Chapter 98: Finals (9)
“The rankings of the trainees in the previous round’s danger zone are currently unknown. Starseekers, please cast your precious votes for the trainees you support — this will determine whether they can successfully debut.”
The vote-pushing segment was announced, followed immediately by an open and shameless round of money-grabbing speeches — even throwing in a casual mention of the last round for good measure.
Although everyone knew that reading out the sponsor’s script was Fu Hanyu’s job, hearing his voice still made people’s blood pressure spike.
The barrage of comments raged at Dog Sky a thousand times over.
“Before we officially announce the rankings, there will be a short VCR from the trainees. All voting will close the moment the VCR finishes playing.”
“Next, please look at the big screen.”
The VCR began to play, accompanied by a piano version of the theme song.
One by one, trainees with plain or even bare faces stepped into a small room — there was Su Junzhe with his still-straight hair that hadn’t yet been permed into curls, Zhao Yifeng with hair too short to tie up, and Li Xu with a head of gray-dyed hair.
Each trainee introduced themselves to the camera.
Some were nervous and stiff, unsure what to do with their hands and feet, stammering as they spoke — like Qu Xincheng and Xu An.
Ironically, the calmest of them all was the youngest, Yin Zizhen, who sat upright with both hands on his knees, as obedient as if he were sitting in a classroom.
This was footage from their interviews months ago.
[Su Su’s straight hair gives such a youthful vibe]
[Teacher Zhao, you can’t lose your little braid, 5555]
[Li Hong’s past life: Li Hui]
[I can’t even recognize half of them hahaha]
[Where’s Yuzu?]
[He didn’t need to go through interviews, lol]
[Yuzu’s waiting to be picked up at KFC (not really)]
A staff member’s voice sounded: “Why did you decide to participate in Climbing to Stardom?”
“Because it’s my dream.” Su Junzhe’s tone carried a smile, but his eyes were filled with unwavering determination. “I started learning dance when I was twelve, went to Korea alone at fourteen to become a trainee. My family thought this career had no future, so I’ve faced a lot of obstacles along the way. But no matter what, I finally got the opportunity I’ve been dreaming of.”
“It’s not necessarily about Climbing to Stardom,” Zhao Yifeng said bluntly, too straightforward to bother hiding anything. “It’s just that this show came at the exact time I needed it most, so I signed up. I want to stand on a bigger stage and fulfill the promise I made with my fans — and Climbing to Stardom happens to be the biggest stage among all shows this season.”
“My web dramas never really took off, and I never had the chance to showcase my rap skills, which I’m actually good at. I started doubting everything I’d done so far,” Yu Yizhen said, taking a deep breath. “I think it’s time to make a change.”
“I failed to debut in the last survival show — even though I was this close.” Qu Junwei paused. “So this time, I’m betting everything I have.”
Mo Li: “To start over and leave no regrets.”
Bai Xuanhe: “I want to be seen.”
Xu An: “I want people to hear my songs.”
Zhang Mingche: “To go all out and chase dreams with my friends.”
Yin Zizhen: “It makes me really happy to rap on stage.”
…
The scene shifted — the background changed from the interview room to the post-recording studio.
A boy with light blond hair sat in a chair wearing his trainee uniform. He blinked, hesitating. “Uh… I think you guys called me here?”
The room instantly burst into knowing laughter.
“But since you were invited, you could’ve refused. What made you decide to accept and join Climbing to Stardom?”
Lai Yudong thought for a moment. “Probably a moment of madness. Looking back now, I also find it pretty unbelievable.”
Staff member: “……”
[I was just getting emotional, what’s wrong with you hahaha]
[Honesty is his ultimate weapon.jpg]
[Suddenly understand why they saved Yuzu for last]
[Not gonna lie, it does sound like a moment of madness kkk]
[Was this filmed later?]
[Obviously—otherwise the background would be a KFC shop]
The staff continued asking, “If you were given another chance to choose again, would you still participate in Climbing to Stardom?”
“If it were the old me, I’d probably be torn between telling the truth or trying to fudge my way through it.” Lai Yudong’s eyes curved into a smile, his dark pupils glimmering like starlight. “But now, I can say clearly — I definitely would.”
“Even though I often feel a lot of pressure, I don’t reject that feeling. In fact, it’s because of that pressure that this experience feels so precious.”
“‘Bitterness leads to sweetness’ — hmm, that doesn’t sound quite right. More accurately, it’s like brewing wine.”
[Yuzu wine, I’ll chug it!]
[Good thing you joined]
[Which era of Yuzu is this?]
[Cheerful and sunny Yuzu — must be from the third performance or the finals]
Scenes from the theme song and stage performance practices played in turn, capturing the sweat and effort the trainees had poured in over these past months.
Sometimes it was Jin Xiheng leading a group in dance practice, sometimes Xu An sitting alone in a classroom playing the piano, sometimes Yin Zizhen lying on the floor, focused on writing rap lyrics.
The narration over the footage came from the trainees themselves.
“If I fail this time, there probably won’t be another chance. This was an opportunity I fought hard to win from my company. So when I first heard my name in the rankings, it was the happiest moment I’ve had in years — so happy that I was scared I’d wake up and find myself still lying alone in a Korean practice room,” said Su Junzhe.
“The only thing I worry about is not living up to expectations — that I’ll feel defeated, and that the Starseekers will be disappointed in me. I’m afraid that my efforts won’t be enough to deserve the love I’ve received. The only way to ease that anxiety is to keep practicing, over and over again,” said Lai Yudong.
“I know a lot of people laugh at me for being a ‘returnee,’ but the stage dream that was cut short, the team that fell apart, the promises left unfulfilled, the fans who never got a reply… none of it should have ended in regret. So go ahead — laugh, mock me — it only makes me more determined,” said Mo Li.
“To be honest, before joining this show, my idea of what an idol was supposed to be was really vague, because I spent almost all of the past decade in dance studios…”
“I want an audience. I want to be someone who shines under the spotlight…”
One by one, the trainees opened up about their feelings.
The practice footage came to a stop.
The camera focused on the boy with light blond hair. He rubbed his eyes as he stepped out of the practice room, gently closing the door behind him.
Outside, the first light of dawn began to bloom — the horizon glowing pale white.
Another night of practice had carried him all the way to morning.
Out of habit, he cast a casual glance toward the window, then picked up his thick winter coat and walked toward the end of the hallway.
His figure slowly faded from view.
[I’m crying my eyes out]
[This scene with Yuzu hits so hard]
[It’s the end of practice, but also the start of a new day]
[That jacket Yuzu’s wearing — it’s from the night before he went to the hospital with a fever]
[Girl, are you Leeuwenhoek or something?]
The screen faded to black — the VCR had ended.
The stage lights came on, pulling the audience out of the warm, sentimental mood and back into the tense atmosphere of the live broadcast.
Eighteen trainees, once again dressed in their uniforms, stood at the center of the stage.
“This is the live finale of Climbing to Stardom. The final seven debut members have been decided.”
“Now, I will announce the official debut lineup,” said Fu Hanyu as he followed the cue card. “The trainee debuting in seventh place — the ‘card position’ — will be revealed after we announce ranks six through one.”
[They’re playing the heart-attack game again]
[Got my anti-arrhythmia meds ready]
[Help, even though I know my fave will debut, I’m still sweating bullets]
[Can’t relate — my fave’s already been eliminated]
[May the confetti god bless Yuzu with a high debut rank!]
Lai Yudong clenched his fists, his heartbeat racing so fast it felt like it would burst through his chest at any moment.
This was the most nervous he’d been since joining the show.
He estimated his own ranking to be around fifth place, give or take one.
Which meant there was a high chance his name would be the first to be called.
“Sixth place.”
“This trainee rose sharply in popularity before the finale, climbing all the way into debut position. In the Vendela stage, he showcased a completely new side of himself.”
Here we go again.
The “sounds like it could be anyone” part of the show.
Holding on to what little calm he had left, Lai Yudong analyzed the words carefully — the second line didn’t quite match him. He had soared straight into debut rank in one jump, whereas this description fit someone who had climbed up gradually.
[Vendela…]
Who was even in that group again?
God, his brain completely blanked out.
“Congratulations, Bai Xuanhe.”
Bai Xuanhe’s face appeared on the screen, along with his ranking chart showing his progress since the pre-final popularity polls: 27 → 14 → 10 → 5 → 6.
[Congrats to Brother Bai for being the first to end his penalty stand!]
[Pretty much what I predicted]
[Proof that the vote-pushing slot really works]
[Xuanhe’s rank curve is so strong—steady climb all the way]
Bai Xuanhe clutched his chest and let out a long breath of relief—then, in the next second, Jin Xiheng came running from behind and pulled him into a tight hug.
It wasn’t until Bai Xuanhe joked, “Hey, there are others waiting in line to hug me,” that Jin Xiheng finally let go, pretending to act disgusted.
Lai Yudong watched the whole thing with a smile before stepping forward to give Bai Xuanhe a hug as well.
No matter who made it into the final lineup, he was genuinely happy for them.
Bai Xuanhe murmured quietly, “I’ll be waiting for you on the other side—make sure you come.”
“Okay.”
With the blessings of his friends, Bai Xuanhe walked to the podium and stumbled his way through his debut speech—half of it recounting his journey from a breaking dancer to an idol, and the other half addressed to the close friends who wouldn’t be debuting with him.
Jin Xiheng laughed through tears.
Finally, Bai Xuanhe climbed the stairs and took his seat on the golden pyramid, the symbol of dreams and glory, as the sixth-place debut member.
Next up was another rank Lai Yudong cared deeply about.
“Fifth place.”
“This trainee first drew attention for his outstanding visuals. Throughout the show, he achieved a transformation of self. He also served as the vocal position in the Vendela stage.”
Lai Yudong thought to himself — Okay, this one really does sound like me.
All three conditions matched — and the rank lined up exactly with his prediction.
Chances were high that it was him.
But… he wasn’t the only one who fit the description.
Was it him? Or…
“Congratulations, Qu Xincheng.”
As expected.
The ranking curve — 7 → 8 → 6 → 4 → 5.
Fifth place. No surprises there.
[Xiao Qu did amazing!]
[I thought Sky would push their golden boy a bit higher]
[Prince privileges, must be nice]
[Don’t call him ‘Prince’ like that — jealous you don’t have the money to back your fave?]
[Anyone salty about Xiao Qu, go check my boy’s Meteor ranking — he made seventh without a vote-push slot]
[More screen time, so what? Go target those fake-shipping bros instead]
Qu Xincheng’s lips had gone pale from nerves; when he heard his name, his knees almost buckled and he nearly fell off the stage. Lai Yudong, one seat away, reacted quickly and caught him by the arm.
“Congrats on debuting,” Lai Yudong joked to ease the tension. “If you fall now, you’ll end up on the hot search.”
Qu Xincheng’s voice was trembling so badly it sounded like a motor. “Th-thank you…”
He turned to look at Song Yanxi, face caught between crying and laughing, looking utterly pitiful.
Another pair of close friends separated by the debut line.
“Go on,” Song Yanxi coaxed gently. “Fifth place — I’m dying of envy over here.”
Qu Xincheng bit his lip. “But you…”
“You’re gonna make me cry like that,” Song Yanxi said, his tone wavering as he fought back tears. “I’ll count to three, and if you don’t go, I’ll get mad.”
Only then did Qu Xincheng reluctantly turn back around.
Lai Yudong took a slow breath. His empathy was too strong — if this kept up, he wouldn’t be able to hold back his own tears.
The thing he dreaded most was parting.
Before leaving, Qu Xincheng said softly, “Yuki.”
“Mm?”
“That… I’ll wait for you to come over…”
Lai Yudong couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright.”
ATOP LEAVE ME AMONE