Chapter 89: Pre-made Dish
Will an idol ever fall on stage?
Yes.
And in most cases—no, in fact, in all cases—it’s an accident.
But what if you turned that accident into part of the choreography? Fall backward, but instead of striking a pose, flow naturally into the next move, performing a “perfect fall.”
Wouldn’t that give the audience an unexpected contrast?
And if the music happened to hit a silent break right as he “fell,” the impact would be even stronger.
Yue Zhaolin thought about it for a moment. That idea… actually wasn’t bad.
But for the follow-up after the fall, the only thing he could think of for now was some floorwork from street dance, which would fit well as a transition.
There was no need to rush it. He steadied himself and started with vocal practice first.
—Because once you have an idea, it’s like sketching out a rough framework; filling it in afterward is much easier than starting from nothing.
Not far away, Mao Ding, wearing headphones, had actually already mastered his part.
He was the third main rapper. His lines were only three repetitions of “never let you go.” The tone was light, the melody wasn’t hard, and after singing it twice he’d memorized it.
But he didn’t stop, knowing the production team loved to edit maliciously—he couldn’t hand them a weakness to use.
So while Yue Zhaolin practiced his rap verse, putting on his own headphones, Mao Ding’s soft “never let you go” looped in the background.
Yue Zhaolin hadn’t asked Tan Shen for help right away because, to him, learning rap felt a bit like solving a math problem.
First, memorize the lyrics. Then, try singing along with the music in his headphones. Then, record himself to pinpoint mistakes. Above all, he had to figure out exactly where his problems were.
If he had asked for help right from the start, it would have been like doing a test without even reading the problem statement, not knowing what the question was asking, and just flipping to the back to look up the answer key.
It wouldn’t mean much.
Behind the cameras, the staff couldn’t help sighing in their hearts—Yue Zhaolin and Zhu Zhu were both the company’s main pushes, yet they couldn’t be more different.
Someone like Zhu Zhu was actually very common in the industry. A “nine-leak fish” type, plagued with scandals, not the brightest, but with a decent face—and still, the company insisted on pushing him.
On one hand, the company didn’t consider b*llying to be a serious scandal. After all, plenty of people in the circle had been exposed for it, yet they were still thriving.
On the other hand, the “scandal → whitewashing” cycle was a form of fan-conditioning. And the diehard fans who stayed behind would, in turn, brainwash the new ones.
Stars had come to accept this model by default—and even enjoyed it.
As long as one breakout role landed, all past baggage could be erased in one stroke, relegated to history.
·
But this time, before the role could even blow up, the trending topic soaring straight to the top would come first.
·
Chu Li happened to run into Yue Zhaolin on his way back and greeted him with a smile.
Perhaps to Zhu Zhu, Chu Li looked like he was currying favor everywhere. But from Chu Li’s perspective, it was all for himself.
After all, if you wanted to make money in this circle, you couldn’t just sit around waiting for someone to spoon-feed you. If you could manage relationships with just a few words, why wouldn’t you?
That was why, in the six months since debut, Chu Li never skipped group activities—because with Yue Zhaolin present, exposure was guaranteed. The benefits of tagging along far outweighed the drawbacks.
Besides, if he had jumped straight into filming right after debut, in the eyes of the show’s fans, he’d look no different from an ungrateful white-eyed wolf.
A buffer period was just right.
Chu Li didn’t bring up Zhu Zhu directly. Instead, he joked, “That pre-made dish I just cooked up will probably be on the hot search tonight.”
He’d played along with the higher-ups’ arrangements and had a talk with Zhu Zhu.
The production team had even chosen a spot with a wide-open view for them—already captured from a paparazzi-style angle.
Once the video was released and allowed to ferment step by step, the new persona would be firmly established.
Just like he said—pre-made dishes.
Chu Li put it that way because hearing it directly from him carried a different weight for Yue Zhaolin than if the news had simply reached him through other channels.
But Chu Li felt no guilt toward Zhu Zhu. If you wanted to rise above the rest, stepping on others to climb higher was the fastest—and most effective—way.
Yue Zhaolin raised his brows.
He more or less guessed what Zhu Zhu’s future would look like, while at the same time finding Chu Li rather interesting.
Because Chu Li knew exactly what he was doing and wasn’t wishy-washy about it. Dealing with people like that took little effort.
And Chu Li wasn’t bringing this up to invite an answer from Yue Zhaolin, either. He quickly switched topics:
“By the way, is your rap hard to practice? I’m really curious.”
After all, this was Yue Zhaolin’s first time rapping.
“It’s fine.” Yue Zhaolin nodded and hummed a few lines for Chu Li to hear.
The good thing about melodic rap was that it had a tune—you wouldn’t end up delivering the whole verse in a flat monotone from start to finish. Enunciation could ride the pitch, making it less stiff.
Chu Li nodded repeatedly. “Brother, not saying this just to hype you up, but your part’s solid. Though with some words, how should I put it…?”
“Stress patterns?”
“Yes, exactly!”
That was what Yue Zhaolin needed to work on. For example, in the word tiaopei (调配, “blend/adjust”), the t sound should be light, but the p should be even lighter.
Tan Shen had given him guidance, but at the end of the day, it was Yue Zhaolin’s own mouth doing the work. So his recorder was filled with take after take of “tiaopei,” “chenzui” (沉醉, “intoxicated”), and “peidui” (配对, “pair/match”).
…
Back in the practice room.
Break time wasn’t even over yet, but Chen Wu, already starving, was sitting in a corner zoning out.
“Brother Chen, got a minute?”
Hearing someone call him, Chen Wu’s eyes didn’t move at first—his mouth did: “Yeah, I’m free. If you need something, just say it.”
When he finally came back to himself, he realized it was Yue Zhaolin.
Yue Zhaolin remembered the move he’d been stuck on earlier, so he took the chance to ask Chen Wu.
He leaned back a little, demonstrating: “Brother Chen, for this kind of move where you push off the ground with one hand and rise up again—is there a cooler way to do it?”
Chen Wu: “There is. But…” He cleared his throat, glanced around, and lowered his voice. “You want to use that move in a solo performance, right?”
“Yeah.”
Chen Wu: “Tch, then just keep it simple—turn it into a one-handed backflip. But don’t take this the wrong way, I’m not saying you can’t handle harder stuff.”
He knew Yue Zhaolin’s ability to learn—even the tougher moves, he could pick up.
But this time was different. “You’ll be wearing short sleeves. Do a back handspring, and halfway through your shirt rides up—your abs flash for a second.”
“Girls eat that stuff up.”
Chen Wu spoke with the tone of someone experienced: “When I did a roadshow before, I deliberately added a handstand move. The moment I heard the screams, I knew—the audience definitely felt it was worth coming.”
Yue Zhaolin: “……”
He’d forgotten how straightforward Chen Wu could be. Back during practice for the third public stage, Chen Wu had directly guided him hands-on, letting him feel where the body’s strength should be applied.
“…Got it, I understand what you mean. Thanks, Brother Chen, go ahead and rest.”
Later, he’d explain the idea to the company—leave the professional details to the professionals.
Just as he was thinking this, Fu Xunying sat down beside him. “Isn’t it suits for finale night? Someone will be coming over soon to take our group’s measurements.”
“Got it.”
Fu Xunying: “Can’t you eat a little more?”
“?”
Ever since Yue Zhaolin signed that contract, he’d been a lot busier.
Fu Xunying clicked his tongue. He couldn’t shake the feeling that compared to the initial evaluation, Yue Zhaolin’s jawline now looked sharper, and his collarbones more pronounced.
Yue Zhaolin: “I eat a lot.”
He used to diet, but lately he hadn’t—otherwise there was no way he could keep up with the daily energy burn.
Knock, knock. A staff member rapped on the door, eyes landing on Yue Zhaolin.
“Zhaolin, you three come with me first—we need to take your measurements.”
“Alright.”
…
“Raise your arm. Yes, like that.”
The one measuring Yue Zhaolin’s sizes was Xingqiong’s own stylist, while an assistant stood nearby with a form, jotting down numbers.
Stylist: “You’ve really lost a lot of weight.”
Luckily, Yue Zhaolin had won the genetic lottery—otherwise, even a suit would hang loose on him.
A lot of male idols who diet end up losing their shoulder width too, turning into big-headed weaklings.
Yue Zhaolin straightened his back to make it easier: “I lost three jin. Is that alright?”
“Three jin of solid flesh, not just water weight—that’s quite a lot. Any thinner, and we’ll have to swap you to a smaller size shirt garter.”
Shirt garter?
He’d worn a dress shirt for the initial evaluation too, but hadn’t used anything like that.
Stylist: “It’s a tool to keep your shirt in place. Similar to a leg garter, except it has extra straps with clips.”
First you put the elastic band—like the leg ring—around your thigh. Then you clip the shirt hem to it, keeping the shirt fixed in place.
That way, no matter how big your movements are, the shirt won’t ride up.
“As for the initial evaluation, the styling was meant to be casual and relaxed, so there was no need for it. This time it’s strict, restrained formalwear—we have to prepare the full set properly.”
“I see.”
Yue Zhaolin nodded in understanding. “But… won’t the outline show?”
With fitted dress pants, once he moved, the shirt garter would definitely be noticeable.
The stylist kept a perfectly serious face, tone calm as still water: “Yes. As long as your fans haven’t completely fallen out of love, they’ll definitely think of the same thing you just did.”
The more serious it sounded, the dirtier it came across.
“……”
…Mm. Yeah.
———
[Goose Gossip Group丨Breaking: Zhihu Bro is trending on Weibo]
———
[Main Post]
RT.
[5F] I thought it was about Emperor Yue, went running to Weibo all excited… To save you the trouble: it’s Chu Li and Zhu Zhu, those two got into it.
[9F] Instantly lost all interest.
[11F] A lip-reading blogger on my homepage says this drama’s actually kind of juicy—worth following.
[14F] Zhihu Bro even called out Chu Li in one of his past answers, said he was slick and calculating (don’t remember the exact words). Chu Li couldn’t hold back this time and jumped in to argue.
They went back and forth a few times, but the highlight was one line—
Zhihu Bro’s defense shattered: “Do you think you’re Yue Zhaolin? Why should I apologize to you?”
[21F] No way?! Hahaha.
[25F] Zhihu Bro just gifted us the Dumbest Quote of the Year.
[31F] Wait, so the subtext here is… he’d only apologize to Yue Zhaolin?
[35F] Lmao why is this so funny, are we sure it’s not scripted?
[39F] This counts as solid evidence, right? I’ve seen plenty of boy group trainees, but hiding behind a screen pretending to be some “insider anti-fan from the same batch”—that’s just gross.
[45F] Such cheap tricks.
(Not that I’m saying other boy group palace-intrigue tactics are much classier—just to be clear.)
[51F] Pretty low. Both the guy and his methods.
[55F] What exactly did Yue Zhaolin ever do to him? In all the public performances, those two were never even in the same group.
Unsolved mystery.
[59F] I’ve got the right to speak on this. Some people will dislike you for the most random reasons and deliberately trip you up.
My old company was full of people like that.
[63F] The main issue is Zhihu Bro’s just dumb. He didn’t even bother going anonymous.
[69F] Never suffered, never been smacked around by society, no life experience—just another puppet of capital with an idle brain. Honestly, he seems more like an animal.
Does capital always pick these empty-headed types because they’re easier to control?
[73] I once saw someone comment on why both C-ent and K-ent idols keep dating—and sometimes it’s two people who’ve barely met publicly.
“A bunch of young men and women with low education but good looks—what else do you think they’ll do when put together?”
[78F] Back in the day, that would’ve been seen as idol misconduct, and they’d at least apologize. Now it’s just about whose girlfriend looks prettier.
[83F] Can’t hold it together anymore.
[89F] So… did Zhihu Bro apologize or not?
[92F] Of course not.
[101F] Zhihu Bro’s stubborn as hell.
Speaking of which, the hashtag Tide started—#ZhuZhuApologizeToYueZhaolin#—already passed a hundred million views, but it still never even brushed the edge of the hot search.
[112F] Obviously someone’s suppressing it.
[127F] Suppressing the heat? ✗
Stirring up conflict? ✓
The bigger the fandom, the less likely they’ll just let it slide. Otherwise it’s too suffocating. This round only ended up strengthening Emperor Yue’s fandom unity even more.
[131F] Mainly it’s about not letting Tide rest. I even suspect it’s Xingqiong doing the suppressing (?).
[138F] The survival show’s Super Topic is pure chaos—various gossip accounts dropping “real leaks” and “fake leaks,” speculating the debut lineup, fans multitasking between stanning and eating melons, it’s a mess. Meanwhile Tide stands tall and unmoved—
on one hand making a full-on PPT of Zhihu Bro’s b*llying history, on the other still charging the trending list.
[142F] The outside drama almost feels like it’s from another world compared to Tide.
In their eyes, there’s zero curiosity about Chu Li and Zhihu Bro’s spat—only the pure desire to crush Zhihu Bro so thoroughly he’ll never stand up again.
[148F] I’ve said it ten thousand times: please give me a fandom like this—protective to a fault, whales who spend big, totally focused on their own idol, and full of rabid solo stans.
**TN
Nine-leak fish – one who escaped the (a fish who escaped the net of) nine-year compulsory education; uneducated, lacks common sense
Zhihu – the website where Zhu Zhu posted his comments about Yue and others