Chapter 69: Tide’s New Agenda
The GreenFruit platform offered multi-angle live streaming. Viewers could choose different trainees’ livestream rooms, and once inside, they could also switch camera perspectives.
This was partly to disperse traffic, but mostly—for money.
The show never openly admitted to the money-grabbing part; that would be too unsightly. Instead, they split the views into: wide-angle, close-up, and ultra close-up cameras.
The first two were free. The ultra close-up required VIP users to pay half price to unlock.
Within minutes of the broadcast starting, the number of viewers in Yue Zhaolin’s ultra close-up stream left all others in the dust. It was as if Director Ma could hear the sound of money flowing.
As for the other trainees’ livestream rooms…
Director Ma didn’t even need to check the backend data. Just by looking at the speed of the scrolling comments, he could already tell the massive difference in popularity between the livestreams.
Director Ma thought of Meng Yu again.
Young, small-minded, and overly confident in his stupidity—always thinking he was just one good push away from fame. How could that be?
First, he had no background.
Second, he didn’t have a strong public persona.
Third, his fanbase had no real spending power. Why would capital invest in him?
No return, no backing.
And Ma thought he was holding up pretty well for his age—better maintained than Director Ji or Director Mu. Yet Meng Yu came knocking on his door, thinking he was just some fat, useless guy?
No one else knew what Director Ma was thinking. His assistant quietly refilled his tea.
He kept watching the livestream.
…
In the livestream room.
“Yeah, I got my ear pierced.”
Yue Zhaolin had gotten his ear pierced for his role in Forbidden Timespace, since the character needed to wear tasseled earrings. But he had only pierced his left ear.
As for a vlog…
Of course, they filmed one too.
It won’t be released for now, since it’s being saved for a trending promo tied to the film.
Yue Zhaolin turned slightly so the camera could focus on his left ear. The piercing was still fresh, but it was well-placed—just a bit red and swollen.
Because the camera wasn’t too close, the details weren’t clear, but you could see his reddened ear peeking out from beneath his fluffy silver-white short hair.
[His ear is so red—does it hurt?]
[Does Yue Zhaolin not really have an earlobe? It’s so small and thin, and the piercing’s really close to the edge, but it looks delicate.]
[That’s a risky spot.]
[Did he get the piercing for the third round performance?! Time to start dreaming!!]
That last one, he couldn’t answer.
Yue Zhaolin said, “It hurt the moment it was pierced, but it’s fine now.” He then sighed softly, “I have to watch what I eat—no more candied hawthorn with spicy snack centers.”
[He’s giving away that he misses spicy strips, lol]
[Kawaii—]
[The staff probably already said this, but still: during the first week after getting a piercing, be extra careful. It’s easy to get infected.]
“Got it.”
“I can still eat the regular candied hawthorns though. Um, let’s start making them?”
Since there were a lot of trainees, they split into two groups—one group handled the skewering, the other handled the sugar syrup. Yue Zhaolin volunteered to join the syrup group.
Fu Xunying asked, “You just got your ear pierced—won’t the steam irritate it?”
Nearby, Tan Shen casually walked up to Yue Zhaolin and, without looking directly at him, handed him an apron. “Using the microwave?”
The production team provided two ways to melt the sugar: one using a microwave, the other using a pot on an induction stove.
Yue Zhaolin: “Sure.”
“I won’t bother with the apron,” Yue Zhaolin said. “I’m using the microwave to melt the sugar—there shouldn’t be any oil or smoke.”
The menu provided by the show included microwave instructions for making the syrup: “Two spoons of water, four spoons of sugar, high heat for three minutes.” Simple and easy to follow.
Yue Zhaolin: Confidence.JPG
Cen Chi, wearing gloves, said, “I’ll do the skewering. You get the syrup ready?” The bamboo skewers provided by the crew were short—each one could only hold two strawberries.
Should be pretty quick to put together.
“OK.”
[I came to watch Brother Yue for fun, but their interactions aren’t as dramatic as I imagined. Feels more like coworkers who get along.]
[Brother Yue was interesting in the beginning, now it’s all overanalyzed.]
[Can Yue Zhaolin give the center spot back to Chu Li? Otherwise, what was the point of him getting the initial center?]
[So he got center once and now it’s part of his life résumé? What’s the value of a center spot that Yue Zhaolin blew past in the first round of votes?]
[Chu Li just didn’t have enough fans. He couldn’t stop Yue Zhaolin from taking center even if he wanted to.]
Here we go.
It looked like Chu Li’s fans were protesting how Yue Zhaolin “snatched” the center spot from him. Some of that was genuine, but there were also third parties fanning the flames.
The production team had long anticipated this.
Those third parties thought they were starting drama, but they were actually boosting engagement—for entertainers, any non-principle-related controversy is exposure.
Perfect. And it riled up Chu Li’s fans, too.
A win-win.
“Zz-bang—!”
The microwave suddenly popped with a loud bang.
Yue Zhaolin had been standing close. His shoulder flinched, and he instinctively leaned backward.
[Are you okay, Yue-chan?]
[Fluffy hair alert! Brother Yue’s contrast is undefeated—he was all ‘jiejie’ at the soda festival, but where did that guy go when he dances all sexy now?]
[He was shy during the Soda Festival too, lol. His ears were even redder than now.]
[The popping sound makes sense—it’s the sugar and water mixing, and the sugar bubbles bursting.]
[…Wait, is that smoke?]
[Is that supposed to happen?]
Yue Zhaolin had zero talent when it came to cooking—he was a firm believer in following instructions to the letter. So for the candied hawthorn, he stuck exactly to the recipe.
Three minutes. Not a second less.
Ding—
“I’ll get it.”
The moment he took it out, everyone gathered around for a look—and simultaneously fell silent.
The livestream zoomed in for a close-up.
[Is that… cough syrup?]
[So thick… so dark… and it’s still bubbling]
[Moon has wizard blood. This is a potion brew.]
Yue Zhaolin: “…”
“I’ll try again.”
Such a simple recipe—getting it wrong would be weird. He was convinced the issue was the microwave’s power level, so he lowered it slightly this time.
Round two—
Half the sugar hadn’t even melted.
[Never thought I’d use “half-cooked” to describe a sugar-water mixture…]
[(Thumbs up) That’s improvement.]
[Looks like Yue-chan isn’t great at cooking. That’s a moe point, actually. Kawaii www]
Third attempt: the sugar melted completely, and the syrup turned a pale golden color—visually perfect. But the moment fruit touched it, it stretched into threads over half a meter long. Definitely not right.
Yue Zhaolin: “…”
His confidence evaporated. So did his will to continue.
Fu Xunying could tell he and the syrup had reached a mutual hatred. He gave a quiet laugh, tugged Yue Zhaolin over to a seat. “Sit down. I’ll give it a go.”
Tan Shen stepped out of the frame and returned with a box of extra strawberries. “Want a snack while you wait?”
“Thanks.”
[Does baby like strawberries?]
[Very likely—he was eating strawberries in the airport lounge too.]
[Strawberries in China look so sweet, you don’t even need to add cream.]
[Brother Ying is way too natural.]
[These guys all seem to get along with Yue Zhaolin. I saw something on Weibo about him b*llying teammates—is that fake?]
[Definitely fake.]
[If there really was b*llying, and they can still act this peaceful on camera, then their acting skills are better than a triple-gold movie emperor’s.]
Making sugar syrup takes some real skill. Everyone in the group gave it a try, but none of them managed to get it right.
In the end, it was Cen Chi who saved the day—he used the pot method and successfully made the syrup.
The glossy sugar coating wrapped around fruits and snacks, all neatly arranged on a non-stick board. They looked incredibly tempting. (Except the ones with dried bugs.)
“All done.”
Next, they just had to wait for the sugar coating to cool and harden.
That waiting time didn’t go to waste. The production team had prepared a condensed version of Episode 7 for the trainees to livestream their reactions to—well, not the full episode.
The full cut was two hours long; the highlight reel was ten minutes.
Last Friday had been the Soda Festival, so most of the trending searches were about Yue Zhaolin. Starlight hadn’t gotten much attention, so the show used this livestream to subtly hint—
If you haven’t watched the episode yet, now’s the time.
[TLDR: The first half of Episode 7 is song selection, second half is four vocal group performances. Moon only appeared once on stage, and it was just a silhouette.]
[They chose Crane Bell—I love this instrumental piece. Double fandom win.]
[Ancient costume! Hehe, white hair.]
[Starlight really knows how to tease viewers. They ended his training footage with just a back view—banging my bowl waiting for Episode 8.]
[In the practice segment, he did a sword flourish—it looked clean and cool.]
Seated in the front row in front of the camera, Chu Li saw the last bullet comment and smiled as he said, “It wasn’t just the sword flourish—he practiced everything really well.”
“And he learns super fast. I even started suspecting he’s got some kind of learning-system cheat plugin.” Chu Li’s expression was entirely sincere.
[Whaaat?!]
[…This is over the top. Does Chu Li, a mid-level dancer, really need to hype up Yue Zhaolin like this?]
But to everyone’s surprise, all the trainees present shared the same sentiment.
Fu Xunying said, “He’s a stamina monster.”
As Yue Zhaolin’s roommate, Cen Chi knew he practically lived in the practice room: “Also super disciplined. He won’t sleep until he finishes his basic training every day.”
Tan Shen added, “A clean-eating enthusiast.” The old servant (himself) had tried many times to tempt him with food—never once succeeded.
Mao Ding: “A genius idol. Once Episode 8 airs, people will get it. Same choreography, but Zhaolin always makes it look better.”
Zhu Zhu: “I was in Group A for Crane Bell, and even just walking past Group B’s practice room and taking one glance inside made me so nervous I wanted to throw up.”
Rong Ruize shrugged: “Same. But eventually I came to peace with it… in despair.”
[What is this… a Yue Zhaolin Appreciation Panel?]
[…I’m shook.]
[I don’t get it. Why is everyone hyping him up out of nowhere? If the production team didn’t stage this, I won’t believe it.]
[So all that earlier peace was just Oscar-level acting, huh?]
[Wait… is the Yue Family Courtyard actually real…?]
[Legendary moment]
[Hold up, I’m getting a microexpression analyst on this—what if they’re not faking??]
[That said… I think these trainees genuinely respect Yue Zhaolin—]
Boy groups in China’s entertainment industry rarely have true team spirit.
Within boy groups, teammates are also competitors. Superficial harmony and hidden tensions are common. Plenty of idols run burner accounts just to curse out their own teammates. Naturally, genuine mutual respect is rare.
[This is so weird… Does Yue Zhaolin have some kind of gravitational pull? The moment someone mentions him, this whole group suddenly feels “united.”]
[Don’t they think Yue Zhaolin acts too much like a king?]
[I always knew his stage presence was amazing, but hearing others say “he’s amazing” hits totally different.]
[People admire strength.]
[Kinda starting to get why Yue Zhaolin always dominates in every ship dynamic.]
The bullet comments kept coming, but few of the trainees were reading them—they were focused on rewatching the condensed version of Episode 7. After a few minutes, the video had reached the song selection segment.
Cen Chi chose Indulged, a song that once topped the Korean group music charts.
Fu Xunying immediately said, “Indulged is sexy too, but it’s a different kind of sexy from your Temperature Gap.”
[“Your Temperature Gap.”]
[…Crown Prince Xunying, have you forgotten you performed that song too?]
Yue Zhaolin: “Mm.”
[Here comes another heavyweight “Mm.”]
[Arranged marriage, no love after marriage, broken mirror not rejoined, divorced for real after contract marriage—our “Arranged Marriage” CP is like this. Thanks for putting up with us, everyone.]
[Pfft]
Tan Shen said, “The candied hawthorns should be ready. Want one?”
“Yeah.”
Tan Shen brought over the non-stick tray with the candied hawthorns and let Yue Zhaolin pick first.
Since he’d already had strawberries earlier, Yue Zhaolin picked a red guava skewer. Then… his gaze hovered briefly over the silkworm pupae version.
Curious, but ultimately couldn’t get over the insect shape… He gave up on it.
“Ka-cha—”
[That crunch!]
[Will Yue-chan do ASMR in the future?]
The bullet comments were flashing by too fast—Chu Li didn’t catch the full sentence, only saw the letters “s” and “m,” which startled him into blurting out, “Future what?”
Mao Ding was confused: “What’s up with Wei Lai?” Wasn’t Wei Lai in the livestream room next door?
Realizing he may have misunderstood something, Chu Li fell silent: “……”
It was his own thoughts that had been too indecent.
Yue Zhaolin gave a small cough, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. “Sister, could you go next door and call Wei Lai over? Just say Chu Li needs him for something.”
Chu Li: “…Yeah, I need him. I remember he likes silkworm pupae. I wanted to share some with him.”
Playing along was better than admitting the misunderstanding.
After speaking, Chu Li gave Yue Zhaolin a grateful look.
[Misheard that, lololol]
[Is Wei Lai a person?]
[Yeah, he’s Brother Monkey.]
…
The livestream continued.
Once it ended—aside from enjoying edited cuts shared by prominent fans—Tide had something else on their agenda.
—Previously, some Tide fans had suggested that while voting still allowed for multi-pick, they should vote a few low-risk trainees into the top ranks alongside Yue Zhaolin.
That way, once the debut group was formed, the group would have a lower chance of scandals, and the risk of the drama affecting Yue Zhaolin would be minimized too.
A portion of the fanbase found this strategy viable, so they began testing the waters—the selection plan was now moving from “proposal” to “execution.”
During tonight’s livestream, they noticed Yue Zhaolin seemed on familiar terms with Mao Ding and Wei Lai, and neither of them had ever caused drama.
Mm. They met the criteria.
So—
The test run would begin with Brother Monkey (Wei Lai) and the non-mainstream redhead (Mao Ding, who had consistently kept his hair dyed red).