Chapter 62: Dorm Switch
[Waaah, #Yuezhaolin’sSecondPerformanceLookIsAncientStyle# made it onto the trending list—Xingqiong finally did their job!]
[Look away for a second and it’s already in the Top 3 Trending!]
[A viral trending topic doesn’t need fancy seasoning. Just the simple combo of Yuezhaolin + ancient costume = instant kill.]
[Isn’t that marketing account “Circle Kid” acting weird? It shows over 300 reposts, but there are actually only about 20 visible.]
[I know this one—because the rest are set to “visible to fans only.”]
[Who’s reposting then?]
[Probably fans from other camps or rival fans. Otherwise, why hide it? Just wait till the second performance airs. These people will be hiding under their blankets, cursing Zhaolin while secretly watching the stage.]
[Dragging Yue Zhaolin is their job. Watching his stage is their lifestyle.]
[That’s a very active lifestyle then.]
…
[Episode 6 has started!]
[Honestly, there’s no suspense about who’s first.]
[Thinking back to the zero-round voting stage, I remember scraping the bottom to gather names. I vaguely recognized some of the PD’s picks but wasn’t familiar.]
[Waaah, I actually know No.53.]
[Chen Fei? His rank is pretty high?]
[It’s mainly because his first performance look was good. That gloomy homebody vibe hit a niche kink (which, in China, has basically gone mainstream—y’all get it).]
[Was that look based on Zhaolin’s suggestion? Why didn’t the main episode show that?! Our Moon is not only beautiful and kind but also sharp. That look really did suit him.]
[Monkey dropped into this tier too?]
[The leech is here too.]
[Honestly, seeing Meng Yu just makes me want to say “bad luck.” His team dragging Zhaolin into CP rumors (as the “top”) was truly gag-worthy.]
[I only joined the fandom because of “R.E.” Don’t know what happened before—can any of the older fans give a recap?]
[Didn’t they shape Meng Yu from episode one as someone who has a “one-sided crush” on Yue Zhaolin? But the two haven’t really interacted much after that. Then CP fans made Zhaolin the “top” and Meng Yu the “bottom.” In their eyes, Meng Yu is the delicate little white flower—longing but never getting, low self-esteem, and depressed.]
[…?]
[Sister, are you even hearing yourself right now?]
[In CP dynamics, the one who gives more gets more sympathy from CP fans. So Meng Yu’s character setup is actually very clever.]
[Last time I accidentally glanced at the CP Super Topic, the CP fans were already fantasizing about Zhaolin going through a “chasing-wife-in-the-crematorium” arc.]
[Once CP fans decide who to pity more, the balance tips. You can totally bet they’ll start bashing Zhaolin as a heartless jerk someday.]
[This is my first time following a celebrity—I’m kind of stunned. People actually do this?!]
[This is so disgusting…]
[Can he just be eliminated next round? Out of sight, out of mind.]
[Brother Mango is ranked just below Meng Yu? I’m seriously considering voting for Brother Mango just to push that bloodsucker Meng down.]
[+1]
[It’s not just him. Crown Prince Ying with his arranged marriage setup, Cen Chi’s “ChiYue Eternal,” Chu Li and his “Deep Forest Encounter”—they’re all riding Zhaolin’s coattails in the top ranks.]
[Even the production team stirs the pot—like that April Fools “Quit the Show Prank” mini-episode. It had CP fans shipping like crazy.]
[I only watched the full version of the collab with the kids’ variety show. For the prank one, I just watched Zhaolin’s individual cut. The barrage comments were all CP shippers—made me, as a solo stan, want to scream.]
[I seriously wonder if their reactions were staged. Their acting was way too good.]
[Everyone, listen up—
First: if it was acting, being leech-bait is just the fate of the top dog. That bit of traffic? Consider it charity. (lol)
Second: if it wasn’t acting… well, fair enough. Our Moon really is a heartthrob. (lol)]
[Hmm…]
…
[Waited for an hour and finally someone I recognize is here—Red-haired Emo guy is back!]
[Ah, now I remember—I actually voted for Emo guy before. That time at the fan meeting when Moon thanked everyone in Japanese, it was him who taught him!]
[His name is Mao Ding, right? I’ve just been calling him “Emo guy.” Looks like he’s in the same group as Zhaolin for the second performance—should we vote for him this round too?]
[Let’s wait and see for now.]
[The rankings in the upper tier are so weird. Is the production team not even pretending anymore? So many “royals” up there.]
[“Freeloader Bro” is sixth.]
[I get mad just seeing his blonde hair. He’s full of little schemes, constantly low-key selling CP bait. That blonde should be soy sauce–dark instead.]
[We really gave Tan Shen second place, huh.]
[Tan Shen, as a background character, doesn’t stir up drama or steal scenes—he’s a decent leg pendant, so we give him a bit of dignity.]
[Here it comes—the vote gap!]
[First place in the first round of voting: 28 million votes. A new record in domestic entertainment.]
[The first-place contestant has 24 million more votes than second place. The combined votes of the remaining nine don’t even surpass the first—this is a dimensional-level wipeout.]
[Instant kill.]
[Not gonna lie, I have a bold, maybe ridiculous idea—since Moon is definitely going to debut in the final group, that means he’ll have teammates. But if one of those teammates has a risk of scandal, that would be bad for the group’s future. Worse, it could drag Zhaolin down too. So… maybe we should nip potential problems in the bud? While it’s still not one-pick voting, maybe we can help pick him some stable teammates? (I know this is totally wishful thinking and probably hard to execute—just sharing my thoughts, don’t roast me too hard.)]
[?]
[?!]
—
At the same time, in the Starlight Building—
Mao Ding, dressed in a loose short-sleeved shirt and covered in white medicated powder on the areas where he had developed a rash, strolled over to Yue Zhaolin’s dorm.
“Meng Yu, come out for a sec.”
The usual smile was gone from Mao Ding’s face. Once his eyes locked onto Meng Yu, he called him out directly in front of the others in the dorm.
Meng Yu: “…What’s going on?”
He stood up and followed him out.
As the door closed, Chu Li, who’d been sitting quietly and barely daring to breathe, looked wide-eyed with gossip-hungry curiosity: “No way—is Mao Ding’s allergic reaction somehow related to Meng Yu?”
He and Meng Yu usually had zero interaction. What else could it be about?
Yue Zhaolin: “You think it is?”
“Seventy to eighty percent sure?”
Cen Chi was grading Yue Zhaolin’s homework—some end-of-chapter exercises from Basic Music Theory.
Back then, all focus had been on the second performance, so there hadn’t been time to study. Now that things had eased up a little, Yue Zhaolin had picked up the book again, and conveniently, their teacher wanted to continue teaching it.
While grading, Cen Chi added, “Severe allergies can be deadly. Judging by how serious Mao Ding looked, it doesn’t seem like he’d wrongly accuse someone without knowing the facts.”
Mao Ding’s reaction had been so serious that he even skipped the post-stage vote and went straight to the hospital.
Not that the voting results were ever in doubt—Group A’s performance of “Crane Bell” ranked first overall, and Yue Zhaolin’s bonus votes just kept stacking on top of each other.
“Zhaolin, look, this half-beat here…”
Yue Zhaolin: “Hmm?”
Chu Li, watching the two of them studying so seriously together, suddenly felt a mysterious pressure—like someone was behind him, pushing him into the grind too.
Chu Li: “…”
He had joined the talent show because he wanted to take a shortcut.
No way was he going to grind. Absolutely not.
“—”
The door slid open.
It was Meng Yu who walked in.
He looked directly at Chu Li first. “…I know everyone thinks I’m suspicious, but it really wasn’t me.”
Chu Li: “?”
Why are you saying that to me?
Yue Zhaolin looked up and tilted his head slightly, asking, “So, why did Mao Ding come to you?”
…
The one who sabotaged Mao Ding wasn’t Meng Yu—it was a “friend” of his.
As for Meng Yu, he had seen that person enter the costume room, and he knew what they were doing. But he neither stopped them nor reported it.
Originally, Meng Yu hadn’t been directly involved. But after that “friend” got exposed, they tried to drag someone down with them—and outed Meng Yu.
Even so, Meng Yu stuck to the same story both in front of the staff and to Mao Ding: “I didn’t know what he was doing.”
But everyone knew—
He was a hidden accomplice.
The look the staff gave him, the look in Mao Ding’s eyes—they were like knives cutting across his face, slicing through all the masks he wore.
Meng Yu kept up the facade of being gentle and refined, but inside, he was in turmoil.
…It was ugly. So ugly.
Why was it that every step he took went wrong, always leading to the worst possible outcome?
At first, he’d just been lacking a little bit of luck.
Before the competition even began, he had hired a “professional fansite manager” to fake a CP between himself and Yue Zhaolin, thinking that would close the gap. But instead, the gap just kept growing.
What made Tan Shen deserving?
What made Mao Ding deserving?
He didn’t understand.
Just like now—as he tried to explain, Yue Zhaolin’s expression remained calm and detached. He didn’t say whether he believed him or not. He just looked vaguely bored and glanced back down at his notes.
Yue Zhaolin spun his pen between his fingers and spoke his name.
“Meng Yu, you—”
Meng Yu forced a smile. “Zhaolin…”
“You should switch dorms.”
“……”
Yue Zhaolin looked at Meng Yu and smiled as he said, “Today. Is that okay?”
Something inside Meng Yu snapped, like a string breaking in his head. He hadn’t expected Yue Zhaolin to not even bother maintaining the appearance of dorm-mate civility.
Switching dorms—what would people think of him?
Meng Yu didn’t dare imagine it.
Yue Zhaolin’s tone wasn’t harsh. “You have the right to claim you didn’t know. Then I should have the right to be selfish too, right? Meng Yu.”
He wasn’t a moral purist. He simply believed—Mao Ding’s sweat and effort didn’t deserve to be betrayed. In this whole incident, Mao Ding was the innocent victim.
Meng Yu: “……”
Yes.
Yue Zhaolin had always had the right to be selfish.
Back then, and even now.
In silence, Meng Yu packed his things and left.
He didn’t say a word to anyone.
One spot in the dorm was now empty, and Chu Li, caught in the aftermath of all the drama, muttered, “God, I was in the same group as him during the first performance. I had no idea he was that kind of person…”
In their previous impression, Meng Yu had seemed like someone both talented and hardworking.
“Will he still stay on the show?”
“No.”
There had been too many scandals before. Taking public opinion into account, the production team chose not to have the main and accessory culprits drop out. But in the next elimination round, they would rig the votes—
Even if Meng Yu’s vote count qualified him to stay, he wouldn’t. A trainee without backing, who still liked playing palace intrigue, was just a liability.
Cen Chi clicked his tongue quietly.
Stupid.
Trainees without connections should stick to steady progress. Grabbing hold of one lifeline is enough.
Knock knock.
It was Mao Ding at the door.
He’d heard about Meng Yu switching dorms, and it was like a weight had been lifted off his chest—along with all the pent-up frustration he’d been holding in.
“Godfather—!”
He burst into tears again, snot bubbles and all.
Yue Zhaolin: “……”
Yikes.
Cen Chi, knowing Yue Zhaolin had occasional bouts of germophobia, handed Mao Ding a few tissues. Mao Ding sniffled and mumbled a muffled “thanks.”
“Next week is the Soda Festival, and if this rash all over me doesn’t clear up, I’m gonna look horrible. What do I do?”
The reward for making it past Episode 6 was the Soda Festival.
Chu Li: “Yeah, that’s rough.”
Yue Zhaolin: “?” What’s the connection?
Chu Li was surprised. “The Soda Festival by QingPao involves getting sprayed with water. Zhaolin, you didn’t know?”
“I didn’t know.”
He’d never been to a Soda Festival before.
“All the guests end up soaked… right?”
Chu Li nodded. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s held in Hainan—it’s super hot there.”
Though it was called a Soda Festival, it was basically half music festival, half water fight. Guests performed and interacted with the crowd, while machines sprayed water to help cool everyone down—and get them soaking wet.
“For the Soda Festival stage, aside from the first performance song, there’ll also be a newly choreographed dance.”
As for the style of the song? Naturally, it matched the Soda Festival’s theme: sexy vibes.
They’d start learning it tomorrow.
Yue Zhaolin: “……”
He glanced down at himself—if he got drenched, wouldn’t everything be visible?
Mao Ding chimed in, eyes sparkling, “Wet look… pure yet seductive… wah—”