Royal Ch.12

Chapter 12: “I deserved it”, “He deserved it”

Fu Xunying heard Yue Zhaolin’s voice and froze for a moment. He instinctively lifted a smile, then forced himself to smooth out the curve of his lips.

“I already told you, don’t push yourself…”

Yue Zhaolin tried to recall but his memory had gone blank after stepping off stage. The only thing he remembered was someone catching him.

Reluctantly, Fu Xunying replied, “It was Tan Shen. That mixed-race— I really can’t stand him.”

He was full of complaints he wanted to spill out.

“I want some water,” Yue Zhaolin said.

Fu Xunying was caught off guard for a second and said, “Oh,” then poured some water and got ready to hand it to him — only to realize he was lying flat on the bed.

Could he drink it like that?

Should he help him sit up?

But he’d never helped anyone like this before. His arms had to go around the back of his neck and also support his waist, which made him feel a bit awkward.

A man’s waist is a sensitive spot, after all.

Yue Zhaolin didn’t notice at all and said, “Can you be a bit faster?”

As soon as he spoke, Fu Xunying blurted out like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, speaking way too fast, “Why are you being so polite?!”

Yue Zhaolin: “Are you crazy?”

“You’re scolding me again,” Fu Xunying said, his tone rising but his expression completely relaxed.

He muttered, “You were unconscious for over three hours. At least the fever’s gone down.”

Fu Xunying, who had never served anyone water before, was very careful not to spill it. “Right, I’ll go call someone to remove the IV.”

“Is anyone from the company here?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the company got the news that Yue Zhaolin had fainted, Director Liu rushed over. To avoid disturbing Yue Zhaolin’s rest, she waited in another room.

Yue Zhaolin smiled faintly and gently pushed his hand away. “Go find Director Liu and tell her I’m awake.”

“Got it… Wait, why are you smiling so weirdly?!”

Liu Li entered the room. After Yue Zhaolin’s IV was removed, she found an excuse to send Fu Xunying away and got straight to the point: “The production team wants a re-shoot, and the company has agreed…”

Yue Zhaolin leaned against the headboard. “Have you seen my initial evaluation?”

Liu Li nodded. “Before coming, I asked the production team for the footage.”

Yue Zhaolin smiled. “Let me guess, you’re about to say ‘but’ after that?”

Liu Li felt a relaxed ease communicating with someone sharp. “But, Zhaolin, you did very well.”

Completely unexpected.

“This cold of yours actually added to it — it was a nearly perfect performance.”

“This stage can’t be buried, or it will be a loss for you and, more importantly, for the company.”

Though woken up in the middle of the night, Liu Li was incredibly excited.

That stage had the potential to blow up. Yue Zhaolin was meant to be standing at the top.

His ending on Starlight was already decided, but the journey wasn’t. Why not make it more explosive?

As for how the production team handles the sacrifice later? It was no longer Xingqiong’s concern. The priority now was to boost Yue Zhaolin!

The virtue of capitalists — selfishness.

While shared interests with the production team mattered, the company’s interests mattered more. For that, the company naturally had to use some unconventional methods.

No matter what, Yue Zhaolin’s initial evaluation must be preserved.

Watching her leave, Yue Zhaolin let out a quiet breath of relief.

…

When Yue Zhaolin returned to the studio, it caused a bit of a stir. Strange faces were everywhere, along with words of concern.

Anyone who didn’t know might have thought Yue Zhaolin was some kind of heartthrob.

He exchanged greetings and nodded at people, though honestly, Yue Zhaolin didn’t even know who he was responding to—he just gave a sweeping glance.

Luckily, it was the preparation time for the next group, so he wasn’t disturbing anything too much.

His eyes briefly scanned the crowd and locked with Tan Shen’s in the front row. Tan Shen’s eyes were also brown, but lighter—like translucent glass beads.

Yue Zhaolin walked over a few steps and quietly said thanks. Tan Shen’s brow was deeply set, and his features were sharp and aggressive—a typical “bad boy” look.

Tan Shen lowered his gaze and noticed the hand Yue Zhaolin was resting on the armrest. “You’re bleeding.”

Yue Zhaolin looked down, and Tan Shen pointed to the IV patch on his hand. When his fingertip accidentally touched Yue Zhaolin’s hand, it felt a little cool.

Nearby, Fu Xunying, who was already unhappy, suddenly tensed and pulled Yue Zhaolin away. “The next group is up. Let’s go back.”

Back at their seats, Fu Xunying noticed that just as one wave of excitement died down, another was brewing—the first performer, Cen Chi, was waving at his teammate.

As usual, first came the concern. Then Cen Chi pointed to the “A” on his own chest and grinned: “Can we share a dorm later?”

Fu Xunying: “…”

Annoying.

Once the excitement died down, Li Ying took the microphone and told the trainees to return to their seats. The initial evaluation proceeded methodically.

The final results were: Class A had 11 people, Class B had 25, Class C had 12, Class D had 17, and 36 trainees were in Class F.

Class F had the most people, including Tan Shen — who came from a modeling background and had a particularly sturdy physique for dancing. Being tall and thin, on stage he moved like a large stick insect.

Li Ying announced that starting tomorrow, they would begin learning the theme song.

Next came the dorm assignments. Li Ying paused and said, “This time, the rule is that trainees of the same rank will share rooms.”

“Ah?”

“A’s live with A’s, B’s with B’s — so that means…” Higher ranks would naturally cluster together.

Li Ying smiled and let the trainees discuss it for a while, then added, “A, D, and F will be on the same floor.”

While B and C would be on another.

“What?!”

Just imagine — D and F struggling through dance practice while Class A has already rehearsed the routine several times.

The pressure was intense.

Dorm rooms were four-person suites, but it wasn’t mandatory to fill all spots — two or three per room was fine. After all, the theme song would still be re-evaluated, and the dorm assignments might change.

The studio and dorm building were in the same complex. The trainees’ luggage had already been moved to the dorm lobby, ready for pickup later.

As the trainees gathered to discuss, Fu Xunying looked disappointed. “A and B aren’t on the same floor? That’s not fair.”

He asked, “Who do you want to room with?”

Cen Chi strode down the stairs and invited, “Zhaolin, let’s room together.”

“Sure.”

“Hi, I’m Meng Yu, an individual trainee. Is it still possible to share a dorm?” a voice sounded beside Yue Zhaolin.

He turned to meet a pair of gentle yet unreadable eyes. Meng Yu’s name was soft and elegant, like a smooth jade.

Yue Zhaolin said, “Sure.”

He didn’t turn anyone away.

Just a second after Yue Zhaolin agreed, someone else spoke up, “I’m Chu Li, Wanming Entertainment.” The newcomer looked a bit surprised. “Am I late?”

He had long limbs, especially a graceful neck and broad shoulders, with excellent posture. His phoenix-like eyes slanted upwards at the corners, giving him an elegant, classical aura.

Cen Chi whispered, “This guy is amazing—professional dancer. For the extra test, he replicated the previous contestant’s choreography perfectly after only watching it once!”

Extra tests were usually to cover weak spots the judges missed. For example, if someone only stood and sang during the initial evaluation, they’d be asked to dance for the extra test.

But this guy? He was showing off in his own specialty. Another royal?

Yue Zhaolin slightly raised an eyebrow. “Hello, I’m Yue Zhaolin. This is Cen Chi and Meng Yu. With you, that makes four.”

He started feeling a bit excited.

—

In the black room…

The director said, “By the way, later we’ll call the following people for follow-up filming: Chu Li, Fu Xunying, Yue Zhaolin, Meng Yu, and Cen Chi…”

Yue Zhaolin and Fu Xunying were listed last, so the other two went first to re-record their stage performances.

Without a hoarse voice and with the full atmosphere restored, this performance was much more ‘normal.’

The initial evaluations and the re-recordings were sent up to the higher-ups, but the director felt a little melancholic.

Snapping out of it, he asked his assistant, “Has the follow-up filming started?”

“Yes, it has.”

The questions for the follow-up had all been approved beforehand, but because of Yue Zhaolin’s ‘unexpected’ situation, they had to hurry through another review.

The director figured nothing else would go wrong, so he handed off the task, went home, and laid down on his bed, eyes closed.

After all, he was getting older—couldn’t keep up with the grind anymore.

—

Meanwhile, the follow-up interviews were underway—

[Yue Zhaolin]

Voiceover: “How did you feel when you got the first A?”

Yue Zhaolin: “Want me to be honest?”

Voiceover: “Of course.”

Yue Zhaolin smiled. “I stayed pretty calm, but inside my eardrums, all I could hear was my own breathing and heartbeat — it was so loud, it felt like my soul was leaving my body.”

Voiceover: “Did you feel happy afterward?”

He smiled again, recalling the cheers of “Jiayou!” shouted from behind the railing. He lowered his gaze.

“Very happy.”

…

[Tan Shen]

Voiceover: “Your initial evaluation was an F. Were you disappointed?”

Tan Shen: “I deserved it.”

The voiceover choked a little but pressed on: “…Do you think being an idol is much harder than you imagined?”

Tan Shen: “Yeah.”

His tone shifted: “Only someone like Yue Zhaolin can really be called an idol, right?”

Voiceover: “…” Why bring up Yue Zhaolin again?

“Yue Zhaolin got the first A. What do you think about that?”

Tan Shen: “He deserved it.”

“…”

[Meng Yu]

Voiceover: “After the initial evaluation, Yue Zhaolin fainted. You noticed quickly — was it because you’d been watching him closely?”

Meng Yu: “Yes.”

Voiceover: “Because of the ‘accident’ at the Zhaozhou Music Festival? You tried to stop that bottle but were just a bit too late.”

Though this was info the contestant volunteered, the production team often ‘guided’ the narrative to enhance the show.

Meng Yu looked a bit stunned. “How did you know… Yes, that bottle was right in front of me, it just grazed Yue Zhaolin’s head.”

Voiceover: “So you’ve been haunted by it, unconsciously watching over Yue Zhaolin?”

Meng Yu paused thoughtfully for a few seconds, then smiled and said, “Well… Yue Zhaolin is the kind of person who’s hard not to notice, right?”—dodging the question.

[Chu Li]

Voiceover: “You’re a student at the Central Dance Academy, coming to an idol contest. Do people around you think this is a waste of talent?”

Chu Li shook his head calmly. “Not at all. Yue Zhaolin came too.”

Voiceover: “…”

Why mention him again?

[Fu Xunying]

Voiceover: “What was the biggest difficulty you encountered while training for this stage, and how did you overcome it?”

This question was convenient for inserting flashbacks, like “Fu Xunying sweating it out in the practice room,” or “Fu Xunying practicing diligently.”

Fu Xunying seemed lost in thought. “…The difficulty… was Yue Zhaolin being way too much…”

Voiceover: “?”

Still mentioning him?

“Practicing with him, even our rest times were filled with his…”

[Cen Chi]

Well, this was an open “Yue Zhaolin fanboy” moment, no need to elaborate.

The staff were dead inside—

‘Director, you left too soon.’

Better bring in some trainee ‘actors.’ Otherwise, not a single one would say a bad word about Yue Zhaolin.

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