Trainee Ch.70

Chapter 70: The Third Performance (6)

Looking at Li Xu crouched sideways in front of him, Lai Yudong felt as if he were standing at the starting line, waiting for the signal to go.

In all his life, the few times he’d ever stepped on someone had only been accidental—like stepping on a foot by mistake. He had never stepped on someone’s body, let alone used someone’s back as a springboard to jump over.

Lai Yudong carefully relied on his good old method of “eyeballing it” again.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of falling—his athletic skills were decent. The move itself wasn’t particularly difficult, actually easier than that earlier vault-like motion with one hand on the railing. After all, he was someone who had once climbed over a wall.

By comparison, those hyperactive boys at school who climbed onto desks—or even the podium—and then jumped down probably faced greater risks.

But Li Xu wasn’t a stone pedestal.

In fact, Li Xu was bearing far more of the burden than he was. And yet, the spotlight would all gather on him; few people would remember who had been stepped on, only who had delivered the “high-energy moment” up front.

Stepping on someone with both feet—it really did feel a bit rude.

Lai Yudong recalled the moment they’d chosen their parts. Li Xu had immediately gone for rapper 1. Did he know from the original video what treatment rapper 1 would get?

If he knew, then was it to look out for Yin Zizhen? Or because Li Xu worried he would feel awkward stepping on someone else? Or maybe he just simply wanted to rap that part?

A flood of mixed emotions welled up in him.

“—What’s wrong?”

Li Xu had been crouching there forever and hadn’t felt any movement. He turned his head to glance back, his quick temper and sharp tongue coming online again: “Don’t tell me you’ve got a fear of heights? Should I get the crew to rig you up with some wires?”

Lai Yudong: “……”

…Calm down. Just step on him already.

[Li Xu successfully used his mouth to make people forget he’s the one doing the most miserable job]

[If I were Yuzu, I’d at least give him a kick from behind, hhhh]

[If Li Xu’s personality were a little better, his ranking would definitely be higher. The audience doesn’t like someone so aggressive.]

[Oh, please. Early on, Li Hong only had a sliver of presence thanks to that sharp mouth of his. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have lasted until his direct cam from the second performance blew up—he would’ve been eliminated. 707 instantly turning into 202 was just two extra strokes.]

[I like Li Xu’s type, what’s it to you?]

[No, but seriously, don’t you think the idea of rigging him up on wires is hilarious? Ahahahahaha.]

Sure enough, just as Lai Yudong had imagined long ago, Li Xu’s personality was a double-edged sword. Some people found him low in emotional intelligence and rude, while others loved his fiery temper and blunt honesty.

The more distinctive someone’s personality was, the easier it was for opinions about them to polarize.

In Li Xu’s case, this path was workable—the benefits far outweighed the drawbacks.

What was even more surprising was how Li Xu’s direct cam from the second performance had exploded in popularity.

Lai Yudong only knew from the barrage comments that the “Listen” group’s stage had gone viral, but he didn’t know Li Xu’s individual situation—Li Xu had never mentioned it. He’d assumed part of the reason for Li Xu’s improved ranking in the second round was the extra exposure from the group’s stage going viral.

For a rap group’s direct cam to blow up—it must’ve been something impressive, right? After all, it didn’t have the natural advantage that a dance group would.

He’s really good at reporting the bad but never the good.

Lai Yudong stopped overthinking and focused on the present.

If he didn’t act soon, Li Xu might really just stand up right there and contact the crew to get wires.

Taking a deep breath, Lai Yudong steeled himself and charged forward.

He leapt upward off one leg, the sole of his shoe pressing against Li Xu’s back. His other leg quickly followed, both feet landing firmly before he sprang off and vaulted over, finally landing in a half-squat to absorb the impact.

The feeling of stepping on someone was extremely strange, but fortunately, he’d made it across successfully.

“Are you okay?” Lai Yudong quickly turned around and patted the shoe prints on Li Xu’s clothes.

Li Xu looked indifferent. “No need to brush it off. This definitely won’t be the last time.”

“You stayed on his back a little too long. Standing with both feet on him is just to stabilize your balance, not to deliberately pause there,” Jiang Yangfan gently pointed out. “And also—you stepped on Li Xu’s back and just jumped straight down. That’s not right. You should use him as a stepping stone to spring up even higher.”

Lai Yudong was stunned. “I still need to jump with extra force?”

“Of course. Otherwise, it won’t even look as impressive as Temple Run.”

[True, you have to spring up for it to look good]

[Fanfan’s wonderful metaphors]

[Two dance-challenged people practicing acrobatics here /facepalm]

[Feeling sorry for XuYu for a moment]

Lai Yudong practiced several more times stepping on Li Xu, but he still couldn’t reach the ideal effect. After a while, he even started to feel guilty, thinking he should practice jumping on his own until it was almost right before doing it for real.

But his suggestion was rejected.

Li Xu gave him a look like he was an idiot. “And how exactly are you going to jump on your own?”

“Find a prop?”

“Where are you going to find a prop about the same height as me crouching down? Don’t tell me you’re planning to go to the cafeteria and play table-flyer on the dining tables. Be careful the lunch ladies don’t throw you out.”

Lai Yudong: “……”

…No way to argue with that.

He quickly ran through ideas in his head, but couldn’t think of any inanimate object that could substitute for Li Xu, so he had no choice but to keep tormenting his roommate.

“Stop overthinking it.” Li Xu ruffled his hair impatiently. “I’m just crouched there like a turtle, not moving at all. I’m so bored I’m about to fall asleep.”

Then he abruptly changed the subject: “Oh right, when you head to the laundry room, take my practice outfit with you. Save me a trip just for one set of clothes. Don’t forget.”

Such an obvious way of phrasing it—of course Lai Yudong could tell that Li Xu was giving him a step down, turning his guilty conscience into a favor owed. Even if the tone wasn’t exactly polite, the request itself was as simple as asking someone to pour a glass of water.

For his personality, that kind of subtlety was actually rare.

Lai Yudong didn’t point it out. He just smiled and agreed: “Alright, I’ll take care of it when we get back to the dorm.”

After that, Lai Yudong spent a long time practicing jumping on and off Li Xu. One of them had his clothes soaked in sweat; the other had footprints all over his back. Each of them was miserable in his own way.

Fortunately, hard work pays off. The move became noticeably smoother and more natural, and when Lai Yudong went to Jiang Yangfan for a check, he was finally given permission to move on to the next part.

The following part was simple.

The center lands, raises a hand, and snaps his fingers. That serves both as the signal to divide one section from the next and as the order for everyone to gather, followed immediately by a group dance.

It sounded simple—so simple that you could pull someone off the street and they’d be able to do it.

Lai Yudong solemnly lifted his right hand, pressing the pads of his middle finger and thumb together, then rubbed them forcefully in opposite directions.

“……”

For a moment, silence spread over the small area.

Only the shouts of counts and the sound of footsteps from the nearby practice group broke the quiet.

[Am I deaf, or what]

[? Wait, Lai Lai can’t snap his fingers?]

[Finally found something Yuzu can’t do besides singing, dancing, and rapping /doge]

[I’ve found my common ground with Yuzu]

Li Xu broke the silence. “Why’d it come out like a dud firework?”

Lai Yudong gave an embarrassed smile. “I don’t know how.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Li Xu looked utterly incredulous. In his mind, this was a must-have skill for every boy group idol to look cool.

Oh, right—he almost forgot. This guy wasn’t a trainee to begin with.

“It’s fine if you can’t do it.” Jiang Yangfan said with a bright smile. “We can just record the snap sound into the audio. On stage, you only need to make the gesture.”

“Other people get trending for lip-syncing or faking instruments, and now Miura’s going to trend for fake finger-snapping. What kind of ridiculous tag is that? He’ll look like an idiot,” Li Xu complained.

Lai Yudong: “……”

He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now that it was said out loud, it really did sound kind of dumb.

But still—it wasn’t like he was guaranteed to trend.

And even if he did trend, it didn’t have to be under “fake finger-snapping,” right?

Jiang Yangfan kept brainstorming. “You could click your tongue once and pretend it’s the sound of a snap?”

Li Xu was so shocked he even applauded. “You’re really a little genius.”

[Bro, that’s way too absurd]

[Good idea, but now the entire country knows]

[Don’t say that kind of filter-breaking stuff in front of the cameras, kkkkk]

[I’m afraid I’ll start laughing and ruin the mood when the time comes]

After things had been said to this extent, insisting on not learning would only cement his “idiot” label. Finger-snapping wasn’t optional anymore—he had to learn it.

Lai Yudong put out a call: “Do any of you know how to snap?”

That’s what he said, but his eyes were firmly locked on Li Xu.

He didn’t know why—maybe it was just his vibe—but he instinctively assumed Li Xu would definitely know how to do it.

Like fish swimming, birds flying, monkeys climbing trees… Li Xu snapping his fingers just fit right into that chain.

“Isn’t this easy?”

Living up to expectations, Li Xu raised his hand and snapped with practiced ease, producing a crisp “pop.”

Lai Yudong’s eyes lit up. “Big Brother Xu—”

Li Xu’s eyelid twitched. “Don’t start going crazy here.”

He couldn’t understand why this roommate of his, who was usually fairly normal, kept blurting out these strange nicknames today.

Had he been influenced by Yin Zizhen?

Congratulations to Li Xu—he had hit upon the truth.

“How do you do it?” Lai Yudong leaned in curiously, raising his hand and posing as if to snap. “Is this how you place your fingers?”

“That’s a middle-finger version of an orchid hand gesture.” Li Xu rolled his eyes and resigned himself to acting as a hand model. “Curl in your ring finger and pinky, don’t stick them out. Here—place it right under the base of your thumb.”

Lai Yudong fiddled with it. “Like this?”

“Yeah, then strike your middle finger against the base of your thumb.” Li Xu snapped smoothly, producing a crisp sound—making it look as simple as he said.

Lai Yudong nodded, half-understanding, and tried to imitate him.

Hmm…

No sound.

Refusing to give up, Lai Yudong tried a few more times until his fingers were so red it felt like they might spark, but not a single snap came out.

“What’s going on?” Li Xu hadn’t expected that such a detailed tutorial would still result in a dud. He gave Lai Yudong a strange up-and-down look but couldn’t figure it out. “Weird. Are your hands broken or something?”

Lai Yudong said blankly, “I’d like to know that too.”

[What happened, are Yuzu’s fingers mute?]

[Don’t make me laugh]

[I get Yuzu so well! I can’t learn it either!!]

[I’m not the only one in front of my screen trying to snap along with Yuzu, right?]

“—Pop.”

A crisp snap cut through the conversation.

It wasn’t from Lai Yudong, nor from Li Xu, but from Jiang Yangfan, who had just unlocked the skill.

“Got it.” Jiang Yangfan smiled as he met their gazes, pressing his fingers together into a trumpet-like shape. “It’s similar to clapping—your fingers create a hollow chamber.”

Lai Yudong pinched his chin thoughtfully. “So the essence isn’t the fingers colliding to make a sound, but the vibration they produce?”

“Right, that’s why all four fingers have to work together.”

Lai Yudong’s eyes lit up in sudden realization. “I get it now.”

He raised his right hand again, going through the same motions while making slight adjustments. At the moment when two fingers struck against the base of his thumb from slightly different angles, the snap that had always fizzled out finally produced a clean, crisp sound.

Pop.

Success.

Lai Yudong’s face broke into delight. “That’s all it takes? That’s actually pretty simple.”

Li Xu: “……”

…Taught like this?

Wait—what hollow chamber? Why were those two able to communicate without a hitch?

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