Page 49

Hard as it was, there was no shortcut to closing the gap between him and the others except to practice like his life depended on it.

Lai Yudong wasn't fighting alone.

After vocal class ended for Class C, Zhou Rui slipped over to find him. He couldn't find a group of his own and was afraid he couldn't keep up high-intensity practice alone, so he hoped to find a partner they could support each other.

Dance partners, confirmed.

Lai Yudong couldn't find a group either. He couldn't practice alongside his roommates: Liang Zhisheng had given up trying, Li Xu was a lone wolf who showed his head but never his tail, and Xu An was still at the stage of learning the dance, scraping by on classes he tagged along to.

Whether he could even see them was another question. Leaving early and returning late, he hadn't run into any of his roommates while they were awake after vocal class. There had been only one exception: at lunch the next day, he and Li Xu had both gotten the same dish of stir-fried green beans and pork.

Su Junzhe and Liu Qichu, who lived across the hall, were also people he knew fairly well, but they weren't suitable practice partners either.

Unlike Zhou Rui, Lai Yudong didn't care about having a so-called source of emotional support. Alone or in a group, anything was fine as long as it didn't affect him. Still, having a partner who could motivate him and create a positive cycle wasn't bad either.

And so the two hit it off at once, practicing separately in the same room without disturbing each other. They only exchanged a few words during breaks or when it was time to eat. Most of the time, Zhou Rui brought up a topic, and Lai Yudong played the attentive listener.

On the day of the assessment, at one in the morning.

With less than twelve hours left until the second assessment, plenty of people were still working hard in the Class F practice room. The number of people cramming at the last minute had grown considerably, and their unpracticed dancing made others break into a nervous sweat on their behalf.

In contrast, Lai Yudong and Zhou Rui had taken a short break. They sat side by side against the wall, so drenched in sweat that they looked like two wet towels hung out to dry.

[Report! The tryhard duo is finally taking a break!]

[Haven't those two been practicing nonstop since they came back from dinner?]

[To answer the person above, yes.]

With one hand resting on his knee, Zhou Rui said wistfully, "I really want to get into Class A too."

Lai Yudong picked up his water bottle and took a sip. "Believe in yourself."

"Believing won't help." Zhou Rui gave a bitter laugh. "The competition this season is too fierce. They've cut the debut spots down to seven, and there's a limit on how many people can get into Class A. No matter how I look at it, there's no way it'll be my turn. I'd be happy just to make it into Class B."

"Fierce?" Lai Yudong tilted his head in confusion. He didn't pay much attention to the survival shows on the various platforms, so he didn't understand how Zhou Rui had reached that conclusion.

"Previous survival shows had nine or eleven debut spots. Some shows didn't limit the number of people in Class A, but this time there are only seven spots. I figure the race for the top places will be tight."

"Why are there fewer?"

"The idol industry's in a slump. There are more trainees than fans. If this keeps up, I reckon they could make a show where trainees vote for fans. Besides, this is Sky's first survival show, so having fewer members is safer." After finishing his perfectly serious analysis, Zhou Rui hurriedly added, "That's my guess."

But it sounded pretty reasonable.

Zhou Rui had given Lai Yudong, who only half understood these things, plenty of explanations like that.

For instance, Qu Xincheng and the show's initiator, Fu Hanyu, belonged to the same company—Tianhua Entertainment, a subsidiary of Sky. As a result, Qu Xincheng had attracted considerable attention from the moment rumors of his participation got out.

Another example was that the group formed after debut would be managed by Sijia Entertainment, a company in which Sky held a stake. It was also the company Mo Li, Lin Xiao, and others belonged to.

Although listening to all this was just for fun and wouldn't help him debut, it at least gave him a clear understanding of the situation.

Other people's companies were impressive, while he himself was nothing.

Lai Yudong: [What exactly is LYD Company?]

System: [An independent studio tailored just for you.]

An independent studio...

Was it sure that wasn't just a shell company with him as its sole member?

Without much hope, Lai Yudong asked, [Can you buy me some publicity and get me on the trending searches?]

System: [To redeem this function, the host must use the initial capital to create wealth.]

Lai Yudong: [Could the initial capital be...]

System: [Haven't you already opened your suitcase?]

Lai Yudong: [...]

With just a handful of loose change?

And in a closed-off filming environment, at that?

How exactly was he supposed to make money? By telling a sob story on camera and starting a Shuidichou fundraiser?

That was just absurd.

He didn't want to become the first person to make legal-news headlines for being disqualified from a survival show over illegal crowdfunding.

"You Shu, why do you look so unwell?" Seeing Lai Yudong rub his temples with a slight frown, Zhou Rui thought the high-intensity practice had worn him down. "How about we call it a day?"

"I'm fine." Lai Yudong raised his water bottle and took another sip, trying to suppress the speechless, choked-up feeling his unscrupulous system had given him.

He gave a vague answer. "I was thinking about some... well... unpleasant things."

Zhou Rui misunderstood again. "Don't worry, you'll definitely move up a class."

Lai Yudong smiled without committing himself. "You too."

Before they knew it, the hour hand had crept toward five, and the sky outside had turned fish-belly white. Only Lai Yudong and Zhou Rui remained in the Class F practice room, and even the live comments took ages to produce a single message.

The moment they walked out of the practice room, Zhou Rui was so sleepy he had to close his eyes for three seconds every couple of steps. He staggered like a hungover old man. "I can't go on. I'm seeing afterimages..."

Lai Yudong hurried forward to support him, afraid that Zhou Rui might accidentally walk into a wall and meet the tragic fate of attending the Theme Song Assessment wrapped in bandages.

"Thanks." Zhou Rui listlessly raised his eyes and, unexpectedly, saw little sleepiness on Lai Yudong's face. His ink-dark eyes were as bright as black agate. "Aren't you sleepy?"

"I am."

Zhou Rui looked him over. "Really? I can't tell at all."

At a loss for words, Lai Yudong glanced at the ash-brown-haired young man with most of his body hanging off him. Compared with Zhou Rui, he really didn't look all that sleepy.

It wasn't as if he were some new breed of human that had evolved beyond the need for sleep. After staying up all night until this hour, of course he was so tired he wanted to drop straight into bed. Today he had even finished an hour later than yesterday.