that Xie Xizhao’s face didn’t show even the slightest hint of joking.

In a soft voice, Xie Xizhao said, “Everyone’s situation is different. A person’s capacity to handle pressure is limited. If you truly feel that this is a burden you can’t bear—if the pain it brings has overwhelmed your whole life—then that means you’re not suited for an industry like this, one that’s constantly under pressure. And in that case, you should leave.”

He said should, not can.

He paused for a moment, as if something had come to mind. Then he added, “You have to understand—you do have a choice.”

To continue, or to quit. Being an idol isn’t a tightrope with no way back. No matter how much profit is behind it, as long as you’re willing to let it go, it’s still just a job.

But some paths… come with no choices. Take one step back, and there’s nothing waiting but an endless abyss.

No one had ever said these things to Yin Li before.

Everyone always told him, Yin Li, you have to be strong. You can’t be so timid. You’re a trainee the company invested heavily in. You’re an idol loved and expected by countless fans. But today, the person standing at the very top of the industry told him—he too felt fear. That when fear reached its peak, it was okay to choose to give up. In that moment, choosing to walk away could be forgiven.

It was strange.

Xie Xizhao had merely offered him a possibility, yet those invisible weights that had been pressing on his chest and making it hard to breathe suddenly felt a little lighter, just because of that one sentence.

Yin Li’s palms were damp with sweat. He began to seriously consider Xie Xizhao’s words.

And yet, just a moment later, he spoke softly, hesitantly: “I… still want to sing and dance.”

Even if it meant pain and anxiety, even if it meant breaking down and hiding away—compared to completely walking away from the stage, those things suddenly didn’t seem so unbearable after all.

He finally began to vaguely understand what it was that Xie Xizhao had been trying to tell him. And sure enough, after hearing his answer, Xie Xizhao smiled, like he had expected it all along.

“Then stop thinking about anything else.”

“Failure, pain, regret—none of that matters anymore,” he said slowly. “Because you’ve decided to do this, there’s no turning back. And if there’s no turning back, then all your anxiety is meaningless. There’s only one thing left for you to do—give it everything you’ve got, and walk the path you’ve chosen.”

“When your conscience is clear,” he stood up, looking at Yin Li with eyes that were clear and calm, “then even if you fail, it’s not a big deal. Because you’ve already given it everything. There’s nothing left to give. Isn’t that right?”

Yin Li didn’t sleep well that night.

At dawn, one of Yin Li’s roommates got up to head to the practice room. He was so sleepy he nearly walked into the wall. When he turned around, he saw Yin Li sitting on the lower bunk with a messy bird’s nest of hair, staring off into space. The sight startled him so much he almost lost his soul, and after a long pause, he cautiously asked:

“…Yin Li?”

Yin Li finally snapped out of it.

“You okay?” The roommate hesitated for a moment and then sat beside him. “If you’re really exhausted, it’s okay to take a break, you know.”

Everyone had noticed Yin Li’s anxiety these past few days.

As fellow trainees, they understood each other better than anyone—but understanding didn’t mean they had any solutions.

The roommate thought Yin Li was on the verge of breaking down. But Yin Li just shook his head and said, “I’m fine,” before getting up to wash up as if nothing had happened.

And from that day on, no one saw that dazed, out-of-it look on him again.

He still occasionally zoned out. He still sometimes hid in a corner when he got scolded, feeling sad for a bit. But those moments stopped being his default state.

His new normal was practice. From morning to night, focused and unwavering. It was as if this was how he chose to pour out all the anxiety and unease in his heart. And he wasn’t alone.

On Super Rookie, nearly every trainee who had felt confused or lost about their future had, in one way or another, received a word of encouragement from Xie Xizhao.

This senior who had once stood at the very peak of this stage shared his own heartfelt experiences. He was like water—gentle, quiet, and all-encompassing—becoming the silent support they relied on as they moved forward.

And within that quiet support, the second round of public performances came to an end.

Every trainee gave it their all and completed the stage that belonged to them. And this time, the second round of performances finally managed to turn things around in the eyes of the audience.

It wasn’t just the trainees who breathed a sigh of relief—the production team did too.

After all, if you’re going to pull the “fall before the rise” trope, you have to actually rise. The production team seized the opportunity while the reviews were finally swinging in their favor and jumped headfirst into a full-on marketing push, dragging this show—burnt to a crisp at the bottom of the pot—back up just a bit.

And in sharp contrast to the shaky, storm-ridden state of the show… was the flourishing career of its star mentor.

Xie Xizhao’s endorsement deal was officially announced.

The brand put real effort into it—they timed the release to coincide with his birthday on June 28th, and even tailored the campaign copy to reflect moments from his life. But even without all that poetic packaging, the endorsement itself was high-profile enough to spark an industry-wide buzz.

In an instant, people across the internet were talking about Xie Xizhao’s fashion resources. At this point, no one questioned his standing in the Chinese entertainment industry anymore.

The secrecy surrounding the deal had been airtight. Fans were already going feral with joy—only to completely lose it when they realized that wasn’t even the peak.

On the day of the announcement, the ad he shot for the brand dropped at the same time.

A little over one minute of footage, and it dominated every corner of the internet.

Why?

Because—

“MOM THIS IS TOO HOT AAAAA IT’S WET XIZHAO AAAAAAA!!!”

The ad was drenched—literally—in water elements.

Shimmering, rippling backgrounds; moody, atmospheric lighting; a water-ink-styled blue silk ribbon wrapped around a slender, delicate young man. Amid the pure hues of blue and white, his sunlit gaze shimmered with a clear, golden glow.

And then—in the very next frame—the golden-lit youth plunged into the deep sea. His soft, flowing sleeves traced out a long, almost divine silhouette. Cradled by the ocean, he was lifted upward by the waves. The gem at his collarbone sparkled like starlight.

He looked like a true prince from the depths of the sea.

—Under the ad, the comment section was basically a fire sale of pants and moral integrity. Netizens howled, clutching their bleeding noses. Fans swooned in blissful delirium. Even casual viewers couldn’t hide their envy and awe.

[Damn… XXZ’s fans really have it too good. Even the ads are this high-quality.]

[Ahhhh, he looks so gorgeous T^T His flawless face combined with the natural acting talent is an absolute killer. No wonder the fashion world loves him so much. The resources no one else can reach, he gets them wholesale. But still… dear sponsors, please keep working hard, we need more of these ads! Slurp, slurp.]

[How has he been in the industry for years and still looks this good? His face and physique are incredible—he’s slim when dressed and has muscles when undressed. That face, that waist, those legs, aaahhh. Still living that over-the-top, blissful fantasy route. I’m so jealous I could die.]

[Talk is cheap, action is better. If you can’t beat them, join them. To all my fellow passersby, I’ve already joined. Don’t hold back. Now’s the perfect time to get into the fandom—you’re not just getting to meet the gentle and beautiful Mentor Zhao, there’s tons of materials to catch up on! Want to see Actor Zhao? His movies and dramas are ready to binge. Want to see Idol Zhao? You can catch him on stage during the competition and comeback performances~ [Heart]]

[Ahhh, wait! You don’t have to wait for the comeback for the stage! Super Rookie just officially announced—Round 3 will feature a mentor collaboration stage! We’ll get to see the fresh, Idol Zhao again!]

With that, a huge wave was stirred up. Fans rushed to the official Super Rookie Weibo, and as expected, they found the latest post.

Round 3: Mentor Collaboration Stage.

The first confirmed collaborator was none other than Xie Xizhao.

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