Chapter 2: A Troupe of Performers

Fang Xing did not follow the imagined scenario these people had played out in their minds. Instead, with a serious expression, he said, “Adhering to professional standards, I must point something out—the last two lines of the chorus would be better sung by someone else.”

At these words, everyone present was momentarily stunned.

The distribution of lyrics had already been decided on the day the song was chosen, and it wasn’t a matter of anyone singing whichever lines they pleased. After all, in any song, there are only a handful of standout moments. To boost streaming numbers, the producers would naturally assign the most impressive parts to the most popular contestants.

The live performance was scheduled for tonight, and to switch who sang the chorus at this late hour was clearly a rushed move.

Wu Junchen’s face showed a flash of surprise and displeasure at Fang Xing’s words. As soon as the camera panned to him, he quickly replaced his expression with one of humility, asking, “Do you think I’m not good enough to sing it?”

Fang Xing shrugged, saying nothing, but his expression said it all.

Wu Junchen’s gaze darkened, his tone turning cold. “You want to sing the last two lines, is that it? Fine, they’re yours.”

The final two lines of the chorus in “That Girl” reached a D5, the highest note.

Fang Xing only needed to use a bit of mixed voice technique and hitting D5 was effortless for him. However, though he could outshine most contestants without much training, it would not meet his own standards for performance.

So, Fang Xing gestured toward a B-class teammate nearby. “Let him sing.”

Yesterday, before rehearsal, this B-class student named Guo Haoyu had come early to the practice room and sung the entire song. While Fang Xing was doing his vocal exercises, he heard Guo Haoyu sing the chorus, and the last two lines were decent.

Guo Haoyu hadn’t expected this hot potato to be thrown at him. His eyes widened and he quickly waved his hands. “No, no, I can’t do it. I can’t. Better let the team captain sing. His high notes are amazing.”

He wasn’t stupid. If he took Wu Junchen’s lines now and those scenes made it into the broadcast, Wu Junchen’s fans would tear apart his social media.

Wu Junchen, seeing that Guo Haoyu knew his place, allowed a trace of a sneer to cross his lips before turning back to Fang Xing. “Since you think I’m not good enough, you sing it. We still have most of the day ahead—let’s spend it getting you ready for the chorus.”

Half a day, and only one D5 note. If he insisted on singing it, it wouldn’t be impossible. He could easily outshine Wu Junchen.

Looking at Wu Junchen’s theatrics, the little devil in Fang Xing’s heart was determined not to let him have his way, and was about to accept.

Just then—

One of the show’s directors quickly stepped forward to intervene. “We’re out of time. The choreography and stage positions are all set—there’s no way to change it now. We’ll have to stick with the original arrangement. There’s no point discussing this further. Let’s get back to rehearsal.”

On any variety show, it is always the production team’s word that counts. Only when a contestant is famous enough do they have the right to negotiate with the directors. For these trainees, who weren’t even D-list celebrities, whatever the directors said was final.

Fang Xing couldn’t be bothered to argue with the production team. It was just one song, after all—he’d perform it and be done. So he put his earphones back in and continued with rehearsal.

...

During the lunch break, a director pulled Fang Xing aside and asked, “After tonight’s performance, we’ll announce the rankings and there’ll be a PK round. Each team gets one spot. All F-class trainees need to prepare a PK song. Have you decided what you want to sing? Let us know soon so the control room can prepare the backing track.”

Fang Xing picked up a towel from the rack, wiped his sweat, thought for a moment, and replied, “Can I bring the accompaniment over after I get it ready this afternoon?”

“Hurry, then. If you’re not ready before the show, you’ll have to sing a cappella.” After checking in about the PK song, the director added, “By the way, there are people looking for you in the lobby downstairs. You should go see them.”

Fang Xing looked puzzled. “Someone’s here to see me?”

The director lowered her voice in warning. “Two pretty girls. Let me remind you, during the broadcast period, you can’t let any negative news get out.”

In earlier seasons of “Tomorrow’s Star,” there had been scandals involving trainees, forcing the show to be suspended and re-edited. Because of that, all subsequent seasons required trainees to avoid any negative press during the broadcast period. Reminding trainees about their personal conduct was part of the director’s job.

Fang Xing lived a disciplined life, so he wasn’t bothered by the warning. He agreed and left the practice room, heading for the lobby.

Once Fang Xing was out of sight, a staffer chatted with the director, “Sister Lan, this trainee is in F-class. He’ll be eliminated after tonight’s performance. There’s no time for entertainment reporters to dig up dirt on him, so there’s really nothing to worry about.”

The director, Sister Lan, watched Fang Xing’s retreating figure. “Actually, he’s quite a sunny and handsome guy—just too little time spent training.”

The staffer sighed, “These days, fans don’t go for that type. You need to be a bit more flamboyant to get popular.”

...

Reaching the lobby of the studio building, Fang Xing indeed saw two young women waiting outside the security gate.

One was tall and strikingly beautiful, with softly curled hair—half draped over her shoulder, the other half tucked behind her ear, revealing a star-shaped earring.

Seeing this pretty girl, Fang Xing felt his heart tighten.

Her name was Chen Shirong, the original host’s unattainable crush.

They’d been university classmates, though not in the same class. He’d started pursuing her in sophomore year and kept it up for two years without success. The previous Fang Xing had been devoted, if a bit foolish.

Looking back over those memories, Fang Xing now realized that the so-called “white moonlight” was nothing of the sort—Chen Shirong had been stringing him along the whole time.

Next to her stood a round-faced girl, Wang Mantong, Chen Shirong’s roommate and best friend.

As soon as she saw Fang Xing, the round-faced girl waved him over, using a commanding tone. “Fang Xing, come here!”

He asked through the security door, “What is it?”

Without a word, the round-faced girl shoved a large cardboard box into his arms. “Take this.”

Fang Xing didn’t understand at first, but when he looked inside, his brow furrowed immediately.

The box was full of albums, photos, and posters. The person on the album covers looked familiar—it was none other than Wu Junchen.

With an air of entitlement, the round-faced girl said, “Go get these signed by our idol. Make sure you get them all done before the show tonight. Otherwise, if you’re eliminated, you’ll never see him again.”

Fang Xing’s disgust only grew as he swept a cold gaze over the two women.

Chen Shirong tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, remaining silent the whole time, a picture of tranquility.

“Eliminated? That’s funny.”

Curling his lips into a faint sneer, Fang Xing tossed the box straight into the nearby trash can and walked away.

The round-faced girl erupted in anger, scrambling over the security barrier to retrieve Wu Junchen’s albums and posters, cursing, “Are you insane? How dare you throw our idol in the trash? Fang Xing, you’re finished!”

A security guard quickly intervened. “No access without a card. You can’t come in.”

The round-faced girl clutched the box as she was escorted out by the guard.

Returning to Chen Shirong’s side, she fumed, “Shirong, wasn’t he your simp? What’s gotten into him today? He actually threw our idol away! No, I’m taking a picture and posting it in the fan forum—I’ll let everyone tear him apart.”

Chen Shirong watched Fang Xing’s retreating figure, her expression full of surprise.

In her memory, Fang Xing had never refused any of her requests. Now, it was as if he’d become a different person.

...