Chapter 16: One-Third Forum
Back in the practice room, Cen Chi caught a glimpse of Yue Zhaolin in the mirror and enthusiastically approached him, but Yue Zhaolin leaned back slightly.
He was signaling him to step back.
Cen Chi wasn’t sure why, but he immediately understood and quickly stopped.
Yue Zhaolin had never kept pets before, but he preferred cats. Dogs were too noisy and too enthusiastic, and he felt that dealing with a dog’s enthusiasm was a kind of labor.
Cen Chi said, “Zhaolin, you’re back. Do you want me to practice with you?”
“You go ahead first.”
Yue Zhaolin: “Switch to Meng Yu teaching me.”
Cen Chi: “Ah…”
The blond young man made a short, sharp, low-volume sound — “ah” didn’t quite capture it accurately.
He looked toward Meng Yu.
The smile on his face seemed a bit faint: “Meng Yu, haven’t you just started practicing too? What happened during the time you were away?”
As he spoke, someone pushed open the door. Two members of Class D in yellow hoodies came in, faces flushed, “Excuse me, is Meng Yu here?”
Meng Yu didn’t recognize them and looked a bit puzzled.
The two introduced themselves, then said, “Wei Lai said you taught him in the corridor, and that if there’s anything he doesn’t understand, he could come ask you…”
Trainees with poor fundamentals, who couldn’t make much progress on their own, urgently needed this kind of guidance, so they shamelessly came forward.
This time, Meng Yu didn’t refuse, because this time, the message was intentionally spread by him.
“Sure,” he said, then changed his tone, “but Cen Chi and I haven’t finished ironing out the details yet. Later, we still have to practice dancing with Zhaolin together…”
The two widened their eyes. Ironing out details?!
They spoke in unison, “Can we follow along from behind?!”
Meng Yu said there were too many people in Class A and it would disturb others, so he contacted the selection committee and arranged for another empty room to practice dancing together.
Yue Zhaolin said, “Let’s go.”
Cen Chi’s expression changed instantly: “Oh, oh.”
Another practice room.
Meng Yu’s Class A status was well-earned, and he had a deep understanding of the theme song’s choreography.
He demonstrated the moves facing the mirror: “Here, it’s not just about lifting your thigh and drawing circles, you need to engage your hips and shift your center of gravity a bit.”
Although it looked like a group lesson, Meng Yu actually paced the class according to Yue Zhaolin’s progress. If someone couldn’t catch on, he wouldn’t repeat the move.
“Add a bit more bounce when you do it, pull yourself upward.” Meng Yu said while watching Yue Zhaolin through the mirror.
Meng Yu snapped back: “Right, press your shoulders back, don’t keep your head too straight — tilt it back a little. You can turn around and check your angle in the mirror…”
Even so, no one there thought anything was wrong, because once you learned a bit, the effect was obvious; if you didn’t learn, it was just a lack of skill.
Word of mouth spread, and the large class lessons began.
Class B practice room.
Outside in the corridor, the sound of hurried footsteps came one after another, loud enough to overpower the music playing inside. People in Class B couldn’t help but look up and out.
“What’s going on?”
“Gray and yellow hoodies — those are trainees from Classes D and F. Why are they all running that way?”
Fu Xunying was sweating profusely from practice. When he heard someone open the door, he grabbed a trainee standing outside in the corridor and asked what was happening.
“Class A’s Meng Yu is working on perfecting the dance, very meticulously. Want to go learn together?”
Fu Xunying: “.”
He had thought it was something else.
“Xunying, are you going?”
Fu Xunying was so exhausted he felt like dying. Why would he go join the crowd? He wasn’t crazy.
Outside, someone excitedly shouted, “I heard Yue Zhaolin and Chu Li are there, plus Cen Chi. Wow, is Class A doing charity or what?!”
Then they ran off.
Fu Xunying: “……”
The book said that going back on one’s word is beneficial for mental and physical health.
Rhythmic footsteps, music, and someone counting beats could be heard from the room: “One, two, three, four—”
The doorway was crowded with people. Fu Xunying wondered why no one was going in, so he squeezed through the gap in the door to take a look inside.
Yue Zhaolin was there.
He wasn’t disturbed by the crowd outside the door, nor distracted by others. He was watching himself in the mirror.
Over and over, repeating the same movement, adjusting again and again.
Fu Xunying couldn’t clearly see his face, but from that silhouette he could feel a fierce determination unique to Yue Zhaolin.
It shone brighter than any memory he’d had of him before.
Images from that morning — those hollow shots focused on Yue Zhaolin — flashed through his mind. He instinctively took a step back.
Then silently left.
Practice went on late into the night, especially for trainees ranked D and F. After all, their progress was visible to the naked eye, and promotion seemed within reach.
If they pulled off a comeback, the show would at least give them some screen time, right?
In any case, it was a good thing.
Meng Yu asked a staff member for a box of throat lozenges — he had been talking for a long time and calling out counts, and his throat was starting to itch.
After the large group practice ended, Meng Yu’s popularity skyrocketed. He received a basketful of thanks, and it was likely his name would come up in the post-interviews too.
Yue Zhaolin still hadn’t fully recovered from his illness. He couldn’t walk out soaked in sweat and risk catching a chill, so he first wiped himself down with a warm towel.
Coming out of the restroom, Yue Zhaolin started packing his things and handed his bag to Cen Chi.
Cen Chi instinctively assumed the role of bag-carrier, but just as he reached out, another hand came over and took the bag instead. Yue Zhaolin turned his head — it was Tan Shen.
He was a bit surprised. “When did you get here?”
Though notably, Fu Xunying was not around.
Tan Shen said, “…I’ve been here the whole time.” Albeit always in the back. He couldn’t help himself and asked again, “You really didn’t see me?”
Yue Zhaolin: “No.”
It was the truth.
“You must’ve been too focused on the dance,” Tan Shen quickly gave himself an out. “I actually made quite a bit of progress today too.”
“Really?”
The group headed out. Cen Chi chimed in with a laugh, “Tan Shen definitely stood out — I saw him. His dancing was so stiff.”
In fact, stiffness was just one issue.
Tan Shen’s entire core was completely undeveloped — every movement made him look like a steel plate. If there had been a direct cam recording of him, it would’ve been the kind that made people laugh till they cried.
Tan Shen launched a counterattack with a smile, pleading, “Zhaolin, help me out. Can I practice with you tomorrow?”
Yue Zhaolin didn’t mind.
The main reason he had asked Meng Yu to lead that big class was actually for his own benefit. The production team and the company had aligned interests — but not completely aligned.
If Yue Zhaolin had requested extra one-on-one practice, the production team would likely try to dissuade Meng Yu. But having a whole bunch of “hostages” made things different.
Meng Yu followed behind.
Aside from practice, Yue Zhaolin’s relationship with him was still the same as before — neither close nor distant. There was a gap, yes; there was envy, too.
·
The insider who leaked the information had been found — it was a manager’s nephew.
The manager had been talking about the show trending online. When he saw the guilty look all over his nephew’s face, he instantly understood and didn’t hesitate to throw him under the bus.
He realized something had really gone wrong. “All I said was that there was overtime, I never mentioned a reshoot!”
Idiot — an impressively dumb one.
The manager, now implicated, slapped him hard: “What else did you say?!”
“A-a photo from backstage… not from the reshoot, just the very beginning…”
The executive, sweating bullets: “……”
Well, in the midst of disaster, this was at least salvageable. That kind of leak could still be spun.
But the person who had received the photo hadn’t made a move yet — that struck Cheng Zhou as strange.
As for that person’s identity, he passed the information to Xingqiong to investigate together.
He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and called for his assistant. “What’s the public reaction looking like right now?”
“The show’s reputation has completely flipped! On Douyin, the top related video has 250,000 likes. On WeChat, the program’s search traffic is up 300% compared to before!”
Cheng Zhou’s expression relaxed. “Pretty good…”
The assistant smiled.
What he didn’t say was: the search volume for “Yue Zhaolin” alone was three times that of the show itself.
Well — when you’re working, no need to make things awkward with your boss.
—
[Goose Gossip Group | Even Though My Opinion as a Casual Viewer Isn’t Worth Much…]
[Main Post]
RT.
Still, I have to say — that Royal guy gives me physical discomfort. I’ve officially turned anti.
The official statement from the show’s Weibo account didn’t exactly deny anything, right? Just used some clever wording and a leading rhetorical question?
They didn’t even bother with a stamped notice.
[1F] That clarification came so fast, it’s basically a record in Chinese entertainment.
Honestly, stanning him does feel satisfying. He’s Royal, he’s capable, and he’s got capital backing.
[2F] First time I’ve seen a talent show pull out this much firepower. Stirred up a storm, bought a bunch of trending topics, all to boost this royal guy.
[3F] Eight hundred trending hashtags a day — even a pig would get famous. His fans are even proud of it. No shame, only glory.
Old-school fans like me don’t buy it anymore — instant switch from neutral to anti.
[4F] +1
[5F] Is his “mass appeal” finally collapsing?
Honestly, Yue Zhaolin’s looks are unmatched. Just two historical dramas and he’d be soaring. But no, he had to take this sketchy route.
[7F] LMAO, keep dreaming about his “downfall.”
[11F] His fans like calling him Royal. They’ve already said they don’t care about a bit of public goodwill.
[16F] But being his fan feels great. After the Starlight official account posted that picture, fans were celebrating like they won a war.
[17F] Honestly, it’s because he’s so good-looking.
Yue Zhaolin’s body proportions give him a huge advantage — you can freeze any frame and it’s sexy.
His stage charisma just hits you in the face. I can’t even imagine how stunning he looked in the initial evaluation.
No wonder Starlight has the confidence to hype him like this.
[19F] Isn’t this how all Chinese entertainment fans are? It’s all about the face — not much rational thinking.
K-pop and Hollywood fans aren’t this indulgent. They don’t treat stars like deities.
C-ent’s already doomed.
[21F] Here we go again, another “C-ent is doomed” post. If some people were right, C-ent would’ve collapsed 800 times by now.
“The Tragic Life of the Perpetually Doomed C-ent.”
[23F] Let’s be real — C-ent’s got problems, but are K-pop and Hollywood really better? One’s got sky-high s**cide rates, the other is full of felons. You might as well hype up Thai entertainment instead.
[26F] As someone active in Thai ent… yeah, it’s a hot mess over here too.
[29F] To be fair, if we’re ranking by messiness, C-ent isn’t number one.
[31F] @Reply 11 — drop the act. Yes, Yue Zhaolin’s called “Royal,” and his fans are open about it. But if he didn’t actually do something, don’t pin every scandal on him. Don’t throw random hats on his head.
[37F] Looks like “Team Royal” is gaining serious numbers. I took a walk around the main square and saw posts with 60–70k likes under fan control in just a few hours.
He’s officially joined the ranks of top-tier idols now…
[39F] I mean, it’s Yue Zhaolin. He hasn’t even debuted yet and already has 47 fansites, 21 support accounts, and 35 fan-run resource accounts — a true purple star of C-ent.
Getting 60–70k controlled comments before debut? Totally normal for him.
[41F] Wait, what?! That many?!
[43F] Forgot to mention — ever since that god-tier photo “The God Gazes Back” dropped, even more fansites popped up. It’s 53 now, in total. 🙂
[44F] …Why does it feel like I’ve been offline for a bit and the entire C-ent scene has flipped upside down?
[46F] Emperor Yue’s individual supertopic has only been open for just over a month, and already has 600,000 fans. The number of active users is downright terrifying.
[47F] This whole “reshoot” drama actually ended up solidifying his fanbase — a mix of suffering and bonding, lol.
Who would’ve thought a rookie fan group, one that hasn’t even decided on an official fandom name, could get 70k likes under a single controlled post in just a few hours?
[49F] Wait — they haven’t even picked a fandom name yet?! That’s insanely new…
[51F] Yeah, there was a whole debate in the supertopic. No one could agree, so in the end they decided to bring signs to a live event and let Yue Zhaolin pick it himself. 😭
[53F] Sorry to go slightly off-topic, but… is it really that hard to choose one?
[55F] Since someone asked, here’s a copy-paste of a few suggestions floating around:
“Tide”: The moon moves the tides.
“Snow Pearl”: From the poem “The moonlight shines on the flower forest like sleet” — suits Emperor Yue’s name. “Sleet” here refers to delicate, fragile snow pellets.
“Moonlight”: Straightforward and clear.
“Starstream”: The moon is always seen with stars; a flowing river of light in the night sky, cradling the moon.
