Trainee Ch.87

Chapter 87: The Third Ranking Announcement (1)

Lai Yudong never expected to have a family VCR, and even less expected that the ones recording it would be Liang Zhisheng and Zhou Rui.

The moment Liang Zhisheng’s face appeared, before he could even register the rush of emotions, his vision turned blurry first, as if the steam from hotpot had drifted across the big screen and clouded his eyes.

Suddenly, he understood how Li Xu had felt when his VCR had been played first.

No mental preparation at all.

This was too much of a cheat—how could they even allow this?

[Crybaby-Yu is crying again qvq]

[707 gaining points big time!]

[Biting into the after-sales service in anger]

[Seven what seven? Didn’t you hear? This is a VCR exclusively for Yuzu, only my baby gets to have a name]

[Is it possible that Mama Liang and Yuzu both belong to Dorm 707, and Zhou Rui is like an unofficial member too?]

[Why don’t you text him to move Yuzu over to the dorm next door then]

[Why wasn’t it Yuzu’s actual family who recorded it?]

[Even Teacher Jin’s was recorded by his students]

[I’m guessing Dad Yu and Mama Yu don’t really surf the internet, they probably still think he’s just in school, lol]

[No way they wouldn’t call even once for such a long time]

[I only call my parents once every few months myself…]

[Don’t pry too much into other people’s family matters, just mind your own]

The barrage of comments started veering off in a strange direction, even showing signs of breaking into arguments over baffling points.

Though many viewers were moved as well, some remarks floating across the screen really disrupted the mood. Lai Yudong simply shut the comments off—he didn’t want to divide his attention with anyone else at this moment.

“A few days ago the two of us even thought about going to your signing event to surprise you, but it was way too popular. We bought a ton of e-magazines, but still couldn’t get drawn for a slot.” Liang Zhisheng shifted his tone, “Ah well, but luck still favored us—we got this chance to send you our blessings.”

“Claiming to be family might sound a little presumptuous, but being friends definitely qualifies, right? Still, whether it’s watching your popularity soar, or seeing you become more and more open, it somehow feels like watching our own kid grow up.”

“I sincerely wish you the very best. May you shine on stage, find joy off stage, and forever sparkle like a brilliant star.”

Lai Yudong laughed while wiping his tears.

He remembered how Liang Zhisheng had nagged him many times to talk more, to socialize more. The first time he had ever taken the initiative to strike up a conversation with Su Junzhe was thanks to Liang Zhisheng, and afterwards he became brighter and more outgoing—or perhaps, rediscovered his true self. But by then, Liang Zhisheng had already been eliminated.

Not having more time to interact with Liang Zhisheng before he left was something he had always regretted.

And an even greater regret was Zhou Rui, who had been eliminated earlier still—he hadn’t even had the chance to tell him his real name.

“Long time no see, Yuki. I guess I’m still more used to calling you that?”

Having solved his hotpot-tripe emergency, Zhou Rui looked a lot more composed than when he had first appeared on screen. Somewhat embarrassed, he rubbed his nose.

“That farewell back then was too much of a mess. There were so many things I wanted to tell you, but before I knew it, I was already on the bus home. I remember sitting there, looking through the window at you shrinking smaller and smaller as you stood outside the dormitory building. It felt like the distance between us was becoming just as unreachable.”

“Even though I’m like a shriveled seed that can’t sprout, seeing you—my once side-by-side companion—break through the soil, bloom, and bear fruit, I don’t know why, but I feel a kind of harvest joy too. —Ah, but it’s not quite the same as Zhisheng’s motherly sentiment. Mine should be more from the perspective of a peer, right?”

“In short, debut on our behalf too! You deserve to step onto an even bigger stage!”

Liang Zhisheng ended with a cheering gesture: “Go for it—charge straight ahead toward the finals!”

The VCR ended.

Lai Yudong wiped at his tears but couldn’t keep up with the speed they were falling. They rolled down in streams like pearls scattering off a broken string, soaking his fingers, dampening his sleeves.

He cried like a little puppy just fished out of the water—pitiful and dripping.

From Lai Yudong’s perspective, they were truly irreplaceable family.

In a world that felt strange, on this fast-moving train bound for the entertainment industry, they had accompanied him, encouraged him, supported him—witnessed and contributed to his growth, without a shred of selfishness.

Only family could go to such lengths.

A gentle pressure landed on his shoulder—it was Xu An, offering silent comfort.

Though just reaching out a hand was something Xu An had probably wrestled with for a long time, he still wanted to give even the tiniest bit of strength in his own way.

What he didn’t realize was that this small gesture gave Lai Yudong immense support, enough to pull him back from being overwhelmed by emotion and return him to reality.

He steadied his feelings a little, just about to say he was fine, when the sound of a bellows puffing filled his ears.

Perplexed, he turned his head—and found the source was Li Xu, his fiery red head buried in his knees, shoulders shaking like a motor as he sobbed.

Lai Yudong: “…”

What now… not playing the aloof tough guy anymore?

Suddenly, he understood Liang Zhisheng’s mindset. The one at the center of it all hadn’t cried that miserably, yet the bystanders were bawling like they were about to run out of breath.

Today, he’d ended up understanding quite a lot of people.

Lai Yudong lifted the armrest between their seats. With a helpless sigh, he pulled the curled-up Li Xu into his arms and patted his back like coaxing a child: “Don’t cry, don’t cry. Xiao Xu is the strongest.”

On any other day, Li Xu would have immediately raised his head to glare at him, most likely snapping back with a “Are you sick or something?” But this time, he stayed motionless, arms wrapped tightly around his head.

A muffled voice came from beneath: “I just thought it was a little noisy.”

“Mm, with your ears sticking out like that, it really would be noisy,” Lai Yudong solemnly exposed the tough act for the lie it was.

“…The noisiest one is you.” Li Xu clenched his fists, but still kept his head buried like an ostrich.

“Alright, alright.” Lai Yudong chuckled through his tears as he comforted the prideful redhead. “Crying won’t hurt you. You’ve already cried so many times anyway, it’s nothing new.”

“When have I ever cried that many times!?”

Face streaked with tears, Li Xu suddenly sprang up, cursing as he lunged at his roommate who wouldn’t stop adding fuel to the fire. His reddened eyes rivaled the color of his hair—it was hard to tell whether they were red from crying or from “bloodlust.”

Lai Yudong, relying on his quick reflexes, blocked left, blocked right, maintaining a perfect defense.

“Don’t dodge!”

“You think I won’t dodge if you’re hitting me?”

“I’m hitting you specifically!”

“You’re b*llying me right under the cameras and won’t even admit it.”

“Stop twisting things around!”

Xu An: “…”

…Was this supposed to be a friendly exchange or attempted murder?

He stared blankly at the two of them wrestling, then finally let his lips curve in relief.

—They both looked genuinely happy.

And that alone was enough.

With that, all the trainees’ family VCRs had finished playing.

…

The third round was drawing to a close.

At this point, whether it was the upper ranks just one step away from debut, the middle ranks stuck between runner-up or breakthrough, or the bottom ranks in extremely dangerous positions—everyone was waiting for their ticket to the finals.

Even if they couldn’t debut, no one could refuse the chance to stand on the stage of their dreams.

This was the true finish line.

Amid the increasingly tense atmosphere came the third ranking announcement.

Thursday evening at six o’clock, the livestream began on time.

[The rankings are going to shift a lot this time, right?]

[Definitely. Between the opening votes, the third group battle center position, the signing event slots, and the e-magazine sales, I’m about to develop split personalities – -]

[That’s exactly why I like it—big shifts, very exciting]

[This round of rankings doesn’t matter much. As long as they make it through, the finals will wipe the votes clean anyway]

[Third ranking doesn’t matter? Guess you’ve never watched a survival show before]

[Back then Mo Li dropped from 3rd to 6th to 10th, the fans got tortured, but he still debuted 4th in the end]

[Wake up, the third ranking is the first push to rally votes. If your fave isn’t even worth pushing for, just wait until finals night when they get carried off the stage]

[Not even sure if my fave can make it to the finals hahaha (going insane)]

Since the number of contestants had decreased, they no longer entered in three groups, only down the center aisle.

Coincidentally, in the previous two rounds Lai Yudong had entered down the center aisle due to the order, and now for the third time he was walking the same path alone toward the waiting seats.

This time, seating was no longer arranged by company but by the third group battle teams. To his left and right were Li Xu and Zhao Yifeng.

In the “Grotesque” group, the most unstable ranking was Lin Xiao at 18th place, followed by Li Xu at 14th.

No one knew what effect the convoluted rules would have on the rankings.

Soon, all thirty-five contestants were seated.

“Long time no see—has everyone been doing well lately?” The host, Fu Hanyu, walked onto the stage with cue cards in hand. His gentle voice did nothing to ease the tension hanging over the trainees. “Unfortunately, it’s time for eliminations again. This round, only eighteen will advance to the finals.”

The rankings were announced starting from seventeenth place.

Right at the start came Qin Xu—the one person whose fate singlehandedly determined Lai Yudong’s. The sole overseas contestant narrowly secured his ticket to finals night.

Sixteenth place: Zhang Mingche.

Lai Yudong rose joyfully to hug his second-round teammate. Hearing the good news that a friend’s rank had risen enough to squeeze into the finals let the heavy weight in his chest ease a little.

He had made many friends during the show, and being able to stand on the finals stage with them was one of his few wishes.

The bus carrying those dreams had just taken on its first passenger.

The second and third passengers boarded in succession—back-to-back members of the “Grotesque” team: Song Yanxi in fourteenth place, Lin Xiao in thirteenth.

More surprising was Qu Junwei, who had been deliberately selling CP nonstop; his rank fell to twelfth. Though his partner Cheng Jinghao also dropped, he placed above him for the first time, reaching tenth place.

Wedged between this ill-fated couple like a third wheel was Jiang Yangfan, whose ranking had plummeted badly.

[Seems like the Qu–Cheng fandoms have been fighting a lot lately]

[With finals so close, of course it’s intense]

[Even if it’s fan-filtering through angst, both of them dropped way too much]

[The blessings of industrial saccharin]

[Qu and Cheng’s CP push feels way too forced. Haven’t even gotten hooked on the pairing, but they’re shoving sugar into netizens’ mouths. You’re just walking down the street, and someone stuffs a spoonful of white sugar in—who’d enjoy that?]

[Very accurate description, lol]

Meanwhile, Li Xu shot Lai Yudong a knowing look.

To others, it looked like Li Xu just glanced over with a blank expression, but Lai Yudong could tell he was showing off—no doubt reminding him of that day’s discussion about the “chosen one” prophecy in the talent show.

Lai Yudong gave the prophet’s knee a couple of pats to show his approval.

Compared to the CP-bait duo, Li Xu’s ranking was the more worrying one.

If his name still wasn’t called soon, he might end up stuck in another nerve-wracking “four-out-of-one” elimination round.

Lai Yudong really didn’t want his heart put through that again.

“Ninth place.”

“This trainee’s first impression is that he’s cool and aloof, but in reality, he’s not quite the same as his looks suggest. Oh, and he’s the rap lead of Team Grotesque.”

A description that matched perfectly.

Lai Yudong instinctively glanced at the red-haired boy beside him, but quickly realized that their teammate Yin Zizhen also fit the bill.

But Yin Zizhen had already taken ninth place last time, and this round his ranking was very likely to rise. If ninth place went to him again, then Li Xu would be in real danger.

The name hadn’t yet been announced, and in his head Lai Yudong kept praying: Li Xu, Li Xu, Li Xu…

“Congratulations, Yin Zizhen.”

Reality doused him with a bucket of cold water. He couldn’t even afford to show the disappointment on his face, since the name announced was still that of a dear little brother who deserved congratulations.

He swapped in a sincere smile and bent down to hug the black-haired boy who had advanced.

“Eighth place.”

“This trainee’s ranking has been on a constant upward climb, each time jumping by a wide margin. Truly a dark horse with strong competitive momentum. This time, he’s carried that surge forward and landed just one step away from a debut spot.”

Lai Yudong’s first thought was Bai Xuanhe—the dark horse impression from the first round had already burned deep into everyone’s minds.

But when he thought back carefully, Bai Xuanhe’s jump from the first to the second round hadn’t actually been that big—the real leap had been from his pre-show rank to the first round.

So it wasn’t impossible that they were deliberately exaggerating things for the sake of the show.

“Congratulations, Li Xu.”

[!? I thought it was Brother Bai]

[Xiao Hong’s making it big]

[Not gonna lie, when Fu Hanyu said “Li Xu,” I froze for a few seconds before realizing he meant our Brother Hong…]

[It’s kinda magical how Li Hong’s rank is always hovering right around the cutoff line for advancement]

[Yeah, and remember his group stage scores? He scraped by on the line twice in a row]

[Li Hong’s got some mysterious energy about him]

Lai Yudong was both shocked and delighted. He whipped his head around and locked eyes with the utterly flustered Li Xu.

The two of them launched into a frantic round of eye-contact dialogue.

Lai Yudong: “You…”

Did you know in advance?

Li Xu: “I…”

Of course not!

Lai Yudong: “But you…”

Don’t you have your phone?

Li Xu: “But I…”

I was too afraid it’d mess with my mindset to look!

The last sentence was a bit too cryptic—Lai Yudong failed to decode it. But since the rank was already announced, there was no need for them to keep up the silent guessing game.

Smiling, he pulled his dazed roommate up from his seat. “Congratulations—you’re getting closer and closer to a debut spot.”

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