Chapter 65: The Third Performance (1)
The demo being played included a song segment and a practice-room dance segment, and the Starseekers voted based on these clips.
The first song was “Brownie”, a classic sweet love song. It expressed the blissful moments of mutual affection with a crush. Paired with Funky Style choreography, the rhythm was strong, vibrant, and full of energy.
As soon as the music started, Lai Yudong heard Bai Xuanhe behind him declare confidently:
“This has got to be Xiao Su’s song!”
[That’s right, our fandom voted for this one.]
[Su Junzhe should have this locked in, right? His fandom was one of the first to decide. Other groups didn’t dare pick this one.]
[The other groups are aiming for different songs.]
[There aren’t any in the upper ranks with this style anyway, so it definitely wouldn’t be the first choice.]
The second song was “Moonlight”, leaning toward R&B style, themed around secret meetings between lovers whose relationship faced opposition.
The third song was “A Disappeared Love Letter”, a modern pop track, depicting the story of a one-sided crush that quietly faded without result.
After three love-themed tracks in a row, the fourth one finally switched topics: a Future EDM piece titled “Nobody”. It expressed the growth and transformation of an ordinary person rising from obscurity to standing out.
This was currently Lai Yudong’s favorite.
Both in style and theme, “Nobody” matched him best. But he had no way of knowing which song the Starseekers had voted for him. If he missed out on the center position, his first priority would be to choose the song that fans most wanted to see him perform.
Unfortunately, Li Xu was as tight-lipped as a spoiler-proof system, under the pretense of “enjoying the unknown.”
The final song was “Grotesque.”
Judging by the title, it also had nothing to do with love, and was classified as Mainstream Pop.
The written introduction described a bizarre and grotesque town where people turned a blind eye to “rules,” paired with a carefree, unrestrained attitude. It perfectly blended the eerie story background with the protagonist’s recklessness in defying danger and breaking free from restraints, carrying with it an overwhelming aura of trampling the world beneath one’s feet, like an evil [censored] gang.
The so-called Grotesque referred not only to the strange town, but also to the protagonist himself.
To put it in simpler terms—it was basically a “madman version of Li Xu breaking into an infinite flow setting.”
The moment the demo started playing, the trainees broke out into a wave of awed exclamations. It was clear this was the most popular of all the songs, yet its difficulty was utterly daunting.
[This song is so obviously center material.]
[Wow, I love this! But it feels insanely difficult?]
[You rarely see this kind of theme in survival shows.]
[Like some dark underworld gang collecting protection fees (?)]
[It has a kind of dark, psychedelic vibe.]
Lai Yudong quietly asked Xu An, the walking encyclopedia: “What’s Mainstream Pop?”
“Just mainstream pop music.” Xu An tilted his head. “You planning to pick this one?”
“No.”
Although Grotesque was exactly the kind of genre Lai Yudong usually liked to listen to—his tastes and the song’s vibe aligned perfectly—liking it was one thing; he absolutely did not want to perform it himself.
The difficulty level was simply too high, far beyond Peppermint from the first performance.
Still, it was worth celebrating: he could finally tell the difficulty level just from the demo.
Aside from that, the style itself posed another challenge—at least for Lai Yudong.
Put nicely, it was about being effortlessly cool; put harshly, it was about putting on airs. But you couldn’t achieve the right effect just by being cold or cocky without substance. It required a rebellious disdain for rules, a vibe even more villainous than Grotesque itself.
Unfortunately, Lai Yudong was, in most cases, a rule-abiding model student and upright citizen.
He couldn’t imagine himself playing the role of a villain.
“The center positions for the five songs have already been decided by the Starseekers’ votes. Now, we’ll announce the corresponding centers for each track.” Fu Hanyu revealed them one by one in the order the demos had been played.
“Brownie — the center is Su Junzhe.”
An almost unsurprising result.
“Moonlight — the center is Xu An.”
While clapping, Lai Yudong watched Xu An walk up to the song board. He had thought Xu An would be the center for A Disappeared Love Letter, but it turned out to be this one instead.
Fans’ choices were unpredictable.
“A Disappeared Love Letter — the center is Qu Junwei.”
[Wait, it’s Qu?]
[This song mainly had Qu Junwei’s and Cheng Jinghao’s fans voting.]
[Oh god, isn’t this going to get ugly? What about the CP fans? Is this the start of fan wars and “purification”?]
[Don’t you guys follow the decisions from each fan club?]
[Not everyone pays attention to fan circles…]
From that moment, things started looking bad.
It wasn’t that Lai Yudong had a problem with Qu Junwei, but Qu’s rank was eighth, and with only five songs available, that meant at least one of the top five had already been bumped off due to competition.
Sure enough, the chance of a smooth arrangement with centers matching rank order was slim.
“Nobody — the center is Qu Xincheng.”
Even more surprising — he was ranked sixth.
[Xiao Qu is moving up!]
[Two in a row who aren’t in the top five, this is wild.]
[Is Stardom rigging the center spots?]
[No way. The only fandom competing with Qu’s for this song was Yin’s.]
[Talk about insane luck.]
[If you’re not watching the public group stages, that’s your loss. Honestly, the past few days have been amazing.]
From the center selections alone, Lai Yudong could already sense the “excitement.”
Brownie was essentially monopolized by Su Junzhe, while A Disappeared Love Letter and Nobody ended up as lucky grabs. That meant the competition over Moonlight and Grotesque was bound to be a brutal battlefield.
Among the top five, the ones still unassigned were Mo Li, Jiang Yangfan, and himself.
Well, wasn’t this clearly going to be Mo Li’s?
Unless Li Si had fought for Brownie and lost—but judging by the barrage comments, that obviously wasn’t the case. Besides, his style didn’t suit that song anyway.
Lai Yudong had already accepted that the center spot wasn’t his. Luckily, he didn’t want to join the Grotesque team anyway. He’d just go with Nobody later—thanks to priority in song selection, he had the freedom to choose.
“Hello.”
Someone poked him. Lai Yudong turned around in confusion to see Song Yanxi sitting directly behind him.
“Can I ask which group you’re planning to pick later?”
“Me?” Lai Yudong blinked.
The sudden friendliness left him puzzled. His only interactions with Song Yanxi so far had been brief greetings in passing—nothing deeper. Which was why the first thing that flashed through his mind was Li Xu’s warning about being careful not to get dragged into forced fanservice CP.
But he quickly ruled out that possibility.
First, because Song Yanxi was closer to Qu Xincheng. Second, because Lai Yudong was good at reading people and saw no ill intentions in him. Third, because he vaguely remembered that Song Yanxi seemed to be a face-con (someone who cared most about looks).
Maybe he was just asking casually, using it as reference for his own song choice.
“We haven’t worked together yet, right?” Song Yanxi smiled warmly. “So I wanted to hear your choice—see if there’s a chance we could collect a stamp together.”
[Sorry, Brother Xi embarrassed himself again.]
[Come on, bro, are you here for a survival show or just to stick close to handsome guys? 😂]
[He’s not debuting anyway, so what’s wrong with wanting to team up with good-looking people?]
[Being in the same group as handsome guys helps keep your mood up.]
Lai Yudong was stunned by such a peculiar reason for teaming up. But recalling this person’s history of choosing his first-performance group based purely on looks… well, maybe it wasn’t so strange after all.
He answered, “Nobody.”
[Yan-and-Yuzu is about to gain points?]
[Nooo, I wanted to see Yuzu go to Grotesque 😭]
[Spare Miura, please. Anyone smart would avoid gambling on a double-edged-sword track like that—especially since his total training time is about the same as the show’s recording period.]
[Nobody actually suits Yuzu quite well.]
“I thought you’d pick Grotesque.” Song Yanxi, drawing on his fashion blogger instincts, analyzed from a looks-based perspective:
“Your facial features suit aggressive styles really well. A slightly crazed villain role would have an amazing effect. Like with Bloody in the second performance—you showed two contrasting styles, and it came across really well.”
With a strong will to survive, he quickly added:
“Not that I’m saying you should pick Grotesque. I’m just speaking casually. Nobody also matches you a lot.”
“Grotesque is actually my favorite song,” Lai Yudong explained awkwardly. “But it’s way too hard—the singing is difficult, the dance is hard too, and I probably can’t pull off the style. So…”
“—Grotesque, the center is Miura Yuki.”
Lai Yudong: “?”
…Huh?
He’s the center??
Why did things once again turn out completely different from what he expected?
Why did it feel like he was constantly getting slapped in the face? It made him look like he didn’t trust anyone—when in reality, he was just making logical deductions!
[What the heck??]
[The Yuzu fans actually voted him up to center??]
[Surprised, darling? Hahahaha!]
[Oh my god, I’m crying… we really did it…]
[I thought we were doomed this time, but—??]
[Yuzu fans are amazing! We finally got our boy a real center position!]
[Reporting in, Mom already voted for Grotesque. Just go for it boldly. /shy fingers]
[I barely closed my eyes while voting nonstop for five days! The moment I remembered Dong-baby saying, “I can’t be center,” I just had to vote him into the center spot!]
[Mo Li’s in second place and still didn’t get a single center? How’s that even reasonable?]
[Wtf! Even if Fu Hanyu himself showed up, the center of Grotesque would still belong to our Yuzu baby!!]
Lai Yudong: …
Alright then, looks like even the fans hadn’t expected this outcome.
Since the program hadn’t announced the center list in advance, both the fans and Lai Yudong were equally shocked.
The difference was—the fans were leaning toward excitement and exhilaration, while he was stuck in a dazed stupor.
Wait, him as the center?
Then what was going on with Mo Li? Which group had his fandom failed to compete for?
In a daze, Lai Yudong walked up on stage and took his place in front of the signboard for his assigned track. Even at that moment, he still found the result hard to believe.
He glanced at the song title on the board with complicated feelings.
Forget it. It didn’t matter—if the fans liked it, that was enough.
Hard was hard; at worst, he’d just practice more. After all, ever since joining the survival show, every single thing he’d done had been breaking through his limits. Raising the difficulty again for the third performance didn’t matter—he was already used to it.
“The five center positions have now all been revealed. Next, we’ll proceed with group selection in rank order.” Fu Hanyu excluded the trainees who had already been chosen as centers. “Mo Li, please make your choice.”
Unlike the second performance, the third round’s group selection was open and transparent—everyone could see the groupings as they formed.
Thus, the selection principle depended on two main factors: the song itself and the teammates. The latter could be broken down further into CP pairings, friends, and popularity.
If the top favorites banded together, the group’s first place would be essentially locked in from the start. This time, the voting method didn’t split votes—it was purely based on the number of solo stans present at the live show.
Mo Li headed straight for Nobody.
[Perfect. A clash between the crown prince and the direct heir.]
[Why are there so many princes?]
[Is this Climbing to Stardom or a feudal dynasty?]
[Because after debut he’ll be managed by Mo Li’s company, so he’s the “direct heir.”]
You had to admire netizens’ talent for nicknaming.
“Next up, Jiang Yangfan.”
…
“Zhao Yifeng.”
…
“Yin Zizhen.”
…
Three people in a row walked toward Grotesque.
“Our group’s really in demand, huh.” Zhao Yifeng shoved his hands into his pockets as he slid over next to Lai Yudong, looking like an old grandpa watching a chess game in the park. “Won’t it be full pretty soon?”
As soon as he finished speaking, the twelfth-ranked Song Yanxi came over.
“Was Grotesque what you wanted to pick from the start?” Lai Yudong continued their earlier unfinished conversation.
“Ah, Grotesque and Nobody were both on my list.” Song Yanxi rubbed his nose. “But once I saw you in this group, I came here. After all, I’d already teamed up with Qu Xincheng back in the first performance.”
[Brother Xi reminds me of a dog that runs over the moment you scatter sausages all over the ground.]
[Scatter a trail of Yuzu slices (??)]
[And at the end put down a whole Yuzu fruit, hahaha.]
[Sorry, I can totally picture this in my head now.]
The next to join was fourteenth-ranked Li Xu.
“Why is it that every time I move up in ranking, I still end up just barely making it in?” Li Xu muttered.
He scanned the group, his gaze pausing on Yin Zizhen. A sense of crisis from having a competitor in the same position surged up at once.
The last one was eighteenth-ranked Lin Xiao. He and Zhao Yifeng locked eyes, sharing a wordless moment.
With that, the Grotesque team was the first to reach full capacity.
