Chapter 44: Elimination Round
The first elimination round originally wasn’t a big hurdle for most trainees — as long as you looked decent and danced okay, you could easily stay in the top sixty.
But this time was different.
The zero-round and first-round votes weren’t one pick, so when fans cast their votes for their top choice, they’d also pick a few other trainees while they were at it.
They would first pick Yue Zhaolin, then scroll to the end of the voting page and grab a few trainees near the bottom of the rankings to make up a group of nine, then submit their votes.
As the lower-ranked trainees gained more votes, the ones at the very bottom would rotate out, and the fans would switch to “rescuing” the next batch.
They didn’t even care how the others looked or danced — the point was just to vote, spreading the love evenly.
So the rankings on the later pages were practically changing every minute.
“No need to think about first place, it’s definitely Zhaolin,” Wei Lai said, shrinking his neck and yawning. “From tenth place down, it’s all up in the air.”
As for second to tenth place — well, the meme picks from Douyin like Monkey, Mango, the emo kid, and Stick Insect were bound to drop. The rest probably wouldn’t change much.
All the trainees were now dressed in uniform blue-and-white baseball jackets, gathering in small groups. Some were touching up their makeup, others chatting.
A staff member was helping Yue Zhaolin put on his mic — a clip-on pinned to his collar.
Next to him was Chu Li, who hadn’t slept well. The warm air from the AC hit him and made his eyelids even heavier. “…I can’t, I need to go wash my face again.”
Yue Zhaolin glanced at Chu Li’s unsteady figure and turned to the talent manager beside him. “Sister, can you grab me a bottle of cold sparkling water?”
“Cilantro-flavored.”
“Huh? Okay.”
When Chu Li returned, looking wilted, Yue Zhaolin kindly offered him a refreshing pick-me-up drink he’d had before: “Wanna give it a try?”
Chu Li hesitated. “I don’t eat cilantro… but maybe that means it’ll work even better. I’ll try.”
He twisted off the cap and took a big gulp.
“Pfft— cough cough!”
It tasted like a soda made by blending a three-year-dead stink bug with lemon, then fermenting it with some sour, grassy weeds.
As Chu Li’s bottom lip trembled and all his sleepiness vanished, Li Ying — the one in charge of announcing the results of the first elimination — walked in, causing a stir.
“Good afternoon, PD!”
The whispers in the room immediately stopped. Everyone stood up and bowed in greeting.
Li Ying smiled and nodded, raising the microphone. “Good afternoon, everyone. Please get ready — we’ll start recording soon.”
“Got it.”
This was the spot where the initial ranking had been filmed. The seats on the tiered platform had been reduced from 101 to 64.
Opposite the platform were several rows of temporary chairs for the trainees. After the rankings were announced, anyone ranked 64 or higher would get to move to the “throne” seats on the tiered platform.
Since there were no assigned seats, trainees stood next to people they were close with — also convenient for playing up relationships during the ranking reveals.
— Things like interlocked fingers to ease nerves, tearful hugs after names were announced — all standard fanservice tactics.
Though he’d gone through the “CP fanservice” training, Yue Zhaolin didn’t think he could act it out convincingly, so he simply gave up on any intimate gestures in front of the camera.
The people around him were already used to his occasional germophobia.
Yue Zhaolin glanced at the first-row seats but didn’t sit down. The other trainees laughed and didn’t sit either — they all wanted to grab the spot right behind him.
Yue Zhaolin asked, “Sit here?”
Tan Shen replied, “Sure.”
As soon as he sat down, Tan Shen started making exaggerated faces again. One glance and Yue Zhaolin could tell he was about to say something dumb. He shot him a look, silently telling him to tone it down.
On Yue Zhaolin’s other side, Fu Xunying sat down. Time to clock in for his “arranged marriage” duties — he had to initiate some fanservice with Yue Zhaolin later.
No choice. Work’s work.
Fu Xunying took a sip of sparkling water to psych himself up, still nervous. He leaned in toward Yue Zhaolin and whispered, “Let’s hug later, okay? Give me some face?”
Since going solo, Yue Zhaolin had become even less into fanservice — not that he’d ever really enjoyed it.
Yue Zhaolin asked, “Are you gonna cry later?”
Fu Xunying: “…Yeah.”
Red-rimmed eyes and a heartfelt thank-you speech — standard pick-me-up tactics for survival shows. Fu Xunying had even practiced crying gracefully a few times just for this.
Yue Zhaolin: “Hug before you cry. What if you get snot and tears all over me?”
Fu Xunying: “You despise me?”
Tan Shen: “Huh?”
While the three of them chatted in the front row, Meng Yu watched from behind, taking it all in — and feeling a twinge of regret. Maybe… he shouldn’t have hidden that down jacket.
Tan Shen was clearly useless, yet Yue Zhaolin still greeted him with a smile.
If only, back then…
Meng Yu pressed his lips together. No more “if only.”
Because of the way the show was edited, Meng Yu didn’t have the best public image — but hate still brought traffic. In the entertainment industry, the worst thing is being ignored.
As long as he could survive this round, maybe there was still a chance. Maybe Yue Zhaolin would see his value, and their “deal” could continue.
…
Once everyone was seated, the director tapped the microphone, adjusted a few seats, and after confirming the camera angles looked good, sent Li Ying out again.
Then the director spoke into the mic: “When the PD comes in, give us some reactions, alright?”
After Li Ying stepped out, the cameras were all in place. When he came back in, someone called out loudly, “PD got even more handsome after just a few days!”
Li Ying couldn’t help but smile and immediately located the source of the voice — Shu Yang: “Your new hair color’s pretty handsome too.”
The atmosphere lightened considerably.
After a few pleasantries, Li Ying got to the point. “The first performance is the first answer sheet you’re handing in to the starlight producers.”
“The benefit votes you received will be added to the 9% of the zero-round votes and tallied into the first-round vote total. That total will determine whether you stay or go.”
“Right now, all the votes have been counted — right here.” As he held up the script in his hand, the trainees visibly tensed up.
In fact, the anxiety levels from 10th place all the way to 100th were almost the same.
“Today’s results only reflect the past, not the future. Whether you stay or leave, I hope all of you continue chasing your dreams.”
Once Li Ying finished the opening speech, the rankings were announced — starting from 63rd and counting up to 1st, with 64th (the last one to make the cut) saved for the end.
“63rd place, 313,531 votes.”
…
After listening for a bit, Yue Zhaolin noticed that the votes from 63rd to 50th place were all hovering around the 300,000 mark, with very small gaps — some just a few dozen votes apart.
Tan Shen whispered, “This is really tight. I don’t think I’m gonna make it.”
His initial evaluation had gone poorly, and his offline mall performance had been a total disaster. In the zero round, he made it into the top nine purely thanks to meme voters like Wei Lai.
But now that the show had aired, there were more serious viewers — who weren’t likely to vote for someone like him. And even though his first performance had been decent, it hadn’t been broadcast yet.
Yue Zhaolin said, “Let’s keep listening.”
…
Li Ying continued: “Next up, the trainee ranked 53rd was one of the winners in the last group performance round and received 10,000 benefit votes.”
“He has striking visuals, but what impressed the mentors was the contrast in his aura — a unique balance between melancholy and sensuality.”
“Chen Fei, congratulations! Your total vote count is 356,598!”
Yue Zhaolin finally heard a familiar name — Chen Fei, his teammate from the first performance, known for his hot nerd contrast-with-sexy vibe.
Chen Fei’s pupils dilated. He had no idea how he got up to the stage, or what he was supposed to say. In a daze, he just kept thanking Yue Zhaolin for choosing him as a teammate.
Noticing how nervous he was, Yue Zhaolin smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.
Chen Fei froze for a moment—then smiled back.
In the following rankings from 52nd to 47th, two more familiar names appeared to Yue Zhaolin: Meng Yu and Wei Lai.
Wei Lai had once been in the top nine of the zero round, but after the show aired, public opinion turned against him, and his reputation took a hit. He quickly dropped down the ranks.
Saying he wasn’t disappointed would’ve been a lie — but Wei Lai wasn’t planning to fade quietly.
— If I win, it’s fate. If I lose, it’s also fate. But since I’m already here on this show, how could I not want more? Showing up and standing out never hurts.
Besides, he had someone worth learning from.
Yue Zhaolin.
Of course, not in the sense of blindly copying him, but by training harder, thinking more, and being genuinely respectful to staff and fans alike.
Then there was Meng Yu — he hadn’t made the top nine in the zero round, and his expression gave nothing away.
Before announcing each trainee, Li Ying would always give a short summary speech, paired with dramatic pauses for show effect — which meant the process wasn’t quick.
Two hours later, most of the seats on the tiered platform were filled.
Only ranks 1 through 13 remained.
13th place went to Mao Ding.
He had been waiting forever without hearing his name and had assumed he was getting eliminated.
Like Wei Lai and Zhou Xiao, Mao Ding had made it into the top nine during the zero round thanks to meme voters and the infamous “Monkey vs. Mango vs. Emo Kid” vote war.
But internet hype has a shelf life.
Zhou Xiao — aka Mango — had already dropped to 47th, and Wei Lai fell to 52nd.
Naturally, Mao Ding thought he was done for. He was daydreaming about what to eat for dinner when suddenly his name was called at 13th place. He pointed to himself, stunned: “…Me?!”
Did my ancestors bless me from beyond the grave or something?!
Li Ying went on to announce 9th, 8th, and 7th: Deng Yangbing, Zhu Zhu, and Min Xixi — all of whom looked completely baffled, as if they couldn’t believe they ranked that high.
But then, another shocking result was revealed—
6th place, with 3,683,033 votes: Cen Chi.
Most of the trainees in the audience were visibly stunned, whispering among themselves: “…How is that possible? Cen Chi was second place in the zero round!”
Cen Chi had real, loyal fans — you could tell from the four votes he got in the first performance round.
To drop from second to sixth? That was a nosedive.
And then came the most absurd twist yet…
Tan Shen — 2nd place, with 4,125,991 votes.
And the gap between his vote count and that of the three trailing him — Chu Li, Fu Xunying, and Duanmu Hongxue — was no small one.
Yue Zhaolin: “?”
Tan Shen: “?”
Fu Xunying: “??”
The vote count was so absurd that Yue Zhaolin’s first reaction was: This probably isn’t vote rigging — no one would dare make it this blatant.
Sitting at 41st place, Shu Yang caught sight of all their expressions and suddenly felt a strange sense of lonely enlightenment — everyone else is drunk, and only I remain sober.
He’d been deeply embedded in fan circles, checking his phone obsessively, so he already knew exactly why this had happened.
The main culprit? The “ChiYue Eternal” CP fans had seriously gone too far.
They treated their delusions like facts. It would’ve been one thing to just keep their fantasies to themselves, but they spammed live stream bullet chats at the fan meet, claiming Cen Chi and Yue Zhaolin had secretly kissed.
But Yue Zhaolin’s fans weren’t the type to just let things slide.
Originally, they simply refused to vote for Cen Chi or Fu Xunying. But after being provoked, a portion of the fanbase said nothing — they just quietly shifted all their votes to Cen Chi’s direct competition.
And just like that… Cen Chi was knocked down.
…
Li Ying announced, “The trainee ranked first received a total of 28,725,679 votes in the first round of voting.”
As he spoke, his eyes were already smiling as they turned to Yue Zhaolin.
“That trainee is — Yue Zhaolin!”
Hearing his name, Yue Zhaolin took in a sharp breath.
“The next No.1 will be yours too, baby!” — that sentence echoed in his mind.
Even though he had mentally prepared for this, he still couldn’t hide his excitement.
Yue Zhaolin broke into a smile, carrying in his heart the long-prepared speech thanking his fans, and stepped onto the stage under the gaze of all.
…
Looking at that vote gap, Shu Yang couldn’t help but sigh —
Such a clear line between love and hate… and it’s measured in tens of millions of votes. Impressive.
