Royal Ch.107

Chapter 107: Debut (The End)

When the eighteen trainees hurriedly changed into the matching baseball jackets for the theme song and went back on stage, the mentors’ comments were just about to end.

Some of the barrage comments were still screaming about the Suit Aesthetics group’s performance, some were listening to the commentary, and some were questioning why Rong Ruize hadn’t gone on stage.

[Final night is basically the last performance, but he! didn’t! go! on! stage! Even if his voting rank is high, can he still debut like this?!]

[Doesn’t this count as skipping an exam?]

[How is he still eighth?! And that clingy Zhihu guy is still ninth, who on earth is voting for these two?!]

[Isn’t the program going to give an explanation?]

[I even dragged my roommate along to vote, this is ridiculous!]

Rong Ruize’s absence from Suit Aesthetics had already made it onto the hot search, sparking explosive discussion, and the voting pool saw a slight increase again.

This kind of buzz was beneficial for the production team.

But they couldn’t just keep playing dead—they had to deal with it before the ranking announcement, otherwise it would trigger a trust crisis in the whole show.

The eighteen trainees stepped onto the stage, and the big screen began playing each contestant’s VCR. As for the little screen with the live voting chart, that was gone.

When the VCRs played, the camera would focus on the trainee, and the big screen would display his expressions.

Deng Yangbing’s well-educated parents appeared to cheer him on; Chen Wu’s footage showed his years of dance training and awards; Fu Xunying’s was practice clips…

And finally came Yue Zhaolin.

The VCR was prepared by Xingqiong, so Yue Zhaolin knew about it, but wasn’t very clear on the details.

So when the very first shot was of his rookie self bowing to the camera and introducing himself, Yue Zhaolin froze for a moment.

[So fresh and youthful]

[Aaaaahhh so handsome]

[The caption at the top left says this was Yue Zhaolin’s first day at the company, omg…]

[Even during his rookie days, he already stood out.]

[No styling at all, just overflowing with that youthful freshness, but still so good-looking.]

The big screen shifted, showing footage of him taking the trainee evaluation at the company.

With the name tag [Yue Zhaolin] stuck to his chest, even among a group of unpolished trainees, he was dazzling to an unbelievable degree.

[This was only forty-five days after he joined the company.]

[You can tell his basics weren’t that great back then, but his stage presence was insane. No way—this was just over a month in, and he’d already evolved this much?!]

[Such heavy star quality.]

[Xingqiong is really blessed…]

[Back then he was already practically living in the practice room.]

[It’s like watching Yue Zhaolin’s whole journey unfold—his growth is right there for everyone to see…]

On the big screen, someone asked the Yue Zhaolin of that time: “Zhaolin, do you have a dream?”

Yue Zhaolin paused. “No. For me, dreams are too far away.”

For a long time, his life—or rather “her” life—had been trapped by the word “money.” “She” hadn’t had the space to even think about dreams.

The screen changed again, this time to an interview room from the Starlight program.

“Zhaolin, do you have a dream?”

“……”

After a short silence, as if he’d just been pulled out of the practice room, Yue Zhaolin—wearing a T-shirt, his hair damp with sweat—smiled faintly and said:

“Yes.”

The same question, but this time he gave a completely different answer. There was a glimmer in his eyes.

“Why did your answer change this time?”

He smiled and said, “Because someone taught me the true meaning of being an idol.”

“Who was it?”

“Tide, of course.” He said the name as naturally and intimately as breathing.

[Got force-fed dog food again…]

[He just keeps bringing up Tide. I’m really starting to think Yue Zhaolin has separation anxiety.]

[Waaahhh I’m going to cry.]

[It was his fans who taught him the meaning of being an idol. How does this guy know exactly what to say?! How could fans not devote themselves to him after that?!]

Next, the big screen shifted again—Fu Xunying: “I want to debut.”

Chu Li: “I want to debut, I want to be seen.”

Yue Zhaolin: “My dream right now is to debut.”

…

All eighteen trainees appeared on the screen one after another, each speaking of their dream to debut.

At the end of the VCR, Wei Feizhang spoke at just the right moment:

“Training is a marathon forged with sweat, and the finish line… is debut.”

“The final moment of the finals is about to arrive—Star Producers, in nine seconds, the last round of voting will close completely!”

[I’m still blowing my nose, how are we already counting down… Wait, hold on, did that Zhihu guy drop out of the debut lineup yet?!]

[Looks like not yet.]

[Rong Ruize is still in too?!]

[What the hell, did the production team rig the votes?!]

[Isn’t this just like my teaching certification exam? Three subjects—miss one, and no matter how high the scores are on the other two, it still doesn’t count as a pass…]

[No, what’s the show trying to pull? Rong Ruize didn’t even go on stage—how can someone who skipped still have results? Cancel his score already!]

[Aaaaahhh I’m so pissed. If the production team actually lets these two debut, I swear I’ll kill you.]

[If they really debut, I’ll hate you for life.]

The barrage scrolled by in a wave of friendly condolences.

The eighteen trainees stood on stage, Yue Zhaolin at center position, facing Wei Feizhang.

Wei Feizhang: “The voting channel is now closed. Next, we will begin announcing the debut rankings.”

“In the past, ninth place would be announced last. This time—” He deliberately paused for a second, then smiled and said, “—it’s the same.”

[…]

[I cursed out loud.]

[Nothing against Teacher Wei, but who the hell wrote this script? Are they sick in the head?!]

[Do they think teasing people is fun?!]

[Yue Zhaolin for first place, totally deserved.]

Wei Feizhang: “Next, we’ll start the ranking announcements from eighth place, and move upward one by one.”

“Next, we will announce the trainee who placed eighth on Starlight’s Debut Night—”

“He has a unique, contrasting charm. Gentle in speech, yet resilient in character.”

[Is it Rong Ruize?]

[Nooo!]

[If it really is him, I’ll call the broadcasting authority to report this show, hahaha.]

The live broadcast kept cutting back and forth between the host, trainees, audience, mentors, and guests—dragging it out for a whole minute.

Many viewers who were watching a survival show livestream for the first time had never seen stalling at this level.

[Can you just spit it out already…]

[Fine, if you’re going to keep switching cameras, at least just stay zoomed in on Yue Zhaolin’s face.]

Wei Feizhang: “The trainee debuting in eighth place, with a total of 13,271,049 votes from Star Producers, is—Rong Ruize!”

The barrage filled with question marks, and half the digits of the complaint hotline had already been dialed.

The very next second, Wei Feizhang made a turn: “However, I have to share some unfortunate news with everyone.”

What unfortunate news? Could there be anything more unfortunate than Rong Ruize being eighth place?!

The venue broke into loud commotion.

“As everyone knows, Rong Ruize from the Suit Aesthetics group developed stage panic disorder because of how much importance he placed on performing.”

“Originally, his condition had improved, and he wanted to show his best self to the Star Producers on finals night.”

“But unfortunately, despite trying hard to step on stage again, he still couldn’t overcome it, and must continue resting to adjust his state.”

“So, Rong Ruize’s agency, Taihua Entertainment, contacted the program team to request his withdrawal.”

[Ohhh…]

[Then that’s not unfortunate—that’s a good thing.]

[Stupid show. Count yourself lucky you reacted quickly—two seconds later and you’d be dead meat.]

“In truth, every trainee standing on this stage has had their late-night breakdowns, shouldering immense pressure in places unseen.”

“Everyone, let’s give Rong Ruize a round of applause for encouragement, shall we?!”

…

No.

The applause inside the venue was sparse.

Wei Feizhang was used to hosting big occasions, so he didn’t feel awkward. He immediately shifted the topic to the new trainee stepping up into eighth place.

“He received 13,174,541 votes. He is—Chen Wu from Yaohua Entertainment!”

The moment Chen Wu’s name was announced, Yue Zhaolin started clapping.

As Chen Wu walked forward to give his speech, the barrage was full of cheers and celebrations.

[Yes!!]

[The main dancer has arrived.]

[No drama, solid skills, an honest guy—absolutely essential in a boy group, who gets it?!]

Wei Feizhang: “Alright, Chen Wu, please take the eighth-place seat. Next, we’ll reveal seventh place—”

What Xiufen clearly understood was that on finals night, the lineup within the debut circle almost never changed. What changed were usually just the individual rankings.

One-pick voting depended more on the number of solo fans. The more solo stans, the higher the rank. But there were exceptions—like people who got “rescued” by the crowd.

“Seventh place, with 13,787,620 votes—he is like blazing fire, burning himself on stage—the trainee from Shangmei, Mao Ding!”

Across the four performances, Mao Ding’s ranks went from 13 → 12 → 8 → 7. He thought of himself as an even better fit than Tan Shen for the word “leg pendant.”

This time Mao Ding cried too, though at least not with snot bubbles.

“For me to get this result, I really have to thank Zhaolin for the advice he gave me during the first performance. It helped me find my personal style…”

He didn’t dare say much more, and went on to thank the mentors, the PD, and his company.

When he went to sit in the seventh-place seat, his legs were so weak he almost toppled over.

[Finally remembered Non-mainstream Bro’s actual name—Mao Ding. Yeah. Gotta admit, that red hair is a bit much, but looking closely, the guy’s handsome.]

[This is one of those cases where his nickname went more viral than his real name.]

[I thought his Super Topic fans weren’t that many? How’s his voting this crazy?!]

[Got picked up by Tide, Maodou’s really thankful for them. Maoding’s got both skill and visuals, just needed a chance to be noticed.]

Next, they announced sixth place.

“Sixth place, with a total of 14,128,025 votes from the Star Producers, Deng Yangbing!”

Deng Yangbing’s ranks were 9 → 9 → 11 → 6, considered steady performance.

[He’s someone who could debut as the visual in Korea, lots of K-pop girls pick him]

[His hardcore stans are strong, huh?]

[Earlier he was overshadowed by Rong Ruize, maybe some casuals voted for him this round?]

Fifth place, Fu Xunying. 6 → 5 → 5 → 5.

Fourth place, Cen Chi. 6 → 4 → 4 → 4. The first elimination hit him too hard. Not enough to completely collapse, but from then on, top three was hopeless.

Third place, Tan Shen. 2 → 2 → 2 → 3. Early on he was just background, later his rap sucked in fans like a storm, but with voting time too short, he couldn’t hold on to second.

Second place, Chu Li. 3 → 3 → 3 → 2. His offline clash with Zhihu-bro gave him that “real human” feel, converting some casual fans into solos.

[Cen Chi really fell… I still remember during the zeroth round of voting, he was second. Now even Chu Li can press him down…]

[He brought it on himself]

[The moral of the story—don’t go into a big top’s livestream and cue your CP, their fans will * you out]

[Sigh]

[Once Tide stops voting, the gap between Tan Shen and third disappears. Brutally real]

[When the numbers add up, vote control is really possible…]

[Showbiz history (lol)]

[Crown Prince Ying sitting comfortably in fifth, not even pretending, I’m dying]

[So originally there were nine debut spots, but before filming started, a bunch were already locked, right?]

[The ones for sure: Duanmu Hongxue, Chu Li, Fu Xunying, Zhu Zhu (Zhihu bro), who went to work on the sewing machine, HK-backed Rong Ruize (stage panic bro).]

[That makes five already, shocking…]

Wei Feizhang went on to announce the rankings from eighth to second. Seven trainees in total, yet the process dragged out nearly forty minutes.

All the while, they pulled every trick in the book—suspenseful pauses, switching camera angles, inserting ads.

When it came time to announce first place, the atmosphere in both the livestream and the venue flared up again—even though everyone already knew first place belonged to Yue Zhaolin.

For Xiufen, this was a fresh experience.

Because this time, there wasn’t a first and second place walking hand-in-hand across the stage, nor were they standing together awaiting the results.

In Starlight, the center position had, from the very beginning, only ever belonged to one.

The audience began chanting Yue Zhaolin’s name, with both the relief of closure and the thrill of seeing him debut as part of the group.

“Yue Zhaolin—”

…

“Yue Zhaolin—”

At first, it was a jumble of voices, but somehow, it gradually merged into a unified call.

From the guest seats, many people turned to look at the audience, faces filled with surprise and delight.

The sound of “Yue Zhaolin” echoed around the arena, as though the place had become his home turf.

[Whoa…]

[Did the director do this on purpose? The audience is filled with blue-silver lights…]

[All eyes on him, all the love in the world,,]

[I’m seriously about to die of happiness]

The first place under everyone’s gaze.

Wei Feizhang sighed inwardly, then declared loudly:

“First place, the trainee debuting at center, praised by all the mentors as a born idol—

This trainee is from Xingqiong Entertainment: Yue Zhaolin! With 111,596,328 votes from the Star Producers!”

Even though he had long expected it, Yue Zhaolin still drew a quiet breath, calming the butterfly that had been thrashing around inside his chest.

Amid the tidal wave of cheers, he walked step by step toward Wei Feizhang.

Every step felt as though he was moving forward, borne along by the crowd’s embrace.

[Holy, broke a hundred million]

[That gap is insane—so wide the rest combined can’t even match half of his…]

[Now that he’s debuted, does anyone even remember the group name? Might as well just call it “That Group Yue Zhaolin’s In.” Truly a one-man carry]

[This feels so good ahhh]

[Wait, this number??]

[One look at 1115 and you know—it’s Tide and their inexplicable sense of ritual again]

[A Tide-sister I know said Suit Aesthetics was too addictive, even casual viewers got hooked and voted. Almost overspent—couldn’t even send gifts anymore]

[……]

[The idol and the fans both kinda have lovestruck brainrot]

[This pair, lock it in!]

Wei Feizhang handed the microphone to Yue Zhaolin. Even through his headset mic, the deafening roar of the crowd could be heard, forcing him to raise his voice.

“Trainee Yue Zhaolin, once again taking first place—how do you feel?”

On Yue Zhaolin’s face bloomed the brightest of smiles. Holding the microphone, he glanced at the glowing nameboards in the audience: “I’m very happy. Super happy.”

“Ahhhhh—”

Another wave of screams erupted, louder than the last.

Yue Zhaolin was usually skilled at controlling his expressions, but tonight, that ability seemed to slip out of his grasp. He was smiling—genuine, wholehearted.

The butterfly in his chest broke free of its invisible cocoon. Carrying his heartbeat, it soared over the sea of glowing signs rippling beneath the stage.

He was ecstatic.

It was almost a dizzying high, yet his mind remained sharp, exhilarated.

The spotlight fell on him as he began to speak, his voice gentle: “Back at the third elimination, I said there were some things I wanted to save for the finals night.”

“Do you still remember the first evaluation day? I got out of the car and heard someone calling me from afar. At that time, I still had a fever and my ears were ringing, but I clearly heard someone calling my name. I turned back to look, but I couldn’t see anyone’s face. I was very happy, yet also uneasy.”

“It felt like… I was being loved.”

“So, I wanted to give back that love, and at the same time, I selfishly wanted to hold onto it forever.”

“In that moment, it was like a piece of the puzzle of my dream had fallen into place. From then on, I thought—I want to stand on the stage, I want to become a true idol.”

“I want to work hard for the people who care about me.”

“Every time I saw support afterwards, I wondered—if I’m proud of Tide’s support for me, have I also made Tide feel proud of me?”

The words weren’t flowery, but simple and direct—yet they carried powerful emotion.

In the audience, the Tide fans began shouting loudly: “You ARE Tide’s pride!”

[Why am I crying…]

[Such heartfelt words, such a sincere face]

[Yue Zhaolin, to Tide, you’re already a true idol. Hardworking, improving yourself, no scandals, always respecting fans]

[Tide is also loved by you]

[Ughhh don’t do this]

Fans watching the livestream couldn’t hold it in, and those at the venue couldn’t either—tears spread through the crowd.

Even Yue Zhaolin, usually calm and confident, looked helpless when he heard them cry. He had meant to share his thoughts, not to make Tide break down.

His mind raced, and he quickly tried to comfort them: “Everyone, don’t cry… When we debut, I’ll show you all the selfies I’ve saved up, okay?”

Someone in the crowd immediately shouted back through tears: “—At least a nine-grid!”

[Hahaha]

[I’m laughing and crying at the same time, this Tide fan did amazing!!!]

Yue Zhaolin froze, then burst into laughter: “Alright, I got it.”

Yue Zhaolin continued, “Thank you to the PD and all the mentors for your help, thank you to the production team, thank you to the company, and… thank you to Tide.”

He lowered his gaze, the tips of his ears turning red, his eyes gentle: “…I love you all.”

[?!!]

[Aaaaahhhh]

[…I can’t take this]

[Why are you blushing when saying you love your fans?! It’s not like you’re actually confessing!]

[…Don’t do this, or I’ll really misunderstand and think you want to spend your whole life with us. I’ll believe it, I really will.]

[So pure, so innocent—excuse me, is this a first love confession?]

After speaking, Yue Zhaolin bent down in a bow, but the audience was already screaming themselves hoarse.

“I love you too!!!”

“Yue Zhaolin, I’m going to cling to you for a lifetime ahhhhhhh—”

Amid the thunderous shouts, Yue Zhaolin walked step by step toward the spot that belonged to him—first place.

The others whose rankings had already been announced, including Fu Xunying, came forward to hug and shake hands with him.

Wei Feizhang picked up the microphone and raised his voice: “Next, we will announce the final debut spot—the ninth place.”

This time, he didn’t drag it out: “He received a total of 12,874,998 votes from the Star Producers.”

“He is—Ao Liang’ao, from Huanyu Media!”

The camera cut to Ao Liang’ao (Orleans). He seemed stunned, not yet processing it. Someone had to give him a push before he snapped back and stumbled forward on his first step.

It looked as if he’d been dumbstruck with excitement. He hadn’t expected to make it, after all—he was originally a Douyin influencer, and many people looked down on him for that.

When he finished his speech and joined the debut lineup, his makeup was already ruined from crying.

Wei Feizhang took a deep breath and said, “All nine debut spots have now been filled. Next, we will reveal the group name for this season’s debut team.”

Everyone held their breath in anticipation.

“The group name for this season is…”

Wei Feizhang deliberately paused.

As he kept silent, the audience gradually began shouting the name on their own. Wei Feizhang heard it, smiled knowingly, and said, “Please look at the big screen!”

On the giant screen, a dazzling, intricate nebula appeared, studded with nine shining stars.

The next moment, the nebula began to move, the stars darting through it, then shifting into a new shape.

Nebula—

Nine—the Roman numeral IX.

Together, they formed: “Nebula-IX.”

Wei Feizhang: “Center, please lead the others in bowing to the Star Producers.”

“From tonight on, you will debut officially as Nebula-IX!”

As Yue Zhaolin led his eight teammates in bowing together, the stage’s edge mechanisms erupted—confetti and golden powder bursting into the air with a loud pop.

“Hello, Star Producers, we are Nebula-IX!”

Yue Zhaolin straightened, looking up at the sky full of confetti, the spotlights twinkling in his eyes. He spoke the words he’d rehearsed:

“Hello everyone, I’m Yue Zhaolin of Nebula-IX. From now on, please take care of us—”

At the same time, the prelude of Nebula’s debut song Boundless Starry Sky began to play.

The nine of them officially debuted as a group.

(The End)

<< _

**TN

Main story ends here. There are still extra chapters but unfortunately I don’t have a copy of them. This novel is actually still ongoing, with over 200 chapters.