Trainee Ch.47

Chapter 47: Second Performance (2)

The grouping for the second performance was no less exciting than the first.

The “Bloody” team’s top-ranked trainees held a meeting.

Zhao Yifeng and Lin Xiao both joined Xu An’s vocal team, completing the “main vocal triangle.”

Cheng Jinghao and Qu Junwei somehow ended up clashing in the same group again.

Li Xu barely squeezed into the rap group “Listen,” which was like a battlefield where top talents fought head-to-head.

Liang Zhisheng, being the very last one, could only be automatically assigned to the rap group “Silent Night.”

[When will the 707 dorm boys finally get into the same team?! Even just two in one group would be fine! (bangs table)]

[It’s over, Mama Liang’s group looks so dangerous]

[Please someone save Liang Zhisheng, I just want him to make it to the third performance T^T]

[Li Xu is in danger too, that rap group is full of strong rappers]

[Yuzu isn’t in a good spot either, he’s up against five main dancers — and the weakest aside from him is actually Zhang Mingche, can you believe it?]

Lai Yudong glanced at the “Silent Night” group. At a single look, almost everyone was either a dance ace or a vocal ace, and even Liang Zhisheng himself wasn’t skilled in rap.

Passing the first elimination was already just scraping by; as for the second one…

He let out a sigh in his heart.

Once all fifty-five had chosen their songs, the crowd headed en masse toward the practice rooms — this time, each team had one to themselves.

The members of “Bloody” sat together on the floor. The very first step wasn’t to fight for center position but, under Mo Li’s suggestion, to elect Zhang Mingche as captain.

“Let’s first discuss who’ll be in charge of choreography.” As soon as Zhang Mingche spoke, his bearing as a leader was clear. Among the trainees, he was on the older side, which gave him an air of maturity. “How long have you all been learning dance? I’ve studied for six years — choreography won’t be a problem for me.”

Su Junzhe rested his chin on both hands. “I’ve danced for six years too, and I can choreograph.”

“Four years. I can choreograph,” Mo Li said.

Bai Xuanhe did a quick calculation. “About five years for me. But I used to do breaking, and I’ve only been into boy group choreography for about a year. Still, choreography’s no problem.”

Jin Xiheng counted on his fingers. “Thirteen years? I know a bit of locking, popping, jazz, and so on. I’ve choreographed for a lot of boy and girl groups.”

[‘A bit.’]

[Is it really just a bit? I don’t believe it.]

Lai Yudong, with his 0.08 years of dance experience, didn’t dare open his mouth.

This was clearly a high-level match.

Although Jin Xiheng’s dance background was leagues ahead of the others, he didn’t push to take full charge of the choreography — nor did he use it as a way to seize the center position. Instead, he suggested that everyone work on the choreography together.

“How would we do that?” Zhang Mingche pressed. “Do we all work on one section together, or does each person choreograph a different part?”

“My idea is that each person takes responsibility for one section. That way, everyone can participate, and each of us gets to showcase our style,” Jin Xiheng replied.

“That sounds good. Whoever’s on center for that part can handle the choreography,” Bai Xuanhe said as he flipped through the lyric sheet. “But what about the chorus and the dance break?”

“We can work on those together.”

“Won’t having everyone choreograph separately make the styles inconsistent and the dance too messy?” Mo Li, with several years of boy group experience, voiced his concern. “Everyone specializes in different dance styles and interprets songs differently. If we go with this approach, I suggest we agree on a unifying theme before we start choreographing. Otherwise, the final product might look pieced together.”

“Of course,” Jin Xiheng said. “We can’t just each work blindly and ignore the team.”

“Teacher Jin, I have a question.” Su Junzhe obediently raised his hand. “What about Yuki? He can’t choreograph.”

[Easy, just cut his part]

[Make Yuzu stand at the side holding up cue cards like subtitles lol]

[Yuzu pulling an all-nighter to learn choreography from scratch]

[Feels a bit like they’re throwing Yuzu to the wolves…]

Lai Yudong quietly lifted his head. Ever since the team’s discussion began, he had been hovering on the outside. This was a professional field he had no right to speak in; following orders was the same as not getting in the way.

If they ultimately decided on a five-person rotation for center and excluded him, he could only accept it. After all, he was just a “freeloader” taking advantage of everyone else’s work.

“I already considered this issue from the start,” Jin Xiheng said, picking up the MP3 player. “I listened to the track just now. The intro is very gentle, carrying more of a dreamy, aesthetic mood. It needs expressive performance to draw the audience in, so the choreography there won’t be intense — it may even be rather simple.”

“So my idea is to have Yuki take charge of the intro section. The intro in this song is fairly long, has strong memorability, and it plays to his strengths while covering his weaknesses.”

“Let me translate that for you,” Su Junzhe nudged Lai Yudong with his elbow. “Basically, it means you’ll be using your face to lure the audience in. But not just your face — since it’s atmospheric, it’ll also test your acting skills.”

Jin Xiheng nodded. “Yes. What does everyone think?”

Mo Li voiced his support. “I think that’s great. A strong opening really grabs attention.”

The others agreed one after another, with no objections.

“And what about you, Yuki?” Jin Xiheng tilted his head, smiling kindly, afraid of frightening the little chick who’d landed in a den of wolves. “What matters most is whether you feel it’s workable. If you have other ideas, please speak up — don’t feel embarrassed. The stage effect always comes first.”

“I think it’s very good,” Lai Yudong said.

Lai Yudong had no reason to refuse.

Not only had they not cut his solo part, they’d even found a clever way to turn his weaknesses into strengths.

Leaving him with an eye-catching opening benefited the whole group, and even more so himself. If this had been a first-performance group, they would probably have already started fighting over parts by now.

Whether it was Su Junzhe who had deliberately cued him in, or Jin Xiheng who had considered him from the very start, or the teammates who all voted in support — everyone in the second-performance team was genuinely good people.

The barrage comments were right: it really was like going from hell to heaven.

“Then who’ll choreograph the intro that Yuki’s in charge of?” Zhang Mingche asked.

“I’ll do it,” Jin Xiheng volunteered. “Since I’m the one who suggested it.”

After that, the five teammates divided up their parts as peacefully as picking cabbages, each one raring to dive into the grand task of choreography.

Then Zhang Mingche suddenly spoke up: “Wait a sec — who’s our center?”

“…” Jin Xiheng froze. “Oh, right. Who is it?”

The practice room fell into silence.

They’d been talking so enthusiastically that they’d completely forgotten the most important thing.

“Our parts are distributed pretty evenly, so maybe the center doesn’t make much of a difference,” Mo Li said slowly. “If we don’t deliberately highlight someone with formations or choreography, then probably only during the chorus will it be obvious who the center is.”

[Why the chorus?]

[Silly child, of course the center always stands in the middle during the chorus]

“Since it doesn’t really matter who’s center,” Bai Xuanhe said matter-of-factly, “why not just make Yuki the center? His part is different from ours anyway, so saying he’s the center makes sense.”

Lai Yudong: “?”

Huh?

Had he misheard? A name that absolutely shouldn’t have come up in this round was actually nominated?

It… it had to be a joke, right?

“It’s not impossible,” Jin Xiheng thought for a moment, then gave his reason for agreeing to the seemingly absurd proposal. “Yuki’s solo part leans more toward performance. Adding a chorus center rotation would make things fairer — otherwise he’d just look like a backup dancer with no presence. And since the chorus choreography will be made by all of us together, giving it to any one of us would be awkward. Better to let Yuki be our ‘model.’”

Lai Yudong: “??”

Were they insane? Someone was actually supporting this?

The scariest part was that he actually thought the reasoning made sense — he couldn’t come up with a solid counterargument.

Captain Zhang Mingche spoke. “Let’s vote then. Those in favor of Miura Yuki as center, raise your hand.”

“Shua shua shua”—all hands went up, except for the person concerned. A unanimous vote.

“Five votes. Then congratulations to Miura Yuki, our group’s center,” Zhang Mingche said, leading the applause. A burst of cheerful clapping followed.

Lai Yudong: “???”

Are you kidding me?!

An outcome he’d never even imagined had just happened.

[Why does your group choose the center like you’re playing house]

[Yuzu: pupil quake.jpg]

[Forgive poor Yuzu, he’s never experienced such a harmonious atmosphere]

Lai Yudong wholeheartedly agreed.

Wait, was picking a center supposed to be this casual? Shouldn’t there be multiple rounds of battles, everyone fighting tooth and nail for the role, while he could only struggle to cast his one precious vote?

So how did he end up being pushed into the center position without lifting a finger?

This wasn’t the bloody, cutthroat fight he’d pictured at all!

[Mainly because in this group the center is more like a mascot — what matters is who shines the most during their turn]

[Giving up the chorus center spot isn’t a loss. Better than those groups where the center hogs the spotlight the whole time and everyone else ends up backup dancing]

[The actual lines and parts matter way more than just the title of ‘center’]

[Everyone here’s a smart cookie]

[This way all six members benefit]

That reasoning wasn’t wrong, but…

Lai Yudong watched helplessly as Bai Xuanhe stuck the “center” sticker onto his training uniform. Even if it was only in name, he couldn’t help feeling guilty — like he was wearing a crown he hadn’t earned.

Suddenly, he understood Zhou Rui’s nervousness when he’d been pushed into the center position.

…Might as well accept reality.

‘I’ll sum things up,” Zhang Mingche raised the lyric sheet, the back covered with scribbles from their lively discussion. “We’ll build around the theme of vampires luring humans as a way of getting themselves an extra meal. Sexy concept, no limits on dance style, but we need to emphasize atmosphere. Like Xiao Su mentioned, that yandere edge can be highlighted through facial expressions.”

[Sounds like six scumbags]

[Calling bloodsucking ‘getting an extra meal’ instantly killed the vibe lol]

[This went from idol drama to cooking show]

[‘Yuzu’s Temptation’]

Lai Yudong: ?

Wait a second — did something weird just slip in there?

“If there are no more questions, we can start,” Zhang Mingche said. He then turned to Lai Yudong and gave him a personal task. “Yuki, you focus on the music. Listen to it until you know it inside out. If you can memorize it, even better. We’ll be recording the audio track in a few days.”

“Alright.”

“Do you still remember how to listen to music?” Jin Xiheng asked like a teacher doing a spot check in class, revisiting the lesson points.

Lai Yudong replied fluently, “Count the beats, separate the layers.”

After a few weeks of training in the elite dance class, he was no longer that clueless beginner who got dizzy just from counting beats. Big beats, small beats, subdividing into e-beats, a-beats, and “and”-beats — all those basics were no longer a problem for him.

If someone asked him to call out the counts during practice, he could carry out the task perfectly well.

“Good, as long as you remember. If you listen according to the method I taught in class, there shouldn’t be any problems.” Jin Xiheng reminded him once more. “Ideally, you should be so familiar with the track that you know exactly at which minute and second each new instrument comes in.”

Lai Yudong: “Got it.”

This was something he was really good at.

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