Song Selection

After a full day of filming, the contestants had plenty to talk about. But because one contestant had left such a deep impression on everyone, most of the conversation kept circling back to her alone.

This dorm was no exception, especially since one of Yu Mao’s idols was sitting inside. After a few rounds of chatter, the topic inevitably turned back to her.

“I suspect Yu Mao really never takes her headphones off. She didn’t even take them off to sleep.”

Yuan Li sat on the edge of the bed, hands braced on her knees. Her gaze moved from the camera drone hovering in front of her face to Nan Changgeng, and she said seriously, “Sister Nan, she must be your hardcore fan. She can’t live a single second without your songs.”

“Not quite.” Nan Changgeng smiled casually and lowered her eyes. “Wearing headphones all the time will damage your ears.”

Her two hands, resting on her lap, unconsciously tightened; her fingertips pressed hard into each other. The moment she lowered her head, her brows faintly furrowed.

Zhao Shengxiao stroked her braid, a faint trace of worry in her eyes. “She’s so bold, actually cursing out a mentor. I wonder what the internet’s like right now. It must be trending.”

Though whether the reaction would be good or bad for Yu Mao was hard to say.

In the directing room, the production team was grinning ear to ear at the surging heat.

Two related terms sat one after another at the top of the trending list: #Contestant Yu Mao publicly insults mentor Zhao Xuan and #Zhao Xuan evaluates Nan Changgeng. One was in first place, the other in second.

The latter had been bought early that morning; the former was a complete bonus.

Scattered beneath them were a few other lower-ranking trending topics, most of them generated by these three.

In truth, because Zhao Xuan’s reputation was already bad, even with Yu Mao’s merciless takedown, public opinion didn’t swing entirely one way. Plenty of people felt she had said exactly what they wanted to say.

Online, the criticism and the praise were almost evenly split.

Yu Mao didn’t care about any of it.

After a brief nap was broken by the alarm, she got up, changed into a bright yellow tracksuit, and went downstairs to gather in the rehearsal room.

Once again, she was the last one there.

Clearly, no one else was as honest as she was. When they were told to assemble in an hour, they really waited until the last minute to step into the classroom.

The C-class contestants were already lined up, and even the mentor had arrived. The person in charge of their class was Xin Heng.

The moment Yu Mao entered, she became the center of attention.

Her long, thick, tousled hair had rolled around on the bed and become even more chaotic, piled on top of her head like dry straw. It made her look even smaller and more delicate, like a doll.

The person she cared about wasn’t in this class, so she had no awareness at all of maintaining her image. Under everyone’s gaze, she took her place in line, glanced at her reflection in the mirror, and made no move to fix her hair.

Xin Heng couldn’t help glancing at her several times. When he saw her expression go blank, her eyes losing focus, his mouth twitched hard.

Under normal circumstances, he would have teased the last person to arrive. But he didn’t dare. His instincts told him that doing so would only make the atmosphere even more terrifying.

He reluctantly looked away and straightened up. “Is everyone here?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let me go over the arrangement for next.” He paused, making a show of suspense. “After the initial stage, are you all satisfied with your rankings?”

This was the C class; there was no question it wasn’t a good result. Most of the contestants shook their heads.

“Not satisfied!”

“Not satisfied? Then your chance to improve is here.” Xin Heng smiled. “Four days from now is the first evaluation. There are five songs in this song selection round, and the teams will be formed by several A-class contestants acting as captains. The captains will first choose their preferred songs, then select their team members.”

“The small assessment is still scored individually. A team’s score is the sum of all its members’ scores. The first-place team in overall score gets twenty points added to everyone’s initial stage score; second place gets ten; third place gets five; the last two teams get no bonus.”

“If the added points push you above the passing line, you can move straight up to B class. Are you looking forward to it!?”

The room erupted in cheers at once, the girls clapping along.

“Woo!!”

“Can’t wait!”

Some were overflowing with excitement. Moving up to B class would give them two minutes of solo stage time, which made it easier to stand out than performing in a group.

But there were also girls who, even with twenty extra points, still couldn’t reach the B-class cutoff. They were a little less enthusiastic.

Yu Mao was one of those who still couldn’t make B class even with twenty more points. But she wasn’t very interested in promotion either. Coming here, she had only one goal.

With the hope that she might be able to form a team with Nan Changgeng, a rare spark lit in her eyes.

Feeling everyone’s excitement, Xin Heng smiled, then changed his tone. “But! If there’s such a good thing as a bonus, there’s naturally also a downside. The five contestants with the lowest individual scores will face elimination.”

Before the atmosphere could turn tense, he continued:

“Please gather in the first-floor lobby. The captains have already chosen their songs and are waiting to select their team members. In order to get the song you want, don’t be shy; use every trick you have to sell yourselves to the captains!”

Xin Heng walked in front, smiling as he led them out of the classroom and downstairs.

On the first floor, posters for the five songs had been pasted on the wall. The captains stood beside their chosen songs, the pink especially eye-catching.

Lin Baiyu had chosen “Julia,” a high-energy electronic dance track with a strong rhythmic beat.

Nan Changgeng had chosen “Hedgehog,” a foreign-language trip-hop song with a dark, gloomy, psychedelic quality.

The other three A-class captains included rapper Deng Cheng, who had chosen the rap song “War of the Mind.”

Then there was the Flying Flower twin duo, Nai Ye and Nai Lin, a band the program counted as one person. Their style was a rather special native ethnic vocal technique, and many of their own songs leaned toward ritual music; they were nicknamed the wild ritual band. They had chosen a world music track, “World Sunset,” that suited their style.

The last captain was Wei Zhiyu, a lovely girl with an especially clear, bright tone and strong vocal ability. With excellent projection, she chose the inspirational song “To Us Who Are Brave,” which could best bring out her strengths.

Contestants from the other classes had already come down too, mingling casually and chatting with the captains to ingratiate themselves.

The moment the C class arrived, everyone was present, and Mo Lei began restoring order, clapping her hands.

“Come on, come on, line up properly. Song selection is about to begin.”

Once everyone had gathered, she lifted her tablet. “We’ll go one by one. First, let’s play the songs.”

She played all five songs in turn, then gave the contestants two minutes to think.

“Alright, anyone who wants to choose ‘Julia,’ step forward.”

More than twenty people stepped out of line at once.

Excluding the six captains, there were fifty-four contestants left. Each team had to have at least eleven people, and because the Flying Flower band had two captains, they needed to pick one fewer.

In a team this large, it would be hard to tell in a group performance who was holding the others back and who was shining. But this was an evaluation, not a show. In the end, there would be no group chorus; scoring was still individual. In essence, it was still a solo battle.

The production team’s real purpose in arranging it this way was to let the contestants push each other to improve, with stronger members bringing along the weaker ones, while also filming how they interacted. It was a different kind of reality show, one meant to highlight the contestants’ character.

The team selection was in full swing. Following the order drawn by the captains, Lin Baiyu went first. She chose eleven people, including Zhao Shengxiao, Chen Xia, and Liu Yuanxi.

Liu Yuanxi was a songwriter type, but her vocal conditions were limited; Zhao Shengxiao had sung a lively little love song on the initial stage, and though her tone was good, her technique was only average; Chen Xia’s voice was thicker, and she was good at fast songs and dancing, making her a better fit for this track.

Qi Qi was a rapper and had decided to go to Deng Cheng’s team, choosing not to cluster with the familiar girls she knew well.

Yuan Li had excellent singing skills and one of the rare larger voices in the domestic scene, but this song couldn’t make use of her strengths. After a brief struggle, she decided to go with Wei Zhiyu’s team.

Dozens of people were bustling about noisily. Those who had successfully chosen each other were jumping and shouting in delight, while those who hadn’t been picked wailed in misery. Only around Yu Mao remained a small vacuum-like space, as though she stood in a still world apart.

She kept her mouth shut. Her eyes, replacing all words, stared quietly and heavily in Nan Changgeng’s direction.

She had never seen Nan Changgeng wear such vivid, warm colors. The woman had a pair of deep, cool gray-blue eyes, set in a snow-white face, like two misty seas bordering a cold snowfield, carrying an inexplicable sense of tragedy.

Now that broad sweep of pink covered her, pressing down that lonely chill and making her look much lighter and brighter.

That made Yu Mao even more excited; her heart beat faster and faster.

But whether by coincidence or design, Nan Changgeng’s gaze swept over the crowd several times and never once met hers.

Once the first song’s selections were finished, Mo Lei restored order and spoke again:

“Next song, ‘Hedgehog.’ Anyone who wants this song, step forward.”

Yu Mao immediately took a step forward. Even in such eagerness, she looked like a ghost being blown ahead by a gust of wind. That incompatible bright yellow made her stand out all the more.

This song was relatively obscure, so not many people chose it; there were only about thirteen or fourteen.

Nan Changgeng looked at them, her lips pressed into a thin line, appearing very serious as she carefully called names one by one and picked her team.

The scene was completely different from the previous round. Just a moment ago, everyone had been shouting their self-recommendations, wishing they could plaster themselves right against Lin Baiyu’s face so she would choose them.

This time, it was quiet; the contestants looked more like students waiting for a strict teacher to take attendance.

One skinny little girl was very nervous and seemed a little afraid of her. After hesitating for a few seconds, she stepped back out again. One more person was gone from the candidate pool.

Yu Mao heard the whispers behind her. Zhao Shengxiao said that Sister Nan looked really intimidating like this; others were talking about her too, saying Nan Changgeng would definitely choose Yu Mao, since she was a fan.

She waited in hope from the first person to the last.

Still, she never heard her own name. Nan Changgeng slowly, but without hesitation, called out eleven names that had nothing to do with Yu Mao.

Her expectation came to nothing, but she wasn’t very disappointed.

She had long understood how unlikeable she was.

Maybe she was just too short, and Nan Changgeng hadn’t noticed her.

It didn’t matter. Whatever the reason.

At least it proved that Nan Changgeng didn’t need her right now.

The murmur of the crowd grew louder. The girls cautiously, and not very skillfully, peeked at her expression. Even Mo Lei looked at her a couple more times, then glanced at Nan Changgeng with some confusion.

Soon, she put it out of her mind and continued the process.

Nan Changgeng still didn’t look at her once. This time, Yu Mao clearly sensed the other woman’s avoidance.

She calmly stepped back into line. The others were watching her; for her still utterly unmoved expression, they felt both surprised and not surprised at all.

Even so, some girls with stronger empathy actually showed concern, hesitating on their own and unsure whether they should say something to comfort her.

The little flying cameraman drone silently hovered in front of her, capturing the unextinguished light in her eyes.

Comments flooded in one after another. Some were analyzing and guessing why Nan Changgeng hadn’t chosen her; others used the matter to attack and mock her, saying it was ridiculous that she’d been rejected by Nan Changgeng after pouring out all that affection.

No one guessed that Yu Mao was, in fact, happy.

From the moment she came here and saw Nan Changgeng for the first time, she had felt joy.

Being able to watch Nan Changgeng from so close.

Seeing her choose the people she wanted to choose.

It was truly happiness. That bit of disappointment was not worth mentioning.

Author’s note:

The song title “War of the Mind” in this chapter is fictional; the inspiration came from *Love Warrior*, which is one of my all-time favorites…

Hedgehog… my little darling…

World Sunset… my heart’s treasure…

TL Note:

little flying cameraman drone (小飞侠) is the show’s hovering camera drone, nicknamed “Little Flying Hero.”