Initial Evaluation
The same stage fright, the same disastrous start: Xu An's opening was a hundred percent identical to Lai Yudong's, but Xu An proved with his ability that none of this was something a newbie-village slime needed to worry about.
While everyone was holding their breath over the rest of his song, Xu An quickly pulled himself together. He squeezed his eyes shut, shutting out everything but the music.
He didn't make another mistake after that. His ethereal, elusive voice conjured vivid images, like a torrential downpour in the dead of night, pattering as it washed over the whole city. Every sorrow was magnified a hundredfold, and the chorus drove the emotion to its peak.
Compared with Lai Yudong's heart-wrenching song, which only made people wish they were dead, Xu An's voice brought listeners the genuine bitterness of a broken heart. As Liu Qichu put it, "I'd have to get dumped ten thousand times before I could possibly sing with that much emotion."
As he finished the final line, Xu An's expression settled into a pose with lowered eyes and slightly pursed lips. He portrayed a shattered vulnerability to the fullest, and even after the accompaniment stopped, everyone remained immersed in the lingering mood, unable to pull themselves out.
If not for the mistake at the start, his rendition would have been perfect.
Xu An raised his head and bowed uneasily. "Thank you."
Those words pulled Lai Yudong out of the atmosphere Xu An had created. As though waking from a dream, he raised his hands and led the way in contributing a small round of applause to the magnificent performance.
The other trainees belatedly came to their senses and hurried to applaud him. Thunderous applause filled the little studio, and the enthusiastic response made the tense Xu An breathe a sigh of relief.
Lai Yudong couldn't help smiling, for no other reason than the way Xu An's eyes lit up when he heard the applause.
No matter how well Xu An had sung after recovering, he still hadn't seemed confident. Only after receiving positive feedback did his expression relax.
[Awesome, awesome]
[He's won me over. Definitely Class A]
[Xu An just had to come after Miura. What a shame. Swap in an average vocal and he'd definitely secure B and have a shot at A.]
[Be bolder, a dance specialist would work too]
[You Shu: Are you being polite?]
The requirements for entering Class A were either very strong overall ability or outstanding ability in one area. Xu An was undoubtedly the latter. Considering that it wouldn't be quite appropriate to give him an A outright after his mistake, the mentors decided to give him another test.
It was both a way to smooth things over and a chance for him.
While the mentors were discussing it, Lai Yudong was passionately duking it out with the system.
According to the system, "Lai Yudong" didn't exist in the parallel world. The identity he was using was equivalent to creating a new account in the parallel world and transferring his data from the original world over. Black technology had been used to eliminate the oddness of a person appearing out of thin air, so there wouldn't be any melodramatic twists like usurping someone else's place or finding no record of him.
As for why the bug couldn't be fixed, the new account had already finished loading and couldn't be modified on its original foundation. It was the same principle as the vast majority of games, where a character's nickname could only be changed with the power of money after creation.
Lai Yudong: [Can I use the power of money to change my identity? Is there a points shop where I can buy items? Can I unlock a golden finger? Is there a character panel?]
System: [Not at present.]
Lai Yudong: [You're not an unfinished closed-beta version, are you? Everyone else's systems have those things.]
System: [Host, read fewer system novels.]
Lai Yudong: [?]
In this era when everyone was caught up in involution, systems this plain and unassuming, lacking ambition and having nothing you asked for, were rare. It was just like Lai Yudong, who had been tossed into a survival show.
Just a male college student who's hopeless at both singing and dancing.jpg
Maybe this was what they meant by every pot having its matching lid: a host got the system he deserved.
Lai Yudong: [What about the rest of my persona? Are there any talents I'm good at? How long have I trained?]
System: [Everything is based on your own experience.]
The system's honesty left Lai Yudong at a loss.
Without some kind of background, just sitting in the studio made him look like the embodiment of a shady deal, with the word "capital" carved into him from head to toe. Otherwise, viewers would have a hard time imagining how he had passed the audition.
But as a broadcasting student with no foundation and only five minutes of training, if he were given a fancy backstory—say, studying bel canto since childhood, belonging to a street-dance club, or training in Korea for two years—he would be an outright fraud. He might even be publicly executed in a big-character poster.
Lai Yudong covered his face in anguish.
First came #MiuraYukiHandpickedByCapital, then #MiuraYukiFakedHisCredentials. Whichever way he looked at it, his life was bound to negative trending topics.
So he was being driven to the wall either way.
Fortunately, the system wasn't quite that deranged.
System: [The setup is that the production team recruited you to make up the numbers.]
Lai Yudong: [? Elaborate.]
System: [A few days before the official recording, a trainee's waist injury worsened and he needed surgery. But at that critical moment, contacting the major talent agencies, holding emergency auditions, choosing someone else and signing a contract would have been troublesome. As it happened, the director ran into you, a ready-made candidate, at KFC that night. Since you were good-looking and had the right aura, you were invited to fill the vacancy.]
Lai Yudong: [I ran into a survival-show director who was one person short of a hundred while eating KFC? Isn't that way too much of a coincidence?]
System: [Because it was Crazy Thursday.]
Lai Yudong: [...]
True, no one could resist Crazy Thursday.
Everyone had gathered here today for Crazy Thursday... no... for the future of the domestic entertainment industry!
WeChat him 50 yuan and hear him talk about his debut plans.
The plot the system had arranged was barely plausible. Thanks to it acting like a decent person for once instead of continuing to pour oil on the fire, he couldn't help wondering if it was an HR rep sent by the production team specifically to find a suitable replacement trainee.
But in that emotionless account, Lai Yudong was more concerned about the backstory that had been glossed over.
The same experience was fictional for him, but real for someone else.
Lai Yudong rubbed his temples. Now that the story hidden behind the slot he had picked up had been revealed, he could no longer slack off with a clear conscience. Even sitting in the Class F seats felt unbearably heavy.