Chapter 26: Halftime Break (2)
Question: What should you do if you accidentally walk in on your short-tempered roommate crying in the bathroom?
Lai Yudong’s original plan was to quietly slip away unnoticed, then wait until Li Xu calmed down before gently bringing it up. If Li Xu remained in a negative state for too long, then he’d consider how to offer some help.
People like Li Xu—hot-headed and blunt—tended to have strong pride. The fact that he’d held back until now and chosen to cry somewhere the cameras couldn’t reach was proof enough. And yet, just his luck, a roommate had to catch him in the act.
The awkwardness itself wasn’t a big deal; what mattered was avoiding making the situation worse and setting him off. Retreating for the moment seemed the safest option.
As for circling back later… well, that step could’ve been skipped—it was almost as difficult as comforting him on the spot. But Li Xu had once stood up for him before. Lai Yudong couldn’t just pretend nothing had happened.
But all of that was based on the lovely assumption that he’d been unnoticed.
The current problem was—
How was he supposed to diffuse this awkwardness?
At the bathroom door, two figures—one in gold, one in red—stood frozen like time itself had stopped.
Compared to Lai Yudong, who was hugging two buckets of instant noodles and deep in thought, Li Xu looked like he’d just swallowed a fly. His eyes widened in shock, tears clinging to the corners and refusing to fall.
A beat later, he finally reacted—clenching his fists and furrowing his brows, his face twisted into a fierce scowl, like a bristling wildcat arching its back and warning others not to come closer.
A normal person would probably give an awkward laugh and flee in panic.
But doing that would only leave the two of them—living under the same roof—in a prolonged awkward limbo. Worse still, anyone who didn’t know the truth might assume something… inappropriate had happened between them.
So, Lai Yudong ignored the other’s show of hostility. Pretending he hadn’t seen anything, he raised one of the instant noodle cups and asked—reluctantly offering a sacrifice:
“Want some? I’ll share half with you.”
He had no choice—if he was going to share, it had to be from his own cup. After all, the instant noodles belonged to Zhou Rui.
“……”
Li Xu stayed silent for a few seconds. He messily wiped his tears with his sleeve, his voice hoarse from crying: “No.”
Seeing the red-haired boy’s tear-streaked face, Lai Yudong pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket and handed it over. “You got snot on your clothes.”
Li Xu hurriedly checked himself in a panic. Aside from a few damp patches on his sleeve, there was nothing else. Realizing he’d been tricked, he glared furiously: “I didn’t! I’m not a little kid!”
Faced with his roommate’s accusation, Lai Yudong wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. He hadn’t expected his offhand joke to be taken seriously.
Helplessly, he pushed the tissue packet forward a little more. “Still, wipe up anyway.”
“……”
With a sulky expression, Li Xu snatched the tissues and pulled one out. Once he’d tidied himself up, he left a single parting line—“Don’t tell anyone”—then turned and walked out of the bathroom without looking back.
Lai Yudong figured there was no reason to tell anyone about something like this anyway.
Looks like he’d guessed right—this roommate was the type who really cared what others thought of him.
Setting that little episode aside for now, Lai Yudong and the newly returned Zhou Rui decided to head to the first-floor cafeteria to eat. At this hour, most people had already finished their meals, so there was no need to worry about others swooping in and finishing off their instant noodles.
You couldn’t really blame them for being stingy—instant noodles were a resource as rare and precious as gold in this place.
[Damn, they’re sneaking in a late-night snack!]
[I knew Zhou Rui looked sneaky when he approached Yuki earlier—turns out it was a midnight food op.]
[Honestly, sharing instant noodles is basically a life-or-death bond at this point.]
[Can y’all stop acting like instant noodles are sacred treasures lol]
Lai Yudong didn’t think that was an exaggeration at all.
The steaming bowl of spicy beef noodles gave off a mouthwatering aroma. He ate each bite of noodle and sip of broth with reverent devotion, as if this were the first time in his life he’d ever tasted such a heavenly feast.
And it didn’t stop there—Zhou Rui even traded his golden broth beef noodles with him, creating a flavor combo that felt like a double miracle.
“I brought other stuff too,” Zhou Rui said after sipping some soup. “Prepared according to each stage of the show—after every round, we’ll eat one to celebrate. Once Round One ends, we’ll have another little feast.”
“What else did you bring?” Lai Yudong asked.
Zhou Rui started counting on his fingers: “Hot and sour noodles, meal kits, self-heating hotpot…”
Lai Yudong gave a thumbs-up in admiration. “You’re like the instant-food version of Little Master Chef.”
[I’m dying—Yuzu actually has a sense of humor lmao]
[Did Zhou Rui think the show wasn’t going to feed them or something ]
[The rest is fine but… why even meal kits? HOW??]
After finishing their late-night feast, the two parted ways on the fourth floor.
Coincidentally, Zhou Rui’s dorm was also at the end of the hallway—but his was Room 404, a ten-person room that he had jokingly complained about more than once.
404 Not Found. Like a cursed room number that came with a built-in debuff.
But superstition wasn’t a good thing.
…
Room 707.
Liang Zhisheng was holding a whiteboard he had found in a corner of the room. After wiping it clean, he was about to hang it on the hook by the door when a knock sounded—followed by the door swinging open.
Lai Yudong had returned.
“Yuki, perfect timing,” Liang Zhisheng said, tapping the whiteboard in his arms. “We need to set some dorm rules.”
Lai Yudong stepped aside. “Alright.”
At the desk, Xu An and Li Xu were playing a game of Old Maid. Each had only a few cards left in their hands, while a pile of matched pairs lay scattered across the table.
Lai Yudong sat on the edge of his bed and quietly observed them. Li Xu appeared calm and collected, as if nothing had ever happened in the bathroom earlier—as if that whole incident had been a figment of Lai Yudong’s imagination.
Hopefully, he really was fine now.
At the top of the whiteboard, Liang Zhisheng wrote the large title: “Room 707 Dorm Agreement.” Then he turned to face his card-playing and card-watching roommates, feeling strangely like a kindergarten teacher: “Okay, everyone gets to suggest one rule. I’ll go first—no littering.”
Li Xu drew a card. “Stay quiet after lights out.”
“Hm…” Xu An drew a card too, which happened to complete a pair. He placed it down and said, “Don’t touch other people’s things without permission?”
“Peaceful coexistence,” Lai Yudong offered, unable to think of anything more specific.
It was easy to see that the rules each person suggested reflected their own personalities in subtle but clear ways.
By the second round, Lai Yudong had bowed out. Xu An followed by the third. In contrast, Liang Zhisheng kept enthusiastically adding rule after rule—mostly about hygiene: rotating cleaning duties, emptying the trash on time, and so on.
[Liang Zhisheng is definitely the clean freak of the dorm, lol]
[Yuzu’s such a good person—he only asked for peaceful coexistence]
[Socially anxious people just want a friendly atmosphere ]
After writing down the final dorm rule—also the only one unrelated to hygiene—“Be happy every day”, Liang Zhisheng hung the whiteboard behind the door and clapped his hands in satisfaction.
“Alright, let’s all get along from now on.”
What greeted him was three half-hearted responses, as the other roommates were gathered around, tensely watching Li Xu draw his final card.
“Yes!” Li Xu slammed his last two cards on the table. “I win! A comeback!”
The other two clapped along in support.
Liang Zhisheng: “…”
Liang Zhisheng: “Uh, how about… we line up by age?”
He was starting to suspect he was living with a bunch of kids.
Li Xu: “I just turned eighteen.”
Lai Yudong: “Nineteen.”
Xu An: “Let me think… hmm… twenty-one.”
Twenty-five-year-old Liang Zhisheng had nothing more to say.
—
In a well-produced idol survival show, aside from regular filming and live performance stages, bonus content is a crucial component. This includes mini games, dorm diaries, daily practice footage, and more.
These segments, released during days without main episodes, help maintain audience engagement. Viewers treat them like “electronic pickled vegetables”—fun, flavorful side dishes that not only showcase new trainees, but also let fans get to know their off-stage personalities.
Therefore, unlike the edited daily clips, the recording of this bonus content doesn’t come with a live broadcast.
Which meant no live comments either.
Today’s shoot was a must-have segment: the “Mystery Box Challenge.”
The 101 trainees were divided into pairs by the production team, with one person left to form a solo group. The rules were simple: both participants reach into the box at the same time and guess the mystery item inside through touch. Whoever raises their hand and answers correctly first within one minute wins.
The winner gets a reward: a selfie post released publicly to the “Starseekers” (fans).
Before filming began, no one knew who they’d be paired with.
Lai Yudong silently prayed that he’d get someone he knew well—or at least a trainee with a good personality.
He simply couldn’t picture himself doing the Mystery Box challenge with Zeng Kai—the awkwardness would’ve been second only to catching Li Xu crying in the bathroom.
Fortunately, his sincere prayers were answered.
“Next pair: Miura Yuki, Qu Xincheng.”
Lai Yudong let out a breath of relief.
Although he hadn’t interacted with Qu Xincheng before, the guy was widely known for being a “nice guy” and “really handsome.” He didn’t seem like the difficult type to deal with at all. Honestly, it felt like drawing an SSR card.
There was also the possibility that the production team had arranged it deliberately for the sake of creating buzz.
But the reason didn’t matter. What mattered was the result.
Qu Xincheng—often teased by the comment section as “the crown prince”—stepped into the filming room. His soft, layered haircut gave off a youthful, boyish vibe, and with visuals ranking in the top among trainees, he looked every bit the classic school prince.
But for some reason, he looked visibly nervous.
And when he spotted his already-waiting partner, he froze up completely.
Lai Yudong had just been about to greet him, but before he could even open his mouth, the other suddenly launched into a memorized-sounding English self-introduction—complete with a few awkward stumbles on certain words.
Lai Yudong: “……”
What…?
His first thought was—
Wait, did the producers add some international-flavor gimmick to this segment?
Did he need to respond with English too?
Seeing the blond youth’s blank expression, Qu Xincheng looked defeated. “Is my English too bad…? Did you not understand?”
“I understood,” Lai Yudong quickly replied. No way was he going to solidify the “fish that escaped the net” image.
“Eh?”
Lai Yudong more or less figured out what had happened:
Qu Xincheng probably assumed he didn’t speak Chinese, so he’d specially prepared that intro in English. Which, to be fair, lined up with what people said about his personality.
The intention was sweet—but maybe hold off on the execution for now.
He hadn’t been nervous at all at first—but that unexpected curveball completely caught him off guard, leaving him so flustered it felt like he had caught Qu Xincheng’s nerves by osmosis!
To stop things from spiraling into complete chaos, Lai Yudong decisively put an end to it:
“Please speak Chinese.”
This is China—if you don’t speak Chinese, you’re getting kicked out!
————————————————
**Author’s Note
《Room 707 Dorm Rules – Full Version》
Don’t litter. (Liang)
Stay quiet after lights out. (Li)
Don’t touch others’ belongings without permission. (Xu)
Peaceful coexistence. (Lai)
Take turns cleaning. (Liang)
Speak up if something’s bothering you—don’t bottle it up. (Li)
Knock before entering. (Xu)
Empty the trash promptly. (Liang)
Mind your own business and don’t cause trouble. (Li)
Be happy every day. (Liang)
Reasonable rules