Trainee Ch.75

Chapter 75: The Third Performance (11)

There were a total of five songs. The first to open was Moonlight, with Xu An taking the center position.

This group’s lineup looked strong on paper: vocal top Xu An, dance top Jin Xiheng, and even height top Pei Lan were all there. But this “all-star” combination only ended up proving the barrel effect.

The stronger they were in their own fields, the weaker they were in everything else.

With two weak spots dragging along a group of otherwise average teammates, the result was a complete mess.

[When the singing sounds good, the dancing looks bad. When the dancing looks good, the singing sounds bad]

[Someone save Jin Xiheng’s booming white voice]

[Isn’t this Xu An’s third time as center?]

[To be fair, Xu An’s dancing has never improved]

[Teacher Jin teaches very diligently, and Xu An also studies seriously, but some people might just not be cut out for this line of work…]

[Xu An isn’t suited for an idol group. He’d be better off continuing as a singer or working behind the scenes]

[Even Miura dances better than Xu An]

[Yuzu is great, and An Mu is great too, no need to step on others]

Lai Yudong kept sneaking glances to the side. The reason was obvious—Li Xu, next to him, had both fists clenched, brows tightly furrowed, and his tension spread out like a heavy dark cloud, as if he wished he could rush into the audience to vote for his bias himself.

He was experiencing a fan’s mental state up close.

Since Starseekers only vote after the entire performance ends, once the Moonlight team finished pulling votes, the next group took the stage right away—there was no detour to the break room to announce scores.

The second group performed A Disappeared Love Letter.

This was the most peculiar group of them all. Wherever Qu Junwei and Cheng Jinghao appeared together, the practice footage always looked better than the actual stage.

Precisely because of this, most people deliberately avoided choosing songs with the two of them, so they wouldn’t end up like the unlucky ones in Yi Jian Mei (A Sprig of Plum Blossom).”

Lai Yudong felt like he was watching a drama series. This episode told the whole process of the two going from quarreling to reconciling. Some of the dialogue sounded as if it had been lifted straight out of a novel, and he couldn’t understand how anyone actually spoke like that in real life.

During the playback, several ambiguous “tsk-tsk” sounds came from nearby.

Lai Yudong quietly turned his head toward the red-haired boy. The other seemed to have temporarily shaken off the gloom from the previous group. If not for the camera aimed right at him, he would’ve teased—

You’re shipping them too?

But then, Li Xu would probably chew him out.

The practice video had just finished, the stage hadn’t even begun, when a staff member pushed the door open and notified the Grotesque group to head backstage and get ready.

Grotesque was the third group.

As the competition progressed, each performance stage involved fewer acts. By the third round, the trainees had all built up at least some popularity. And since this time five groups were competing together, the program team didn’t need to rack their brains for ratings by saving the flashiest stage for last.

For building excitement, the climax was naturally more important than the finale.

Lai Yudong was very satisfied with this arrangement.

In the first performance, his group had been scheduled last.

In the second, they were the last within their category.

At last, in the third round, they weren’t the closing act.

The later you went onstage, the easier it was to get anxious.

Onstage, the Disappeared Love Letter group was giving their vote-pulling speeches.

Offstage, the Grotesque group gathered together at Lai Yudong’s suggestion to boost morale. They stood in a circle, stacking their seven hands together in the middle.

“Isn’t aiming for first place a bit too arrogant?” Lai Yudong voiced, modestly, the extremely high target he’d set.

Unlike before, this time he had real confidence—in his group, in himself, and in the Starseekers.

He wanted to fight for first place, at least secure second, though he was too embarrassed to say it outright.

At moments like this, what you needed was someone bolder.

“It’s not like we’re aiming for an overwhelming first place,” Li Xu said carelessly. “If we don’t even dare to imagine first, doesn’t that clash with our song’s vibe?”

“I agree,” Zhao Yifeng chimed in. “People need dreams. Let’s get the full two thousand votes!”

Lai Yudong laughed and said, “Then let’s secure first and fight for overwhelming first.”

At the very moment they all shouted together, “Go, Grotesque group!” Fu Hanyu finished introducing the style of the next song on stage, and the audience erupted into cheers.

The seven of them walked onstage in a line.

[!! Yuzu looks so good with his forehead showing]

[I’ve been holding back from switching to the break room camera feed, sob sob sob]

[Yuzu-baby turned into Boss Yuzu prpr]

[This group’s aura is so strong, like they’re here to collect protection fees]

[One of the babies is a little too handsome. I won’t say who ^ ^]

A boy with pale blond hair walked at the front with a cold expression. The studs on his black leather jacket glittered under the lights. On his left thigh, a decorative strap and leg ring added metallic accents, giving his plain black pants a sharp highlight.

He stopped at the center of the stage, his gray-green eyes sweeping over the audience. In response, a sea of primrose-yellow lightsticks lit up, as if he had stepped into the embrace of spring itself—and into that very gray-green gaze.

The audience numbers had doubled, yet the support lights in his color had increased more than twofold.

“—Yuki! Yuki!”

The chant, as neat and uniform as a military drill, drowned out the voices of other fans completely.

Though in the livestream chat they might call him all sorts of nicknames, at this moment they chose to unify under one name—just to give their idol maximum presence in the popularity rankings.

Just then, an ill-timed electronic voice rang out in Lai Yudong’s head, pulling him out of the world fans had built from pure affection.

System: [Host, would you like to turn off the live comments?]

Given that he had turned off the bullet comments during his previous two performances, the system deemed it necessary to provide a more considerate, intelligent service.

Lai Yudong gazed quietly at the sea of primrose-yellow light swaying before him, and for once, the tension did not spread through his chest as it usually did.

He had a resilient kind of nervousness: the level of tension he felt depended on how much confidence he had. The more confident he was, the calmer and steadier he became. What had always made his fingers tremble on stage wasn’t the cameras or the audience, but rather his own insufficient skill and popularity.

That lack of confidence was what made him unwilling to face the live comments.

But just as Ershun had said, the fans gave him the courage to stand on this stage. With their support, he felt he could face anything without being shaken.

So this time, he made a different choice.

Lai Yudong: [Don’t turn them off.]

…

Darkness enveloped the stage.

The entire audience held its breath until the prelude began, dim lights flickering to life like candle flames, eerie and deep.

Lai Yudong knelt in the center of the stage, head bowed, three teammates encircling him on either side. Strands of hair fell across his brow, half-veiling his eyes, while shadows covered the upper half of his face, obscuring his expression.

Countless hands tugged at his body, like malice seeping from a mire, threatening to drag him into a pit of sin.

[Yuzu kneeling looks so seductive…]

[I can’t take it, starting off this high-energy?!]

[Peel Yuzu /doge]

“Listen up.”

His low, husky voice landed on the beat. To match the cold, sinister music, Lai Yudong deliberately pressed his voice lower than usual, like the opening narration of a horror film.

“The following are the rules of the Fantastic Town.”

He lifted his head right on the beat, and the camera instantly cut to a close-up of his face. In the near-total darkness, his gray-green eyes sank into a deep graphite color.

Everyone was a reciter of the rules.

Insert the coin into the head by the door.

Before bed, remove your eyes and place them in the fridge.

Tear off the mayor’s skin and use it as stationery.

Enthusiastically guide visitors to the crematorium.

Anyone who leaves town without permission will be hanged.

The absurd and grotesque rules sent chills down spines. The eyeball props on stage looked as if they might creak and twist at any moment, swiveling to stare directly at the audience.

The music cut off abruptly.

The seven dancers, who had been moving like puppets, seemed to freeze as if a pause button had been pressed.

When the music resumed, it suddenly shifted into a new variation—distortion battling distortion. Drums joined the strings, the tempo of the beats quickening from restrained to urgent, carrying the momentum from buildup into sprint.

The suffocating atmosphere now begged for a single explosive breakthrough.

At that moment, Lai Yudong braced a hand against a teammate’s shoulder, swung both legs across his back in the same direction, the metal buckle on his leg ring flashing a blinding light.

In that instant, it was as though he had vaulted over the fence built of rules.

[That flip was way too cool, holy sh*t!!]

[I’m dizzy from his legs]

[Such a smooth move]

[I can’t take it, that leg ring is going to kill me with thirst]

[Am I the only one who thinks his wrists are sexy too? The veins are hitting my kink so hard]

The camera cut to Zhao Yifeng.

As main vocalist, his voice paved the way in the center, driving the atmosphere right to the edge of detonation.

The next second, the screen switched.

The pale blond boy crouched before the camera, left hand resting casually on his thigh, right hand raised with the ring finger and pinky curled, the other three fingers spread taut. More striking than the many rings adorning him were his obsidian-like nails, which made his pale skin look even fairer.

The rap voice came in slightly different, breaking away from the earlier heaviness—brighter, sharper.

It carried the arrogance and recklessness befitting the role, trampling the absurd rules underfoot. But it wasn’t out of any sense of justice or to save others—he simply despised convention, and so scorned everything.

When the rap ended, he reached out to press against the camera, shoving it aside with a flick. His figure vanished from the frame.

The very last second of the shot was his cocky smirk.

It was the smile of a victor.

[The camera work is way too cool! I’m losing it!!!]

[Holy sh*t, Yuzu’s like a whole new person]

[That’s an even bigger leap than in practice! Baby you’re amazing!]

[His speed’s so fast but still so clear?]

[Aaaaahhh I’m so nervous I could die! Yuzu, you really did it! Mom is so proud of you! QAQ]

[Forever loving Dong-baby’s English… (faints)]

[Yuzu should develop as a rap position from now on, you’d never guess he only learned this a week ago]

Right after came Li Xu’s rap.

He drove the energy all the way to the peak, his style and aura as close to the center’s as possible, perfectly following up.

Then main vocalist Zhao Yifeng stepped in again.

His flawless high notes caught the surging energy left by the two rap verses, sending the atmosphere of the venue into pure frenzy.

After several rotations of the center position, the song moved into the interlude.

With near-flying footwork, Lai Yudong shifted from the stage’s edge to the middle. He looked at the red-haired boy crouched ahead of him, and the scene overlapped with memories of endless rehearsals—the impatient urging seemed to echo in his ears.

He took a deep breath, ran forward a few steps, stepped onto Li Xu’s back, stabilized his legs, and then kicked off powerfully. Like an eagle spreading its wings, he soared upward and landed lightly, sinking into the ground with perfect control.

Then, he raised his right hand—and snapped a crisp, beautiful finger snap.

The whole sequence of moves was smooth and sharp, like a flamboyant rogue crashing onto the stage, making a bold and unrestrained entrance that showed off his flair to the fullest.

[Yuzu has taken off!]

[I hate that live streams can’t rewind, otherwise I’d replay this a hundred times]

[Lai Lai jumped so high, hahaha]

[Thanks to Li Hong for boosting him into the air! Much appreciated!]

[I’m flying too—Yuzu’s handsomeness just sent me soaring]

With the snap of his fingers as a cue, and taking the center position as the focus, the other six instantly shifted formations, gathering together and moving into synchronization with Lai Yudong as he struck his prepared pose.

The group choreography included several breaking moves: everyone crouched low, one hand on the ground, legs kicking and hooking back and forth, then a spin, dropping into a backbend with both legs extended, before springing back up in unison.

This intricate and fragmented section had once been the main reason the mentors gave inconsistent evaluations during the review class, yet now on stage it showed no trace of messiness.

As the final chorus ended, the performance of Team “Grotesque” came to a close.

The camera swept to Lai Yudong. Beads of sweat trickled down his face; he was breathing lightly, not from exhaustion but more from the stifling heat of the leather jacket he wore.

Noticing the lens on him, Lai Yudong made the same gesture he had used while rapping, only moving the pose from in front of his chest to beside his cheek, showing off his black-painted nails more clearly.

It carried the playful air of a friend flaunting a new look.

[Ending pose = instant cute Yuzu www]

[Good boy, still showing mommy your manicure]

[That explosive stage actually made me cry… T T]

[I get it. The moment Yuzu soared into the air, I burst into tears from how fired up I was]

[This team really had it tough]

[Yuzu, you did it! You caught all those plot twists and turned them around!!]

[No one could be more suited for the center of “Grotesque” than Lai Yudong]

[Anyone who dares say “Yuzu isn’t fit to be Center”—try it? Even if Yuzu himself says it, that’s not allowed!]

[Yuzu is the big C, the true C! He killed the whole stage!]

——————————————

**Author’s Note:

《Grotesque》

Center / Sub Vocal 1: Miura Yuki

Main Vocal: Zhao Yifeng

Sub Vocal 2: Lin Xiao

Sub Vocal 3: Jiang Yangfan

Sub Vocal 4: Song Yanxi

Rapper 1: Li Xu

Rapper 2: Yin Zizhen

<< _ >>

**TN

“The following are the rules of the Fantastic Town.” – written in English