Chapter 86: Halftime Break (2)
The meeting place was the screening room where they had filmed the first reaction.
Lai Yudong had lingering psychological trauma associated with this place. The moment he walked in, it brought back the painful memory of being blindsided by the first stage performance. He even remembered exactly which seat he had been in at the time.
A “social death” is the kind of wound that takes a lifetime to heal.
There were no assigned seats, so the three from dorm 707 naturally sat together in the last row.
Originally, Lai Yudong wanted to leave the middle seat open, letting Xu An and Li Xu—the idol and the fan—rekindle their dorm-room bond. But Xu An insisted on sitting at the far end, while Li Xu, once he went in, was too lazy to come back out and switch places. In the end, Lai Yudong had no choice but to cruelly become the “O position” of this little circle.
Come to think of it, Xu An and Li Xu hardly ever had time alone together. Instead, it was he and Li Xu who often ended up tangled in strange situations—like in bathrooms, at bus stops, and even in hospitals.
Fate works in mysterious ways.
After sitting down, Li Xu glanced at the large screen in front of them. “Don’t tell me we’re recording another reaction?”
“They wouldn’t repeat the same trick twice,” Lai Yudong guessed. “It’s probably some other activity. Before every ranking announcement, they always arrange a group activity.”
Li Xu had little faith in the production team’s creativity. “What kind of activity can they even do here? Watch a movie?”
“Could also be a quiz competition.”
Li Xu made a face of disgust. “Please, no. I hate those little games the most. They’re dumb and awkward, not the least bit original, and they force everyone to take part.”
When it came to people whose words never matched their actions, Lai Yudong always held a half-skeptical attitude. “Really? But you looked pretty happy during the flour relay game.”
“…That was only because my teammates were funny on camera. It’s not like I was that happy. I just—”
Li Xu’s quibbling cut off abruptly, his voice stopping mid-sentence.
The massive screen at the front—like one you’d see in a movie theater—suddenly lit up. On it appeared a young girl who looked a little like Li Xu.
Next to her, subtitles labeled her as: “Li Xu’s younger sister.”
“Hello, big brother! Long time no see, did you miss me?” Li Xu’s sister, dressed in a school uniform, waved cheerfully at the camera. “Since Mom and Dad are too busy to record a video, I’ll have to stand in for them and play the role of the nagging parent this time. You’re not allowed to complain that I’m being annoying, okay?”
A wave of astonished murmurs rippled through the room, with many people turning their heads toward Li Xu.
[Li Hong’s sister?]
[Got it—this is the tear-jerker family VCR.]
[Little Sister Hong is so cute, her personality is so different from her brother’s lol]
Li Xu froze like a statue, his mouth still half-open from before.
He muttered in a daze: “Li Yun…?”
Even more shocking than the family VCR itself was the fact that, without any warning, he had become the very first trainee whose family appeared in this segment.
“I honestly thought your terrible temper wouldn’t even survive the first round,” Li Yun said, proving with just that one line that the two of them were definitely siblings. “But somehow you’re just one step away from the finals. So many people have discovered that you actually have a likable side—and as your sister, that really makes me happy!”
Li Xu’s eyelid twitched. “What does she mean by that?”
Lai Yudong patted him on the shoulder. “It’s accurate. Straight to the point.”
“? And what do you mean by that.”
“She’s praising you for breaking the stereotype.”
“…I honestly can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or insulting me.”
[LMAO the sister learned how to talk from Yuzu]
[ngl, at first I thought Li Hong was the typical cold-faced villain cannon fodder straight out of an idol-entertainment novel]
[Didn’t expect him to turn out to be the group’s punching bag lol]
“You’ve always told me that you wanted to see a wider world. I could never understand your dream and thought you were just a foolish daydreamer. But through your performance on the show, I feel like I’ve caught a glimpse of the world you described. My brother… might be a smart fool.”
Her heartfelt words made Li Xu’s eyes sting red. He tilted his head back slightly to hold in the tears, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips that he couldn’t suppress.
But the very next second yanked him right out of the sentimental mood.
“And lastly—Yuzu, jiayou! I even bought a premium video membership just to vote for you! Big Brother, can you work harder and debut together with him, please?”
Li Xu: “…”
Lai Yudong: “Pfft.”
[Wait, she’s actually Yuzu’s fan??]
[I hereby declare that I’m family with Little Sister Hong]
[Sis, are you here to cheer for your brother, or for Yuzu, lol]
[She only told Yuzu “jiayou” /doge]
[All that buildup and in the end—boom, a wild Yuzu appears 233]
Li Xu stared incredulously at the light-blond boy trying to hide his laughter. “How come I never knew she was your fan?”
He couldn’t wrap his head around how his own sister—who often kept in touch with him privately—had suddenly turned into his roommate’s fan.
At the very least, couldn’t she be a double-bias fan?!
Lai Yudong: “Well, that’s…”
If they kept talking, the spoiler would slip—his sister was actually her brother’s fan.
How could anyone possibly know their own sister’s fandom affiliation while stuck in a closed recording? By telepathy?
Keeping a straight face, he smoothed things over: “Makes sense. After all, you are Xu An’s— hmph??”
Before he could finish, Li Xu panicked, lunging forward to cover his mouth. He kept darting frantic winks at Lai Yudong, whose face was full of confusion. “Ahem! Right, since we’re dormmates, of course she’d pay attention to you guys too!”
Lai Yudong: “…”
Could he be any more guilty-looking?
[Why are you two actually getting physical]
[What did Yuzu say that got him silenced?]
[Seems like he mentioned Xu An]
[Spread the word—Yuzu got obliterated by Xiao Hong to cover up the secret]
Xu An tilted his head in confusion. “You two are…?”
“Nothing, just a friendly chat.” Li Xu forced a laugh and withdrew his hand. He gave Lai Yudong’s arm a discreet pinch, hinting at him not to reveal his fandom.
Lai Yudong said coldly, “Murder.”
Li Xu: “?”
After hesitating for a moment, Xu An chose to trust what he saw. “Better not b*lly Yuki… he’s sick.”
Li Xu: “???”
Lai Yudong nearly burst out laughing. He quickly turned away, burying his head against Li Xu’s shoulder, laughing nonstop.
Only to be mercilessly shoved aside.
Lai Yudong’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Why are you b*llying me?”
Li Xu’s face darkened. “Don’t you dare play the victim first. Who’d even dare b*lly you?”
“Xu An just spoke up for me.”
“That’s because he hasn’t seen your true colors!”
[Are you two elementary schoolers or what kkkk]
[I get the feeling Yuzu is deliberately teasing Li Hong?]
[But Li Hong takes it super seriously]
[Total defeat for Li Hong (pat on the shoulder)]
In the middle of their bickering, the VCR switched to the next trainee’s family—Xu An’s mother appeared on screen.
Both of them instinctively stopped at the same time, focusing their attention forward.
“Xu An, when we first heard you were joining a boy group survival show, your father and I were very worried, because we know your personality too well. But seeing you gradually regain your confidence on stage makes me so relieved. You truly are the precious son I’ve always been proud of.”
Lai Yudong watched the VCR intently, a faint smile appearing on his face, warmed by the display of family affection.
A faint sound of sobbing came from nearby. He thought it must be Xu An, finally unable to resist the warmth of family after holding himself together so well. But when he looked around, the one with tears in his eyes turned out to be Li Xu.
He understood immediately.
As Xu An’s fan, Li Xu must know very well the hardships his idol had endured over the past three years.
Xu An’s mother smiled as she continued: “Grandma has also been following the show. She doesn’t really understand all those rules, but every time you appear on screen, she grins from ear to ear and says, ‘My grandson’s on TV again.’”
“When she hears you sing on the show, she’s overjoyed. She keeps praising how beautiful your singing is, saying you’re like a little bird whose song flies straight into her heart. She hopes you can fly home to her, but also hopes you can fly far away.”
“But no matter where you fly, you’ll always be the Xu An we love most.”
[Oh my god… T T]
[Waaah I’m wiping my tears like crazy]
[Don’t kill me with the family knife]
[In the end Xu An didn’t cry, but the two beside him couldn’t take it…]
[Xu Anmu: why are you two crying in a heap?]
This time even Lai Yudong couldn’t hold back. His heart was moved by the sincerity of it all, and since he had already removed his makeup, he didn’t bother hiding as he wiped the wet corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.
He missed his family.
Today marked the fifty-first day since he had crossed over. Of course it was impossible not to miss them, but he had always avoided touching that thought—because once longing for home began, the floodgates wouldn’t close.
As long as he threw himself completely into practice, there was hardly any energy left for such thoughts.
But now, in this moment, he couldn’t help imagining—if his mother had recorded a family VCR for him, what would she have said?
Take care of yourself and don’t overwork?
The food’s too bland—go have a big meal when you get out?
Don’t forget to ask Jiang Yangfan for an autograph photo?
No matter what she said, it would always end with—
Waiting for him to come home.
But a fantasy was, after all, only a fantasy.
In this parallel world, he was nothing more than a wild weed that had sprouted out of nowhere. Even if by some mistake of fate it bloomed flowers, even if it were decorated beautifully, even if the “Miura Yuki” label were torn off, it could never trace its way back to its true roots.
He would never see his family, nor receive the VCR that everyone else got.
One by one, the family VCRs of the trainees continued playing on the big screen.
Mo Li’s mother proudly displayed a support banner she had made by hand. Zhao Yifeng’s sister sang part of the theme song, completely off-key, making him bury his head in his knees. Bai Xuanhe’s father laughed at how silly and clueless he looked on the show. Qin Xu’s mother, far away overseas, cheered him on in Thai…
No one could predict whether the next moment would make them cry or laugh.
And among them, there were some particularly unusual cases.
For example—
Song Yanxi’s celebrity sister did a full round of “meow-meow punches” straight at the camera.
Jin Xiheng’s dance students recorded a hype-filled message that sounded more like a rap battle shout-out.
Su Junzhe, who still hadn’t gotten his long-awaited family VCR.
And then—
A sudden close-up of a nine-grid hotpot.
[Did the family channel just switch to the food channel?]
[Don’t poison us with this at night]
[Lmao whose parent is this 233]
[Now every time I see a nine-grid hotpot I think of Brother Bai and the 26 keys]
[But Brother Bai’s dad already showed up]
[Doesn’t look like there are many left, right?]
The bubbling hotpot sent up steaming waves; vegetables and meatballs tumbled in the spicy broth, and it felt like the rich aroma was wafting through the screen itself.
Following the trail of rising steam, the camera suddenly whooshed upward—revealing a completely unexpected face.
“Good evening, everyone!”
Liang Zhisheng beamed as he held up his phone. He looked much more energized than the groggy, half-dead state he usually showed on the program. He shifted the camera slightly, and another familiar face came into view.
Zhou Rui was in the middle of picking up a slice of tripe, and the sudden turn of the lens nearly made it fly out of his chopsticks. “Wait—why did you suddenly start recording…?”
Flustered, he quickly set his chopsticks down. “Good evening! Have you eaten dinner yet?”
“We’re conducting a site inspection for a future group dinner, definitely not filming halfway through the meal because we just remembered to,” Liang Zhisheng clarified solemnly. “Back to the point—this is a dedicated VCR. Since there’s only one main character, the others won’t be mentioned. If anyone feels left out, you can come find us for a PK after the show wraps.”
He dragged out his words, teasing: “Let me guess—crying again, Lai Yudong?”
I would be sobbing